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DAH’S WIFE.
Up in the early morning light,
Sweeping, misting, “setting right;*’
Oiling all the household springs
Sewing buttons, tying strings,
Telling Bridget what to do,
Mending rips on Johnny’s shoe ;
Running up and down the stair,
Tying baby in a chair ;
Cutting meat, spreading bread,
Dishing out so much per head ;
Eating as she can by chance
Giving husband kindly glance;
Tolling, working, busy life,
Smart woman,
Dan's wile.
Dan comes home at fall of night—
Dome so cbeeriul, neat and bright,
Children meet him at the door,
Pull him lu and look him o’er.
Wife asks, “H >w the work has gone?
Busy times with us at home!’’
Supper done, Dan reads with ease,
Happy Dan, but one to please,
Children must be put to bed—
All the little prayers are said,
Little shoes placed all In rows,
Bedolothes tucked o’er little toes ;
Busy, noisy, weary life,
Tired woman,
Dan’s wife.
The So-called False Prophet.
An Afrioan Who Has Done Much to Trouble
the Government of Egypt.
Mohammed Aehmet, the false
prophet of the Soudan, is the product
at ouce of an intense religious
fanaticism and an oppressive system of
government. Circumstances have fa
vored him in the Soudan much as they
have favored Arabi Pacha in Egypt.
He is now at the head of a revolution
which for the Egyptian Soudan is as
great, if not greater, than that which
is ruining Egypt. After again and
again defeating the troops sent against
him, he is at last complete master of
the situation. E^ypt has for the pres
ent, at least, lost her hardly won
possessions in the Soudan, which if
they ever belong to her again, or if
they are ever again opened to com
merce, or to any civilizing and relig
ious influence, must be reconquered
with a large army and much expendi
ture of life and money.
This man was born in. the region ot
Dongola, on the western b ink of the
Nile, where it makes its great bend.
He was a poor man, a carpenter and
boat-builder by trade. He first came
into notoriety on the large island of
Abbas, situated about 200 miles south
of Khartoum. Here after the fashion
of the fakirs and holy men, he with
drew from society and devoted him
self to prayer and meditation. He
soon had a large following, and pro
claimed himself the expected prophet
and deliverer of the people. He wrote
letters all over the country announcing
himself and his mission. While many
of the more intelligent Moslems repu
diated him, others, moved both by re
ligious and political motives, and who,
above all, hoped that he would show
them some way to escape the payment
of their taxes, flocked around his stand
ard. He was secretly encouraged and
abetted by enemies of the Government
raiding at Khartoum. His presence
in so commanding a position on the
Nile soon became obnoxious to the au
thorities, and an expedition was organ
ized to dislodge him. A detach
ment of 120 men of the regular army was
sent against him on the island. These
men were badly managed, and al
though they were armed with the best
Remington rifles, while Mohammed
Aehmet and his band had only their
spears, they were killed one after the
other as fast as they landed^ till not
one of the 120 was left. Nota^hot was
fired. It was a slaughter, like the
sticking of so many pigs.
Of course, after this exploit,Moham
med Aehmet knew that it would not
do for him to remain where he was. He
therefore gathered together all his fol
lowing, men, women and children,
cattle and provisions, orossed the Nile
to the west bank, and fled to a wild
mountain called Gebel Gedir, 200 miles
southwest of the Island of Abbas, and
about ninety miles northwest of the
penal colony and military station of
Fashoda. Here, in an easily defend
ed and almost inaccessible mountain,
he took up his abode. The Baggara
Arabs bow began to flock to his stand
ard in great numbers. The Baggaras
were the former slave hunters of the
White Nile.
We saw great numbers of them,
with their spears gleaming in the sun,
crowding along the banks with horses
and their cattle to Join Mohammed
Aobmet in his mountain fastness. It
was, however, the policy of the Gov
ernment to let the lebels alone, now
•that they had left the river, thinking
that they would soon lose their zeal
and disperse for want of provisions.
But anew Governor of Fashoda had
been appointed, who considered it his
duty to signalize his loyalty by organ
izing another expedition against the
rel els. 0 mtrary to orders from Khar
toum. he gathered the military foicea
from Kaka, Fashoda and the station
at the mouth of the Sobat, in all 6 0
s ddiers of the r< gular army. With
these he joined 200 men ol the large
native tribe of the Shillooks—800 men
all told. With these he marched six
days across the desert by forced
marches. On the seventh day, when
the men were ail tired out from the
long march, and uiterly unfit for ac
tion, they met the enemy. Moham
med Aehmet was again victorious.
The fight was turned into a slaughter.
Sixty men were taken prisoner by the
rebels, only seventy escaped by run
ning for it, and all the rest were slain.
The Governor of Fashoda and 'he
King of the Shillooks were both killed
Soon after these events we traveled
through the countiy as tar as the So
bat ri/er. As we passed the Island of
Abbas we saw the Bpot where the sol
diers landed and where the/ were
slain. We saw the deserted village al
ready occupied by a colony of chatter
ing monkeys ; the hut where Aehmet
commenced his career, and a boat
which his people had left half finished.
We found Kuka in a state of siege by
the Shillooks, who had taken the kil
ling of their king iu the Egyptian ser
vice as a good pretext for throwing off
the yoke of the Government that had
never wholly subdued them. When
we landed at Fashoda we found the
town in coDbtant tear of an attack.
We saw the wounded and heard the
loud lamentations of those who
mourned their slain. At the Sooat
we found tue Shillooks hostile. T wice
on our way back we were waylaid
;,ind partially surrounded by Moham
med Acbmet’s men, and owed our
escape only to the merciful provi
dence of God and our own presence
of mind and agility. On our return
to the Kuartoum we learueJ that
Raoul Pacha had been recalled, a new
method of governing the S >udau from
Cairo was instituted, and that Gtegler
Pacha had been authorized to proceed
with more vigorous measuies against
the rebels. "While we were there an
army of some thirty-five hundred men
was gathered and sent forward undo
Yousef Pacha. We saw them drilling,
after a fashion, nearly every day. From
the first they bad but little hope of
success. About a hundred deserted
just before the departure. None of
them had the first idea of discipline,
few of them had ever fired off their
guns, and 1500 of them were raw re
cruits, who did not know which were
the dangerous ends of their rifle-t. The
Government throughout underestima
ted the earnestness and strength of the
rebels. At this time they probably
numbered near ten thousand men.
And now the news is confirmed that
the army, whose defeat was expected
by all who knew much about it, has
been totally cut to pieces, 2.00 out of
3000 slain, 3000 rifles and four cannon
captured, with nothing to prevent the
rebels from marching into Khartoum
itself Mohammed Aehmet is now
complete master of the Egyptian
Soudan.
Some Results of Muscular
Training.
In answer to several inquiries as to
the value of rowing, riding, walking
tricycling, boxing, cricket, etc., as
healthful exercises, Knowledge says:
‘Tt will probably sound paradoxical,
after the stress we have laid on the
necessity for exercise, to say that we
consider each one of these exercises,
as pursued by specialists, undeniably
bad for the development of a well pro
portioned and thoroughly healthy
frame. Take, for instance, any first-
class eleven at cricket; select, if you
please, an eleven such as the Austra
lian, in which all-round aptitude is a
characteristic feature, and you will in
variably find so large a proportion of
ill-shaped men as to show that thor
oughly well-built cricketers owe their
goodly proportlous to exercises out
side of oricket. Despite the running in
volved in the game, four cricketers
out of five have badly developed
chests. One would say a good bat
should have good shoulders, but that
batting does not tend to improve the
shoulders is shown by two, at least, of
the finest Australian bats. Take row
ing, again. Unless a rowing man
does other work especially intended
to correct the defect, he has invariably
poor arms above the elbow, a marked
inferiority in the development of the
chest as compared with the back, and
he generally has round shoulders and
a forward bang of the head and neck.
Boxing is better, but it cannot be pur
sued with advantage as the chief ex
ercise a man or boy takes, and it is
entirely unsuited to women and
girls.”
Hints to Handshakers.
I sra not unsociable, but I had
-i her not shake hands with every
body ; and \ am quite sureagood many
eople would rather not shake hands
-itbme. Then why do we do it? It
- just one of those unwritten 1 ws
a liicb might with advantage often be
uore honored in the breach than iu
oe observance ; juita matter in which
■•tople irust their instincts, and in
A'hi h th» ir instincts are really not to
e trusted. I am dead against the cur-
ent iri qmney of handshaking in so-
ucty.
Jones drops in for an af ernoon call;
ue does not really want to see me ; I
on’t really want to si e Jones; when
ie comes I shake hands wiih him,
core or less; when he leaves, in five
oinutes, he shakes hands with me,
ess or more. I hate Jones’ hand, be-
ause it is always damp ; Jones knows
hat as well as I do, and sometimes
tiers me his hand gloved—but I fle
et t a * 1 ived baud. I bad rather not
hake hands at all. If I must do so,
i will do it once, and no more; no one
-ut a lover wants to skake hands more
;han once in five minutes.
But Jones has a detestable habit of
•ngering on his way out. He gets up
0 go. I give him my hand. It’s over.
.'Jo, it’s not. A picture catches his
Aye. He turns and saj s with a sim-
uer: ‘ ‘Capital portrait, ’pon my word ”
‘Ye—as,” I say, half accompanying
Him to the door. ‘‘Who’s it by ?” “Oh
—by—Smearem, R. A.” “Dear me!
He painted—a—who did he paint?”
Don’t know; paints everybody—
paints himself.” “Really—a—good
by !” Shakes Hands again ; but before
ne has got through the door he remem-
oers a message from his wife. I’ll see
oim out; he shan’t get into the room
again. I go into the passage with him.
f accompany him to the door. He
shakes hands again at the door.
There ought to be some rule about
his. It should be understood that
once is enough in one visit. Ot course
1 know we often shake hands with a
man to finish an interview aLd bow
him out, Well, that is for our own
conveniehce, although it does not al
ways act—just as a man’s after-dinner
speech is sometimes applauded rap
turously in the middle to make him
sit down. These people who shake
bands should consider their ways.
I hate a man, for instance, whocan’t
leave iff shaking hands. He begins
so htartily you think he will soon be
done. He relaxes his grip ; you at
tempt to withdraw ; but he tightens ii
again ; he holds you in a vise. You
begin to shake him up and down,when
you suddenly find he has dropped your
hand like a hot potato, and you are
leit shaking the air. Ihh is bad
enough, but the wooden shake is al
most worse. A hand is stretched out,
and you get nothing butthesensation of
bone—angular bone; there is no flesh
and blood,no grip—the hand might be
long to a lay figure. I don’t want to
shake hands with a lay figure.
Then I object to the crusher. Ladies
suffer more than gentlemen from this
festive “bore” because they wear more
rings. He seizes you impulsively and
manages to crunch your fingers verti
cally one on top of the otner. You
do^’t like to scream if you are a girl,
or to show your displeasure if you are
a man, but you are dreadfully hurt,
and you suffer what Mrs. Gamp called
“all the tortures of the imposition”
from the oppressor’s effusive but iron
grip. Then there is the flabby, pulse
less shake which means nothing, or
means “you are less than nothing to
me and I hope I am the same to you.”
I am not so absurd as to suppose that
we can always regulate our handshak
ing by rule, or that our acts will al
ways be indicative of our moods ; but
1 notice in good society a growing ten
dency to reduce handhaking to a
minimum, and then make it genuine
so far as it goes, but as formal as possi
ble, aud I think this is a step in the
right direction and worthy of imita
tion. Deep feeling will never fail to
flud fitting occasions, but the less im
portation tht re is of spurious feeling or
offensive familiarity the better. The
damp-handed man should remember
that his hand Is damp ; the flabby, ir
resolute creature should try and im
prove his style of grip ; the impulsive
and museular Christian should
recollect the ag >ny of scrunched rings;
and most people might be less fre
quent and more brief with advantage.
In England we shake hands oftener
than we bow; in France they bow
oftener than they shake hands. I be
lieve the two methods might be more
judiciously worked. 1 think I should
like a little more heartiness and a lit
tle less politeness abroad, and perhaps
a little more politeness with a little
less anxiety to appear hearty at home.
Our Young Folks.
Said a little girl whose mother had
reproved her for misconduct, “Ishould
fink, mamma, from the way you treat
me, you was my step-mower.”
Spoke Too Soon.—It is never safe
to trust the discretion of the average
small boy. A London tradesman found
i his out the other day when it was too
late. He tells the story himself: “I
keep a shop,” says he, “and sell fancy
goods. A gentleman came in to buy
something. It was early, and my little
boy and I were alone in the house at
the time. The gentleman gave me a
sovereign, and I had to go up stairs to
my cash box. Before doing so I went
into the little room next to the shop,
and said to the boy, ‘watch the gentle
man, that he don’t steal anything,’
and I put him on the counter. As
soon as I returned, he sang out, at the
top of his voico, ‘Pa, he didn’t Bteal
anything ; I watched him !’ You may
imagine what a position I was in.”
Sammy’s Day of Woes.—Sammy
sat on the doorsteps with his hands
full of bread and butter: his eyes full
of tears, ana his voice full of sobs.
What for? Why, because he could
not have cake, instead ! Would you
believe it?
“You can eat that, or nothing,” his
mother had said ; and it looked a good
deal as if he was going to eat the noth
ing part and omit the bread-and-butter
part.
The rich, spicy smell of freshly-
baked cook ies floated out to him from
the open window ; and the more he
smelled it the more he became con
vinced I hat his mother was not the
one to cater to small boys who staid
home trom school because they were
sick—or thought they were—or tried
10 make out they were, as the case
might be.
“ Why can’t I have a coo—key?”
be whined again, in a dreadful doleful
key.
“Because,” said his mother, “you
say you are sick ; and hot cookies are
bad for sick boys. Now if you don’t
run away and stop troubling me, 1
shall have to send you to bed.
Perhaps Sammy was a little sick;
for he did not often grumble, as he
was doing that pleasant morning.
“I’m going!” said Sammy, slowly
getting upon his feet, and strolling off
toward the barn.
Just as he reached it he saw Bingo,
the dog, darting full chase after a rat.
It ran into a hole; and Bingo, with
much winning mingled wioh many
repeated aud sharp yelps, proceeded
to make shovels of his paws, and to
dig Mr. Rat out.
“I’ll help you, Bing,” said Sammy,
with alacrity,forgetting his bread-and-
butter woe, and his recent illness, and
the cookey troubles, also, as he brought
a spade twice as large as himself, and
proceeded to chop Bingo’s toes and his
own almost off, in the excitement of
the next few moments.
At last, tired and hungry, he turned
to where Bingo had retired to nurse
his injured feet behind a rock, and
said comfortingly, “Never mind Bing
—you shall part of my bread and but
ter !” This would have been very con
soling if Sammy could have found it—
which he couldn’t.
“I am sure I put it here,” he said,
confidentially to the dog, who closely
attended his movements, expecting
every instant the promised bite.
“Why, where is it?”
“Oh, there it is! That hen has got
it! She is giving it to her chickens!
Take her, Bing ! Take her !
But Bing selected the bread, in
stead’of the hen, for the object of his
attack, and, having rescued the slice,
swallowed the whole at a gulp ! And
then stood wagging his tail and look
ing at Sammy for more; as if be
thought bread and butter could pour
out of his wonderful little master’s
hands, if he only willed so, as we have
seen pictures of flowers pouring out of
horns of plenty.
But Simmy didn’t care for the dog’s
opinion of him. His opinion of the
dog was that he was a greedy fellow,
and he told him so.
“I wanted part of that slice, myself!
Boo, hoo, hoo.”
And this was woe number two.
“I do believe that child is sick!”
declared bis mother, as Sammy oame
sobbing back to the house. “I’m just
going to put him to bed, anyway, and
give him a dose ot rhubarb.”
And she did, and that was woe num
ber three, for Sammy hated rhubarb
But the last trial and the worst of
all was when his U ncle Henry came
fur Sammy tc go with his cousins to
the show that afternoon.
”1 don’t know whether he is slok or
not,” said his mother, decisively,
“but this I do know; he has just
taken a dose of rhubarb, and that set
tles it. He can’t go, anyhow !”
Perhaps Simmy had been playing
sick that day. At any rate, he got
well very fast, indeed, after that, and
announced to his uncle, nextmcrnlng,
that “he was all right, now! Could he
go?”
“You are too late.” said his uncle.
Bingo!” said Sammy, solemnly,
just around the corner to a very atten
tive dog, who evidently expeefed that
it would soon rain bread and butter,or
something equally as good, if he paid
strict attention. “Bingo! It is all
very well for dogs to stay at home,—
all day,—and never go to school,—nor
learn any lessons,-nor do anything
but just what you please,-if you like,
—but it’s poor business for bogs! After
this I am going to school every day,
—except I’m reaVy sick l”
“I thought so,” nodded his mother
to Uncle Henry, for she overheard
him. But Bingo went and lay down
with a sigh, for he got nothing. Not
even a new idea.
Fashions.
Embroidery—Lao i and other Fane-
Boating Drones.
APPI.IQUE WORK.
One of the prettiest varieties of this
style of embroidery, consists of pat
terns of real blond worked in applique
over a veiling in cream, white, or sil
ver gray; another is composed of
flower patterns of stamped velvet or
fine silk plush, applied on over some
very light tissue, which is itself lined
with colored silk or satin. That most
generally worn, because less expensive
than the former, is the machine made
embroidery in white, cream or buff
over cambric, net, crape or any other
light fabric, or else in silk over wool
len or silk fabrics. The former are
most effective over a colored silk .ma
terial ; the latter is a most elegant
trimming to a dress. Japanese em
broidery is much employed for bodices;
it consists of small squares, each bear
ing n Japanese figure in embroidery.
LACE AND OTHER FANS.
Much of the old point lace shaped
for fans is now being remounted, and
tven among those handed down as old
the sticks and the lace are of very dif
ferent periods. The sticks of Louis
XIV. period are the most valuable.
No one can do wrong in wearing an
antique fan of almost any period,
whether it be of ancient silver filigree
or Oriental, or what not. There is a
constant demand for these, especially
for a very rare Venetian dagger fan,
which is only portable as a fan, for it
is a veritable stiletto encased in ivory,
after the fashion of a fan, and doubt
less of Oriental origin, for the Chinese
have a dangerous dagger-fan, so dis
guised that no one would guess its use.
This nation has one also like a blud
geon—of solid steel, handsomely orna
mented ; the blade resembles a Malay
kris. With the Chinese a fan would
seem to be a necessary part of dress,
therefore in Chinese fans there is a
great choice. Tney haye different
ones in summer and winter ; the com
monest coolie carries one, and the
passing news of the day is depicted on
them.
A BOATING DRESS.
A nice costume for boatii g and sail
ing may be of the striped flannel,
made expressly for boating and ten
nis, light and thin, yet tolerably
warm. The underskirt is plaited, and
over it is arranged dark flannel, with
square let in in front, cuff's and sailor
collar of the stripe. If the stripes are
dark blue and white, the upper partot
the dress should be of dark blue; if
ot brown, then a brown polonaise.
The upper part is made a tunic, short
in front, well drawn back and long at
the back, or else with looped back
paniers. Some ladies have the bodice
and tunic In one, others separate,
with a waistband. In both oases the
bodices are full and rather loose. The
tunic can be arranged at the back in
two long, wide ends, which tie to
gether in one large bow and look
smart. New hats of striped flannel
are sold, and are soft and light and
not all unbecoming.
A mammoth tree, felled od a farm
at Mexico, Mo., measured nine feet
through near the ground, was 110 feet
high, the first limb growing at a
height of thirty feet from the base.
The tree was out up into 800 rails, 800
fence posts, and 10 cords of firewood.
The Board of Trade of Portland,
Oregon, is making efforts to compel
the salmon canners to respect the fish
ing laws of the State. The season
has been very poor and they are fishing
after the qjpee of the season. The oan-
cers say that the law is not valid, hay
ing been held so in a recent suit.