The statistic* of crime throughout the country Hhow a marked increase in the number of murders during recent years—from 2335 in 1887 to 5906 n 1891 —while for several years prior t 1887 the number fell short of 2000. According to the Shoe and Leathei Reporter, a convict in a certain peni* tentiarv, whose crime was dishonesty, is compelled to spend his days cutting out pieceß of pasteboard to be put be tween the outer aud inner soles of shoes which will be sold as made of solid leather. A statement rocently published by the authorities of Munich, Bavaria, gives some startling information as to the increased consumption in that city of dog flesh. So great an appetite seems to have developed for the food, declares the Chicago Herald, that tho authorities have thought it time to in terfere for the protection of dog "It has passed into a proverb that racing is the sport of kings; it can with truth be stated," declares Outing "that trotting is the international equine sport of the American people. It is true that in New York, Chicago and a few Southern cities the thoroughbred flourishes while the trotter does not, but throughout the balance of the country and in the Dominion of Canada, trotting and its relative gait, pacing, provide the popular and universal sport. It is natural that it should he so, for while it gratifies thnt love for equino contests which is a leading character istic of the Anglo-Saxon race, it also appeals to the patriotism and the utili tarianism of the American nature. The trotter is an American production. He is a grand and distinct type or branch of the equine family. By the applica tion of the laws of selection, training and development, the American breeder has evolved a perfect trotting race as •uperior to its original crude elements as the thoroughbred of to-day is to the parent hor6e of the desert." Visitors to the Columbian World's Fair at Chicago will find 500 guides Veady to do their bidding at an expenso of fifty or seventy-five cents 1111 hour. Guides for parties of five or fewer per sons will be charged for at the rate of fifty cents, and, from five up, seventy five cents an hour. The business oi the guide is not going to be profitable, as the salaries paid will not be greatei than S3O a month. The educational advantages are expected to compensate for the small wages. There are to be twenty-five women guides. Mrs. Pot ter Palmer thought that unescorted women would be in need of the services of a guide, and in deference to hei wishes appointments will bo made. The information givers are to be formed into an organized and officered corps. There will he at least five companies tinder the command of sergeants. Th - first sergeants will be paid SOOn month, there being five of them. There will be twenty second sergeants, with sal aries of S4O a month. The grounds will be divided into districts. There are district headquarters where visitors may apply for the services* of guides The New York Post says: The prob lem of the ultimate source of the Nile . seems finally to have reached a solution through the recent explorations of Dr. O. Banmann. Thirty years have elapsed since Speke sent to the Royal Geographical Society of London his famous laconic despatch, "The Nile is settled," announcing the dis covery by him of the great equatorial lake, Victoria Nyanza, supposed tube main head basin of Africa's mighty river. This discovery was followed soon afterwards by that of a second, Beeming still larger, equatorial lake, the Albert Nyanza, which divided the honors of "Conqueror of the Nile" be tween Speke and Sir Samuel Baker. The progress of more modern African exploration, while it has served in many ways to bring about n truer knowledge of the mutual relations of these two large lakes than was known to Speke and Baker, and to establish the more positive claims of the Victoria Lake, had not, until Dr. Baumaun's journey, answered the still significant question, regarding the position of the headwa ters of these lakes; in other words, the actual fountain-head of the Nile hail yet to be discovered. This is now shown to l>e on the enstern face of the "height of land" which closely bor ders Lake Tanganyika on the north east, the sourco of the Kagera or Ruvnvu, a western, and the most pow ful, tributary of the Victoria Nyanza. This position was reached by Dr. Ban mann on the 19th of September last. With its source thus placed between the third and fonrth parallels of south latitude, the Nile traverses thirty-five degrees of latitude, and becomes a rival in length of the combined Mis sissippi-Missouri system of rivers. ••COME VERSES CAROL'' Some verses carol blithely as a bird. And hint of violet and asphodel; While others slowly strike a funeral bell, Or call like clarionets till, spirlt-stlrred, We hear the mustering tramp In every word. In some, the ocean pounds with sledges fell, Or Neptune posts with blare of trumpet shell By shores thnt visionary sens engird. As soft as flutes, they croon tho lullabies Of cradle-years ; play clear as olthcrns ; wall Like harps AColian in tho grieving wind : 6ome are the deep-drawn human moan by pale And silent faces—'neath lack-luster Peering through panes on darkness uncon flned ! —Henry Jerome Stockard, in tho Century. Til E SON OF A TAILOR. BY CIIARLBS STOKE 3 WAYNE. X OUNG Engfer \ I/// >7 remembercd /(/SktßS&l // quite dis- >rn * WVel to be measured for a riding habit. He remembered tho frock of large plaid that she wore, all green and blue and black, and he remembered her blue felt hat with its ostrich foathers; but what had made a still deeper impression upon his boyish mind was her pretty pink-aud-white' face, her great hazel and her sunny curls, which, after being caught at the nape of her neck with a dark blue ribbon, went rippling down over her rough brown coat nearly to her waist. Ho had stood at the little desk in the corner, making out bills—for it was a Saturday, and, there being no school, he was engaged at his usual holiday occupation. He was sixteen then, and he fancied that she was a year or two younger; for he had overheard her mother say that it was her first riding-habit, i\nd that they did not care for an expensive one, because she would outgrow it. He recalled that she had blushed at this, as though it were a crime to ho young and growing, and that a feeling of re sentment had come into his heart against her mother for subjecting her to such on embarrassment. Seven years had wrought ft great many changes, but the shop was in the same old place there on Sixth avenue, under the shapow of the Jefferson Morket Police Court's brick walls, and with the elevated railroad trains rum bling past the windows of the upper room where he studied and where he slept. Karl Engfer, tho tailor's son, however, was no longer a a school-boy, looking after his father's hooks and making out his father's bills on holi days. He was now a student at the general theological seminary—a Pro testant Episcopal clergyman in embryo —and he wore sombre black garments of a somewhat clerical cut to indicate his chosen profession. Why he had gone into the church he hardly dared to confess, even to him self, because he was really a conscien tious young fellow at heart, and he believed that there was such a thing as a divine call to the priesthood. In his case he doubted if tho call wap divine. The orthodox teachings of a maiden lady who presided over the class in the mission Sunday-school that ho attended on Carmine street had not been without effect. He had accepted J tho Scripture as truth, ho had been baptized and ho had been confirmed, but the impulse to go forth and preach the Gospel had come rather from a wish to elevate himself above the lovoi of the surroundings in which ho had been born and raised, than from any burning desire to lift his fellow-man slough of despond. Young Engfer now and then inflicted upon himself a sort of moral flagella tion. At such times he opened his own heart to his own honest gaze, and ho invariably found there a deeper underlying motive for his course, of which he was half ashamed. It was nothing more nor less than an ambition to gain a position from which he might aspire to the love of the little maid in tho plaid frock who had ordered her first riding-habit from his : father on that Saturday seven years ago. It would not have been an unworthy ambition, he told himself, under other circumstances. If it were only a sec ondary consideration ! If ho had given himpelf to the church first, and this desire had come afterward, he could have pacified his chiding conscience with the assurance that a wife such as Madeline Sturgis would make him would ho of incalculable assistance to lnrn in his parochial work ; but now he felt that he was using his holy calling as means to accomplish an end that was distinctly Hellish, and as such hypocritically base. These moods, as might he sup posed, were morbidly depressing. All the afternoon he had been fighting over again in his heart the same old battle between tho right aud the wrong of it; and now, tired out by the struggle, ho hud come down from his little upper room into the tailor shop on tho ground floor, and was standing looking out through the glass door at tho pussing throngs on the avenue. Workingmcn and workingwomen were hurrying home from their day's toil; the surface cars were crowded, and at short; intervals long, heavy trains thundered by on the rlevated road overhead. The hurry-scurry of the scene diverted him for the mo ment, and he would probably have been lifted completely out of his dol drums, had not that one nuinc, spoken by his father's voice, at that instant fallen upon his ear. The old man was evidently in trouble. He had spoken, somewhat graciously, to his cutter, who was busy chalking hut a pair of trousers, which were for Herr Fleischman, the walking gentleman at Amberg's Thea tre, and which must he finished in time for the premier of the new comedy on the following evening. His question was as to who would carry home a cer tain riding liabit for "Mees Sturgis." The errnd-l>oy was out. Karl knew that it was the busiest season of the year with his father, and that Gottlieb, the cutter, could not be spared for outdoor service. But the garment was promised and must be sent. Karl turned away from the door. ' Let mo take it, father," he said. "It's only a step down to Washington place, and I don't mind." The old German protested, hut Kivrl insisted, and eventually the father re luctantly consented to allow his son, of whom he was more than proud, and for whom he had ambitions that tow ered to a bishopric, to deliver the par cel. In any American city other than New York tho spectacle of a young man so well dressed carrying a largo bundle on a crowded thoroughfare would havo attracted attention, but in tho metropolis people are more apt to mind their own business than aro the people elsewhere, and so it happened that as Karl made his way down Sixth avenue with tho riding-lmbit wrapped in u brown paper under his arm, scarcely a head was turned to look after him. Had it been otherwise, however, it is doubtful whether the young theological student would havo observed it. He was plungedjdeeply in thought, and as liis feet traversed tho six or seven blocks that lay between liis father's shop and tho Sturgis res idence his mind traveled once again over the seven years that had inter vened since that eventful day when Madeline Sturgis had como into his life. As lie looked buck at the boy that he was 4.hen he wondered how he had ven tured to let the seed of hope take root in hiH heart. The son of a cheap Ger man tailor; his companions, like him self, the children of poor tradesmen— it was certainly a wild notion that pos sessed him to woo and win this aristo cratic little maiden, whose people were not only rich enough to buy and sell him and his father a thousand times over, but were of a social stratum far above that in which the Englers lived and moved and had thpir being. He remembered how ho had carried home that first riding-habit when it was finished, and how ho had been asked townit in tho dining-room until Miss Sturgis could try it on and ascer tain whether it was entirely satisfac tory ; and he recalled how ho had sat there in that basement apartment with its extension table and its lenther- I covered chairs; how he had looked with admiration upon the engravings in walnut frames that hung upon the walls and how ho had hoped, all tho time, that there might bo some com plaint, so that the liltle lady would como down to show him just what was wrong, and ho could get another glimpse of her. But his father was a good workman. The habit was all that could be desired and ho had returned home disappointed. Tho days when lie saw Madeline he called his red-letter days, and/for a time thjy were fewer than those that are indicated in the printed calendars. One January afternoon, however, Mrs. Sturgis had come into the shop and had asked his father if Karl would not like to go to the mission Sunday school on Carmine street, in which she was very much interested, and his father, who would have gone through fire and flood to please a customer, so f oar fill was he of losing a dollar's worth of trade, lmd said that Karl would certainly be there on the follow ing Sunday. From that time on he saw her more frequently, and his infatuation in creased in proportion. She taught a class of small boys across tho aisle from where he usually sat, and on more thun one occasion the maiden lady who pre sided over tho group of larger boys, of which he was one, was compelled to demand with some emphesis his return to tho business of the hour, his gaze having away of wandering repeatedly from his catechism or his Bible to the face of the pretty little teacher in tho opposite pew. One incident that ho recalled with some pleasure had occurred on a Sun day afternoon in early spring. Ho had noticed that Mrs. Sturgis was not present iu tho chapel; that Madeline had come alone; and he had wondered all through the lesson whether it would seem rude on his part, after tho close of the session, to offer to walk homo with her. If he only could, ho thought, it would ho.tho happiest day of liis life ; but lie feared that she might think him impudent and presuming, and, when the school was dismissed and tho scholars and teachers filed out into the street, he lacked the courage to go forward and speak to her. But his happiness hud come, never theless ; for in following her at what he considered a most respectful dis tance, his eyes never once leaving her lithe young figure, clad in a well fit ting spring jacket that his father had cut with his own hand, he had seen her rudely jostled by a drunken man, and had dashed to her aid almost before he realized what he was doing. The re collection of her gratitude was one of his most cherished memories; and now, as he turned into Washington place, he was thinking of how, on that occasion, her manner was so cordial and so completely lacking in any indi cation that she recognized any differ ence whatever in their social station. He remembered that it was on that day that his determination to study for the ministry was formed, and that it grew out of her telling him that the assistant minister at the mission had dined with them on the evening before. "The day will come," he had thought, "when I, too, may be asked there to dine." And now he was thinking that day might not be so far distant; for, was he not going to the mission, the week following, to take the place, temporily, of that very same assistant minister, the Rev. Mr. David, who, he had heard, was to be married and go to Europe for a three months* honeymoon tour? "Yes, it was true, as Lord Beacons field had said: "Any man may be what he makes up his mind to be." By the time young Engfer reached tho Sturgis residence ho had walked and thought himself out of the gloom of his blues and his self chidings into tho radiant sunshine of a hope de ferred that was on the verge of reali zation ; and ho whistled softly a mer rier air than was to bo found in the hymnal, us he tripped lightly down tho stone steps of tho areaway, and rang the bell. It was his intention to hand in the bundle and to make off as quickly as possible. He had no notion of being recognized, and above all he wished to avoid the possibility of a request to await in the dining room, as ho had of yore, the verdict as to fit. In making these plans ho had counted upon the bell being answered by a housemaid, and when, instead of a servant, the door was opened by Miss Sturgis her self, his mode of procedure was, of ne cessity, somewhat altered. To escape recognition was out of the question, and, as he realized that in his effort to serve the woman he most cared to please he had put himself in a position that was likely to lower him in her es timation, he blushed to the roots of his flaxen hair. "Why, Mr. Engfer," she exclaimed, "I. am so sorry you went to this trouble!" "Well, you- see I—that is father," he stammered, "thought that possibly you were expecting it, ami—" "Yes, I was expecting it," Miss Sturgis put iD ; "in fact, I was very anxious for it. I couldn't wait for Delia to get to the door; but I had no idea that you would have to bring it." "I was coming this way," Karl pre varicated, "and I offered—" "Won't you come in?" the young woman interrupted again. "You can sparo a moment, can't you? Wo shan't treat you as an errand boy, you know" —and she laughed in away that made young Engfer hesitate between embar rassment and pleasure. "I'm afraid," ho began to protest, "that I can't stop this evening. I have—" "Just a minute,** Miss Sturgis plead ed. "You must let me thank you for your trouble; and then, I want to con gratulate you, too." Karl followed her into tho dining room, where the table was spread for dinner. "Sit down," she said, and she drew a chair out for him and another for herself. "Now, Mr. Engfer," she went on, "I am awfully obliged to you for having brought me my habit." As the young man looked at her in the soft light cast by the pink shades that adorned the cnndles in tho can delabra he thought he had never before realized how beautiful she was. Sho was so bright this evening, too —so cheering—and, what was dearer to him than all else, 8110 was really almost familiar. The chasm which had once seemed so wide between them was grow ing narrower and narrower. There was no doubt of that. Once he was or dained the breach migfit easily be closed entirely. "And now," sho went on, "I want to offer you my congratulations upon the' good news I heard to-day; that you are coming to tho mission to take Mr. David's place." Karl could hardly believe that he heard aright. Could it bo that she was actually pleased that Mr. David was going away? At one time during the latter part of his attendance at the mission Sunday-school he had thought that she cared something for the young divine, and he had really been a little jealous of him. "You are very kind, Miss Sturgis," lie said, "very kind. Do you take as much interest in the mission as formerly?" "Oh, dear, yes. More than ever!" "Then I suppose I shall see a good deal of you, there?" "Of me?" she asked, surprisedly. "Oh, you don't know, then! Why I thought every one knew. Haven't you heard whom Mr. David is going to murry ?" A sharp pain as from a knife thrust, shot through Karl's heart. He seemed suddenly unable to breathe. There was a rumbliug, rushing sound in his head and a swaying, darkening cloud before his eyes. He was conscious of * tingling chilliness, und then of a numbness in his hands, his feet, and his legs from the knees down. Ho made an effort to pull himself to gether—to hide his feelings—but ho failed. He felt that he was stifling; that ho must get into the fresh air, at any cost; and he heard himself mumbling something, he scarcely knew what, his voice seemed so strange und unnatural. The next moment ho was stumbling up the area steps on to tho sidewalk ; and an instant later he had come into collision with some one who was about to mount the stoop. The shock steadied him. He started to apologize, but the words died ou his tongue. Tho light of a street lamp across the way had revealed to him the face which ho had suddenly coine to abhor—the face of tho one man in all the world whom he hated; the face of the thief who had robbed him of a hope that for seven years had been to him more than life itself, and of an ambition that had raised him from tho level of his own people to a place of which he might well have been proud. Instinctively ho clinched his fists. [ and a fire came into his eyes. Then, suddenly, he grew dizzy again. Iron fingers seemed to be pressing upon his temples with tho terrible clutch of death, and he staggered away like a drunken man. He wandered tho streets for hours *, a whirl of memories in his brain, a leaden weight upon his heart—up ono thoroughfaro and down another, through by-ways, in and out of blind alleyp, seeing no thing,caring for noth ing but to escape from himself and the torture that was within him. Presently he became conscious ol the sound of lapping waves—the mur mur of waters—and a chill in the air that pierced him to the marrow. Re called thus to a realization of his phys ical being, he glanced down, to see that he was standing on tho extreme end of a long pier, with the dark river flowing below. A keen wind was blowing in his face ; a thousand lights glittered on the opposite shore. "Another step,*'ho murmured, "and I should have been out of it all. Why did I not take that ono as I took the others? And, oh, I must have taken so many to-night. How tired lam !" He stood for a moment iiyfiesitation. Something was whispering to him to take that one step more. It was for her, it told him, that he had adopted the church as his calling. Of what use was all his learning—his Greek and Latin and Hebrew, his knowledge ol the Bible, his knowledge of theology? What good would he do? Then another voice, lower, sweeter, more tender in its pleading, spoke to him. It seemed borne on tho wind, which had suddenly died to a zepher. It answered tho questions, one and all. It breathed encouragement. It bade him look up. He raised his eyes heavenward. Across the river, above the roofs and chimneys and spires of the sleeping city was a faint but ever-increasing band of light. A new day was dawn ing.—Frank Leslie's Weekly. WISE WORDS. The flowers shed no tears. What women say, men do. Credit is the character of cash. We lose the bud in the blossom. Travel should bo a great oduator. Learn something from everything. Covetousness is a chrysalis of crime. Nature abhors a vacuum in the affec tions. Avarice is a vise that squeezes men's souls. Injustice may begin before its object exists. The person without will has a malady incurable. Happiness is to pleasure as home is to a hotel. Tho more wo forget the better satis fied wo are. Tho girl who doesn't think, seldom lets her parents think for her. A little history every day makes a well informed man in a few years. Cupid can't shoot straight. His arrows never go through the centers of two hearts. Suffering alone might break the un tried spirit, but with the prop of hap piness it is bent to graco. One sees how ridiculous or mis placed is a fashion or a passion only when its days of prestige are over. One's wishes are never so fully re garded and so promptly executed as during the vociferous period of infancy. Life is an angel. Some men are born where the lines meet, and they broaden us they grow; others aro born at the wide end and narrow down the further along they get. We believe in the dignity of manual labor and the advisibility of young men learning a trade to relieve the congested professions; especially is this true with regard to tjio sous of our acquaintances. A Petrified Whale. Leon del Mnr, a Frenchman at tached to the surveying corps con nected with tho National Museum, San Jose, Costa Rica, reports a find of equal or greater value than the Mon tezuma (Col.), fossilized monster. Leo's find is not a "Dinosaur" or other half mythical creature which tho lapse of ages has transformed into stone, but a common everyday whalo, 216 feet in length, with bones mineralized until they are as hard as jasper and as heavy as load. Tho "Museo" officials are in a quandary, and are debating as to which would be the cheapest, to move their museum buildings over onto the mountain range where tho petri fied monster lies, or to try to transfer his flinty remains to tho Costa llicau capital. The point sclectod by this antedi luvian giant when he concluded to give up the ghost, along about the time of the close of the cretaceous or some other geological period, is a rift between two mountain peaks, seventy two miles from San Jose and 3300 feet above sea level. There must have been a season of high waters in that section at ono time. Either that or Del Mar's specimen was a regular mountuiu climber.—St. Louis Republic. Restoring a Withered Arm. The story comes from London of a wonderful surgical operation that promises to be successful. Five yearn ago a workman injured his right arm, and a careless surgeon so treated it that it withered and became useless. Recently it was decided to examine the arm, and it was accordingly opened and ex plored. The nerve was found to bl partially divided. Two fresh ends were made and a section of the sciatic nerve from a live rabbit was stitched in. Tho patient has now recovered the power in his arm, which is regaining its orig inal size, and ho is following his em ployinent.—Philadelphia Record. HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS. FLOUR AS A PURIFIER. Flour has long been known as nn excellent purifier. Children's hoods of Angora wool may be perfectly re stored, when soiled, by rubbing them with flour that has been made very hot. When the flour is cold, pin the hoods on a line and leave them in a strong wind, or beat thoroughly with a rat inn. Angora fur may be cleansed in the same way. The flour must be stirred while heating to prevent scorch ing.—New York World. HOW TO SCOUR WATER BOTTLES. Carafes, which have so largely re placed the ice pitcher, are really very pleasing and refreshing to look nt if they are kept fastidiously clean and bright. Unfortunately the purest watei obtainable very soon dulls the inside, and it isn't every one who knows o quick and easy method of removing this. A very simple thing to do is to teai a newspaper into small bits and nearly or quite fill the carafe. Then pour in warm soapsuds with a little ammonia added, and shake well. The paper will soon scour the inside of the bottle thoroughly clean, and it only remains to rinse it well before using again.— New York Herald. WORTH KNOWING. Tut powdered or dissolved copperas down the sink and other drain pipee as often as once a week, and flush them well on washing days. *- For frost bites keep away from the fire and rub the parts affected with snow or ice water until thawed, then treat as you would a burn. When the eyes sre tired, or inflamed from loss of sleep, apply an old linen handkerchief dripping with water as hot as you can possibly bear it. To throw water on burning kerosene only increases the danger by causing the oil to spread, but salt, flour or cornmeol will quickly smother tho flames. In ordinary burns and scalds tho only remedy required is to thoroughly exclude the air from the injured part. Cotton batting will do this more effec tually. To relieve pain from bruises, and prevent discoloration and subsequent stiffness, nothing is raore"efficacious than fomentations of water as hot as it can be borne. Fivo or ten minutes spent every morning during winter in rubbing the body briskly with a flesh brush or piece of flannel over tho hand, will do much to keep the skin active and pre vent colds.—American Agriculturist. UOTHS. Among tho many duties demanding the housekeeper's attention is the work of putting away clothing, so as to pre vent the ravages of the moth, writes Mrs. Ij3. R- Parker in tho Courier- Journal. Furs are usually tho most difficult to care for. They should be brushed and well beaten to dislodge any moth eggs that may have been deposited in them, and then hung in the sun. Woolen dresses, overcoats, flannel underwear and extra blankets not needed for sum mer use should all undergo careful ex amination and airing, preparatory to being stowed away for the summer. Tho old-fashioned custom of our grandmothers—that of packing woolen goods in boxes with gum camphor or tobacco—is now declared a failure, and if we remember the many moth-eaten articles we have seen come forth from trunks and boxes, redolent with these particular odors, one will agree with the modern idea as to their want of efficacy. Many women take the precautionary measure of folding in paperß and sewing up in cotton bags, but none of these are wholly safe, as the only gunrauteo against moths is to keep the moth miller from depositing its eggs, which they seem to do before it can be prevented in the spring. I have recently noticed an excellent bag, which seems to be tho best article to use in putting away woolens and furs; it is airtight and entirely free from any unpleasant odor. Garments can be put in and taken out of these bags with ease, rendering olie always sure of their condition. For putting away the winter wear, articles of a kind should be put to gether, as it sometimes causes delay and trouble to have to hunt through .bags or boxes when some particular garment is needed. It is an excclleut plan to mark each bag on tho outside, so the contents will be known without opening. Proper attention given the work this month will relieve the housekeeper of all anxiety on tho subject, as well as saving much expense by keeping the woolen clothes in good condition for unother season. RECIPES. Carrot Fritters—Boil one good sized carrot until very tender,* press through a sieve and season to taste with butter, salt and pepper. Shake the carrots in small, flat cakes, and saute in butter. Strawberry Layer Cake—Cut a square sponge cake into halves. Upon one half put thick meringue, made from the whites of two eggs, add two tablespoon fills of powdered sugar • beat the eggs until light, then add tho sugar and beat again until white. Stand large straw berries thickly over this; put on the upper half, cover with strawberries neatly arranged, sprinkle with sugar and serve with cream. Minced Sandwiches—Chop half a pound of lean liam very fine; add one mixed pickle and a tablespoonful of mustard ; put four ounces of butter in a frying-pan, stir over tho fire until it creams; add the ham, the beaten yolk of one egg, with a little salt and pepper, remove the pan from the fire, stir all together, pour out on a large dish and let cool. When firm, cut in slices and lay between slices of buttered bread. SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL. Rubber is made from cotton seed oil. Flies sometimes infect eatables with cholera germs. Scientists are of the opinion that some icebergs last for 200 years. An electric railway will probably be built between Atami and Odalvara in Japan. T. D. Curtis, the scientist, expects co see country roads lighted with elec tricity. Comb honey is said to be a remedy for dyspepsia. The wax must be eaten with the honey. Fourteen wind planets were dis covered during last month, bringing the total number of small planets known up to 375. Successful experiments have been made in stimulating the growth of such plants as wheat, corn and tobacco by means of electric currents. Granulated cork and bitumen,pressed into blocks, is tho latest favorite for paving London streets. Its elasticity is its special recommendation. The Chinese have bred a whole colony of goldfish, each having two well-developed tails and two sets of anal fins. Biologists say it would be equally easy to breed quadrupeds with <;ight legs. Tho position of tho lamprey eels has been reviewed by Professor Howes, who thinks that instead of being primitive forms, they are aber rant fish-like forms, which have lost their lower jaw, their sucking mouth having been secondarily acquired. 1 If the heat of the sun were produced I by tho burning of coal, it would re quire a layer sixteen feet in thickness, ; extending over its whole surface, to. 1 feed the flame a single hour. With I the sun a solid body of coal, it would ! burn up at this rate in forty-six cen j turies. j Edison, the great inventor, is hope ful of being able to generate electricity j directly from heat, and thus dispense j with the steam engine and dynamo now used for producing electric power. II this plan bo successful, it is likely that u simple piece of mechanism placed over tho kitchen chimney will supply electric lights to every room in an or ! diunry residence. I As the ashes contain only about six 1 per cent, of potash and less than two of phosphoric acid, tho value is not ; more than forty cents per 100 pounds, |orsß a ton. This estimate is based on a value of potash of 4* cents a pound ; in muriate of potash, selling at sls tin ton, and phosphoric acid at six cents a pound. The common price of wood ashes is far beyond the actual valua compared with tho price of other fer , tilizers. j As everybody is leaning now, boil ! ing kills the microbes in water, and it was only when tho authority of a law forbidding the use of the infected rivei water was put in force in Hamburg last autumn that the cholera was reallj checked ; and it is interesting to learn j that Cyrus, who seems to have had pood ideas of sanitation, when crossing 1 the river Ohoaspes, had all the drink ing water for his army boiled—in sil ver bowls, tho legend says. Preserved a Fine Leg of Mutton. There was an immense sensation created ut tho M— station the othei day, just previous to the starting ol the afternoon express for Paris. Thi inspector was about to start the train when a short, fat and pussy old gen tleman trotted up to him and ex claimed : * 4 Wait a minute, will you, please while I—" "Impossible, sir!" interrupted the officer, puttiug the whistle to his lips "The train is overdue now." 44 But you must wait!" cried the old gentleman, excitedly. "There is a man's leg underneath the wheel." "Good gracious! Why didn't you say so at first ? Where is ho?" inquired the horror-stricken inspector. "Hold on there!" And having stopped the train he hurried after the old gentleman, while a couple of porters jumped down on the line, amid the excitement of n number of spectators. After a short search one of the porters handed up a rush basket containing a largo and line looking leg of mutton. "Thank you!" said the old gentle man. 44 What do you mean, sir?" roared the exasperated inspector. "You said "I said a man's leg was under the wheel, aud so it was," interrupted the old gentleman. 44 1 bought this leg and paid for it, and if it isn't mine I should like to know who it belongs to, that's all." Then tho train moved on.—Paris Figaro. - The Ancient Name ol tircat Britain. The oldest form of the name Britain is Ortanis, from which comes the ad jective Ortanicos, which in Irish is Cruitnech. This last is the name which the Irish gave to tho Picts, once mas ters of Great Britain. The adjective mentioned became in the language of the Gauls Pretauicos. Pytheas, the Greek navigator of Marseilles, who flourished about the time of Alexander the Great, and is said to have made a voyage to Britain, in one of his few fragments now extant calls Great Bri tain the Protanio Island. A century liter Pytheas, a Gallic people—the Britanni —drove the Picts out of the larger portion of Groat Britaiiff and established themselves there. From this came confusion in the minds of Greek geographers between the name of the conquerors and that of the con quered island. Out of this confusion srose various and mixed forms. The Pretanic Island became Bretannic, and then Britannic, which form became fixed, and has come down to us.— Revue Archeologique.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers