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■ ARCH. Marcia! Maruh! March I They arc oaui| *a troops to the tuo* of the tnd— i.-vi-breded woodpeckers, dramming; (jold-crat> and thxushor behind ; H(rroirt 1b b:on Jacket* hipping Paat rriry gateetr ml door; liorhet with erlmaon cape, (topping Jaat where they etorped yean bJwc Marcel Match I March I 'they are (lipping li t their place* at laet — Little white lllr-buda. dripping I Oder the ehowera that tall bet; But** cape; violet*; rose*; 'Bowdrop and hleehril and pink; Thro ,g npon throng it ewtet roeie*. Beading tbe devdrope to drink. Marchi March! March 1 They will hairy Fjrth at the wild bogle->and— Llrsons and birds In a flurry, II uttering all over tha ground. Sang oat your fltge, birch and willowi Cheka out rear re-1 teeeele, larch! fhase-biedn I op from yoar earth-pillow I Hear who la calling you— Ma-eh ! TWELVE DAYS IN LOVE- I; wa* a cold night in January. Poo* pie were hurrying along through the blinding snow-storm, battling with the wind that howled and moaned out by turns its story of woe. Hugh Remington and his friend Wil liams, glad to be out of tbe storm, bad settled themselves in gown and slippers for a quiet evening at home. The shut ters were closed and the curtains drawn, and on either side of tbe hearth was placed the favorite chair of each. These friends had lived together in their bach elor quarters for more than two yeare. Everything in tbe apartment showed re fined tsste and wealth. Some said that it all belonged to Hugh, and that he made it a home for bis friend. No one, however, knew this to be true. Hugh was quiet and reserved, seldom spoke of his affairs to any one, never laid any special claim to anything, but allowed it to appear that all things were equally shared. Alter the evening papers had been read and discussed, the two sat talking of days gone by, ol little episodes in their lives. Hugh was in a talking mood, and had told several good stories of his past life ; stopping suddenly he exclaimed: “ Did I ever tell you of my love for the widow ? ” “No,” replied Williams, “let’s have It.” “ Well,” said Hugh, taking another cigar, and looking very serious as h leaned back in his great easy chair, “ met her in Paris.” “ Met who?” " Oh, never mind who. Be conten that I am telling you the story, and don’t ask for names. I thought of her as the‘widow.’ It is a sufficient title.” “ Well, I won’t interrupt. Go on.’’ 8o Hugh continued; “ I was calling upon my old friend, Mr. Lee, and while waiting for the ser vant to take her my card, an odd piece of bric-a-brac standing in the corner o the room attracted my attention. I got up and went over to examine it. While thus engaged, the door opened. I turned, thinking it was Mrs. Lee, when oh! what a beauty met my sight!—so small that she looked like a child, large deep blue eyes that came out from under a mass of light golden curls, a small nose, and a rosebud of a mouth. She was dressed in deep mourning, and I thought, as I looked at her, that I had never seen a more beautiful picture. She didn’t see me until I made 8 slight movement, which startled her. Coming forward, I said : “ ‘I frightened you, did I not?’ “ ‘ Yes; I was not aware that there was any one in the room You are waiting for M rs. Lee ? ’ And she gave me the sweetest smile, showing a most perfect row of teeth. “ Before I coaid answer, Mia Lee ap peared and introduced ua. Mra. was making Mra. Lee a short visit prior to her departure to America. I waa glad of that, as I should then have the pleasure of seeing her again. “ The evening passed only too quickly, and I arose with an apology for staying so late. Mrs. Lee invited me to dine with them informally the next day. She said her friend pre'erred being quiet, so they should be quite alone You may be sure that I accepted the invitation, and was there promptly at the hour. The widow was more charming than on the previous evening. 1 longed to stop the hours from rolling on. Having been in the habit of dropping in at Mrs. Lee’s at all hours, my frequent a’ciost daily —visits were not noticed as anything strange or unusual. Mrs. Loe thanked me for coming to them in their loneli ness, and the widow would give me one of her sweet smiles, and I was thankful ir my inmost heart that they were lonely, and that it fell to my lot to cheer them. 80 the weeks passed, until the time came for tl# departure of Mrs. Lee’s friend. “ Now, I had intended passing a month or two in England before coming home, but when I found that the widow was to return in ten days, I began to think that my duty called me back to my business The more I thought of it, the more im- I or tan t it seemed to me that I should go. u * Do you know of any one going on the 15ih?’ the widow asked me, one evening, in her ddke-like way. “‘No one bat myself,’ I answered. ‘ Business has called me sooner than I expected.’ u 1 How delightful 1 ’ from the widow ; while Mrs, Lee exclaimed, ‘ Oh, Mr. Remington, I am so glad! I couldn’t bear the idea of my friend going entirely alone, and you, of all others will kno - best how to take care ©f her.’ “ W- then began to make our plans. Mrs. intended making a visit of a few days to some friends in London. 1 was going direct to Liverpool. Mrs. Lee and I drove down to see our friend off, end I looked forward to the pleasure of meeting her on board the steamer. My last days in Paris were spent in saying ‘good-by’ to old friends, and buying presents for sister Nell and the children. I got every nouvtavte that I could find, and felt well pleased with my selection. At last I was on the steamer, and stood looking at the ship moving away. By my side war the widow, and I thought that I bad never seen her look so lovely. I exulted in the knowledge that she knew no one on board. I was her only friend, consequently I should have her all to myself; this was (so I said to my self) what I had for weeks been longing for. Was lin love? That question had not occurred to me. I felt supremely happy, and thought the situation delight, ful. I was ready to do anything for this lair creature. She had only to com mand ; I was all eagerness to obey. I soon had ©pportunities of showing my devotion “ The following morning came out on deck very early, and was surprised to find my little lady already there. She looked very miserable and very The morning salutations over, J asked her how she had slept, VOL. XX. NO. 8. “ ‘ I haven’t aPpt at all,’ she said, a fretful, childish way, which I thought cbarmiDg. 1 Buch a noise all night,’ she continued, ‘ I could not get to sleep ; and the smells are simply dread f ul. I must have another room. Id rather ait up here all night than sleep in that hor* rid place again. Don’t you think, Mr. Remington, it you Hiked the captain or somebody, he would give me another stateroom ?’ and her big eyes loosed in quiringly into mine. “ ‘ Certainly,’ I said. ‘ I will go at once and see about it, and if there is no other, you shall change with me. Take my room, which is a good one, and as I don’t mind either noise or smells, your room will suit me well enough.’ ” Here Hugh leaned over his chair to knock the ashes off Lis cigar, and said to his friend : “ I must have bad it pretty bad—eh, Williams ?—to have said that, for you kDOW that I can’t endure either a bad odor or a loud noiee. But I forgot everything when under the influence of those eyes, and when she exclaimed, ‘Oh no; I couldn’t let you do that,’ I felt that my fate was sealed, and that I should take the noise and the smells. “ The next thiog that I discovered was that my lady had no sea chair. There was only one left, and that had been spoken for; but I paid double the amount, and the chair was mi “ * You are so kina, Air. Kerning on,’ she said. ‘ I don’t know what I should have done without you. lam not fit to travel alone,’ she added in a childish voice. “ I longed to press her to my heart and tell of my love; and if she would but let me, it would be the joy of my life to care for her. I looked all this ; I am sure I did. But there were too many people around me to speak. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, and looked divinely unconscious. “ The third day out the weather be came bitterly cold. “ ‘I am almost frozen,’ said Mrs. . * What shall I do ? I have nothing to wrap around me, and shall have to stay below, and, oh dear! it is so uncomfort able there!’ The face turned up to mine was that of a spoiled child. “ Now I hal a fine English rug, which I had used at night, for you know every thing at sea is so horribly damp. It had been a great comfort to me, and 1 knew I should miss it. But what of that ? I couldn’t see the woman I loved suffer. So I got it, and tucked her all up in it. Her delicious smile repaid me lot the sacrifice. “ ‘Oh, how nice 1’ she said, as she put her hands under the warm rug. ‘lt seems to me, Mr. Remington, that you have everything to make cne coralorta* ble. I never heard of such a man. lam so glad that I came under your care !’ “ I was so love-Stricken that I did not reflect upou her apparent unconscious ness of the fact that I had deprived my self of these comforts in order that she should be made comfortable. She seemed to take it ,or granted that I was a sort of traveling missionary, with extra wraps, state-rooms, chairs, and anything else that one might need; and 1 was such a slave to her fascination that, had she asked me to do the impossible, I should have attempted it. “ Every day I had it upon my lips to tell her of my love. Etch day courage forsook me. We walked the deck day after day. She would put her little soft hand on my arm in the most codS ling way, look up from under her curls, laugh her sweet low laugh, and ask the most childish, innocent questions. “ We were wa'king this way on the sixth day out. I had carefully rehearsed my part, and was about to tell my story. Her conversation seemed vo lead to it, for she said: “ ‘ You will come to see me when you are in New York, won’t you, Mr. Rem, ington ? ’ “ ‘ Nothing,’ sail I, ‘would give me greater pleasure.’ “ * You will come often ? Promise to dine at our house once a week. You won’t forget me ? ’ and the blue eyes sought mine. “ I looked into them, and my look told what my tongue bad refused to say. I pressed the little hand close to my heart, and after a pause said, below my breath, * Forget you!' and I was about to pour fotrh my love when she gave a little scream, and cried, “ Oh, my veil!’ There, sure enough, was the confounded blue thing sailing before the wind, and all the passengers it seemed to me, after it. Of course I had to go tor, and make believe try to capture it. I never hated any* thing so much as I did that yard of blue gauze. I couldn’t go back and continue my story from where it was so suddenly broken off, and indeed the widow seemed quite shy of me. “ The incident bad given the passen gers an opportunity to speak to her, and when I joiued her (without the veil, for it had, I hoped, struck bottom) she was surrounded by a group of people. I bad no chance that day, nor the next, to get her to myselt. I tried to think of some* thing that I could do or show her that would amuse and detain her It seemed as though I had exhausted all my re sources, when at last a brilliant idea oc curred to me; I would show her the presents I had brought for sister Nell. They were all in my little sea trunk, and I knew that she couldn’t resist their attractions. She came on deck bright and beautitul as ever. “ ‘ Isn’t it delightful,’ she said, *to think that to-morrow we shall be at home ? I can hardly wait lor the time to come; and yet ’ —and her voice dropped into the dearly loved soft tone —‘ the voyage has been a most charming one, owing to your kindness,’ she added, brightly. “ I longed to launch forth my tale of love, but thinking it more prudent to wait until I had secured her wholly to myself, I asked her in the most ordinary manner if she wouldn’t enjoy looking at some little trinkets that I had picked up in Paris. Her eyes sparkled. “ ‘ Yea, indeed,’ she said. * Nothing could be more delightful than to get a glimpse of Paris while at sea.’ “ I went below and got all my pretty nouveavt**, aDd brought them up to her Placing a chair in a quiet corner, and well bid from the other people, then drawing mine up beside her, I began showing one by one my collection of odd things. “ ‘ Where did you get them, Mr. Rem ington? I hunted all over Paris and found nothing half so pretty. What exquisite porie bonheuul’ and she slipped one after another of my carefully chosen bracelets on her little plump wrists, and turned them first on one side end then on the other. “ I knew Neli’s taste, and had searched for something uncommon, and was well plenaed with what I had bought. But Nell and everything were forgotten with this bewitching creature by my side, and when she made a move to take them off, I said, laughingly, of course, ‘ Ob, don’t disturb them; they look so well where they are, and it is pleasant, you know, to get a glimpse of Paris while at sea.’ “ Bhe kept them on, and I opened the other boxes. There were rings, crosses, medallions, chatelaines, and many other ornaments of curious designs. The widow decked herself, and was in high glee. A child could not have enjoyed it more. I watched her with loving eyes, told her where each one came from, and helped fasten them on. “ ‘ I feel like an Indian princess,’ she said, ‘ and ought to have a throne aria crowd of kneeling courtiers, and the pic ture would be complete.’ “‘Can’t you imagine a throne?’ I said, ‘ and take me for kneeling courtiers. Wouldn’t my love compensate for the admiring crowd ?’ “She looked up quickly, and was about to answer, when one of these eter nal old bores that, no matter when you cross, are always to be found on ship board, came up, and began te ling of his early reminiscence, what the sea was twenty years ago, as though the sea had ever changed, and how, when he had first crossed, his friends never expected to see him again. He had made his will, and they parted as though he were to be forever lost to them. I assure you that I silently wished in my heart that be had never turned up again. Without saying a word I got up, took my boxes, and left my Indian princess. I was thor oughly angry with the old fellow for in terrupting our tefe-a-tete, and seriously annoyed with Mrs. for listening to and answering him. I made up my mind that that game had been played long enough. I would ask her the simple question the first chance I got, and know my ate at once. But the chance did not corns as soon as I expected it woukl. “ She went to her room with a sick headache, so she said, and I paced the deck alone. We were a long way up the harbor when she made her appearance the following morning. Sh 6 said that she had hurried with her packing, think ing that we were nearer than we really were to the city. ‘“Oh, Mr. Remington, I had no op portunity of returning your jewelry, and so I packed them with my things. But you are coming, you know, to dice with me on Saturday, and I will then give them to you.’ “ ‘Certainly,’ I said. ‘ There is no tir.3 for us to change them now. Wear them until I see you again.’ “ I bad fully made up my mind that as I had been baffled so often, I wou and now wait until I had seen her in her own home before I (pened my heart to her, or rather before I asked her my fate. She already knew my heart. There was no time to talk ; all was excitement; we were rapidly approaching; handkerchiefs were waving from the docks. Ihe widow was straining her eyes, and suddenly leaving me and going farther forward, I saw her throw a kiss. How I longed to catch it! I looked with jealous eyes to see who would take it up and answer it. Fore most among the crowd was a great big man, six feet, and broad in proportion. It was he who was returning her kisses. Could it be her brother, or was it a friend, and this merely a pleasant greet ing from a distance ? “ I watched him come on board, and what did the big idiot do but to catch her up in his arms—my sweet one, whom, though loving, I had never dared to touch —and kiss her over and over again. 1 could have knocked him down. “ On drawing nearer to them, I saw that neither of them noticed me. She had forgotten my existence. With a heart-sick feeling 1 turned away. Was this to be the end ? Why had I come home? I could hear them talking, though too miserable to listen. They came nearer, and the same soft voice that I loved so dearly said, “ Mr. Rem ington, I have been talking about you, telling how good and kind you have been, and how utterly forlorn I should have been had you not always looked out for my comfort. I have come to thank you, and my husband wants to thank you too.” “ Her busland ! Great heavens ! And I thought she was a widow, and had made love to her! I listened as thdhgh in a dream, and a deuced unpleasant one it was too. I believe he thanked me, and she praised, and he thanked again, and then they urged me to come to see them, and she said, ‘ Don’t forget Satur day.’ “ Whether I said anything, or whether I remained mute, is more than I can tell. I was like a man asleep, and had to give myself a good shake to come out of the nightmare I was in. When I looked around she—they—were gone.” Here Hugh stopped as though he had finished ; but his friend Williams, whose curiosity was aroused, asked : “Did you dree with her on Satur day ?” “ No; I sent a regret.” “ Have you ever seen her since ?” “ No, never.” “ What became of your nouveauta de Paris V ’ “ Nell went without them, and I went without my English robe.” “ You don’t mean that she never sent them to you ?” “I never gave her my address, and she was not supposed to know where I was.” Williams didn’t like to ask any more questions, and Hugh remained quiet for a time. Then rousing himself and get ting out of his chair, he said: “ I have never made love since, and” —with a bitter laugh—“ I always avoid women in deep mourning. And now as the fire has gone out with my story, I think we hadlbetter go to bed.” CARTERSVILLE, GA., FRIDAY, MARCH 21. 1879. FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE. AdfUld Eemblf) Suriorti and the Great ftiddau Rarely gifted was the family of the Kembles. The “ great ” Mrs. Siddons, an actress who well deserved that the word “ great ” should be applied to her delineation of dramatic roles, was the first to evince histrionic talent. She it was who, when she studied “ Ladv Mac beth,” heard the wind sighing in her dreams around those battlements under which good “ Duncan ’’ met his doom. She it wa3 who, when studying a char acter, secluded herself for weeks, at times even for months, until, her beauti ful and noble or somber and majestical ideal being evolved from her inner con sciousness, she then thought herself worthy to give it to the public. Such is the consciousness of the riue aatist. It is related of this great actress and superbly graceful and noble looking woman, that, under the stress of her mental preparation for the sleep-walking scene, she became somnambulistic, and was met by her female attendant walking with a Iz.mp in her hand, and wearing a countenance so expressive of horror and remorse that the worthy maiden almost swooned at sight of the actress. This effect, it appears, was afterward equaled by that of her performance—at least as regarded a portion of the public—for a lady fainted at sight of the tragedienne’s anguish-stricken face, and had to be carried cut of the theatre. The story of the consternation which filled tie manly breast of a dry goods merchant of whom, when purchasing of him a calico print, Mrs. Siddons de manded, in tones suited to the blackest of tragedies, “ Will it wash ? ” is not unknown ; but that of the effect of her “ Queen Katharine ” apon the minds of some prominent personages of her time is comparatively new and very interest ing. One lady who was studying for the stage—and with great encouragement to appear- renounced forever her intention on seeing the queen of the Eighth Henry as played by this queen of tragediennes, saying: “ I can never equal this acting, and it would kili me to do less before a public that has seen this representation.” A real actor, who had traveled far to see the jierformance, remarked that “up to that time it had never been dreamt of.” Poets, public and actors were alike exceptionally impressed by her novel and astounding conception ot the part. Charles Kemble, like Mrs. Siddons, was fitted by nature to depict tragedy In Mrs. Siddons all the features were sepecially suited to tragic expression. The nose, though bold, was delicately cut; the lips somewhat thin, though not deficient in fullness; the eyes, superb in the character of their regard, it not very large ; aad the figure of rare and noble symmetry. Mrs. Siddons was, however, a little less tall than she liked to be — though of medium height—for tragedy, and wore high but flat heels to her shoes. In Charles Kemble nature had given large ej es, a high, broad brow, a fine figure, a classically curling head of hair, and a singularly expressive mouth. The chin, too, was noble as that of a Greek statue. All the features were grave in character and expression. Someone who wielded the pen of the critic in those days said of Charles Kem ble’s “ Hamlet• “ He did not play Hamlet,” he was ‘ Hamlet.’ ” talented gentleman and fineartist was father of the famous Frances Anne Kemble, who has so singular a career and bistory. But before relating that history, let us speak of Adelaide Kemble—Mrg. Sarto ris—the mother of the husband of Nellie Grant. Mrs. Kemble Sartoris was probably as fine a “ Norma” as ever graced the ope ratic stsge. Her majestic profile, fine arms, splendid carriage and her voice were all in her favor. It was certainly not any waut of success that caused her to retiro intc private life. Mrs. Sartoris is the a ret of Fanny Kemble. Fanny Kemble, who retired from the dramatic stage at the time of her mar* riage with Mr. Pierce Butler, of Phila delphia, was at one time one of tbe most remarkable of actresses and of women. It is probable that she prided herself upon a certain reckless eccentricity which she considered excused by her exceptional talent. She was great in every tole that she attempted—great a9 ‘Juliet” great as “Juiia,” in “The Hunchback,” and, in a word, failed in nothing that she attempted. A lady who had called upon Fanny Kemble when she—the lady—was a little girl was shocked to find the actress drinking beer; but this she did merely to sustain her strength while acting, not being in any way addicted to the free use of stimulants. Asa horsewoman she was perfectly fearless, and would ride many miles on horseback when living on her husband’s plantation in the south. That she could have adopted a blouse and the aether garments of the opposite sex to do this was merely in imitation of George Band—Fanny Kemble’s superior in genius, for Madame Sand’s was the creative, not the imitative power. After her marriage with Mr. Butler, Fanny Kemble had much unhappiness in private life. She did not agree with her husband; went abroad, and wrote a book called “ A Year of Consolation,” a very clever work. The final result of the marriage was a separation after the birth of two children, daughters, both now well mar ried—one to a Dr. and the other to an Englishman of family. Neither inherited the mother’s beauty, for Miss Kemble was at oue time a woman ef superior personal attractions, though loth daughters have more than the average share of intellect. As lata as the date of the reparation, Mrs. Bugler retained a striking degree of beauty, und that of a kind which did not depend upon regularity of feature. Her eyes were dark and magnificent, her form tall, elendei as to girth, but full as to the bust, while dark, wavy hair and marked e yebrows and lashes added to the charm of her face Her expression was earnest, intense rather than poetical or dreamy, and her smile full of fascina tion. What Mrs. Butler’s powers were as a reader every body knows. Her popular ity was great. She did with “ readings’’ what no one has done since, unless, in deed, it may be said that Charlotte Cushman followed successfully in her footsteps. But the popularity of Miss Cushman was never so great as a reader as it was as an actress, while that of Fan ny was equal in both capac ties. THE MONKEY OF SIAM. Hl* Skill In Bad CalniTand IIU Pnulcn !r Ribbing Orehm dj. “ Monkeys,” says an Arabic proverb can talk perfectly well if they choose so tw do; but they are far too clever to Jet us into their Becret. Well they know that were they to speak, they would be made to work; so they wisely hold their tongues.” If certain straDge stories that have recently reached our hemisphere from the distant realm of Siam be founded on fact, the “ incomplete man,” as some German physiologists describe our res pected ancestor, whose fondness forapples is considered to have consider able influence upon thi destiny of hu manity, is made to *ork in many several ways, despite his af ected ignorance o articulate language. His prudent silence avails him naught in the domain of the White Elephant; and there are—at least we are assured so by an old Austrian resident at the Siamese court—few pro fessions which he m iy not he taught to practice with amazing skill and accurate precision. He is trained to fish for crabs with his tail, as comical a pursuit as can be imagined, except, perhaps, for the wor thy and intelligent ape engaged in it, who sometimes gets a “ bite ” from a monster crab that he is totally uuable to land, and fairs a victim to the superior weight of his Cancer Ferox, who drags him into the water, drowns and finally devours him. The Siamese ape is also stated to be in request among native merchants as a cashier in their counting houses. Vast quantities of base coin ob tain circulation in Siam, and the faculty of discrimination between good money and bad would appear to be possessed by these gifted monkeys in such an extraor dinary degree of development that no mere human being, however carefully trained, can compete with them. The cashier ape meditatively puts into his mouth each coin presented to him in business payments, and tests it with grave deliberation. If it be genuine, h e hands it over to his master. If it be counterfeit, he sets it down on the coun ter before him with a solemn grimace of displeasure. His method of testing is regarded in commercial circles as infal lible ; and, as a matter of fact, his decision is uniformly accepted by all parties in terested in the transaction. But, though a true and valuable servant to his own particular master, it seems that his moral character is not altogf’heriireproachable. His deplorable passion li r fruit makes him the terror of Siamese market gardeners, who find brute force inadequate to res train him from visiting their orchards, and therefore have recourse to divers and sundry stratagems, one of which is reported to be as success 1 ul as it is cer tainly ingenious. A specially active and enterprising ape is captured and care fully sewed up in the skin of a tiger cat. He is then turned loose in the orchard k of his predilection, and straightway clam bers, as well as he may, incumbered by an unfamiliar garment, into the branch es of a fruit tree among his unclothed fellows. Scarcely do these latter set eyes upon him, with all his feline ter rors thick upon him, when a dreadful panic strikes them, and they scramble away with piercing screeches and agon izing chatterirgs. Never more do they return to an orchard which they believe to be infested by the deadliest enemy of their race. The startling intelligence is rapidly throughout the monkey society of the neighborhood, and the wily gardener eDjoys an absolute im munity irom depredation forever after ward, for the very thought of a tiger-cat appals the simian soul, and doubtless the tale of “ the awful apparition in Ting tse’s orchard” is handed down in quad rumanous families,, from generation to generation. Feeding; a Pytlion. The following details of a recent at tempt to feed a python now at the Raffles Museum at Singapore, may be ol interest’.as upsetting previous ideas of the certainty ol that reptile’s attack The python in question is a fine speci men, caught on tbe island for the sake of the reward given by the police in such ci res, and measures about twenty-two feet in length. It has been in my charge about two and a half months, during which time it has not been fed. About ten days since it commenced casting its skin, and, as is usual after that proceed ing, was unusually lively, snapping at a stick put into the cage, and, in one or two instances, narrowly missing the at tendant’s band. The reptile, I should mention, escaped from its cage just be fore casting, but having taken refuge beneath some odds and ends of timber near the museum, was captured without difficulty, and was in a cage about five feet 8 quare every way. A pariah dog having been obtained it was introduced, muzzled into tbe cage, the muzzle being then slipped. While entering the snake struck twice at the dog’s hind-quarters, but without seizing is. The dog crept into the corner and sat down. Two or three more blows were then made by the snake, but, as beiore without gripping, and the dog was then seen to have been struck by the teeth on the fore-quarters, the punctures slightly bleeding. For nine successive times tbe snake struck at the dog with the same ill-success, and as it was then growing dark, the shutter ol the cage as closed. Early next morn ing the snake was found coiled round the dog, which it had killed and commenced to swallow; but a Malay attendant hav ing touched the python with a rod, it untwined itself and retreated to a cor ner of the cage, refusing again to touch ts prey. .. A pair of dra werg— straws in lemon ade.—[Puck. A pair of pants— two dogs after a long chare.—[Philadelphia Chronicle. A pair of slippers—two eels. —f Albany Argus. A pair of ehoo’s—two women chasing a hen.—[Rochester Democrat. MIRROR WORSHIP. WM 'B > Xtr.r Is ao Important in J.paan. Houm, London Time*. Professor Ayrton lectured last week at the Royal institution, his subject be ing “ The Magic Mirror of Japan.” In Japan there is, he said, an absence of house walls, interior and exterior, the houses consisting of a roof supported only by a few postß, inclosing very little but empty space, and sliding screens alone divide off compartments. Why, in this comparative absence of all that we should call furniture, does one artis cle pertaining to the ladies’ toilet—the bronze mirror with its stand—hold so prominent a position? This mirror is usually circular, from three inches to twelve inches in diameter, made of bronze, and with a bronze handle covered with bamboo. The reflecting face is gen erally more or less convex, polished with a mercury amalgam, and the back is beautilu ly ornamented with agiacefully executed rained design. Some for the rustic population have also polished let ter*. The explanation of the fact that the mirror is almost par excellence the en tire furniture is found partially in the elaborate head-dre-ses of the Japanese ladies and tbe paiuting of their faces, and partly from the belief that as the rd was the “ soul of the Samouri,” eo is the mirror the “ soul of woman.” It therefore constitutes the most valua ble of all her possessions, and two mir rors form pait of the trosseau of every bride. The characteristic qualities of the mirror must, it is believed, be in accordance with the constitution of the possessor, and “ second sight ” is resorted to in the selection of a mirror. But why is the mirror so important an article in the Imperial palace, where the Court ladies, still preserving the fashion of old days, comb back their hair in the simplest style ? Why does the fortune teller, instead of 100 Hag at a girl’s palm, regard the reflection in a mirror ? Why, instead of referring to the book of the recording angel, does the Japanese Plato bring before the boatman his evil deeds reflected in a mirror? The mirror ranks far higher in Japanese history than has been supposed ; it, in fact, takes the place of the cross in Christian countries. Professor Ayrton read the myth of the origin of the worship of the magic mirror. The main points in it are that when gods alone inhabited the earth the Sun Goddess one day hurt her hand with her shuttle, having been suddenly frightened by a practical joke of her brother, the God of the Sea. She indig nantly retired to a cave. Darkness fol lowed, and the godde s had to be ap peased. The wisest of the gods sugges ted making an image of her more beauti ful than herself. The Japanese Vulcan fashioned a mirror in the shape of the sun, and all the gods laughed and shout ed, “ Here is a deity who surpasses’even your glory.” Woman’s curiosity could not stand this. The goddess peeped out, and, while admiring herself in the mir ror, was caught and dragged out by a rice rope. The national traditions have it that this Sun Goddess (Amaterasu o mi Kami), sending her adopted grand son, who was also the great-grandfather or the first Emperor of Japan, to subdue the world, made him three presents: the maga-tama(the precious stone, emblem atical of the spirit of woman), the sword (emblematical of the spirit of man), and the mirror (emblem of her own soul). “ Look,” Bhe said, “on this mirror as my spirit; keep it in the same house and on the same floor with yourself, and worship it as if you were worshiping my actual presence.” Bushmen. Bushmen are usually ranked as the lowest iornf of humanity, except, per haps, the South American Botocudo and their manners of oral communication is very litt'e like human speech, being a series of clicks, interspersed with harsh, entirely inarticulate, guttural sounds. They are strange looking creatures, di minutive in size, singular in movement, bestial in feature, and Btrongly suggest the connecting link between man and monkey. If they can get nc better food, they will eat snakes and reptiles, and they make a kind of cake out of locusts which they po**d between stones and knead into shape. They are cun ning, and not without courage. They bunt wild beasts of divers sorts, even the lion, toward which they creep upon their bellies (keeping to the leeward, so that he may not get their scent) till within a short distance of him, when they shoot one of their tiny, poisoned arrows into a vital spot, and so Blay him. In hunting ostrich they contrive to approach behind a screen formed to look like one of those birds, until within arrow range, and kill a number of them. The bushman is very revenge ful, and easily takes offence, often with out the least cause. Not unfrequentlv he hamstrings a whole herd of cattle be cause the owner has angered him wit* tingly or unwittingly. The Dutch Boers in the vicinity of the Cape of Good Hope are so afraid of him and his poisoned ar° rows that they do not hesitate to shoot him down as they would a rabid dog whenever they have an opportunity. He is not devoid of intelligence, and might be civilized, it would seem, but no effort in this direction has yet been made. His treatment has been of a kind to render him still more savage. An Agreeable Companion. Ex-Gov. Magoffin, of Kentucky, 4s a good talker, and it is said that he likes to do most of the talking himself, and this story is told of him: Recently, in making the journey from Cincinnati to Lexington, he shared his seat in the car with a bright-eyed, pleasant-faoed gen tleman. The governor, after a few com monplace remarks, to which his com panion smiled and nodded assent, branched into a description of the scenes that he had witnessed in different parts of the country, grew eloquent over the war, described with glowing speech the horse races he had witnessed, talked learnedly of breeding, and told thrilling stcries of his battles with the Indians in the northwest. The hours slipped rapidly away, and when the train was nearing Lexington the two exchanged cards and parted with a cordial shake of the handA The governor drove to an iDD, and to a number of iriends he re marked that the ride had never seemed so short before. “ I hen you must have had pleasant company aboard ? ” “ You are right. I met a gentleman of unusual intelligence. We conversed all the way over. I never was brought in contact with a more agreeable man.” “Indeed! Who was he ?” asked his friends. “ Wait a minute, I have his card,” and the gov ernor felt in his pockets, and produced the bit of pasteboard. • “ His namo is King” “Not Bob King?” shtu ed a dozen in one breath. “ Yes, gentlemen, Robert King, that is the way the card reads,” was tbe proud reply. A roar of laughter followed. “ Why, governor, Bob King is as deaf as a post; he was born deaf and dumb 1 ” KRAKOW. rhe Jewl h Population ot the Old Poll-fa CapK al. Lemhi 11 Magazine. There are not many sights in Krakow ; and if there were I should not attempt to describe them, since nothing is duller than the guide-book-like enumeration of details into which one slides in trying to be exhaustive. Still, the Jewish town ought to be mentioned, for the Jews are the most striking feature in the popula tion of the city. They were, as old writers say, brought hither by King Cas imir the Great in the fourteenth century, and settled in the suburb which they still inhabit, and which is called from him the Casimir city. It is altogether unlike the inner city, with streets wider, houses comparatively low and mean, and an indescribable air of dirt and iqualor pervading every thing. There is an im mense bustle of buying and selling going on—a sort of perpetual rag fair— chiefly in wearing apparel, but also in all sorts of articles of domestic utility, fur niture, pots and pans, shovels and grid irons, pottery (all cheap and ugly), and small groceries. The dealers are mostly outside their doors, where, indeed, the greater part of their wares are displayed, and solicit the passer by in Polish, He brew, or, more rarely, German. There are altogether in Krakow, whose total population amounts to 40,000, over 12,000 Jews. The great majority are Orthodox or Rabbinical, and aie dis tinguished by their long straight coats of cloth, or alpaca, coming almost to the ankles, tall and narrow-brimmed hats, and little wispy curls on either side ol the face. Such a hideous dress creates a prejudioe against them, which is in large measure unjust, for they are a valuable element in the population of Poland, and get on better with the Christians than is the case further east, even in Germany. A few have begun to drop the peculiar dress, with the strict observance of the law, and may before long be absorbed in the body of the people. Though the race would seem to have kept pretty much to itself all these centuries, there s a great diversity of complexion among hese Polish Jews. Many are fair in face; some have sandy hair; but the characteristic features are seldom absent. In Poland, as elsewhere, they are towns folk, never settling down to till the soil; and their bustling activity makes them seem even more numerous in Krakow than they really are, so that a stranger might fancy it a Jewish city. It is by no means stagnant or decaying; for the converging railways and its position ina fertile country make it a place ot con siderable trade. But this hardly quali fies the air of melancholy that brood over it. The Poles are by nature, like their nearest relations, the Bohemians, a bright and vivacious people. Those who know the Slavonic race best generally agree in holding them to be its most highly gifted branch. And here in Ga licia they do not seem te have much roisgovernment to complain of, nor per haps anything more than the pedautry, formalism and backwardness which char acterize Austrian rule everywhere. The Polish tongue reigns, and Poles are freely admitted to the best posts under government which industry and talent can win. Nevertheless, the sense of the past, of the downfall of their monarchy, and the apparently destined extinction cf their nationality, seems to He like a load upon their souls. Krakow, with its grand old houses, its picturesque crowds, its pleasant gardensengirdling its houses, its bells, chiming ceaselessly in the clear summer air, is withal a place of sadness. Silver Mine Rimxaoos. Virginia < lty Enterprise. About ten o’clock yesterday mo:r. : ng a crowbar was dropped down the main vertical shaft ol the Savage from the surface, and went directly through a cage at the bottom, pierciDg the bonnet and floor. No one was on the cage at the time and no one was hurt, yet it is unpleasant to ore making a trip into a mine to reflect that such things some times occur. As the bar fell somethinr* over five hundred yards, it was traveling with the rapidity and vim of a cannon ball when it struck the cage. A bit of gravel no larger than a filbert sings like a bullet towards the latter part of such a journey. A dog once fell into a shaft at Gold Hill, and though the shaft was but three hundred feet in depth, two men upon whom the animal landed were killed, as also was the clumsy cur that had failed to hop across the top of the shaft. A rat qjice tell down the Consoli dated Virginia shalt in attempting to spring across a compartment from wall plate to wall plate, and eleven hundred feet below landed on the bald head of a miner and exploded like a bomb, causing the miner to think a reck had cut open the top of his head and let out his brains. A grain of bird-shot dropped into the top of a shaft fifteen hundred feet in depth would probably bury itsel in a plank, or any piece of wood i m'ght happen te strike at the bottom. This being the case, we repeat it is not pleasant to think of such things as crow bars going down shafts. ..An indifferent actor was playing in Othello at the Dunedin theatre. When he came to the passage: “ Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!” a stentorian voice roared from the gallery: “ All right, old man, drink away; you’re sate.” S. A. -CUNNINGHAM, .English Co-Operative Stores. It is singular that Americans, who or dinarily are not slow in adapting to their own uses the moneyssaving con trivances of foreigners, have never at tempted to start co-operative stores. In E gland these enterprises, begun only a few years ago on a small scale t>y those connected with the government civil service, have been surprisingly success ful. The first effort was exceedingly humble, the rooms being inconvenient as to location and the supplies of goods small; but by degrees this has been changed, and now the civil service stores in London, and others that have been established in that city and elsewhere on the same general plan, do an immense business, and contain large quantities of every conceivable article that enters in to household use. Ihese stores are car ried on by different companies, which are organized in such & manner that small amounts of etock are held by a very large number of persons. Toe goods are purchased by the agents of the companies, at the lowest market rates, and in turning them over to the con sumers every effort is made to keep down the cost to the lowest point that the nec essities of distribution will permit. That is, money is not spent to secure conspic uous quarters, or in interior or exterior decoration of the buildings; the number of salesmen and saleswomen is no larger than Is absolutely necessary, and it otters happens that purchasers have to await their turn to be served ; then, too, each customer has to make ut his own bill, and the goods bought are not sent home for him. In order that one may pur chase at these stores he must either be a stockholder or—as many Americans who have recently been in London know by experience—the friend of a stockholder. When so situated he obtains his supplies, oe they flour, oil, soap, dry goods, or co logne, at a price closely approximating to their wholesale cost. What is lelt over in the companie’s treasury, after expenses are paid, is returned as a div idend to those who hold the stock. The result has been that in a great number ot instances those trading at these co-op erative have stores been ab e to purchase household wares at a reduction of from 15 to 30 per cent, on their ordinary re tail price in London. The advantages of the plan are now so thoroughly recog n'zed that the prospectuses are out for two new stores, one a ladies’ millinery aqd dress-making establishment, the other for gentlemen’s furnishing goods of all kinds. The Zulus as Lion Hunters. Of the skill and courage of the Zulus many anecdotes are told, of which the following is a Bpecimeo: Some lew years ago a Zulu hunter, hearing a young British officer speak somewhat lightly ot native prowess, offered to give him a specimen of it by killing single handed a huge lion which infested the neighbor hood. The challenge was accepted, and the brave fellow at once set out on his dangerous errand, the officer and several of his comrads following at a distance. Aaving drawn the beast from his lair, the hunter wounded him with a well flung spear, and instantly fell flat on the [ground beneath his huge shield of rhinoceros hide, which covered his whole body like the lid of a dish. The lion, having vainly expended his fury upon it, at length drew back a lew paces. In stantly the shield rose again, a second lance struck him, and his furious rush encountered only'the impenetrable buck ler. Foiled again, the lion crouched close beside his ambushed enemy, as if meditating a siege, but the wily savage raised the further end of the shield just enough to let him creap noiselessly away in the darkness, leaving his buckler un moved. Arrived at a safe distance, be leveled his third spear at the broad yel low flank of the royal beast with Bucb unerring aim as to lay him dead on the spot, and then returned composedly to receive the apologies andbongratulations of the wondering spectators. Proverbs. This is anew and interesting way to play this game. A well known proverb is divided among the players, each tak ing a word, with the exception of one player, who leaves the room whilst the proverb is selected. When all arrange ments are made this player enters the room again and stands before all the others, who should be arranged in a semi circle. He then inquires the number of words of which the proverb consists. One player, who acts as leader, then gives three distinct beats with his hand, as if directing a concert; and at the third beat each player utters his own word, so as to produce a ki id of mixed roar This muf the repeated three times, and if the proverb is not guessed the outside player has to retire again. If he suc ceeds in guessiDg he can transfer his of fice to any other player whose particular word he can detect. Of course, the pro verb must be a well known one, or otherwise to guess it would be an im possibility. No one who has not tried this mode of playing at proverbs can form any conception of the extreme difficulty of discriminating the simultaneously uttered sounds. Old Practices. In some parts of Beotian I, in former times, the plows used to be drawn by four horses abreast, and required the at tendance of three men. The business of one man was to drive. For that purpose he placed himself between the middle horses, with his face toward the plow, to guide it straight, and in this position he Etepped backward with the reins in his hand. Aaother walked be hind the horses with a decked staff, which he fastened in front of the beam, and, by means of it regulated the depth of the furrow, by raising or lowering the plow, as occasion required. The plow man followed, with a hold of the stilts; and in this formidable and ludicrous way they repeated their attacks on the soil In harvest a basket machiae was placed on hurseback for carrying home the grain, and psrsons were employed on each side, with forks, to keep it in a proper poise. It is said that this prac tice is yet to be met with in Galloway. WAIFS AND WliltlS. 10 A U Its. titOt. *Ol, with dainty fwt, Bliir.ely fling d'wn the street,' *** The ou*'wt hetrt you ottll be.-u’lt With yo tr pret.y fsot sad tfiuuU; salt I Little *1 1, you * vrv fair With toeT ebeeta enl fliwiot htlr; Your eve' are b"*b r , tout s-t la y.naj, And words ar< muse lrota your tough* Lit le Sl, I love too well. How much ror v#re can never tell, But If the truth must he e>nfe.-.ed, I love tour jrovn-uo el.ter beat. .. A thermometer gains by degrees. . .The mean man is always meaner to himself than to anyone el-e. ..A pistol is not half so dangerou* when the owner is no; loaded. ..The Bennett Arctic exttedition will leave 8m Francisco dmiii*s ,Tu e. ..Almost all of us are g-nerout to a fault, it the fault happens to br our own, ..The sausage is the only sus.i s of ground hog that dees not hibamate in winter. . .Hudibras calls matrimony a perverse fever, beginning with heat an i ending with frost. J . The “ watch-dog’s honest bark” may be ail right, but it’s the qukt dog that puts in the bites. .. Poverty is a bully if you are afraid of it, but is good natureJ enough if you meet it halt way. ..The man who is waiting for some thiDg to turn up' generally finds it when he steps on a barrel-hoop. ..For fifteen years no governor of North Carolina has served out his ful term. . .One writes illegibly to hide his bad spelling, as one contents one's self with a hall smile to conceal poor teeth. . The man who sighed for the wings of a bird did not, apparently, know that the legs were much nicer eating. .. Modesty is a priceless virtue ; but if, like the paint on a w .man’s cheek, it is only '* put on,” it lost s its value. . .It is abase ball where only one lady monopolizes partners enough to have nine on a sida. Any other woman pres ent will say so. . .It is inferred from the heroism with which Spartan women used to encourage their husbands to g forth to battle that they loiktd well in b'ack. ..“Science,” says Dr. Holmes, “is a good piece of furniture for a man to hava in an upper chamber, provided he lu.> common sense on the ground floor.” ...A million little dlam'nda Twinkling on tha t ees, And a 1 the lilt e maidens said, “ A Jvw.l, li you pleisei" But vbile tin y held tb. lr hands outstretched To catch the diamond? gay. A million little lunboms came, And Stele tb m all away. . .Talk ab-.ui. the missing link as much as you will, the world at large will kep bo-.h eyes fixed on the young man who makes his first appearance in society in a claw-hammer coat. . .A man was desirous to call bis boy by .the name of Asa, but his wi'e, not liking the name, he told her that, if she would let him have his way that time, she might name the next two. ..“Bam,” said one little urchin to another — ‘ Sam, does your school master ever give you any rewards of meiit ?” “ I s’pose he.doea,” was the reply ;“ he gives me a lickin' reg’lar every day, and says I merit two.” ...Amelia waved her tan with gl-e, and, being in a playful muoJ, She gave the airy toy to roe. And bads me dirt it if I ouuld. The pleasant toil t quick began, But jea oui psugi my boaim hurt; “ Madam, I canuot flirt a far, But witn your leave IM fan a flirt." ..A correspondent wi-hes to know if we are the author of the “ Ametican Encyclofffiiia.” Well, no—no; net ex actly the author of it. We killed the canvasser, however, if that is what you mean. —[ Hawkeye. . .It is all very well to talk about econ omy, but the difficulty is to get anything to economize. The 1 ttle baby who puts his toes into bis mouth is almost the only person in these hard times who manages to make both ends meet. .. “ Can a man belong to a brass band and be a Christian?” a-fcs an exchange. We see no impsdiment in the way, But if he is given to practicing at home, it is an utter impo ibility for the man living next door to be a Christian. .. Avery old lady on her death bed, in penitential mood, said : “ I have been a ereat sinner more than eighty years, and didn’t know it.” An old colored woman, who bad lived with her a long time, ex claimed, “Lore! I fknowed it all the time.” ..“A glass of wine,” said Sheridan, “ encourages the thought which is slow to come, and when it comes it deserv<s a glass of wine ai a reward.” Let us add that if a man too often rewards the thought that is so slow in coming, it will hurry him to the station-house at doable quick. ..When a woman spends three hours in a hot kitchen and roasts her brains cu t almost in preparing a tempting and appe tizing dinner for her husband, to which he sits down without a word of c >mmen dation, and replies when asked how be likes his dinner, “ Oh, it will do,” the tired-out wile doesn't feel encouraged to waste much time on his sup,>er. ..Anyone wou’d naturally suppose that the dainty little package which the stylishly-dressed lady in the horse car guards so carefully contains some fragile specimen of ce amics, but a closer in spection will reveal the fact that ad eight-cent tin skimmer is cutting through the thin paper, and giving away the fair owner as a patron of “ house hold art” in its more primitive and use ful form. .. A good colored man cnee said in a class-meeting ; “ Brethren, when I was a boy I took a hate >et and went into de woods. When I found a tree that was straight, big and solid, I didn't touch dnt tree; but when I found one leanii g a little and hollow inside, I soon had him down. So when de debbil goes after Christians, he don’t touch dem dat stand straight and true, but dem dat lean a little and are hollow made. . .Incongruities will lometimcs occur, not in spite of fate, but because ate seems to lake a sort of sarcastic delight in producing them. A man who weighs several hundred pounds isalmuct ale'cyi deluded into taking 'or a wife a womsn small enough to wear as a charm on bis watch chain. Only the other day we heard of a man who was nearly seven feet high, while his wi e was considerably less than five feet. The minister tried to dissuade them, but the grtom amply replied: “Well, tir, the long and the short of it is”—when the clergyman broke in with “Yes, yes, I eee; it's the long and short of it that I am to unite in matrimony,”