There's a little mischief-maker That is stealing half our bliss, Sketching pictures of a dreamland, Which are never seen in this; Da-hing from our Hps the pleasure Of the present while wo sigh— You may know this mischief-maker, For his name is, " By and By." lie is sitting by our hearthstones, With his bewitching glance, WhhperiDg of the coming morrow, As the social hours advance: Loitering mid our calm reflections, Hiding form • of beauty nigh- He's a smooth deceitful fellow, This enchanter, "By and By." { A Teipraiy Substitute's Pennaoeut Place. ' Felix Livingstone was not in a good temper. He had a fortnight's leave, which duty required hira to spend with his maiden aunt in *fco country, while in clination strongly urged him to go up to town in order to see the girl lie loved. Hut on this occasion duty had to be considered, for Miss Drury, the aunt in question, was a wealthy old lady, and he was practically depen dent upon her. All things considered, however, Fate had not been so very unkind to Felix. Left an orphan at an early age, he had been adopted by his mother's el der sister, who had done her duty nobly by him. Now at the age of twen ty-live he found himself a subaltern in one of the line regiments, with a handsome allowance from his aunt, and every prospect of becoming her heir. But —there is always a "but" in most people's lives —although Miss Drury had been more than liberal to her nephew and forebore to exercise any but a very nominal restraint over his actions, yet she had given him to understand that she meant to exert her authority in one important mat ter, namely, the question of his mar riage. In due course of time she intended Felix to become master of Wood lands, her beautiful old house, and since his wife would occupy her place as mistress, -Miss Drury meant to lira it, if not direct, her nephew's choice of a bride. She did not approve of the modern woman, the up-to-date girl, with uer cigarette and her slang, her talk of golf and bridge, her contempt for needlework, and all things pertaining to domesticity. Felix could see in his mind's eye the wife his aunt destined for him—a meek and modest young woman of ultra-refined speech and ap pearance, and always with a piece of fancy work between her lingers—and he shuddered at the picture. Then he thought, with a sudden tightening of his heart, of Kitty Bellairs, as he had seen her last summer at the house of a broth or officer —beautiful, mis chievous, high-spirited, a keen tennis player, a brilliant horsewoman, full of life and laughter. She had charmed the young man's heart out of him, and though Felix tried desperatcdly hard to banish her from his memory, ab sence, in this case, had certainly made the heart grow fonder. "I daren't tell Aunt Minnie about Kitty," thought the young man discon solately. "Of course if she knew her as I do she couldn't help but love her although she isn't quite her style, but I don't see how ever they are to meet, since my little darling knows no one in this neighborhood, and Aunt Min never will come up to town." In the depths of his heart Felix was genuinely fond of the old lady, who had so generously mothered him all his life, and he was therefore ra'her disconcerted to find when he reached Woodlands that Miss Drury was very much perturbed and upset about something. Generally his aunt was a very dainty looking little old lady, ex quisitely dressed, and the perfection of a hostess. But on this particular afternoon she greeted her nephew in an absentminded fashion, her cap slightly awry, her cheeks flushed, and her beautiful old hands trembling. "Why, Aunt Minnie," said the young man anxiously, "whatever Is the matter?" "Oh, my dear Felix," replied the old lady, looking into his handsome faco with troubled blue eyes, "I have had such a dreadful upset. Two of the housemaids are down with influenza, and now Parkins, who is quite invalu able, has declared she can hold up no longer, and has gone to bed seriously 111, 1 fear." Felix gave a whistle of dismay. Par kins was cook-housekeeper at Wood lands, and the pivot upon which the rest of the household turned. She was an exceptionally good cook, and ho knew that his aunt prided herself that her dinners were unsurpassed in the neighborhood. "I would not have minded had we been alone," continued Miss Drury. "but the house is full of people, and I have a large dinner party tomor row." "What a catastrophe." exclaimed her nephew, sympathetically, who knew how vexed was Miss Drury's orderly mind when any household affairs went wrong. "Can't you get a woman from the village to help?" "Of course I can, but you don't know what these village women are like, my dear Felix; dirty incompe tent creatures, and as incapable of sending up a dinner as you are. No, I must just leave Susan, the kitchen maid, to do her best; but I know I chall he disgraced tomorrow, and I do not mind so much, if my guests don't have tno host of everything. And to make matters worse, that greedy old Sir Gregory is coming, and te always says ho never dines so well anywhere as here. You don't know of BY AND BY. When the calls of du'y haunt m, And the present seems to be All of time that over mortals Snatch from long eternity; Then a fairy hund seems puinting Pictures on a distant sky— For a cunning little artist Is this fairy, "By and By." By and By, the wind is singing; By aud By, the heart replies; But the phautom just before us, lire we grasp it, ever flies. List not to the idle charmer, Scorn the very specious lie; This deceiver, " By and By." New Orleans Picayune. a cook that you can recommend by any chance, do you, Felix?" she asked, desperately. This wistful appeal touched the young man's heart. As a rule, a sub altern home on leave is not the per son one would naturally apply to for a cook, but Miss Drury was at her wits' end. Felix knitted his brows and thought hard for a minute, at the end of which time a brilliant inspiration came to him. "Look here, Aunt Minnie," he ex claimed suddenly, "don't you worry any more. I'll go straight up to towri first thing tomorrow, and I'll find you a cook somehow, and bring her back with me in the afternoon. Miss Drury looked at her nephew with tears in her eyes. "Felix," she said solemnly, "if you get me out of this difficulty you may ask me for any thing in the world." Felix was as good as his word. Ho departed for town directly after break fast next morning, smiling good-hu moredly at the chaff of his fellow guests, and reappeared triumphant in the afteroon proudly escorting the now cook. "I've brought her. Aunt Min," he announced, rushing excitedly into Miss Drury's boudoir. "She was at the Rawson's last summer, and an uncom monly good cook she is. Blair is her name, it's a great piece of luck that she was disengaged, you know." Miss Drury went hurriedly down stairs to inspect the new arrival and to explain to her the arrangements for the evening's dinner. "I was a little taken aback at first," she said latter on to her nephew. "Blair looks so young and so pretty, and so—er —refined, but she seems very capable and fully qualified to send up an excellent dinner." "Yes," replied Felix, eagerly, "she has had a course of cooking lessons at South Kensington. I believe she is no end of a swell at it." "Really, my dear boy," said Miss Drury. looking affectionately at her nephew. "I am most touched by the interest you have shown in this domes tic difficulty and the trouble you have taken. If only Blair does not falsify our expectations I shall owe you a debt of gratitude." The dinner proved an immense suc cess, and even Miss Drury had to con fess that. Parkius could not have done better. As for Sir Gregory, he chuckled with delight and went stead ily through the menu from beginning to end. "Really, my dear Miss Drury," he said when at length he was obliged to desist, "that cook of yours has sur passed herself. I don't know when I have eaten a better dinner; that souf fle was simply a work of art." Only one contretemps marred the harmony of the evening, and fortun ately Miss Drury did not witness this little incident, as it occurred when the lading had retired to the drawing room. Felix was doing the honors of his aunt's table when the sound of a scuf fle arrested his attention, and with a hasty exousp to his gucst3 he loft the room and rushed into the passage, where he found an ardent young foot man trying vainly to embrace a very angry but bewitchlngly pretty young woman in a white cap and apron. "You impudent wretch!" she was saying, "how dare you try and kiss me? Mr. Livingstone, help!" Felix turned on the man in a per fect fury and dragged him away. "John," he said, looking as if he could have killed him with pleasure, "leave that lady alone at once and clear out. Here are your wages. Go!" The man gazed at him, dumb with surprise. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Felix," he stammered at length, "I meant no 'arm. I often used to kiss Mrs. Par kins. I didn't know as 'ow Miss Blair would mind." The cook's angry face relaxed, and she burst into a peal of laughter, in which, after some hesitation, Felix joined. "Never mind. John," she said, "I'll forgive you this once, only don't try it again. I dare say Mr. Felix will 1 al low you to stay if you behave your self." Felix nodded impatiently, and the man fled to the lower, regions, but. it was some minutes before "Miss Biair" took her place at the servants' hall supper looking rather flushed, or he tore Felix rejoined the men in the Jin ing-room. Parkins's illness lasted a week, and throughout that time Blair continued to charm the palates of the inmates of Woodlands. Ail the same, Miss Drury was rather relieved when the last day of the temporary cook's stay came, for try a3 she would to disbelieve the evidence of her senses, there v/as no disguising the fact that Felix was al ways hanging about the Kitchen on come pretext or another. That her nephew could so far forget what was duo both to himself and to her, ns to even carry on a mild flirtation with a servant, Miss Drury would not allow for a moment. Her horror can there fore be better imagined than describ ed when, on descending to the kitchen the last afternoon for the purpose of paying Blair her wages, she saw o opening the door, a pretty, white capped head reposing on her nephew's shoulder, while his arm was tenderly clasping an aproned waist. "Kitty, darling," she heard him say tenderly, "I couldn't let you go away without telling you I loved you. I know I ought not to have done so, for goodness only knows when I shall be able to marry you." "Do you think Miss Drury will be very angry?" asked the girl. Miss Drury coughed, and at the omi nous sound the guilty couple started apart and looked with dismay at the intruder. The old lady's face had turned very white, and Felix, cut to the quick by her piteous expression, crossed the room hastily and took her hand, i "Don't look so shocked, Aunt Min nie," he said; "this is not a cook real ly; it is the lady I love —Miss Kitty Bellairs, I met her at the Kawson's last summer and fell in love with her and I knew she could cook beautifully, so when you were in such a fix I asked her to como and help. We—we mought, perhaps, you might take a fancy to her and ask her to stop." "Are you Archie Bellairs's daugh ter?" asked Miss Drury, in astonish ment. "Yes," said the girl gently, "he is dead, you know, and I am an orphan and very poor—but 1 love Felix." The old lady's eyes grew very wist ful and tender as she remembered the far-off days of her youth when pov erty had stood between her and the one whom she loved—Archie Bellairs. She took the girls hand and smil ingly put it into that of her nephew. "So do I, my dear," she said, "and I am sure you will make him an excel lent wife. I shall be exceedingly glad to offer the temporary substitute a permanent place in my household."— New York News. GUAINT AND CURIOUS. There is one United States mail car rier who is paid *35,1100 a year by Un cle Sam. He carries mail between Eagle and Valdery, Alaska, 414 miles, and, although, his experiences are hair-raising, he thinks well enough •( his job to renew the contract. Floods in the Amur river in East Siberia have swept bare a burial ground of remarkable interest, con taining many skeletons in curious chain armor, and with iron battle axes and sword hilts of bronze, which are supposed to be the remains of an j ancient Tartar horde. j The working of coal in China dates : from a very ancient period. The ear | Best notice is by the celebrated trav ! eler, Marco Polo, toward the close of : the thirteenth century. The laborious researches of Baron von Richthofen leave no doubt that there are large de posits of coal. These vast resources are not utilized by the Chinese, ow ing to their unskillfulness in mining | and to the absence of roads. A Jxmdon justice has just made an j important decision regarding dress makers' disputes. He will not havs dresses tried on in court because "he had long since come to the conclusion that with ordinary dresses any lady could wear a dress to make it look as | if it did not fit," and he was also per fectly satisfied that "any milliner or dressmaker could pull it about and I make it fit when it did not do so." i Among the antique tribes of prime l val Canaan and Phoenicia the mythol ogy of the lower regions named Beel zebub as the patron demon of the fly, I which has been so grievous a pest | from r imitive times to the present Was there ever a protective fiend for | the flea in any ancient mythology? ' However thaL may have been, London the world's capital, has been anathe matizing countless hosts of fleas in re cent weeks, while the annoying insect 3 of Beelzebub have been unusually and : amazingly few and feeble. Odd, isn't ! it? Tlie wicked flea—but why pursue : the subject? I "Odd resemblances to various ob jects, which can only bo regarded as accidental coincidences, are presented by a number of fungi," says Rev. A. S. Wilson, in Knowledge. "There is the Jew's ear fungus, which grows on i stumps of the elder, and is so named [ from its unmistakable likeness to a \ human ear. The Geasters are curious ly liko starfish; Aseroe has an extraor j dinary resemblance both in form and ! color to a set-anemone; equally re markable Is the likeness to a bird's nest seen in species of Crucibulum, Cyathus, and Nidularla. The most of j these are too small to impose on one, j the resemblance is singularly exact, and a largo specimen might almost pass for the nest of some small bird, the eggs being admirably represented by the little oval fruits of the fungus. ! Even in such cases wo must not too | rashly conclude that the resemblance confers no advantage. The existence lof attractive characters in so many fimgl points to the conclusion that the | same principles aro in operation | among them as among flowering ' plants. Numerous facts indleaie a j tendency in fungi to assume a gulso j which helps cither to protect the plant I or to promote tho fertilization,, germi . nation, or dispersion of its spores. If, | as some mycologists believe, spores liencflt through being swallowed by | animals, If Is easy to understand how i a fungus might profit by being mts : taken even ior a bird's nest containing j egge." j When a fellow bundles counterfeit j money it makes him teei "queer." I FOLLOWING THE TRAIL SOUTHWESTERN SCOUTS ARE KEEN ER THAN BLOODHOUNDS. Tracked Indian-* Over Rock—Soldiers T.ed Over Ground a* Hard an Asphalt, Where No Hiunn of Fugitive)* Appeared —Awful Hardships That Must Re Endured. One of the things of which humani ty has long stood in wonder is the ex traordinary smelling faculties of the bloodhound, and the manner in which he is able to trail criminals over ground of almost every character long after the scent has become cold. Few, however, realize that in New Mexico and Arizona, and also northern Mex ico, there are men who tar surpass the bloodhound when it comes to trail ing. Men who served during the campaign against Geronirno and the hostile Apaches, many of them expert trail ers, were from day to day overwhelmed with astonishment at the almost super human instinct of the Mexican and Indian scouts, who on that memorable campaign followed the fleeing Apaches over sand deserts harder than asphalt and floors of solid rock upon which the pursuing soldiers were unable to see so much as a trace of passing horsemen. One of the military organizations that performed meritorious service in that campaign was Troop B of the Fourth cavalry, which, in 1887, was, byway of reward transferred to Fort Myer, Va., which from that time forth has been a cavalry post, this being tho first, body of cavalry that had been east of the Mississippi river since the civil war. In talking recently with a mem ber of this body a Post reporter learned much of interest concerning the human sleuth hounds that were employed in the southwest in those days. "Yes," said the sergeant, "I served all through the latter part of the Ger onirno campaign under General Law ton, who was then a colonel. We are out six months, and during that entire period not one of us had a change of clothing. Tho campaigning was through one of the most mountainous countries in the world. Sometimes we would climb up the side of an almost perpendicular slope, and at other times the descent was so steep that we were obliged to let our horses down over ledges of rocks by lariats tied to their tails. "Accompanying our command were about 100 friendly Indians, enlisted and used as scouts. Talk of trailing— why, I never until then dreamed that it was possible for human being to do what these men did every day of the campaign. Ferquently we would de scend mountains, along the slope of which old scouts of my company were able to barely make out the trail of the Apaches, until we reached a valley about half or three-quarters of a mile in width, the surface of which was as hard as adaihant. Here we could see nothing, but \he scouts ahead, on com ing to such places, never hesitated one minute, but struck boldly across, fol lowing the trail up the mountain side again. "As wo crossed these valleys and mounted once again up the side of the high ridges, we could again catch traces of the Apaches in the softer and looser soil of tho mountain side, and many a time we have wondered at how our Indian trailers were able to follow the track on ahead of us over the valleys, where the surface was as hard as asphalt and crossed by fresh trails of hundreds of cattle, horses and burros that had passed up or down the depression after the In dians. "The most remarkable case of trail ing that over came under my notice, however, occurred in ISB7, when the San Carlos Apaches broke out of their reservation and wont op tho warpath south into Mexico. This occurred shortly after the Geronimo campaign, at a time when the war department had discharged all the Indian scouts attached to the southwestern posts, thinking that the trouble was all over, and that there, would he no longer any use for them. Consequently, when we received a hurry order at Fort Hauchu ca to go in pursuit of the San Carlos Apaches we were obliged to leave with out taking any of these human blood hounds with us. "We soon began to feel the need of them, for although two-thirds of the men in the command were accom plished scouts they could not begin to do the work with the skill and certain ty of the Indian scouts trained to the work from infancy. "Along about the eighth day out we crossed a range of mountains into one of the most peculiar depressions I ever saw. It was surrounded on all sideß by high mountains, but the singular (feature was that the bottom rose up like an inverted bowl. This curious formation was solid rock that in some past period of time had been lifted up and tilted in such manner as to leave no hollows in which sand or soil could gather. Up to this time we had made slow progress tharking Indians, but when we reached this spot we gave up the task in disgust, as there were no earthly means, so far as we could see, of tracking them across such an ex panse of naked stone. "We sat down to think matters over, when Col. Lawton, in stirring about, ran across an old Mexican riding along on his burro. The colonel asked him if he would be our scout and whether he felt himself capable of taking up and following the trail of the Indians. The old fellow gave a grunt of as sent, and two minutes later had found the trail, and, to our unspeakabel as tonishment. was leading us almost on n run across the barren spot, and up the mountain. It was then 2 o'clock p. m., and he led us in a trot from that time ou until 5 p. m., when we caught sight ot the Indians enamped in a hol low. We charged down upon them, but failed to make a capture, as they saw us in time to escape. "This old Mexican served as our trailer for the rest of this brief cam paign until we linally overtook and captured our recalcitrant Indians. In all that period he never once missed we frequently passed over places where no signs of tracks were apparent to us. This, to my mind, was the most wonderful piece of trailing I ever saw. "One thing about the southwestern Indian is that he can endure what would kill three white men. In our pursuit of Geronimo we at one time went without water 48 hours. The rains in that country occur in the spring and winter, and all over the country are deep holes in the rock, in which water collects during the rainy season and stands all the year round until the next winter, and it was upon such places that we had to de pend for our supply of water. You have no idea of what the water in these holes is like. It fairly swarms with tadpoles and wiggle-tails, but to us it tasted sweet enough. Whenever we reached these natural wells Gen. I.awton used to place a guard around them to prevent the men from wasting the water, which was doled out by a sergeant as long' as it lasted. Some times when we would camp in the bed of a dried-up creek, the men would spend the whole night digging holes in the sand in which about a pint of water would collect in three or four hours. "The vegetation of the southwestern country is peculiar in that nearly every growing thing has thorns on it. The result was that long before the six months of our campaign was ended over half of our command were partly naked. All I had was a pair of pants and shoes and a ragged hat, the rest of my clothing having been torn to shreds. It used to amuse me when passing through a Mexican village to hear Gen. Lawton shout: 'Boys, straighten up and try to appear as decent as you can.' Of course, all thar we could do was to throw out our chesta and look brave with what few worn and delapidated clothes we had on our backs. "I accompanied Gen. Lawton as a member of the guard that took Geron- Imo and his band to St. Augustine, Pla. These Indians had never been on a railroad train in their lives, and it made them seasick. In fact, their ill ness became so serious that we had to stop 10 days at San Antonio to let them recover. In this the Indians showed up at the little end of the en durance question, but take them in their native mountains and they can stand anything. . I think, though, that another six months of the kind of campaigning that'we underwent on this trip would have made us hardier than they. "The hardships that we stood were something awful. On one occasion, when we had been without food for 48 hours, we found a cow that the In dians had killed, and the carcass of which had laid out in the sun for four days. We drove the buzzards away, and though the meat was decidedly 'ripe,' we ate it. Gen. Lawton saw what we were doing and sent an or derly to tell us to leave the meat alone, that it would make us sick But we sent him a steak, which he ate that evening, saying that he had never tast ed better in his life. On another occasion we lived on dried apples and beans, without salt, mind you, for IB days."—Washington Post. THE DESTRUCTIVE WOLF. Females Kill Seeinlncly from Pure He alro to Slny. It lias long been a question among the intelligent cattle breeders of New Mexico and Arizona, whether or not the black wo'.f of those regions and the white one that occasionally occurs are n f 0,0 wolf tribe, or simply a natural variation in color in i,y u.... unknown cause. The few white wolves the writer has seen, and these were observed away back in !880, appeared to be larger than their fellows in gray and black, while the black wolf seemed taller than either of the others and swifter, but not so heavy. The Mexican sheep herders, who are very close observers in mat ters that personally interest them, say that in destructivenoss the white anu black wolves far exceed the ordinary big gray animals. How this may be or whether it is true or not is a matter that the writer has never been able to satisfactorily verify. Tho one thing he does know is that in a litter of live young wolves two were very much darker in hue than the ethers, and gave every indication of a determina tion to a deep black when they had at tained to their full maturity in size. One fact in wolf life is established beyond any doubt. The female wolf is more destructive than the male. She seems to kill out of a pure love of de structiveness. One female wolf, on the borders of New Mexico and Ari zona killed in one night over 40 sheep belonging to a Mexican shepherd. It made no attempt to eat any portion of the sheep thus destroyed. Their throats wree simply bitten half through, and this killing was accomplished within one hundred yards of the Mexican Ja cal or sleeping place, a clay built hut, with its owner reposing within it. It was a dark or rather a pitchy black night, with a heavy electric storm of thunder and lightning in progress, with an occasional fall of a few drops of rain. Tho language used by this shepherd next morning when he wit nessed the destruction exhausted the Mexican-Spanish vocabulary in invec tives, which is not excelled by any tongue upon earth.—William Hugh Robarta in Shooting and Fishing. PEARLS OF THOUCHT. There is not a moment without some duty. Taste is at. acquired thing. Courte sy is inherited. As many vices come from things neglected as from things too highly esteemed. There is :to great achievement that is not the result of patient working—®" and waiting. I Temperance is like a tree that has for its branches contentment, and for its fruit peace. The more perfect a piece of work the more imperfections the imperfect mind can see in it. Call no man or woman your friend to whom you cannot say, Let us both try to make this our beautiful friend ship for life or death. There are two sorts of content; one is connected with exertion, the other with habits of indolence; the first is a virtue, the other a vice. Work in spite of yourself, and make a habit of work; and when the habit of work is formed it will be transflgi ured into the love of work; and at last you will not only abhor idleness. but you will have no happiness out < J, Lie work which then you are con-' strained from lovo to do. THE "NOTARIE'S NCSE" RECALLED. French Scientist Heconntruct* a Jsoy' Siut-Uintr Oican. Scientific Paris is just now directing solemn attention to a recent paper read by Prof. Berger, the eminent sur geon, to the Aeademie do Medicine, re lating an experiment he had made ou a young boy who had lost his nose In an accident. The professor recon structed the organ from flesh from the patient's arm and skin from his brow. The experiment has been described as a daring surgical feat, and there is an evident impression that it is some thing new in the annals of surgery, but readers of Edmond About's amusing volume, "Le Nez d'un Notaire" will re- 1 member the disquisition it contains "rhinoplastie," or the art of restoring lost noses, and will recollect that the notary who Is the hero of the story had to remain for some days with his nose attached to the forearm of a brawny Auvergnat water carrier, from whose flesh his nasal organ was recon stituted. Making a new nose is a very ancient operation in India, sagely affirms a Paris paper, and European science has adopted it almost without change from the immemorial practice there. There are now the Indian, French and Italian methods, varying only in de tails, but the processes were familiar to the Oriental operator an indefinite number of centuries ago. But it was not an open secret. A few families living in the mountainous district of Kangra, famous for tea nowadays, kept the "mystery" to themselves, :.HiLt thither patients must journey, unlessx they were rich enough to send for a practitioner. These hereditary nose makers are called Ktiangars; they still exist, and do perhaps a larger business than ever, for British justice has not yet succeeded in convincing the out raged Hindoo that he ought not to take vengeance by biting off his wife's nose. Iterorm of Crlmlmtlx. At a meeting of the National Prison congress, held recently in Philadel phia, The chairman of the committee on discharged prisoners said that the treatment of the criminal is by proba tion, confinement, reformation and re adaptation. The first of these is rec ognized as of the highest value in the case of the first offender, especially if he is a juvenile. Confinement is gen erally practiced throughout all lands and its visible sign is our priso. V Iteformation is recognized as at! J ory by most of us, and its practice \s/ attempted in a number of prisons. Re adaptation, or readjustment to the con ditions of the outside world is one of the most important parts ol this work. Yc-t few states have recognized it, and in many individual effort for helping the discharged prisoner is not even or ganized. It appears that these efforts at reformation which have so far been made consist of separation of young men from older criminals, separate prisons for male and female offenders, and the indeterminate sentence. A strong plea was made, and we think correctly, for a more universal appli cation of the indeterminate sentence. Particularly should this be applied to the one who has committed his first of fense. How different is the probabili ty of complete and permanent refor mation in ono who goes from prison repentant, and whose reformation I - ~L as it were, vouchsafed by the author! w ties, and the one v/ho has sullenly com pleted his sentence, measured in months or years, and who goes forth to do battle with the world with everv man's hand against him.—American Medicine. Tlix 111,., or Modorn Koine. Visitors who have net been in Rome for the last 20 years, writes the British consul there, can scarcely recognize "Suburbs have risen over the vine yards outside the city walls, old quar ters have been superseded by large and commodious buildings; the Tiber is permanently imbedded all along its urban course between two gigantic embankments on which fine houses, overlooking the river, have been con structed; solid granite bridges, meant ' .o defy the ravages of time and the im petus of the onco dangerous Tlbor, have been thrown across the two em bankments: new and wide thorough fares have been opened; ill ono word the city has boon completely modern ized and rendered in all respects quite snnitary, as shown by the returns of mortality."
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers