"FATE." In this dark belfry where wo toil ond grope Toward the dim seen light of life within, "Where barely, or with panting breath we win To shadowy glimpses of our dream of hope; If still ascending by the steeponing slope With this small knowledge of our origin— The what we were, plus all our sum of sin, What need is there to cast a horoscop f We are the angels of destiny As shall o'ertake us when we leave this place Of temporary hiding, soon or late. There is no thought, word, dee 1 of such as But moulds us unto erac\ or t> disgrac?. Though inen are pleased too ill their scape goats "Fate." -James McCreedy. JUDGHTRELF- ACK RELF stood fr irresolute in tho doorway of the . smoking -room. The all-night po ker game, of which he bad been a spectator for an hour or more, had just adjourned for breakfast, and the empty room with its strata of various colored cigarette smoke was uninviting at so early an hour. Hardly more at tnetive was the row of pallid helpless and shapeless in their heavy wraps—on the deck before him. It was demoralizing to sec men so colorless and women so utterly regardless of personal appealaucc as his fellow passengeis. Three days of rough weather had wrought the usual havoc, and although the sea had become 6oraewhat calmer there was an insidious swell, deadly iu its effect. It addition to the general dreariness the fog-whistle had been blowing hoarse notes of warning all night, and even now, although the fog was lifting it necessitate 1 this precau tion. However muggy tho outside air, it was delicious after the smoking room, and Relf, delightfully conscious of being one of the very few persons walking the deck, threw back hi 9 head with a quick, characteristic movement, to enjoy more fully the salty dampness. "He is a beautiful youth," said the Rabbi, and he murmured some apro pos remarks of the Hebrew poets. "In that long coat and lound capita he is like a young priest," added the Bishop, and they both continued their discussion on "infinity." Relf smiled and touched his cap as he passed them. They were an interesting old pair, each so typical in his way that the young man felt that he had known them al ways. He looked at the Rabbi's strong, patriarchial profile, and reflected how invaluable be would be to a painter of Biblical scenes in need ot an Abraham or a Moses. Just then the fog-whistle, whose deaf ening bellow had of late been coming at longer intervals, burst out as if it would rip the pipe from its fastenings. Simul taneously came a concussion that sent Relf sprawling into somebody's lap, and for an instant there was the sound of crashing timbers up forward. Then, as if the whistle had sounded the day of judgment, the ghosts rose from their graves and swarmed in bewilderment about the deck. Pale, dishevelled wo men, who but a short time before had prayed for death, slid from their steamer chairs with surprising alacrity and be came suddenly and inconsistently imbued with a desire to live. The men, anxious and wild-eyed, were crowding forward, and every one was in the feverish state of ignorance that a reporter describes as ••a panic seemed imminent." The ap pearance of the ship's doctor, however, put an end to that possibility. 14 There is no cause for alarm," he raid, hurriedly, 4< we aro unhurt," and he told them that the Dahlia had run down a schooner and the boats would be lowered to pick up her crew. 44 L00k feethcra!" Everyone crowded to the rail. It was as if the gauze curtains in the last act of a spectacular play were rolling up to disclose the transformation scene. Through the lilting fog, in a glare of while sunlight, the wrecked vessel floated aimlessly about in two pieces. There were men in her rigging—just how many it was impossible to toll. Every time Relf looked through his glass he discovered a new figure clinging des perately to the shrouds. It was a dreary sight, and the time it took the Dahlia's boats to go out to the wreck and back seemed interminable and strangely sileot without the throbbing of the engines. Relf watched the rescued ones, twenty two in all, climb over the side aud dis appear among a crowd of gaping steer age passengers. With the exception of the first mate and the carpenter, who had been lost, the shaggy-headed crew of the Lizzie Johnston were apparently unhurt. When they reappeared, dressed to a man in the neat blue aud white of the Dahlia, they stood about in the 6teerage, allowing themselves to bo questioned and admired with an indif ference worthy of more experienced lions. They were a polyglot collection Gcrraau, French, some sallo.v Portu guese, several Dutchmen and a sprink ling of American?, of whom the captain was one. Relf look nu immediate in terest in one young fellow—not on ao count of the man himself exactly, for his back was turned, and he could only see that he was tall and well forracJ. It | was more owing to the effect the man was producing ou a tow-haired German girl who was tenderly bandaging his right wrist. She blushed furiously when he spoke and bent her head to hide her confusion. Relf reflected that the inan must bo strikingly handsome or was faying unusually sweet nothings, and waited curiously until the operation should be completed, hoping to see his luce. But when the girl gave a final pat to her skilful bandage, the sailor made her a funny little bew and went inside without turning round. Later in the day, when Relf was talk ing with the captain of the Lizzie John ston, and at the same time idly watching the picture of squalor the steerage af forded, he again saw the young man of the bandaged wrist, stretched out in the sunshine, apparently asleep, with his tace concealed by his arm. Ho was on the point of asking the captaiu about him when a steward appeared on the prom enade deck beating a Chinese gong for dinner. At dinner, at the supreme moment when tongues wag liveliest, whoa the or chestra play?, loudest, when every one is wittiest and no one else is listening—the steward laid a rather soiled envelope, addressed in an unformed hand, boside Helf's plate. lie opened the dubious looking cover wonderingly, aud glanced down tbo half sheet it contained, upon which among other things was a smirch of blood, until his eyes rested upon the signature, "Richard Bums." He stared at it so long and stupidly that the im patient steward joggled his elbow, and Rclf, who in the entire twenty years of his existence had never been so deeply moved, helped himself plentifully to mashed potatoes "Mr. Rclf," the note ran, "when I saw you talking to the captain to-day I hid my face, but you will come again | and see me anyhow, and I want to have ' a talk with you before you give me | away. Can I sec you to-night when the people have gone iu? Very respectfully, Richard Burns." ReU shuddered at this note with its blot of blood almost as he had shuddered two years before when in tho pink and gray light of early dawn he stumbled over the dead body of a servant on the deck of his uncle's yacht. The shock had beon a horrid one. The gruesoraeness of un expectedly finding some one for whom ho had a liking, dead, with his head battered in, was more than Rclf felt he could ever quite recover from; and row chance and a fog had placed tho mur derer in his hands when the police and a vast expenditure of money had failed to do so. Relf had often pictured to himself a noiseless struggle in which Mandcrson bad succumbed to the lithe young rtoker—the stealthy tip-too across the deck, the soft splash, and the long, cold swim toward the lights of tho dis tant watering-place. He saw it now so clearly, so intensely, that it made his heal ache, and quite forgetting that the Bishop was telling him au anecdote, he [ left tbe table suddecly and went on deck, where, except for eight or ten ladies dining on lemocade, he found him self alone. It was not because Rilf was in doubt as to his duty that he felt the need of some one wiser than himself in whim he could confide. What he hid to do he realized quite clearly; it hid flashed through his mind the moment he saw the signature of the note. But how to go about it without becoming undesirably conspicuous was nuother matter. He had but vague ideas as to how a criminal was brought to justice on land. On the high seas it was probably a totally differ cnt proceeding, aud among all tho people on board with whom he had discussed the run, and the pools, and Rudyard Kipling, and fche collision, there was no one whose advice lie carel to ask. The Bishop was so utterly unpractical that Relf doubted whether he even be ! licved in arresting people at all; and as I for the Rabbi—Rjlf smiled. Of course he would not see Barns, he reflected. To arrange a rendezvous with a murderer, in mid-ocean, after every one had gone in, was not ex ictly a subtle thing for H young man with no particular taste for athletic 3 to do. Tnen, after thinking it over for some time, he decided that it might be—well, rather unfair to pay no attention to the man's request, and decided to m ct him. it was clear and cold when Itilf stepped out of the smoking rootu late that night. Except for a fair compatriot and a college man the deck was deserted, lie took