A public library and literary resort
exclusively for the blind has been
opened in Chicago.
The Swiss Postoffice conveys any
thing from a postal card to barrels of
wine, scythes an I bundles of old iron.
1 There are at the present moment
eleven pretenders to the various
thrones of Europe trying to make
good their claims.
It is said there is 110 case 011 record
in Massachusetts where a verdict hav
ing been set aside in a capital case and
a second trial granted a conviction
was secured.
South Florida is a great country for
bees, according t< the New York Post.
There is sornef Ling in bloom for tliem
to he I oil during the entire year.
Tliey keep on laying up liouey for the
winter that never comes. There is no ]
finer honey than that made from the
bloom of the palmetto and orange.
There is a steady demand for wal
nut timber, and purchasers are scour
ing the Atlantic coast region in search
of largo trees. While metallic coffins,
usually called caskets by the under
take rs, have displaced walnut coffins,
the wood is increasingly applied to
other uses. The trees are scarce in
most parts of the East, and many are
jealously guarded against ax and saw.
The Manufacturers' Record of Balti
more publishes a list of 502 industrial
concerns established in the South since
the Ist of July, showing that business
was affected very little by tho pimio
below Mason and Dixon'H line. The
list is made up largely of cotton mills,
canning factories, foundries and wood
working establishments. During the
first half of tL\c year some MOO new
enterprises of this kind were started
in the South.
Tho De Beers mines iu South Africa
employ 3000 whites, and from 15,000
to 20,000 of tho natives as laborers.
The natives will steal diamonds, and
no way had been discovered to prevent
tho thefts. Under tho law the native
laborers are kept in inclosures called
compounds. They sell the diamonds
which they steal at a few shillings per
carat. They are purchased, although
the natives arc ignorant of the fact,
by agents of the De Beers Company
and rot 11 red to the company. Within
the l ist two years, the company has
paid in this way $3, 500,000 for dia
monds which had been stolen by tho
natives.
That the public domain still oflers
opportunities for home seekers is
shown, thinks th< Washington Star, in
part by the figures which arc found in
the annual report of the commissioner
of tho general laud office, recently
made public, ft is stated that during
the year which closed on the Hist of
July last nearly 12,000,000 acres of
the public lands passed into the pos
session of settlers mil citizens. Only
n little over 1,000,000 acres were sold
lor cash, and as under tlie present land
laws the public land is open mainly to
homestead settlers it is evident that
the era of the settler has not yet passed.
In spite of the heavy drafts which have
been made in recent years the public
domain still has respectable propor
tions, and while a good deal of the
land is not considered valuable, still
there is a surprising acreage available
for settlement under the land laws.
These facts show that as a "Nation we
have not yet outgrown our heritage.
American merchants and manufac
turers have a great deal to learn in the
matter of exploiting their wares, avers
Frank Leslie's Weekly. They have
lost some important markets, notably
tboe of South America, just because
they have faded to employ the means
of success of which other countries
habitually avail themselves t„ .1
• I,CB ' "I 11118
day of aharp and vigorous competition
110 business man can hold his own who
sits down at home and does nothing t<.
familiarize himself with, and reach
outlying markets. German and Eng
lish manufacturers afford an example
of intelligent enterprise in this partic
ular which is well worth emulation.
An illustration of this fact is afforded
by the action of the German makers of
machinery in recently deciding to send
expert engineers to foreign countries
to study and report upon their wants
and needs in order that German pro
ducers may be able to adapt themselves
to the requirements of the markets nnd
develop a demand for their gooda. ft
is by such methods as these that the
Germans huvo acquired so large a
share of the trade of countries when
c.e ought to be masters of the situa
tion, and our people must wake up n,
the facts of the case, and meet, cornpe
, titors with their own weapons, if they
would out bo driven ffuiu every held
worth poiHOMiu#
THE FARMER'S THANKSGIVING.
The earth is brown and the 9kies are gray,
And tho windy woods nro bare,
And the first white flakes of the coming snow
Are afloat in the frosty air.
liut tho sparks fly up from the hickory log,
And the homestead's broad stone hearth,
And tho windows shake and the rafters ring
To the lads and the lasses' mirth.
The farmer's face is furrowed and worn,
And his locks are thin and white.
But his hand is firm aud his voice is clear,
And his eye is blue aud bright
As he turns to look at his sweet old wife,
Who sits in the gown of gray,
With cobweb kerchief and creamy frills
.She wore on her wedding day.
He bows his head to the laden board,
And his guests they are silent all—
"Thanksgiving, Lord, for the rain and sun,
And the fruit on the orchard wall,
For the silver wheat and the golden corn,
And the star of a toilsome life.
The greatest blessing that Thou canst give—
A true and loving wife !"
This white-haired lover he bends to kiss
Her hand in its frill of lace,
And the faded rose on her wrinkled cheek,
With a proud and courtly grace.
Aud the snowflakes click on the window
pane,
And the rafters ring above,
And angels enrol the farmer's thanks
As they mount to the Hates of Love.
—Minna Irving.
"THANKSGIVING'S" LOVER,
BY 3. J. EDWARDS.
PEFORE the great
bakeoven built into
the huge stone
chimney of Captain I
.T oh n Folsoni's j
house there sat a
fair young girl on
a lowery morning
und near her, bast
ing a fat goose on J
the spit befor a log
fire, stood another
even fairer than
she. These
maidens, clad in coarse linsey woolsey
garments of homespun their hair con
cealed except for a few locks that
wandered from beneath the linen
handkerchiefs with which it was pro
tected, the sleeves rolled to the elbows,
revealing arms that were fair to look
upon, so white were they and of such
exquisite roundness, were busy with
the preparation of a feast, and the
natural tint of their cheeks, which was j
as delicate as the peach blossom, was |
h lightened by reason of the heat that I
came from the cracking logs.
She who stood at the door of the
bakeoven hesitated a moment and
turned her head slightly to one side
as though she listened. Then tossing
her hand gently, as though to indicate
that her ears had been misled, per
haps by the wind without, she opened |
the oven door and smiled as she per- j
ceived the fragrant odor which came
from the cavern within. With a broom ,
splint tlie penetrated the crust which j
surmounted a great pie that she might
learn whether the baking was well j
done, and then she turned to her com- ;
panion and said :
44 ' Twill be a fine feast for Uncle j
Jrhn when lie returns to-day. Surely ;
he said he would be buck by noon."
The maiden who had the spitted
"BASTING A FAT GOOSF. ON THE SPIT."
goose in charge paused for a moment J
in her task of anointing it with rich i
gravy, and said:
"Father will be here, I know, if the ]
Lord permits, but in these dark davs
that arc upon us, Abbie, who can tell
what mav happen to our militia,
parading here and tramping there that
they may observe the redcoats. Father
had, f think, some serious business j
which led the company away last 1
night, and mayhap he will uot come j
to sit ftt dinner with us. 'Twill be a
sorry toast for us if we must eat alone.
#ov i- the pie?"
*' lis nearly done, T think, and'
stick a pie was never made. Tis full
of g'bl,s, for you know that Uncle
. " -"-S h R to eat them, covered!
Viin the g'avy ot the dish."
Fo. Nome moments the maidens con- !
tilled these preparations, and then I
she who was called Abbie went to the
window, and peering out for HO i n .
stunt turned and openod the door
which creaked with mighty moans AH
it turned upon its rusty hinges.
"What is it that you hear, Abbie?''
. aid the other.
"Tt seems to me that I hear the
march of the company, and still I do
not know but 'tis the wind. Sec, the
snow has begun to fall a little." The j
other maiden arose and went to the j
door, and so they stood sale by side,
fleering out far down the highway to ,
tin* turn of the road, where it skirted
the Long Island Sound, \nd such a
picture ttiil these fulr i)il<lHs make as ;
• they stood thus framed by the door
sill and jamb as would have delighted
the eyes of any of the young men of
that town.
r j 44 'Tis true, Abbie ; 'tis true. I hear
their step, and surely that is Eplira
im's fife."
Abbie returned to the kitchen and
made preparations for the great table
to receive the bounty with which the
day was to be celebrated, while the
other maid stood awaiting the coming
lof her father. She saw the company
as it marched around the bend in the
road, with her father at the head, and
she was going forth to meet them,
when of a sudden she halted. The
look of joy upon her face was changed
to one of wonderment, and she stood,
her head bent slightly forward, that
she might the better see, perplexing
and hesitating.
The company had come as near to
the farmhouse as the meadow that ad
joined it on the west, and there they
halted, and the maiden saw that, one
was with them who was not of the com
pany when they marched away the
night before. He stood alone, erect,
constrained, and she perceived that his
hands were tied with thongs behind
his back. She saw her father talking
earnestly and seemingly directing two
or three men of the company to take
this man in charge, and scarcely know
iug what she did she approached her
[ father and was so near that she could
have put her hand upon his shoulder
before he saw her.
"Sir," she heard her father say,
44 you were captured within our lines
without a pass and having no authority
to be there. lam going to send you
with a guard to the commander of our
army, who is in the camp a dozen
miles or so beyond. He will discover
whether you are 110 British spy, but
have strayed, sh you have said, within
our lines by accident."
44 What has he done, father?" the
girl asked, for she was filled with pity
for this man, who seemed so proud and
yet so pleading in his manner.
44 What Thankful, is it you? Why
arc you here, my daughter?" said the
Captain.
44 1 came to welcome you, father."
"But this is no place for you. We
have a prisoner."
"A prisoner! Surely he can do no
harm. He is not like an army man
| and he seems well favored."
"Nevertheless we found him wan
dering within our lines and there are
spies about and he may be one of
those."
"A spy? Surely, I think not."
And the girl went to tho prisoner
I and stood before him in tho innocence
j of maidenly confidence and looked full
j into his eyes, lifting her head to do so,
for he was tall and seemed to tower
far above her in bis splendid presence.
44 You are no spy," she said at last.
"No, my child, not a spy. lam an
officer of the King's army who has
strayed within your lines. Thauk you
for your sympathy. You have beauty
1 in your face, my child, but you have
what is better—you have sympathy,
j The girl went back to her father and
she said:
''Father, suppose my brother John,
j who is somewhere in the Jerseys with
Washington, should by accident be
J captured by the redcoats. It would
break your heart and mine if they took j
| him for a spy. Surely there is truth j
j in this man's words. Come, bring him j
. with you. Don't you remember that \
it is Thanksgiving Day, and that we
are to have a roasted goose and a chicken
pie, and Abbie has baked a glorious
pumpkin pie? Let him come and be
our guest, and I'll warrant he'll promise
me that he will make no etfort to
escape until you hear from the General
what shall be done with him."
The Captain seemed to hesitate for
J a moment, and then turning to his
prisoner he said: "Sir, lam myself
impressed with your dignity of man
j ner. It may be that you speak the
truth. My (laughter's intuitions are
j that it is so. I have changed my mind.
I shall send a messenger to the General
with a dispatch telling of your capture,
and then whatever he commands—that
I will I do. Meanwhile, sir, it is our
feast day. We are accustomed every
I year after the harvest to give thanks
1 to the Lord and to eat a great feast
j and to make merry in our families. I
w ill ask you to share this with us. You
I will be a prisoner, but I will take your
parole that you will make no effort to
escape."
"You do me honor, sir. I give my j
parole to you, and, if I may be per
mitted, to this fair maiden who has I
interceded for me."
They unloosed his thongs, and when ;
his hands were free he stepped up to
Mistress Thankful and he took her hand
and bended over it with the courtesy
and grace of one who had been accus
tomed to places where high breeding
and gentle manners prevailed.
| They had a tine feast at Captain Fol
som's table, and the British officer !
I being no longer under great restraint, j
j became most companionable and ven- j
! tured gentle jests with Thankful and '
| her cousin, Mistress Abbie, who served
the meats and bounties with gentle di"-
i nity and unconscious grace. And
when she turned to converse more se
riously with Captain Folsom upon the
war and its battles they—-Thankful and
Abbie—under pretense of some engage
i ment for the preparation of the des
sert, glanced furtively at him and ex
changed confidences that he was a
handsome man and well favored and
I moreover very young for one of his
stature and of his rank, for it was
"lain that he was a high officer.
In the afternoon there was gentle
merrymaking, nnd Captain Folsom,
being greatly impressed with the mau
j ifeat honor and nobility of his pria-
I oner guest, had such confidence that he
at last said: "Sir, I do uot know
whether your rank would permit me
I to cally<.u Captain or Mnjor or Colo
nel, for one of these offices I know
must be yours, You do not care to
tJI it* your nimeor j'ottr r#uk, but I
have that confidence in you that I am
willing to leave you for awhile with
these gentle guards, my daughter and
I my niece, for I have a mission of some
consequence in the village, which is u
few miles away,"'
id
"YOU ARE NO HPY," SHE SAID.
"I am grateful for your confidence,
sir, and shall not destroy it. While
these maidens guard me I shall protect
them until you return."
"Will you promise to obey us?"
asked Thankful in a merry mood.
"In all things," he replied, bowing
with grace, and yet with the mock
dignity of gentle sport.
"I exact only one promise, sir,"
said the Captain, "and that is that you
will not quit this house until my re
turn. "
"I give that promise willingly."
After Captain Folsom had gone
away the young officer sought even
the more earnestly to entertain these
maidens, and their intuition taught
them that their charms had found
favor in his sight, for he looked upon
them with admiring glances, although
with the greatest courtesy and defer
ence. He told them stories of Eng
land which they were pleased to hear,
and of life among the nobility there
and how the ways of those titled peo
ple differed from the simple customs
of their kindred in the American colo
nies, and he asked the maidens many
things about their manner of life, and
it was plain to see that Mistress Thank
ful had already won his high regard.
"Tell me," said he, "how is it that !
they call you Th vnkful? 'Tie a pretty '
name, and well given to you, I should '
say, but I never heard it before I heard '
them call you by it."
"But it is not my name," she said. I
j ''l have heard my mother say that on
i one Thanksgiving Day they sent to my 1
j father, who was in the church, and j
j bade him hurry home, and when lie i
i came home he found me there, though
1 was not there went he went away, \
and so he said, as he held me up: 'it I
is Thanksgiving Day. The Lord has
been good to me these many years, but j
he has been best to me to-day. So her
name shall be Thanksgiving since she |
is born upon tfoat dayand that, sir,
is my name, although they call me, for
the sake of shortness, Thankful."
She said this with such modesty an
with such delicious suggestion of grace,
and her cheeks were so gently flushed
and her eyes so bright, that the young
officer could not conceal the admira
tion for her which had seized him, and
when she perceived it she turned away
with gentle coquetry. Thus this
Thanksgiving afternoon, which had
promised to be so dreary a time for
him, was one of joy, and when the
shades of evening came and the candles
were lighted the maidens and the young
officer were like those who had been
long acquainted.
In the evening the girls brought ap
ples and nuts and cider, and they were
having a merry time, when of a sudden
Abbie arose and went to the door. Her
quick ears had detected a strange
sound. A moment later a lad came
panting into the room.
"Look out, Thankful; they are com
ing to attack you," he said, scarcely
I able to speak for lack of breath.
"They? Who? Who can attack us?"
" 'Tis Ben Williams and his gang.
'Twas yesterday that the cowboys cap
tured a lad—a cousin of Ben Williams
—and for some reason they hanged
him, and now Ben is bound to have
revenge, and he has heard that there is
a British officer here, and he swears
he'll have him hanged to a tree for re
venge."
A moment later a young man with a
musket in his hand entered the door
and he said : "Mistress Thankful, your
father left me here on guard unbe
known to you. There's trouble brew
ing, I fear. They are coming to take
the officer away and to do him harm.
Let him go with me and I will hid<
him."
Thankful brought the oflicer's cloak
and hat and bade him go, but to her
amazement he refused. "I cannot
go," he said. "I gave your father my
word of honor that I would not leav
the house till he returned."
"But you must. Ben Williams i& .
brute. He will take you out and kill
you, sir. Go under the escort of the
guard and he will take you where yon
can be concealed."
But the officer would not stir. lb
would only way that he had given his
j pledge and he would not break it. In
i an instant Thankful seem changed,
j and the officer, even in the suspense
I an( l terror of the moment, perceived
that she had assumed the manner o
I one who had authority and can exer
cise it. She stood erect, her head
thrown back, her eyes very bright,
j her cheeks now somewhat pale, and
she said : "You must go, sir. I com
i maud it, Go with him, Hark. Don't
you lwnr tlmt mob touting?
have not a moment to lose. And
then as he did not stir she went up to
him pleadingly and with gentle man-
I ner, not knowing seemingly what it
was she said or did; she put her hand
upon his arm with gentle touch, and
she said "Go, go; for my sake, go."
"For your sake?" he murmured,and
he seemed to hesitate, and then she
turned to the guard and hade him lead
the officer forth. But at that moment
the cry of the mob was so distinct that
it revealed that escape was impossible.
Thankful bade the guard step in and
bolt the door, and commanded him to
use his musket if anyone should try to
force an entrance. And even as she
spoke the door was forced and an ugly
face was protruded, and some one
shouted: "Come out, you redcoat!"
and would have said more had he not
been felled by the butt of the guard's
musket.
The door was closed and bolted, and
the guard stood with the manner of
defiance. In an instant Thankful had
made disposition of the officer. Be
fore he was aware what she was doing
she had led him to the settle in the
chimney corner, and she bade him to
be seated there. None too soon, for
the window was forced open and some
one shouted: "Come out, you cur,or
we will shoot you where you are!"
"Oh, you coward—you coward, Ben
Williams! He has done you no harm,
I and he is unprotected," and Thankful,
speaking thus, placed herself so that
she stood directly before the officer.
There was a crash, a confusion of
sounds, for they were trying to force
the door. The officer, then realizing*
that this fair maiden was protecting
him with her body, pushed her aside,
saying: "No, no; I cannot permit
this. You must not be injured. Let
me pass." At that moment a musket
was discharged, and the officer, per
ceiving that Thankful was reeling,
supported her in liis arms. She had
received the shot instead of him.
A moment later there was a mighty
shout, a great rushing noise, the door
was burst open and Captain Folsom
and some of his company entered.
"What is this? What is this?" he said.
"Ah, uncle. Ben Williams and his
gang are trying to capture the officer,
and they have shot Thankful as she
tried to prevent it," said Abbie, cry
ing bitterly.
"Williams, take him away; bind
him ; put him in the guardhouse with
his gang!" the Captain shouted, and
then kneeling down over the body of
his daughter he moaned, saying: "My
Thankful, my Thankful; oh, my
daughter, they have killed you!"
"They have killed her, sir, while
she was trying to save my life," said
the officer, and ho wept like a child.
But she was not dead. They lifted
her tenderly and carried her to her
room under the gable roof and when
they saw that she opened her eyes and
I that her lips moved they were re
, joiced, and there was a prayor of
; thanksgiving to God that He had
; spared her life that night.
A few days later the order came
! from the General instructing Captain
Folsom to deliver the prisoner under
his charge to the outposts of the Brit
ish army at the Bronx in exchange, for
it was demonstrated that he had told
the truth when he said that he had
strayed within the patriot lines by ac
cident.
As he was about to go away he said
to Captain Folsom : "I have one favor
to ask. May I see Mistress Thankful
for an instant alone?" It was permit
ted. He went and stood by her bed
side and took her hand, "Thankful,"
said he, "I am going away. It is not
right that I should speak to you except
in thanks, for I am an officer in an
army opposed to yours, but I may say
this: I heard your unconscious con
fession when you bade me go for your
sake, and your sweet words then ut
tered will be in my memory until 1
come back again when these battles are
over," and then he kneeled tenderly
over her and touched his lips to her
forehead.
When ho looked at her he saw the
glance of exquisite joy which she could
not conceal, and he perceived that
gentle tears were coursing down hei
cheeks, which she did not care to wipe
away, and he knew they were tears of
joy-
Six years later, on the afternoon of
Thanksgiving Day, a traveler dis
mounted from his horse in front of
Captain Folsom's forge—for the Cap
tain was a blacksmith in time of peace.
The traveler looked curiously about,
as though not sure that this was the
place lie sought, when his eyes rested
upon a maiden who was standing in
the doorway. It seemed to him as
though the picture which he had seen
in that identical spot six years before
on the day of his departure was there
again. He went up to her and said :
"Thankful, my Thanksgiving. I have
come."
"I knew you would," she said, and
with such gentle sweetness of mannei
that he took her to his arms.
It was a grievous sorrow to Captain
Folsom that his daughter Thankful
was compelled to leave him when she
married this man whose life she had
saved, but it was a joy for him to know
that she had a husband worthy of her.
She had married Sir John Sterling, and
he took her to his estates in England,
which were great, and there as long ae
they lived, and to this day among theii
descendants, the last Thursday ir
November in every year is celebrated
as a thanksgiving ceremonial, and in
the evening to the children every yeai
is told this romance of the day when
their grandfather and great grand
father met his Thanksgiving.
A Roman consular army comprised
t wo legions, each containing 4500 men.
Ihe unit of the legion was the mani
pulus, 100 men, commanded by a ceii
tnrion. The legion was commanded
by a tribune (brigadier general),
HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS,
CLEANING MARBLE.
A serviceable preparation for clean
ing marble is made by mixing soda,
pumice stone and finely powdered
chalk in the proportion of two parts
of the former to one of the latter. Pass
through a sieve and mix with water to
form a paste of creamy consistency.
Rub well on the marble and rinse with
water. —American Farmer.
SERVING COLD MEATS.
A very pretty luncheon table cannot
well have cold meatß upon it unless
these are particularly well aranged.
Haphazard slices will not do at all,
nor will even a liboral parsley garnish
help matters greatly. The daintiest
md the most picturesque way to serve
sold meats is to slice them and then
rearrange in bulk again. To do this
nicely a large piece of meat—say a tino
roast of beef—must be cooked and
then allowed to get very cold. When
•quite cold the beef is sliced all the
way across in mammoth slices, one by
Dne. When all the slicing is done the
pieces are carefully put in place again
just as they were when whole, and the
"roast" is apparently untouched. For
greater convenience in the serving the
entire piece of meat is cut once across
90 that the slices when taken off are
balf size instead of colossal in dimen
sions. A piece de resistance like a
full sized roast of beef in the centre
of a luncheon table is a stately thing
to gaze upon, and gives the guests the
comfortable assurance that the sub
stantial part of the feast is not to be
sacrificed entirely to delicacies.—New
Vork Telegram.
UTENSILS THAT ARE IMPRACTICABLE.
A new tin pie-plate, evolved by a
woman, has holes in the bottom to
ventilate the undercrust, and thus pre
vent it from becoming soggy. A
?rinkled rim of tin is laid over the
edges of the pie-crust to keep them
together and prevent the escape of the
juices. Being left-handed, I took
kindly, too, to a spider seen the other
(lay which has a lip on both sides.
Home other so-called improvements in
household utensils have little to rec
ommend them except that they are
new. Among them are a flour sifter
that may be fastened against the wall
and turned with a crank, a metal
kneading board which fastens to the
table so that it will not slip about, and
a wooden roller covered with Turkish
toweling for dusting hardwood floors
or carpets. The latter is not half as
good an arrangement for dusting as
the English dark-blue flannel kept pur
posely for hardwood floors, made into
a bag and kept on a broom, as it can*
not be used in the corners of a room.
When a damp cloth is to be used, it
would not equal a clean flannel cloth
in a self-wringing mop. Small meat
choppers, fruit-presses and evaporators
for drying fruit are really labor-saving
contrivances.
Too often complex pieces of help
fulness are only an added care and an
added expense. Before buying them
as a pleasing novelty they should
be carefully studied. All kitcheu
utensils should be as plain and simple
and as light weight as possible, for
the sake of tho person who lifts and
cleanses them each day.—New York
Post.
BOILED BEEF RECIPES.
Boiled Beef r la Laudaise—Take
some fine, .ripe tomatoes, remove the
top and scoop out the inside of each.
Chop it with garlic, parsley, lard and
the boiled beef of the previous day.
aid pepper aud salt. Season the in
side of the tomato with pepper aud
salt and till with the forcemeat. Place
in the oven, covering each tomato
with a bit of lard. Wheu two-thirds
cooked withdraw and dust over some
bread crumbs mixed with chopped
parsley. Brown and serve hot.
Boiled Beef with Lettuce—Take
some fine, firm heads of lettuce, strip
off the green leaves, wash aud blanch
in boiling water, and throw them into
cold water. When cold, squeeze in a
cloth to thoroughly dry, and with a
knife cut off the stalk from below,
being careful not to injure the heart.
Fill with forcemeat made of the beef,
some garlic, lard, salt, pepper,
chopped parsley, fresh bread crumbs
soaked in bouillon and one or two
eggs. Tie them up and cook without
adding water.
Boiled Beef a la Diplomate—Put
into a stewing-pan some butter, minced
onions, carrots, parsley and mush
rooms and place on a fire. Add a little
flour until the sauce boils; then let it
simmer for three-quarters of an hour.
Add an equal quantity of lobstei
broth, and boil down while constantly
stirring, until the sauce is smooth and
the proper consistency. Let the pieca
of beef cook for a good half hour in
this sauce, remove it, thicken with
butter rubbed up with chopped pars
ley and serve hot. The addition of s
teaspoonful of extract of meat will be
an improvement.
Hashed Beef a la Paysanne—Chop
four largo onions very fine and let
cook to a golden color in butter. When
nearly cooked dust over them a teas
poonful of flour and stir until the
whole is of a golden color, moisten
with bouillon of with diluted extract
of meat and a little red pepper. Cook
until the onions are done and the
sauce is boiled down. Then put in
the hashed beef, cook for a quarter ol
an hour, add a clash of vinegar and a
little mustard and serve.
Beef a la Vinaigrette—Cut the beef
in thin slices and put in a salad dish.
Cover with sliced anchovy or smoked
herring, chevril, parsley, chives, sweet
herbs, tarragons and chopped gher-
season with pepper, salt and oil.
Hervo without stirring.—New York
Recorder.
The leaf of the pineapple plant can
Lib wrought into ft sonimblo uloth,
SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL.
The fly lays four times each summer
and eighty eggs each time.
The descendants of a single female
wasp will often number 25,000 in one
season.
Female fish of all species are pon
siderably more numerous than males
with two exceptions—the angler and
the catfish.
The giant of the planetary system is
Jupiter, with a diameter of 275,000
miles at the equator, and a volume
12.34 times as great as that of the
earth.
The weight of a molecule of hydro
gen is approximately 0.000,000,000,-
000,000,000.04 of a gramme; the
atomic weight of iron is 0.000,000,-
000,000,000,000,002.2 gramme.
The blood in its natural state con
tains an amount of pure water that is
really astonishing to one who has not
given the subject attention—nearly
seven-eights of its entire bulk.
A non-venomous South African
snake lives entirely on birds' eggs.
Each egg is swallowed whole, and by a
muscular contraction of the gullet its
contents flow into the stomach, while
the shell is rejected by the mouth in
the form of a pellet.
It is stated that ordinary bricks
boiled in tar for about twelve hours,
or until they are satuated with it, are
increased about thirty per cent, in
weight, are much harder than common
ones and unaffected by frosts and acids
as well as perfectly waterproof. - They
form an excellent flooring for work
shops or storerooms, particularly in
chemical establishments.
Thero is a remarkable sympathy be
tween the eyes. So much is this the
case that any serious injury to the one
is almost certain to effect the other,
hence the necessity which often arises
for the removal of tho injured eye
mainly for the sake of saving the
other. This sympathy has been shown
to extend so far that color perceived
by one eye alone excites the retina of
the other.
In the colliery fields of South Staf
fordshire, England, hundreds of acres
of land are covered with shale or waste
material from mines. It is a kind of
slate-colored clay. This materia),
when ground and otherwise manipu
lated, proves to be an excellent ma
terial for the manufacture of bricks.
These bricks, when taken from the
kiln, are as uniform and rich in color
as those made from red clay, and their
qualities are of such a nature as to
assure an industry of considerable pro
portions.
Frogs, whether blind or not, become
dark green or black if they are kept in
a dark vessel in a sparingly-lighted
room, but when a larger branch with
green leaves is introduced into the
vessel, they all recover their bright
green color, whether blind or not. In
some way unknown the reflected green
light acts either upon the nerves of
the skin, or—what seems more prob
able, if JSteinach's experiments are
taken into account—directly upon the
pigment cells. Moreover, the sensa
tions derived from the toes have also
an influence upon the change of color.
When the bottom of the vessel is
covered with a felt or a thin wire net,
the frogs also become black, recover
ing their green color when a green
branch is introduced into the vessel.
(Criminal Festivals.
The great solemn popular festival
of the Rhonda included the annual
immolation of a victim. After three
days of indescribable orgies, in whiqh
women often participated dressed like
men and armed like warriors, tho vic
tim was bound to a stake in the midst
of the forest, and left there all night
alone; in the morning the people re
turned, with a great noise of bells and
gongs, singing and shouting; when
the multitude had become well intoxi
cated with the uproar, and greatly
excited by disorderly dances, the grand
priest would command silence and re
cite a long prayer, and would then
slay the victim, usually with a single
stroke of the knife. The multitude,
which had been waiting for that mo
ment, rushed upon the quarry with
* piercing cries, each one trying to tear
off a piece of the palpitating flesh, to
hack the body to pieces.
•• A criminal ceremony exists Among
the tribes of the interior of Sumatra,
which is without doubt the survival
of au ancient and very cruel custom,
that has passed in the course of time
into a civil and religious duty. These
people, although of rather gentle dis
position, piously and ceremoniously
kill and eat their aged parent, in tha
belief that they are performing a sa
cred duty. At the appointed day the
old man who is destined to be eaten
goes up into a tree, at the foot of
which are gathered the relatives and
friends of the family. They strike
the trunk of the tree in cadence and
sing a funeral hymn. Then the old
man descends, his nearest relatives
deliberately kill him, and the attend
ants eat him.
With some peoples aninjals take the
place of human victims; but what we
had said is sufficient to show that even
with these peoples collective crime
was formerly a solemn ceremony, al
though individual crime was already
regarded as something to bo con
demned.—Popular Science Monthly.
Most Crowded Spot on Earth.
The most crowded spot on earth is
the Manderaggio, which is one of the
quarters of Valetta, the capital of the
Island of Malta. In Valotta itself the
proportion is 75,000 to the square
mile, but in tho Manderaggio 2544
people dwell on a surface two acres
and a half in extent, and this gives no
less than (530,000 to the square mile, or
1017.0 to the Acre. In the most crowded
town in Great Brituin, Liverpool,
the proportion is only 116,4 to thf
-—New York PJpflt9h