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Air OLD STORY. other sat through sunset’s golden hours kdlng a wreath of faded orange flowers, , siihlng. said ‘ it was but yesterday ly babe \» lthln these fond arms lay; ohed its dimpled smiles, Its laughing yes, love halfjoy, and hall a glad surprise, ail unheeded, passing Time, so fleet, pe my lair babe, and left a maiden sweet, tor my sweet babe i shed not one sad teai breathed no sigh this maiden was so dear; , day by day t watched new charms uuiold scarce its weight of Joy my heart oould j.hold. rent.y years! How like a pleasant dream jlp ears of tenderness and wutcnlCg seem '• fcw, from all nay love she turns away 'fond heart known scarce a summer’s I 'day." i father came, He paused beside her chair; kissed tatr cheek, caressed the shining Lair, ten like a wooer, bent and whispered low, ‘Sweetheart, I pray thee do not sorrow so, (Dost thou remember one bright alternoon [When woods and fields were all aglow with June We wandered forth down by the river’s side, b, too, forgetting all the world beside? ‘Forgetting time, till in the darkening Rtream fe saw the first pale fights of evening gleam? |And while we watched them ’neath our trystlng tree kHast thou forgot, at my fond words to thee— f That when those lights that burned on high so far eked on the Charles and saw no answering star len shonld my love cease to be wholly thine'— |at thou didst leave thy mother’s heart for mine?" —E, E. Ikqbanam. tn Eligible Boarding-place. "No hotel?” said Mr. Percival £iavne. "Nothing in the shape of one,” an- rered his friend, Lucius Warden, pith the subdued triumph of one who inounces a startling fact. ‘I never heard of such a thing in ly life!” said.Payne. "Nor I neither,” serenely remarked harden. "But how do you account for it?” landed the would-be tourist, smit- ; his forehead in despair, don’t acoount for it at all,” said Wardeu, surveying the nails rhich he had Just been carefully trim- ling with a pen-knife, "except that [nobody knows anything about the [place as yet. There’s a factory—wall jper I believe, or something of that It—and a cignr shop, and a beer jp, and two thread and. needle )res, and a post office where the ills come twice a week ; and there’s Magalloway River, all carpeted jth water lilies, and half a dozen tie trout streams running into it, bit of the finest scenery you ever tw. But—there’s no hotel.” i“But where’s a fellow to stay?’ plplessly demanded Payne. ‘Get an outfit and camp out, as I said Warden, cheerfully. "A jket, a cauvas tent with pegs and >s, a little smudge of bran or pine- lies, to keep the mosquitoes off at It, |ut 1 don’t enj >y camping out,” lently remonstrated Payne. "I food walls, a feather pillow, and ir meals served three times a fell, then, look here,” said War- * Go to the Widow Buck’s. 8he boarders now and then.” tho is the Widow Buck ?” asked ,t, I don’t know,” replied his id where does she live?” iwra you have me agaiff.” alive! are you crazy!” de- sngly questioned Payne. “How ’’ain 1 to find her?” ‘Inquire,” calmly responded Mr. harden, as he shut up his knife and beplacvd it in his vest pocket. "Go Mallzie Ford—eleven a. m. train— itage coach—through in one day. Ask for the Widow Buck’s! Bless my '! nothing in the wide world could r easier. I always heard that people it good fare there and comfortable Ms. And Mailzie Ford isapeifict |little Paradise, when once you get there 1” “Welli” said Payne, dejectedly, “it seems a wild goose chase, but I’ve a luiiud to try it. A man can but come back again.” It was rather early in the season for the conventional operation known to the American public as "summering,” but Percival Payne, being a bachelor if independent fortune and cultivated »tes, felt that he could do as he Pleased. And it was rather a luxury r to anticipate the first mad rush of [travel, when all the seats are engaged, [the cozy corners taken, and the <nost lesirable points of observation usui ped. Bo he packei^jj^ vaiise, did up his fishing tutJi^^Hii a great stor started for the far northern wilderness of Mailzie Ford. Of course, the train wa-- late—trains always are late—and it was four o’clock in the afternoon when Mr Payne found himself perched up in an open box wagon behind two trunks, pack age of salt codfish, a mail bag, and a pretty girl, with eyes as soft as black pools of w’ater, and one of those odd, friugy bats of black straw, all covered with loops and ribbon that make peo ple look so picturesque. "Where do we meet the stage?” said Mr. Payne, as he settled himself so as to inconvenience his pretty neighbor as little as possible. The driver stared at him. "This ’ere’s the stage !” said he “Git up Sorrel!” Mr. Payne stared. “But stages have tops,” said he. "This ’ere stage don’t,” said the driver. It was rather a trying situation— steen uphill part of the way, and steep down hill the rest, with the codfish and the mail bag alternately tumbling into Mr. Payne’s lap, and the pretty gjrl laughing in her sleeve at his em- barrasment. "I’m rude I know,” said she, “but if you’d just tie that codfish to the back of the wagon, with your fishing line, it would not trouble you so much.” “A. good idea!” said Payne, briskly. "Thanks, very much for suggesting it!” "I’ve traveled over this road before,” said the pretty girl, laughing. “Are you going to Mailzie Ford ?” said Mr. Payne, with a sudden gleam of animation. "No,” said the pretty girl, "to Catley’sDam.” "Perhaps you know something about Mailzie Ford?” hazarded our hero. "Oh,yes!” said the nymph with the dark eyes. "It’s a lovely place! I used to live there before I went into the factory at Catley’s.” "Do you know the Widow Buck?” asked Payne, with interest “Very well,” nodded the pretty girl. And then they hegan to talk about the tall, blue crested mountains, which were beginning to close in around them. The dewy-eyed damsel had read Longfellow; she knew all about Thore tu ; she was even “up” in Rus- kin, and she expressed herself with grace and spirit, which set Mr. Payne to wondering if all the Maine girls were equally cultivated and beautiful. And then the codfish tumbled down again and had to be tightened anew, and by that time they had come to a house in the midst of a lonely belt of woods, which the driver said was “Catley’s Dam,” upon which the pretty girl disappeared in the purple twilight, Mr. Payne and the codfish went on, sorrowful, much jolted and alone. A glimpse of the beautiul Magallo way river by moonlight; the cry of the wild bird in the woods ; the noise of hidden cascades; a blur of lighted windows, which the driver said was the factory, down a blind lane, and checking the tired horses, at a one storied Btone house behind a wall of cedar trees, and then the Jehu cried out: “Now then, here we be. Widow Buck’s!” Mr. Payne got stiffly out, and help ed to unload the various parapherna lia of travel which belonged to him— all of them by this time considerably flavored with salt codfish. “Perhaps you had better wait,” said he, as the driver turned around and chirruped to his horses. “What for?” asked the man. "In case Mrs. Buck should not be able to accommodate me, or—” “Oh, it’s all right!” said the driver. “Bhe’ll take you in. Naomi would have told you else.” And away he drove, leaving our hero alone in the spectral moonlight, with a pile of luggage at his feet and a gaunt dog smelling at the Bkirts of his coat. “Who’s Naomi?” said Mr. Payne, addressing the moon. “And what would she have told me?” He raised an old fashioned brass knocker that hung at the door, and rattled it briskly. The gaunt dog left off smelling and began to bark. Pres ently, a tall, tliin woman, with a red pocket handkerchief tied on her head, with a opened kerosene lamp lie door. Vibe said, pejrh the young, 1?” nitia her hand, sharply at from the “All them traps your’n ?” demand ed the widow, abruptly. "Yes, madam,” Mr. Payne admits ted. " ‘Peers to mee it’s purty cheeky of you, mister, to take it for granted you’d be asked to stay,” said she. “I thought, madam—” “I’m a talking now,” said the widow sbarhly. ‘ To begin right straight at the beginning, we don’t know anything about you. You may be a bank-burglar, or a counterfeiter for all we know. “My references.” “Yes, I know, and them very refer ences is most likely forged But I’m willing to be reasonable. H >w old are you?” And Mr. Payne, secretly wondering if this was the way they managed things in Maine, answered meekly : “Two-and thirty!” “Ever been married before?” sharp ly questioned the widow. “Certainly not, madam! I am a single man !” answered Mr. Payne, with a justfiable spark of indignation in his manner. Any business?” went on his cate chist. “None, madam.” ‘ Well, I like that!” said the widow, with a scornful sniff. “Like your im pudence, to come here and own to such a disgrace as that! Except to live on me, l;ey ?” “Madam!” gasped Payne. “How d’ye suppose you are going to keep my Naomi, even if I allowed you to marry her? which I shan’t do, and don’t you to think it! She don’t care for you anyway. When she Heard you was coming she made up her mimd to stop off at Catley’s Dam to get rid of the sight of you. There. Sojust pick up your traps and go back agin in the way you come! You won’t never be a son-in-law of mine!” But while Widow Buck was volubly uttering these last glib sentences, a faint light began to dawn on Mr. Payne’s semi-obscured brain. “I think, Mrs. Buck,” said he, “that you must be laboring under a misapprehend on. My name is Per cival Payne. I am from Boston I was recommended here as an eligible boarding place, by Mr. Wardin, of 15 Peppermint Place.” Mrs. Buck nearly dropped her lamp in tier consternation. “Well, I never!” said she, instantly flinging the door wide open. “Please to walk in, sir. I’ll send the boy out after your truuks and things in half a minute. I beg your pardon, I’m sure, for mistaking you for Peleg Driggs, from Lowell, as was coming here after my daughter Naomi! She works in the Lowell mill, Naomi does. To think how ever I could have made such a blunder. Do walk in, sir!” And Mr. Payne was promptly intro duced to a delightfully little “interior” of reed carpet, round table spiead for tea, shaded lamplight, and a fire of logs, burning en an open hearth, to keep out the damp of the summer evening. After ten o’clock, when the wearied traveler was in bed, in a pretty little room, where there was an eight-day glock in a cherry-wood cs«e, and a carpet made of woven rags he heard the opening and shutting of doors be low, the clear sound of a familiar voice —the voice of his black-eyed travel- ing companion. “Well, mother did he come?” she asked. “Peleg didn’t come, but a young gentleman from the city came. And don’t you believe, I took him for Peleg, and I peppered away at him well I” "Oh, mother, what will he think?” cried the softer young voice. "I asked his pardon,” said the old lady, “and he took it ail as a joke.” And when Peleg Driggs himself,the next day,put in an appearance he was summarily dismissed. While Mr. Percival Payne and the fair Naomi were sitting by a trout-pool in the cool woods below; for Naomi knew all about the haunts and nooks of the neighborhood, and handled a fishing- pole most skillfully. Mr. Payne liked Mailzie Ford, and stayed there all summer. And as there were several boarders in the old stone house, Misz Naomi concluded mt to return to factory -life, but to stay and help with the^ housework ; and when autumn came she was engaged, —to Mr. Percival Payne. “The sweetest wild flower in the northern woodH,” he wrote to his friAd Warden. Warden went up to Mailzie Ford He was introduced to Miss Naomi. He agreed with his friend. "Bhe’s a little jewel,” said he. ou’re a lucky fellow, Payne. But I didn’t know when you wrote me that you were so well suited with ac commodations here—” "That f wa-< suiting myself for life!” interrupted Payne. “But you see that such was the fact.” Electric Lamps. If we examine oue of the electric lamps in the streets, we shall find it consists of two rids, one pointing up ward from the bottom of the lamp, the other hanging downward. The rods seem to touch, and the brilliant flame is exactly where they seem to meet. Once a day a man comes around with a bag of the rods. He takes out the old rods that were burned the night before, and places a new set in each lamp. After he lias gone about, as if he were puti ing new wicks into the lamps, and each is ready for its night s work, all the lamps are lighted in broad day, to see that every one is in proper trim. They are allowed to burn until the men have walked about in the streets and looked at each lamp. If a 1 are burning well, they are put out till it begins to grow dark. If one fails to burn properly, a man goes to tha f lamp to see what is the mat ter. The rods are made of a curious black substance like charcoal, that is called carbon. When the lamp is out the two rods touch each other. In order to light the lamp they are pulled apart; and if you look at the flame thiough a smoked glass, you will see that the rods do not quite touch. There is a small space between their points, and this space is filled with fibre. Look at the other parts ef the rods, or the copper wires that extend along the stretts. They have no light, no heat, no sound. The wireB are cold, dark and silent. If we were to push the two rods in the lamp close together, the light and heat would d sappear, and the curious hiss ing sound would stop. Why is this? Let us go into the woods near some brook, and it may be that we can un derstand this matter. Here is the brook, flowing quietly along, smooth, deep and without a ripple. We walk beside the stream, and come to a place where there are high rocks, and 6teep, stony banks. Here tae channel is very narrow, and the water is no longer smooth and silent. It boils and foams between the rocks. There are eddies and whirlpools, and at last we come to the narrowest part of all. Here, the once dark and silent water roars and foams in white, stormy rapids. There are sounds and furious leaping and rush ing water and clouds c f spray. What is the matter? Why Is the smooth, dark water so white with rage, so im petuous,, so full of sounds and tur moil? The rocks are the cause. The way is narrow and steep. The waters are hemmed in, and there is a grand display of flashing white foam and roaring water-falls, as the waters struggle together to get past the nar row place. It is the tame with the electricity flowing through the large copper wires. It passes down one wire into the other, through the lamp, in silenct and darkness, so long as the rods touch and the path is clear. When the rods in the lamp are pulled apart, there is a space to be got over, an ob struction, like rocks in the bed of the brook. The electricity, like the water, struggles to get over the hindrance in its path, and It grows white-hot with anger, and flames and hisses as it leaps across the narrow space between the rods. There is another kind of electric lamp, used in houses ; it has a smaller and softer light, steady, white and beautiful. In these lamps, also, we have some thing like the narrow place in the brook. They are made with slender loops o^ carbon, inclosed in glass globes. The electricity, flowing si lently through a dark wire, enters the lamp, and finds only a narrow thread on which it can travel to reach the home-going wire, aud, in its struggle to get past, it heats the tiny thread of carbon to whiteness. Like a live coal, this sleuder thread gives us a mild, soft light, as long as the current flows. It seems calm and still, but it is en during the same fury of the electricity that is shown in the larger lamps. This is the main idea on which these lamps are made : A stream of electric ity Is sit flowing from a dynaino-elec- trio machine through a wire until it meets a narrow place or a break in the wire. Then it seeks to get past the obstruction, and there is a grand put ting forth of energy, and in this way the electric force, although Itself invis- I lbl-*, is made known to our eyes by a beautiful light. Science—Expermental and Otherwise. To prepare a reliable mucilage for adhesive labels dissolve by aid of beat two ounces of dextrine in a mixture of one ounce of acetic acid aud five ounces of water. When solution is effected and the mucilage lias cooled add one ounce of alcohol. Special poisons are secreted by the toao, salamander, newt, etc. M. Paul Bert has collected a liquid from the glands on the neck of the frog, which caused the death, with convul sions, of a sparrow to which the sub stance had been administered. A good cement tor glass is gelatine or glue treated with bi-chromate of potassium. The mixture must be made in tbe dark. The pieces are pressed together for some time and then exposed to the sun. The cemen ted glass will noj be effected by warm water. The latest invention reported by a Jat aneseljournal is that of Otsuka Minakichi, who, after extensive ex periments, is said to have succeeded In making rifles of silk. They are des cribed "a* rigid as iron guns, while they are easy of carriage and have a very long range.” Tbe Journal of Science makes the statement that no beautiful or useful organic species, animal or vegetable, becomes naturalized in any country without human intervention, while the ugly and the noisome contrive te extend their range in spite of man’s efforts to the contrary. Claus Spreckles, of Honolulu, Ban- wich Islands, was laughed at a few years ago when he purchased 10,000 acres of land situated at the foot of a volcano, at 10 cents an acre. He broke up the lava dust and mixed it with vegetable mold, irrigated and planted sugar cane, and new Spreckles is a millionaire. In coppering caaMron M. Weil usee a bath of copper sulphate rendered strongly alkaline with an organic acid added to prevent the. precipitation of copper oxide. To effect the same ob ject MM. Mignon and Ronati employ a distinctly acid solution of a double salt of copper and any alkali with an organic acid. M. G. Delaunay has been studying tbe influences exercised by the greater or less intensity of tbe nutri tive phenomena in cases of poisoning by strychnine. Equal doses of strych nine were given to two frogs, one of which had been kept active for a half hour previously. The poison took ef fect more quickly and more actively upon this one than upon the one that had been quiet. In another experi ment tbe poison operated more slowly and more lightly upon a frog that had been bled than upon the other one, which had not been hurt. When one of the frogs was bled after taking tbe poison it exhibited a ten dency to return to the normal condi tion in a measure as it lost blood. The Journal of ChemUtry thinks that if Latin is to be retained for the pharmacopoeial nomenclature, it had better be grammatical Latin. Those who know tne language should not be compelled to use a barbarous burlesque of its forms, in order to spare others the small effort necessary for master ing a few inflections and construct ions. Let the changes in the nomen clature be in clearness, accuraoy, preciiion and conformity to modern science—changes which are obviously for the better, but let “dog Latin” Ire left to those who have never learned, or, haply, have forgotten, the gram matical kind. The best ef this pres cription Latin is bad enough to a classical scholar, and to make it worse, deliberately systematically, would be intolerable. The experiments instructed by M. Pictet to determine tbe density of li quid oxygen, hydrogen and nitrogen, have been followed up by Messrs. Cailletet and Hautefeuille, who hav« facilitated the processes by previous!,! mixing the gases with carbonic aci( and protoxide of nitrogen, where! the liquefaction is made to take pit more readily. The density of the quids of the latter gases being kno\ it is easy to compute that of the si stances under examination. The suits of tests made at a very low tei perature are favorable to the theory^ the relations that have been sugges between hydrogen aud magnesh oxygen and sulphur, nitrogen phosphorus ; but, as the freezing-pol] of water is approached, discrepant are manifested which grow inorj more accentuated. At Marlboro, Mass., Lewis T* the ohqpipion bioycle rider ol United B ates, was thrown froj bicycle and had his skull fr fcHe will probably djj