no hi 3 position in front of the music room, and stood looking into the black dept is of the steerage until there was a sudden gleam of light there, against which a rain's figure stool out for an instant, and he felt that R cii?.rd Burns was waiting for hint. 44 1s that you, Burns?" he called soft- I ly, and then, without waiting for an an swer, added: 44 Come up here, please." He neither had anything to say, uor did he know what the man wished to say to him, so ho leaned against the rail and waited for the other to begin. During the silenc3 that followed, his dislike of seeing any one ill at ease almost forced him to speak; but he resisted the im pulse and waited. When the man finally plunged desperately into the mid dle of what he had to say, It?lf drew nearer that he might not lose any ot the slowly spoken sentences. t4 I never meant to kill Munderson," Burns began. 44 1t was him that had the grudge against me. He used to go j out of his way to devil me .ve never would have seen each other if iie hain't, because—" 11c broke oil abruptly and added in a hopeess tone, 44 That wasn't what I was going to say first, for you won't believe that, if you're sharp, like they used to say you were. A knowing cbau doa't believe what's true." "Please go on," said Relf, dryly. ' He worried ino like a cat until that night I couldn't stand it, aad hit him. You remember Mandersm when his bloo 1 was up, Mr. Ileltf He jumped at me with his knife, and—well, 1 couldn't let him stick me, and how would it ha' looked if I'd ha' made a ro.v? If it hadn't ha' been him it would ha* been me. But I never meant to kill him. I got his knife and rapped him ever the bead with the handle to make him let go—his teeth were sunk in ray hand, you can see the marks of thorn yet." Relf looked with somi interest nt the great paw that was thrust into the stream of light from the music room port hole. 4 • 110 loosed his grip,*' continued Burns, 4 and I let him down easy. I didn't know he was dead, but I couldn't set him on his feet again and his heirt wasn't working. Well, I might ha' stayed there, and sai l tbca what I'm saying now, but I didn't. My peopli are hard-working and I was wel raised, if Ido say it. I'm only older than you by two years. I'm a common kind of a man, but everything is before me like it i 9 for you. I couldn't give it all up. I can make something out o' my life if no one knows who lam." Hii face showed an instant in the light, and Relf, who had always remembered it as something diabolical, streaked with sweat and coal dust, noticed that it was clcaa and brown and eager almost as useful as hn own. Burns talked on and on, but Reif had ceased to hear the words, only the earn est tones of the man's voice came to him. Under its influence he was seeing hi 9 own praisoworthy intentions in an en tirely new light. He realized that he had in his power a creature like himself—a young and vigorous life that he was about to—if not quite kill, at least crip ple as effectually as the limbs of a Nea politan beggar that are tortured into hideous %hapcs in infancy. Exactly why he was doing this he didn't know. Ob viously it was not for the man's own good. Perhaps it was for the good of the public. Then he reflected that this was "rot," as abstractly he did not in the least care for the good of the public, and at any rate an honest life was of in finitely more good to tbe world than any number of ignominious deaths. Was it thirst for revenge? Was it merely to satisfy a prejudice? lie thought of these and many other things, with his eyes fixed on the black smoke that rolled from the funnels, and, trailing close to the water, struggled to obliterate the shim mering path of moonlight there. The time passed with cruel slowness for tho dark figure at his side, who had long since become silent, and was trying to read tho younger man's larpe vague eyes. At length Reif looked toward him. "I believe what you say," he said slowly. "I have no wish to harm you." And as ho turned to go, eight bells struck, aud the watch sang out a long "All's well."—C. M. Flmdrau, in the Harvard Advocate. A Cnno in Eleven Hundred Piecei. William E. Yale, a wealthy Brooklyn (N. Y.) bachelor, i 9 a remarkable trav eler, and his delight is historical study, lie has a cane that he carries with him, which is undoubtedly the most costly aal unique of anything of the kind in the world. The stick contains about 1100 pieces of wood. E ich piece is cut iu a curious and artistic shape, so that the caoe with the various colored and shaped woods I has a strange appearance. Mr. Yale planned and made the cane, and work upon it consumed weeks of labor at diflerent times in the course of several years. Sixty of the 1100 pieces of wood are of great value to relic hunters. The head ot the cane is made from a post in, the house of Shakespeare's birthplace at Stratford, England. Set in the head is a small lock of white hair from Martha Washington's head, the lock having been given Mr. Yale thirty years ago by Robert E. Lee, a descendant of Mrs. Washington. There is a piece of wood from the birthplace of Napoleon, on ths Island of Corsica, and one from Napoleon's writ ing desk at St. Helena. Other pieces of the caue came from the Charter Oik, from the home of John Adams, from a Oliver Cromwell, from the ho ne of Julia Hancock, from the Mayflower, Roger Williams's pew, from a desk of Abraham Lincoln, from a penholder of Gladstone, from a rale that Garfield used at school, from a penholder of Longfellow, from a trunk that Lifay ette used during the Revolutionary War, from the bed upon which John Wesley died and from the guillotine upon wnic i Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette were baheaied. Mr. Yale spent years and much care in collecting toe relics. lie has been o'Jcre I S2OOJ for the cane, which is truly a wonder. He will | leave it to the historical department of I Cornell University when ho dies. St. Paul's Great Clock ti be Replaced. The great clock of St. Paul's, London, England, has been taken down from its lofty height and is to be replaced by one of modern construction. Why this piece of vandalism should be perpetrated it is difficult to imagine. The clock, which was put up by Langley Bradley in 17U8, is in splendid condition, and might tc all appearance go on for another twe centuries without failing to bear accurate record of the passing time. Il is a grand old clock, remarkable for the magnitude of its wheels and the fineness of its works. It cost £3OO to build. Its two dial plates are fifty-one feet in circum ference aud the numerals two feet 2} inches in height. The minute hands aro nine feet eight inches long and weigh seventy-five pounds each, and the hour hands are five feet nine inches long and weigh forty-four pounds each. The : pendulum is sixteen feet long. It is an eight-day clock, striking the hour on the great bell, which is suspended about forty feet from the floor. Too head of of the hammer weighs 145 pounds anl and the clapper 18 J pound?.—Chicago Herald. Familiar Exiravag inc. 4t lfc is a peculiar fact," observed n cashier of a popular restaurant, 4 'that most people help themseivci to hilt a dozen toothpicks after eae I rasa 1 , whea each individuil among then must know, if he thinks about it, that he won't more than half use one of them. Bat with most of them it is merely a matter of habit. They fell into -t originally, 1 suppose, by yielding to the idei that it is true economy to help yourself liberally to what doesn't cost anything. I often wonder what they do with all the tooth picks they take away. Some people con tract a lnibit of chewing toothpicks. II would b<^far tetter for then if they chewed tobacco or even gum, for the liore of the wood often lodges in the throat or pets into some piece of internal machinery, where it plays the mischief." —Kew York Herald. THE ANIMAf/) OF CIRCUSES. A FAMOUS SHOWMAN TELLS SOME MENAGERIE SECRETS The IClephnnts, Lions nntl tho Cat Species Aro tlie Hot Stock to Handle—Monkeys Aro Delicate. JAMES A. BAILEY, tho foremost showman of this country and the principal owner of the Baraum <fc Bailey Circus, gave the following interesting facts in regard to his menag erie, to a New York Tribuno reporter, the otl er day: •• The lions and the ani nals of the cat specie-', such as tigers, leopards an i p la thers, are tho best stock to handle. Con sidering that most of them some from the tropics, they stand the c langes of our climate remarkably well. As a rule they will live a dozen years in captivity, and often muc logger. I have known of lions to live in the cages for twenty five or thirty years. Tigers, leopards and panthers are not far behind the lion 9, either. Well-grown lioQ3 and tigers in a sound condition are worth from #S.)O to SI2OO each. If you can buy lions or tigers in pairs they are a good invest ment, as they reproduce so frequently. A good tigress will produce two litters of four in a year, and generally one-half of the n cau be successfully raise 1 and sold at good pricss. Leopards and pan thers arc given to eating their young, or at least to killing them. 14 You have to be mighty c ireful with your lions, tigers, panthers and leopards, though, for while they are hardy, disease makes short work with them if it once gets hold of them. Pneumonia is their greatest enemy. Colds, developing into lung troubles, kill by far tho most of them. During our London engagement wo lost live leopards in three weeks. Po3t-mortem examinations showed that they all died of cold which had settled on the lungs. 44 1t is ueccssary to keep a close watch on the appetites of these animals, too, for if they get off on their feed you are likely to lose them. Zoos generally feed their animals on horse meat, but both at the winter quarters and on the road we give them good beef. It pays to do it. If they begin to show a distaste for their food we give them a little hot, fresh blood to drink. If that docs not stimu late them we drop a few live chickens, turkeys or rabbits into their cages and let them slaughter them. That gener ally bring 9 them around all right. 44 50 far as hardiness and longevity go, elephants are even better stock than the lions and cat animals. They arc not much good as an investment, though, for they seldom reproduce iu captivity. So far as I positively know, the one tint was Dorn with our show several years ago, and is in our herd yet, though ft is not now much of a baby in size, is the only one born and successfully raised in captivity. 4 'They are an exceedingly useful ani mal and are not much trouble. They will stand almost anything and seldom get sick. Up in our winter quarters and on the road they are very useful for us in pushing cars arouad and hauling heavy loads. It was not many years ago when the elephant was considered the chief attraction of the show, and the worth of a show was reckoned by the number ol elephants it had in its herd. Now they are a drug on the market. I have lent them to ZJOS r.nd have been glal to get rid of them. I sold ten aud sent them to E irope a few years ago. 4, A good elephant here is worth from SISOO to S3OOO, according to his age, size, temper and intelligence. Iu Europe prices run a little higher at present. A finely trained elephant will bring a much higher price, but those who own such generally do no- want to part with them. There is no telling how long an elephant will live as a circus attraction. I never knew one to die a natural death. If they do not get killed in au accident or in a tire they eventually become sav age and dangerous and have to be killed. ' 4 Monkeys are mighty poor stock to handle, but they are so cheap that we hardly keep any account of them. A dozen of them are liable to drop over from pneumonia any day if a draught happens to blow through their cage. They do well enough iu winter quarter*, where tho temperature is eveu, bat we seldom bring back half as many ui we start out ou the road with. Tney are subject to all sorts of digestive dis orders, too, and people feed them with all sorts of stuff cilculated to produce these disorders, in spite of the vigilance of keepers. l4 Oltea we have to replenish our stock of monkeys in tho middle of a season. There arc plenty of dealers in New York from whom we can get them. Tiiey buy them of sailors generally. As for chim panzees, I would not have one in the menagerie, for, although they are great attractions, they are far too delicate to make it profitable to invest in them. No, monkeys are so hard to keep alive that the wise showmau conteuts himself with letting rare species alone. 4 'An animal the people like to see and that is good stock for the showman, i 3 the kangaroo. They uro cheap. In Aus tralia there are still huge droves of them, and the natives capture tliem very easily, with dogs trained to seize them by their long tails. The kangaroo's tail, you know, is his rudder and balancing pole. Without it his huge hind legs are likely to carry him anywhere excjpt where he wants to go. So wheu a half-dozja of these Australian dogs get hold of the kangaroo's big, tail lie is completely at the mercy of his captor-'. Tuey live many years ia captivity and reproduce so often that wo have to sell off tie stock occasionally. "One of the best animals for show purposes is the giraffe, but he is the most delicate animal wc carry arouud. I have only one, but it is worth $501)0, a9 is auy good specimen. Colds aud stomach troubles arc the giraffe's nilments. Wheu it is sick it refuses food. The antelopes are expensive animals, but, with the ex ception of the eland, they are a hardy lot and will live arouud the circus until they get toothless and bilud. 44 You would perhaps think that an ostrich, the hardiest of all birds, would bo the caisicst to keep in captivity, but they are very risky. You know they will eat anything from an oyster shell to a piece of lead pipe. Well, they are al ways gatting their stomachs out of order, aud when they are sick if you do not roll food up in balls and craui it dowu their throats they will starve themselves to death. I bought cloven of them for SBOO each. We trained them to run races, but they died off. I have only one now. * 4 On the ihinoceros and the hippopot amus wo cau.couut as surely as we can on the elephants. Once in awhile they will reproduce, but the young arc so sus ceptiblo to cold tihat it is very rarely one is raised. If my hippopotamus should die Ido not believe I co\ild get another in this country. They are getting mighty scarce. 44 Bears arc as gool stock as we can buy, as they are easily kept and not sub ject to disease. The North Americaa grizzly, though—the real article—is get ting scarce. I would like to get ono. The only one I know of is in California. I offered his owner SIOO J cash for him, but he would not talk of selling him. You see plcuty of so-cillcl grizzlies around. They are not tho real article though, but of the silver-tippe 1 variety, worth $25 J each for the best specimen*. Other bears are cheap euoagh."—New York Tribune. WISE WOKDS. The heart that has not suffered has not loved. Condemning other people will not justify u*. Eternity* will make the good better and the bad worse. Mark this: You don't have to be disa greeable to bo good. If there is good in us it will be sure to inspire good in others. Fear to die till you have done some good that will always live. The raau who worships A golden calf is burning incense to himself. There is nothing easier to believe than a pleasing lie about ourselves. There is no bigger coward than the man who is afraid to do right. The strongest man in the world is the one who cau best control himself. We sometimes think we need more grace, when all we need is more rest. Whatever sin lias caused in the hu mau race, it will cause in you if not given up. The man who deprives his brother of a right is no better than the one who robs his house.—Barn's Iloro. Music mid Heroism. More than any other of the arls music is capable of one particular interpreta tion—that of heroism, writes Caniillc Bellaigne. Its worst, detractors have not been able to deny that it inspires courage. The military value of music is the first that strikes the attention, but it is not the only value. Its heroes are distinguished not only by extraordinary bravery in war, but by fore 3 of charac ter, of virtue, of greatness of soul sel dom met. Perhaps it is to veil the hor rors of war that music has always been united with it. Music is more natural to combat than religion or love. It is easier to worship or to lovo silently than to kill. Savage and civilizsd racos alike are nerved for battle by music. It has a mysterious and double power, it calms and excites, it lulls suffering aud quick ens courage. Animals are sensible to tnu3ic alone of the arts. It is not the noise, the sound, which makes the impression, but the music; that is, sound regulated and modified by certain laws. And of these laws it seems that the most necessary to the ex pression of war-like sentiment is rhythm. The trumpet is par excellence the instru ment of warfare. The music of war may be traced as far back into the past as war can itself; military music, properly so cilled, be gan to be organize 1 by Louis X If., but it is from the French Itcvolution that the true begiuning of heroic music date*. The Frenc 1 Conservatory was formed by a Captain of tho National Guard and musician, Serette. His little orchestra first taught the "Marseillaise" to the troops, who in turn taught it to tho world. By it tho world was revolu tionized. Of all National songs the "Marseillaise" is the most heroic. Th< heroic lies in its rhythm, which is of s marked particularity, staiting as it docf with an upward beat. All the irapu'sj of the composition confers in its pecu liar acceuted measures.—3rooklyu Cit izen. Ctuing A Cold. Just beneath the surface of tho skin, all over tho body, there is a network of minute blood vessels, finer than tho fin est lace. Wheu one is chilled, the blood is forced from these capillary vessels into one or more of the internal organs, pro ducing inflammation or coagestiou, and thus often causing diseases dangerous to life. The mouths of numerous little sweat glands arc violoutly closed and all impurities which tho glands ordinarily carry off are driven back to the blood. Just as soou as a chill is felt which closes the skin glands, steps should be taken to open the glan Is. As soon as any one feels that he has taken cold, ho should put his leet into hot water as hot as can be borne, and containing a tablespoonful of mustard. "Have it iu a vessel so deep that the water will cone uo wed toward the kaeas," urges the Boston Journal of Comtnerc?. "Turo.v a blaukct over the whole to prevont rapi I cvaporatiou and cooling. Iu from five to tea minutes take tho feet out, wipe them diy, and get into a be I o I which there are two extra blankets. Just be fore or after getting into be 1 drink a large glass ot lemonade as hot as possi ble, or a glass of hot water containing a teaspoon ful pf cream of tartar, with a little sugar if desired." Eat sparingly of plain, simple food. Bake I apples and other fruit, bread and butter, bred 1 aud milk, milk toast, baked potatoes or ra v oysters may be eaten. TEACHING THE HORSE. A FAMOUS TRAINER DESCRIBES HIS METHODS. ProffMor Gfiortf® Bartholomew Glvp* Do tails of Ills Scheme of Equine Instruc tion—Tells How Many Amusing: Trlclca Are Successfully Taught. An Ingenious Instructor. A liorsc to be susceptible to train ing must be spirited, full of sensibili ty, quick to understand and to iut bis conceptions Into action, writes Prof. George Bartholomew In the New York Press. It makes no dif ference as to the age or sex of the animal; of course young horses are preferred to old ones. But old horses have been trained as successfully as young ones. For some time I don't request the horse to do anything. I pursue this course until the horse feels at home with me and looks upon me as his friend. Ido not use force In training—nothing but kindness. Sometimes I give the new comer a lump of sugar or a handful of grain. Then he will come to mo of his own accord for these things. That is a point gained. I have taken the most vlcioua horses, runaways, "man-eaters," and by my irfbthods trained them so that they could he driven with per fect safety. Kindness and firmness will accomplish wonders in training horses. There Is a great d I (Terence between firmness and cruelty. Ido not believe In 1 elng cruel, but I do In being firm. To make a horse stand on a pedes tal, first of all I teach the animal to stand still in one place. Then I call him, alternately, to step backward, to step forward. I may lead him, but when I give him the word It must be obeyed at once. Next I take hold of his foot, keeping it for a few moments in my hand. I continue that lesson until ho begins to think that all I want to do Is to hold his foot In my hand. I pract'ce that un til he knows It perfectly. Next I take a small box about a foot high J k -S £r- WILL IT COMB TO THIS? and place it !u front of him. 1 lead him up t,o it. 1 take up his foot and try to place it on the hex. He will pull it ay/ay. I take up his foot again, hold it. awhile, rubbing his leg gently with one hand. After a few lessons he will allow his foot to re main on the box. A**wr he consents to put ono foot on trie box I raise the other foot and hold it in my left hand, so as to keep the other in posi tion on the box. If he pulls down the foot on the box (which he is likely to do) I place the other one on the box. When I have trained him to bear his weight on the foot which Is on the box I have made great progress, for then he will allow the other one to be put up. I keep both hands behind his legs. If ho attempts to take down either ono 1 catch it and give it a light rap. at the same time pushing his head for ward so that he raises it and allows his weight to rcston both feet on the box. Being taught gradually, he finds experiment quite easy. After awhile he will approach the box and put up one foot. Then yon tap him on the other foot, and in a few more lessons he wlli consent to get up on the box. You gradually raise the height of the box. In the same way you teach him to place his foot on an uptight bar, placed on the corner of the box. I can take a new horse and in three days so teach him that he will strike a position with his foot on a pedestal. But, of course, a novico Iu horse training could not do that. A NJW Scholiir. Sometimes I have to add a stran ger to the group. By talking and pantomine I give the others to un derstand that the newcomer Is to he a member of the cla=s. And in this, as la other :espcts, the horses be have a good deal hke boys in school v.hcn a strange boy comes into the class. The horses look ciltieally at the visitor, and. as toys do, some times persecute liiiu. They will bite him, and he, seeing that he is not welcome, will make an attempt to leave. If he does I put him back In his position. 1 pat the others on the back and make them understand that they must allow the newcomer to remain. He will gradually liecome acquainted with I,he rest. And then, with the others, he, too, will "pick" at the next new horse. After the horses have been trained tn perform various tricks they not only enjoy taking part in the exhibi tion, but sometimes when a horse Is negligent or reluctant in going through his net, those next to him will uigo hi in, and, ly biting or crowding, seek to punish him for not I performing promptly or properly. Tcnchlng a Horse to Fire a Pistol. To teach a horse to fire a pistol Is a long and difficult piece of work.: Firct, I teach him to hold a small,! flat piece of soft pine wood, about; half an inch thick, in his mouth, or,; rather, between his front teeth. At first he will spit it out. I put It back again carefully, without hurting him. Finally he will relax his grlpj to allow the stick to pass In easily between his teeth. After a while hoi will shut his teeth and hold on to it.! Then I let go of It If he drops It,; I pick It up and gently replace It; When he has learned that you wish! him to ho'.d the stick, and that iff riltlXQ THE CANKOW. does not hurt him, he is willing to do V it. The next step is to hold the stick down below his head; make him lower his head a little and then put the stick in his mouth. That drill Is followed until the stick Is placed on the ground and he consents to take hold of it and pick It up with his teeth. You can finally throw the stick on the ground, say "pick that up; give It to me," and he will obey. 1 now take a strap of! leather, and so arrange a pistol that It can be fired of! by pulling the strap. The pistol is not loaded at first. llq must be taught that the strap Is the object he is to take. Next you load the pistol with a blank cartridge from which two-thirds of the powder has been extracted, then let him pull the strap. The report of the pistol makes a slight noise und the horse will probably start back. Without } reloading the pistol let film pull the strap a few times to convince him that he is not going to be hurt. Af ter an interval try another cartridge. Gradually show him that tho cart ridge will not hurt him any moro than the strap. Reduce or Increase the sound according to tho way ho behaves, until finally you can use a full cartridge. The Most Difficult I.esson. Probably the most difficult thing to teach a horse is the meaning of words and sign language. I am carefulj when I utter words to make a physl-. cal movement to indicate thetrmean ing. Give the horse the word, and at the same time in some way show him tho movement you wish him to make.; You want to teach him to obey the command to turn to the right. Each f time you give tho order turn him to the right, pat him approvingly, go away, and again tell him to turn to the right. Continue turning him to the right until he knows the meaning of the command. It Is by this proc ess that one horse will learn another horse's name. I n the presence of the animal I c til another horse, which; may be standing over In a corner, by name. He comes to me. The horse! who Is learning his lesson knows it in not his name that is called, and thatj he is not called for. He hears me continually call the other horse' "John," and ho learns that "John" is; tho other horse's name. In this way, my group of twenty-four horses have, each learned to know the name of tho other. PiuilHh'ntr n Horse. When I am Irain'nga horse for any, particular trick and I e docs not fjgi through his wovk In a proper way, L tap him gently with the whip, but| only enough to attract his attention to the fact that I am not exactly pleased with his conduct. I never, "lash them into submission," for I do| not believe in that theory of train-j ing. Such a course only tends tQ \' ™ l ' in " "* •jp acr.niKO TACK THE HANDS or TUB CBOCK. scare the cessfully gone through a difficult per formance I pat him encouragingly, as much as to say, "That's good, old! boy; you're all right." After such acts a horse, just like a gymnast orj an acrobat, will draw a long breath and seemingly say, "Well, I got through that without making a break." PATIENT— "WIiat do you think of a warmer climate for me, Doctor:" I>octor—"My dear man, that's Just what I'm trying to save you from." ! "CAN'T you give me employment, mum," asked the tramp. "CerfWl ly," said the kind woman. "Go clij( S9 | yourself off the place."—Exchange.
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