Mexico took over 6,000,000 bushel® of corn from this country last year. In Atlanta, Ga., in January, 1873, cotton brought twenty-one cents a pound. To-day it is about seven cents. The Minister of Public Instruction in France has decided to establish 1000 more experiment fields in addition to the 600 that now exist in connection with the primary schools. Governor Pattison, of Pennsylvania, has vetoed the compulsory educational bill passed by the Legislature on the ground that "free attendance upon free schools seems to most benefit a free people." The Turks who are on exhibition al the World's Fair do not have a surfeit of the luxurious case of which theii | Nation is proverbially fond. They are employed most of the time in carrying people about in palanquins, and some times the burden proves onerous. One who with a companion was thus trans porting a corpulent woman was heard to murmur: "Accursed am I, and I kick my bones for the day that I first heard of Columbus." Thomas A. Edison, the inventor, Baye that no person can be brought in close connection with the mysteries of na ture, or make a study of chemistry or of the law of growth without being convinced that behind it all there is a Supreme Intelligence. He says that he hopes to be able some time to dem onstrate the existence of such Intelli gence through the operation of these mysterious laws with the certainty of o demonstration in mathematics. A Lowell (Mass.) man gave a sur geon now practicing in Great Falls, N. H., a deed some years ago, dispos ing of his body for anatomical pur poses, at his death, for $lO in hand. He has since been in South America, has made a great deal of mouey, and is now anxious to have a decent funeral and interment when he dies, but coun sel whom he has consulted, advises him tbxt the deed holds good unless he buys it from the holder. This he has tried to do, but the doctor has refused large offers. There are 5552 benefices in England and Wales affording a less income to the incumbents than SIOOO a year. There is great complaint at the poverty of the clergy. It is almost as grievous to-day as in Sydney Smith's time, and the New Orleans Picayune suggests that the witty and sarcastic jibes o! that reverend satirist on the policy ♦hat permits such conditions might be reproduced. If England is to have an established church she should not give princely incomes to bishops and leave the humbler clergy to abject poverty and misery. The other day a drummer on the Chicago and Northwestern Road pre sented his milage book to the conduc tor, and the latter, after asking him a few question, put the book Into his pocket, saving, "Will see you later." After a while the drum me. asked for his book, and the conductor refused to surrender it. Thereuprn the drummer got off at a station and t legraphed ahead for an officer to arrest a thief. The officer hoarded the train and the drummer pointed out the conductor, who was arrested in spite of his pro tests and taken before a magistrate, who fined him $7 and costs, and re turned the book to its owner. As they were both leaving court the conductor said, "I'll smash your face for this!" Thereupon the drummer immediately had him rearrested and taken before the same judge, who put him under bonds to keep the peace at more cost 9. That conductor met his match. During the Ashing season of 1802 the United States Fish Commission, which busies itself solely with the pro pagation of edible flsh in the waters all over the country, stocking rivers with species new to the region, distributing eggs and young fish to the lakes and •en coasts, and working in a vast num ber of ways to the one end, distributed a total of 300,580,432 eggs, fry and yearlings of all kinds of fish. The largest operations were in shad. O this fish 69,000,000 fry, 1,000,000 yearlings and 3,000,000 eggs were dis tributed. Cod is the fish most dis tributed next to shad, and of whitefish, lake trout, pike, perch, salmon, flat fish and lobster the distribution of •gga, fry and yearlings were away up in the millions of each, every State and Territory getting ft share. The work >f the Commission, which is of so great importance and substantial value to the whole people, is done quietly, in a thorough business way, without parade >f any kind, and the Commission is a *y no means widely known department f the Government. A LITTLE WOMAN. A little bit of a woman came Athwart my path one day ; Bo tiny was she that she seemed to DO A pixy strayed from the misty sea, Or a wandering, greenwood fay. "Oh. you little elf," I cried— "And what are you doing here? Bo tiny as you will never do For the brutal rush and hullabaloo Of this practical world, I fear." "Voice have I, good sir," said she— " 'Tis soft AS iin angel's sigh. But to fancy a word of yours were heard In all the din of this world's absurd," Smiling, I made reply. "Hands have I, good sir," she quoth— "Marry, and that you have ! But amid the strife and tumult rife, In all the struggle and battle for life, What can these woo hands do?" "F.yes have I, good sir,*, she said— "Sooth, you have," quoth I. "And truth shall flow therefrom, I trow, And they betimes shall dim with woe, As the hard, hard years go by." That little bit of a woman cast Her two eyes full on me, And they smote me sore to my inmost core, And they held me slaved forevermore, Yet I would not bo free! This little bit of a woman's hands Reached up into my breast And rent apart my scoffing heart- As cannot bo expressed. The little bit of a woman's voice Has grown most wondrous dear, Above tho blare of all elsewhere (An inspiration that mocks at care) It rtsoth full and clear. Dear one, I bless the subtle power That makes me wholly thine ; And I'm proud to say that I bless tho day When a little woman wrought her way ! Into this life of mine. s— Eugene Field. A GHOSTLY EPISODE. BY MRS M. IJ. RAYNE. J | ——--IIEY were a very f 1 • - f comfortable party '] of ten or a dozen L f 'V adults visiting in an * old ancestral house, wfcy nearly or re motely connected or -Kgißßßp related. And it of ten happened that tho conversation took a turn to in -9 T\ ll\ dude those deceased P ancestors whoso portraits hung on tho walls, and whoso possessions were under the same roof with themselves. "It seeins like sacrilege," their hostess was saying, as they sat in the twilight glimmer, between hearthlight and daylight, in the old-fashioned drawing room, "but Helen has about . persuaded ine to let her have her grent-grandraother's wardrobe. I could never think myself of disturbing those things which my mother gave me as a sacred bequest. Hut Helen declares that the time has come when those old gowns can he worn without remodeling, and I fancy sho would be rather proud of them as heirlooms." "I should he afraid tho ghost of | the owner would look over my fhoulder," remarked one of the cousins • present, in an awesome tone. "Oh, if it comes to that-, we are all j ghosts," said one; "wo carry our ghosts with us. But as the good dames cannot-, even as ghosts, wear their old garments, why should we ho denied that privilege?" "I tell Helen she will only have the clothes, not the air of one borne to | them. My grandmother was a belle and a beauty, she had—well, there she ' is, you can all see her and judge for ! youselves," and Mrs. King led the way , down the long room into the vista of faint darkness to the portrait. A can- I delabrum was lighted, and in that pale j glimmer they saw the beautiful face of i i girl of 10, with the shoulders and vaist of au ideal figure. Her fair ;heeks and rosy lips, her haughty chin with a dimple set in it, her large, lus- | trous eyes were framed in a mass of mch curls as were worn in that day. I'hey hung over her lovely shoulders 'own to her small waist. "There," said Helen, in an eager voice, "look at that peach colored silk ! 1 ounce to tho waist ; see the puffed •Jeeves and the capes—oh, isn't it de- j icious, just as they are wearing them now, and it's upstairs in an old ma hogany trunk, packed in camphor! vVhy, the old lace on it is worth a for tune! Great-grandmamma wore it ns ' a bride. Ami those lace mitts and the I dear little handkerchief hag on her irm, and the medallion picture of great- 1 graudpa with his hair in a queue—oh, it would be too lovely! And I," she concluded, with pardonable pride, "am said to resemble her." "You do," said her mother; "at least we think you look like Her pic ture, hut you need not imagine, you presumptuous child, that you will ever be half so beautiful." "Not even in that dress?" queried Helen, with an alluring smile. "I have not fully decided that yon shall wear that dress. I linve often thought that there may bo something in the suggestion that people do re turn— " "Not as entities?" suggested Helen's aunt. "I do not know. All my traditions teach rne to rehpect that which I can not understand. I have often been shocked by the unkind taste v. ith which the living appropriate tho possessions of the dead, as if they were eager to obtain tho spoils." "We brought nothing into this world—" began the aunt. "Don't," interrupted Helen ; "I take quite another view of it. As my great gramlmother had her day, why should she object to me having mine? She does not need these gowns of hers in her present condition, and should be pleased to know that after lying in •tate for so many years they nre to be brought out by one of her descend ants. I a:n quite willing to run the risk of incurring her wrath, if you will let me have the gownp," added Helen, turning to her mother. Mrs. King shook her head, and the subject was dropped. But another one was evolved from it later in the evening, when Helen and her lover, Walter Harter. and a visit ing young couple disappeared to the library, leaving their elders basking in the firelight, eo grateful on the spring evening, and telling to each other a collection of ghost stories, such as a person who don't believe in ghost-scan always tell better than those who are more credulous, There was Aunt Lnvinia, from Laporte, Ind., who told a story current in the family ever since the first part of the century, concerning her great aunt, whose son came home at night from a journey, en tered her room, took off his coat, which was wet, hung it over a chair, wrung the water out of his hair, looked at her steadily and intently, but did not speak, leaving the room finally without breaking the silence. The next morning the mother sent to his room to waken him, but he was not there, nor hud his bed been slept in. An hour later came the news that he was drowned at the very time that his raothei had seen him, while crossing a ford on his way home. 'That was merely a coincidence," said a fin de siecle matron who was present; "his mother dreamed it all, of course." "I should find that, as hard to ac count for as tho ghost," looking over her shoulder. "I should hate to thiuk there were no ghosts," remarked a Virginia branch of the family; "I'm sure I saw one once on our gallery. It was dressed in white and stroke up and down just like real ghosts do on the stage. Our dog howled and tho lights all burned blue." "I sat up with Aunt Polly Williams the night before she died, and heard three cracks of a whip right over the lookingglass. And they broke the glass into three pieces," related an annt. This had been told so often that the original number, "one crack of tho whip," had been increased to three, but no one noticed that —tho ghostly fact remained. "Did you ever account for seeing your father after his death," asked one of the relatives of her hostess. "No, never! He had been dead a year on that night when I went to the hall clock to see if it had been wound up. You know the clock—one of those tall ones. It has been in the family for generations. It's up in the nursery now. As I put my hand on the door the open it, I saw father standing close by me with a smile on his face ns if something pleased him. I was frightened and ran from the hall but afterwards I looked into the clock and found a deed to some land we were dispossessed of, hidden there. I suppose, really, I only imagined seeing him. You know I can't believe it was really father, but ■ it was strange it should lead to finding that paper." "Another coincidence," said the fin I <le siecle matron. "When my ghost walks in with its head under one arm I slmll look for a rational explanation of the phenomena." "Talking about ghosts," said an el derly widowed relative, speaking in a weird, mysterious voice, "did I ever tell you how my first husband appeared to me when I was thinking about mar rying the man who was afterwards my second—did I ever speak of it?" "A hundred times to my certain knowledge," said the fin do siecle ma tron under her breath. "If I never did, it was because I don't believe in ghosts myself, but that was just one of tho things I couldn't understand. I was sitting in the par lor jnst as if it might bo now, only I was alone. There came three raps —" "Mercy! goodness! what is that?" No one responded, no one moved, and for that 'time, at least, the ghost of tho widow's first husband was laid nneermoniously something ghostly was happening under tho very face and eyes of tho party. A puff of cold air ran through the room with such startling rapidity that the wat candles flared and went out, leaving only the light of the full moon throngh the lace-draped windows, mingling with the flickering firelight in a strange, spectral glare, which was focused upon the square of velvet carpet in frout of the portrait they had been examining that very even- I 'npt. But what was this? Had the picture come tf life and stepped out of its frame? The startled group at the fireside could see only a shadow there that paled and flickered, but stepped bodily and audaciously into the light- Was it the semblance of the portrait, or was it really the beautiful form and face of that woman of a century past, wearing the same clothes which fluttered noiselessly, diffusing a cold sweet perfume that affected the senses like the incense of death? Her eyes wore fixed as in the picture, but the red was on her lips and cheeks, and her little feet peeping from the flounces and laces of her wide skirts, wore the ribbon-crossed slippers of long ago. There she stood before them all, yet never noticing them, and then she be gan to dauce in stately measure a minute, as if some unseen cavalier wore treading the measure with her, and all the time that cold wind was blowing, and a strange, quaint melody | wns being played by invisible hands, aside from which there was not as much noise as if a hummingbird had fluttered its wings. Then somebody screamed or fainted, and in a moment the music ceased, the dancer was gone. Somebody lighted nil the gss burners, and there was the ortrait just as it had already been. I and when the four young people hear ing the hnbhub in the library, came ' rushing in they were overwhelmed by what they missed, nor dared they cast discredit on the evidence of their elders, j But yontli throws off impressions easily, and Helen and Walter and their friends made such charming jest and gayety out of it, that with the fyelp of | a warm supper, the elders were finally ' induced to throw off the mystery and solemnity of the astral dance, and looked upon it as a mirage, something quite explainable by certain laws of I human occult development. Helen even declared, saucily, that her great grandmother must have been a giddy girl to come back for a brief visit to I earth just to dance that tiresome old ( minuet, and then she looked at Walker and blushed vividly. "You see, yon had talked ghosts un til you were quite ready td see one in every corner. If great-grandmamma did appear, then, it was to signify that she was quite willing that I should step into her shoes." | "I assure you that no power on earth I would persuade me to ever allow her clothes to be disturbed in my lite | time," said Mrs. King with emphasis. | Heleu looked at Walker, and her pretty mouth made a distinct shaping of the letters "P-h-e-w !" Walter looked at Helen and tele ' graphed the word back again. But | none of those worldly-wise people ever i came near suspecting what might have been the real truth, not even when they saw Walter's auto-harp, the most dreary musical instrument that, wm ever conceived, lying on the hall sofa the next jjay, or when they alluded, as they often did, to Helen's wonderful resembluneo to her groat-grandmother's portrait.—Detroit Free Press. WISE WORDS. Gold always has a market. A fool carries his name in liis mouth. It is easy to bo, but hard to appear to be. The good never lose by being perec cuted. If you want to get happiness, try to give it. The wren has a sweeter song than the peacock. Self-deception is one of the most deadly of all dangers. There is no easy place anywhere on j earth for a lazy man. The man who makes his own god has one that is merciless. There is as much love in a warning as there is in a promise. There are two w ays of telling a goose; by its gabble aud its walk. The man who has the king's word commands the royal army. Every man is a hypocrite who prays one way nnd lives another. The great question is not how long we are going to live, but bow. Find a man who has no hobby, and yon find one who is not happy. Nothing will do more to improve the looks than sunshine in the heart. Running down another is only an other way of trying to praise yourself. A discouraged man is one of the saddest sights angels ever have to look at. The right kind of a man always learns something worth knowing from a mistake. There are people who will never have any good said about them until it is done on a tombstone. There aro gracious, serene, hopeful aud happy old women who are more beautiful in their wrinkles than they were in their maiden roses.—Ram's Horn. A Singular Wedding Custom. Thh Mandingoes, who inhabit a tract of country in Africa, aro strict Mo hammedans in religion, but, curiously enough, they still retain many of the superstitions of the African races from which they sprung. Consequently their marriage ceremony is a mixture of the two, and, although it is per formed by a marabout, or holy man in the mosque, it contains one very ridic ulous element. Next in importance to the marabout is the bridegroom's sister, and when the marriage cere mony reaches the point where thevisi- i ble bond, usually typified in civiliza tion by the ring, this sister steps for ward and in place of the ring presents the lady with a pair of trousers, which ape immediately donned. The cere mony is concluded by a mournful song sung by the companions of the bride, who then conduct her again to the home of her parents, as, owing to the oxtremo probability of one or the other retracting at any moment by reason of an unfavorable omen, no house is built until the ceremony incompleted. Poly gamy is the rule, but each wife has her own house, to keep her from quarrel ing with the other wives. They aro ♦he most tyrannical wives iu Africa and, hating each other, band together against their husband and rule him with a rod of iron.—New York Com mercial Advertiser. A Canal Prepared by Glaciers. In a recent lecture before the Chi cago Geological Society Ossian Guth rie, a civil engineer, who has been engagt?d in making surveys for tho proposed drainage canal, said that in ages loug past immense glaciers had opened a natural channel for the canal from Chicago toward the southwest as far as the Mississippi River. He ex hibited a large number of boulders gathered along the path of the glacier, which, from their miheralogical struc ture, evidently came from far up in Canada, and showed how the tremend ous pressure exerted by the ice fields of the Hudson Bay region hod pushed immense fioes of ice southward over Michigan and Illinois, opening the most feasible way for the proposed canal. —New Orleans Picayune. ' CAPTURING WILD ANIMALS. MEN WHO MAKE THIS A EEOULAB | BUSINESS. Obtaining Young Lions and Tigers— i Simple Methods of Catching Wild j Klephants, Sea Lions and Snakes. THERE are men who make a regular business of catching animals, rearing and training them and disposing of them to whoever will buy. These men send out special messcugers to the hunting grounds in Africa and elsewhere. They take with them a lot of small coin to distribute among the natives. In Nubia 1 i very little money will go a long way. | On the arrival of the messenger the Kauri negroes form themselves into rompanies, go out to the neighboring deserts and there disperse in search of ihe young lions. In order to find the len in which they are succored and lourishod the Kauri aim is to find the jpoor or trail of -the mother lioness, ks she goes in and out of her lair she gradually makes a beaten track which •t is not difficult to detect. It is not >ften that more than one hunter bap >ens upon the same spoor, however, as .hey are comparatively few and far be tween. Having made bis discovery, the turn er creeps slowly and cautiously along ;he bushes. He carries a bundle of issegais or javelins under his arm. At ast he reaches the neighborhood of .he lair. The lioness scents his ap proach and starts up with an awful prowl. But she is too late. Before she ihe can spring, even before she has 'aught full sight of the intruder, the issegais, whirled with unerring aim, lave penetrated her body. She falls io the ground, gasping, dead. The lit ;le lion whelps are too weak and small *.o offer ay defense; the cruel-looking 'angs, the terrible claws are only just beginning to bud. They are gathered ip by the hunter, who takes them back , ;o his zereba. There they are brought ip on the m'lk of goats. The little >nes grow very fond of their foster mothers, and jump and play around them quite as if it were a family party. Young tigers are obtained in the same way as lions. But leopards and lyenas are frequently caught full grown. They endure captivity a great deal better than other members of the cat 'amily and, being less heavy and pow erful, are more readily managed even n their most ferocious moods. In or ler to catch them huge traps are set. Sometimes these traps are made out of wood, sometimes they are cut out of ihe solid rock. They act much on the principle of the common mouse trap— that is, they have a hanging door in 'ront of the entrance which is raised >y a lever hold down by a baited hook. The bait consists of meat. The ani nal comes in ami seizes the bait, the ■ever flies up, the door shuts down ; lpon him and he is held fast. Once irapped, the hunters, after a fierce, itruggle, tie his legs together, muzzle lim and bear him off in triumph to tho cereba. Sometimes a great hunt is got up md then everything which comes in >he way of the Kauri negroes is fair jame for slaughter, while all the lairs that are discovered, whatever the parent animal may be, are relieved of their young, and the young become tha property of the European messen ger who gets up the hunt. A great party of negroes, armed with assegais aud long hunting Bwords, ar sometimes even with guns, collect together. Men mounted on fast horses go ahead to find the game. When they have come across any ;e inimal, such as a rhinoceros, an ele phant or a giraffe, they give a signal. The hunters gradually close around the animal in a circle and assail him on all lides with assegais or gun shots. But the game does not die without a strug gle. Elephants especially are often 7ery dangeroes and turning upon their hunters with wild rage may kill or wound several of them if they do not turn and run. Wild elephants are often captured in large quantities by a very simple method, especially by the natives of Burmah and Ceylon. First an inclo jure called a keddah, or corral, is formed by fencing in a large space of ground with the trunks and branches i>f trees. On one side only is there an opening. It is the aim of the hunters to drive the wild elephants through this opening into the inclosure. But this can bo done only by the aid of thousands of beaters, who make an ex tensive circuit around the haunts of the elephant. Gradually but surely they narrow the circle, driving the animals before them, until a compara tively small area is completely sur rounded by the beaters with tho hunted animals in the midst. At last, the beaters with a general rush, scream ing at the top of their voices and brandishing lighted torches in their hands, close in upon tho elephants. The affrighted creatures, seeing no nay clear except in the direction of Ihe corral, make for it with all speed ind enter the opening. Once they are inside the entrance is barricaded. The entrapped animals rush wildly about lu tho vain hope of finding a means of jscape. At lost, completely exhausted, ihey huddle together in the centro of ihe corral, and there await motionless ihe progress of events. A number of ;ame elephants, each mounted by a teeper with another man following on foot, are then ridden into the inclo ♦ure. Mingling freely with the wild ilephants the tame ones put them off ;heir guard, and thus an opportunity e given to the attendant on foot to jasfl the noose of a rope around each >f the four legs of every captive, who .s then securely fastened to a tree. The elephant is not as unruly or as un reasonable as the lion or the tiger, and it does not take very long to tame him. He can be transformed in a couple of Baonths or so a wild roamer of the forests to a patient and docile beast oi bnrden. v I Up in the frozen regions of Alaska the sea-lion is hunted in much the same manner as the elephant in the equato rial districts of Aqia and Africa. The huntsmen are the native Aleutes, a species of Esquimaux who inhabit Alaska. They tirst find one of the rookeries to which the Bea-lions betake themselves during the autumn season. These are usually some narrow prom ontory or strip of land bordering the sea, where the animals congregate in large quantities. The Aleuts well know that their prey cannot be ap proached by day. They would simply, at the first sight of a man, jump into the ocean and disappear. So the hunters conceal themselves in the neighborhood until a favorable night comes on—a night when the moon is partially obscured by clouds and the wind is blowing from the shore. When the herd of sea-lions are fast asleep with only a waking sentry here and there, the hunters slip down to the beach at low water and proceed to crawl on all fours, Indian fashion, be tween the sea and the doziug herd. The sentries either do not see them or else in the dim light mistake them for fellow seals. At all events, they rarely give the alarm. Slowly, cautiously the hunters creep along until they have completely intercepted their prey. Then at a given signal from the leader they leap to their feet, shout, yell, brandish their arms, fire off pis tols and create a regular pandmonium. The startled sea-lions, roused suddenly from their slumbers, answer with loud roars of dismay and affright and flound er off in all directions. If their heads happen to be pointed seaward at the moment of awaken ing, off they go toward the sea; if landward then they follow* that course just as blindly and desperately. Nothing can turn them from the straight course. It is the land-turned animals whom tho hunters pursue, leaving the others to escape as they please. They follow them with hideous shouts and wild gesticulations, until the poor terrified creatures fall panting, gasping prone upon the earth and at the mercy of their cunning captors. They pen them up in in cisures made only of stakes with a lino or two of linen ropo stretched in a circle from stake to stake. The stupid sea-lions make no effort to efioape through their flimsy bonds. When a sufficient number have been captured on successive nights the whole lot are driven to the Aleut village by means of constant prodding and kicking. There they are slain, a few leing reserved for such purchasers as Wish for live specimens. Snakes of various kinds are caught in India and in Africa. Here is how the capture is effected in India. Dur ing the dry seasou the jungle which they infest is set on fire. The snakes dart out in all directions and are caught by the natives in large hand nets, in shape not unlike the nets with which American children catch butter flies. They are then cast into sacks and carried to Calcutta on the shoulders of tho natives. At Calcutta they are packed in big boxes, from two or three to fifteen in a box, ac cording to tho size of tho box and of the snakes, and shipped off to Europe. They need neither food nor drink on the journey, but must be very care fully shielded from cold, which is sure death to them.—New York World. How Parrots Shaped America's Destiny. A flight of birds, coupled with a sailor's superstition, robbed Columbus of the honor of discovering the conti nent. It is a curious but historical fact. When Columbus sailed westward over tho unknown Atlantic he expected to reach Zipangu (Japan). After sev eral days' sail from Gomera, one of the Canary Islands, he became uneasy at not discovering Zipangu, which, ac cording to his reckoning, should have been 216 nautical miles more to tho east. After a long discussion he yield ed to the opinion of Martin Alonzo Pinzon, the commander of the Pinta, and steered to the southwest. Pinzon was guided in his opinion solely by a flight of parrots which took wing in that direction. It was good luck to follow in the wake of a flock of birds when engaged upon a voyage of dis covery a widespread superstition among Spanish seaman of that day— and this change in the great navi gator's course curiously exemplifies the influence of small and apparently trivial events in the world's history. If Columbus had held to his course he would have entered the gulf stream, have reached Florida, and then prob ably have been carried to Cape Hat teras and Virginia. —St. Louis Globe- Democrat. War Games. The war games best calculated to yield really useful results arc thoso which are sometimes played in antici pation of some field day or series of manoeuvres. It is surprising how often there is total disagreement be tween the probable issues arrived at, severally, by real men on real ground, and those brought about by lead pieces upon the map or model. Ground fea tures, so apparently insignificant that their existence is undiscovered oven upon the largest scale maps, will some times suffice to alter the entire situa tion. Speaking generally, the com mon result of much playing of war games is to inculcate the mistaken idea that, given certain data, a combat has a fixed issue. An ounce of practico is worth a ton of theory. One of the first things which it is essential to ap j riciate is that in war there is no such thing as certainty, and that it is the unexpected which very frequently hap pens. All that the best general can do is to insure the desired result ns far as he is able, and make proper prepara tions for meeting the difficulty in case of failure.—Broad Arrow. HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS. TO CLEAN WHITE SN.K LACS. There are two well-known reoipes fat cleaning white silk lace. One is to wind it around a piece of wood, like a piece of broom-handle, or a glass bot tle, and to soak it all night in warm castile soapsuds and milk; rinse in warm water, soak in soap and warm water; rinse again without rubbing, bleach in the sun and dry. The second method recommends that the lace b spread out upon white paper, covered with calcined magnesia; another sheet of paper placed upon it, and laid away for three days between the pages of a large book ; then shake off the powder, and the lace will be clean and white.— New York World. HOW TO MAKE A SKIRT FORM. Take a block of wood two inches thick and at least a foot square. Bore a hole through the center and fit into it a wooden rod a little longer than the dress skirt. Then from a pins board saw a circle the size of your waist. Screw thiß seourely to the other end of rod; fasten seven dressreeds to the board, placing them so that one comes in the middle of the back. With two reeds make ahoop that fits loosely over the hips and place this under the reeds five inches below the waist. Tie firmly wherever the reeds cross. A second and slightly larger hoop should be placed five inches below the npper one. Place over the reeds a small hoop-skirt from the bottom of which several rows of wire have been re moved. Fasten the skirt to the reeds, sew tapes to edge of the skirt at regu lar intervals, draw them down and tack to the block. This holds the skirt in position.—New York Voice. HOW TO STARCH. The starching is nearly as important as washing. Let the prints dry before doing it. Use starch properly colored for colored grounds, uuless there is white in the design to be muddled by it. See that the starch is well cooked, free of lumps, not scorched and not too thick. Turn your garments wrong Bide out, dip them in, kneading them well into the starch, but not letting it flow in the right side. Turn and hang out, well spread, in the airiest shade you can find until bone dry. That is for thick stuffs, ginghams, cambrics, calicos, and so on. - Muslins, lawns and airy batistes re quire different usage. The best starch for them is clear gum water—either gum arabic or gum tragacanth. Take care that every fibre is well wet with it, but squeeze, not wring, out all the surplus and hang to dry. As soon AS the garment feels a little rough on the surface—when they are neither damp nor dry—takedown, fold and roll. Unfold a breath at a time and pat and pull it between your two hands until it is almost dry. When von have gone over the whole garment sprinkle it lightly and roll tight. Leave it for at least an hour, covering so thickly that the outside oannot dry. Sprinkle and roll in the same way the thicker garments, which, however, neeil a great deal more water than the muslins. But do not make them too wet; above all, do not have wet splotches on a semi-dry ground. Any fabric that will hiss under the iron is too wet for good results. Do your sprinkling with the atomi zer or fine rose-nosed watering pot, so gently that a mist, not a thunder shower, shall descend upon your gar ments, that is, if you would escape smears and sticky ironß.—Atlanta Con stitution. SEASONABLE RECIPES. Liver—A very nice and tasty way of cooking liver is to cut it in slices about an eighth of an inch thick, and to make the dish look nicely stamp the liver in rounds with a pastry-outter and season it with pepper and salt; then entirely cover with eggs and bread crumbs and fry in clean hot grease un til a nice golden color. Fry some very thin slices of bacon and arrange them between the liver, and pour a thick brown sauce round the dish, and un less you prefer the sauce plain, you will find the addition of a little chopped gherkin and capers will improve it very much. Palm Pancakes Well beat three fresh eggs, then mix three ta*blespoon fuls of dry flour with a pint of new milk. Pass it through a sieve into the eggs. Put one-half ounce of lard into n clean frying pan, and when it is quite hot pour in a little batter as thin as possible. Scatter over it some finely minced candied citron peel; then cover with batter as thin as before. Fry a light brown ; drain dish and serve very hot with half lemons. The pancakes must be not larger than the palm of the hand. Peach Short Cake—Use canned ) peaches and prepared flower for this dish. Chop quarter of a pound of but ter into a quart of prepared flour, quickly stir into it enough sweet milk to make a soft dough; put this into two round cakes upon buttered tin plates and bake them in a hot oven. Meantime open a can of peaohes, re serve the finest for the two top layers and cut the rest in small quarters. When the short cakes in the oven are done and cool enough to handle, tear them open with the aid of a fork, but ter the insides, divide the cut peaches upon the two bottom layers, and ar range the fine ones on the others; thickly dust all with sifted powdered sugar, lay the tops upon both under pieces and serve the short cakes with more sifted sugar and sweet cream. The juice of the canned peaches, well sweetened with powdered sugar, can be used instead of cream. There are 140,000 manufactures, using $1,000,000,000 of materials and producing an annual output of $1,900,- 000,000.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers