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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.