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fIOSSII* FOB THE LADIES.
Her Rival.
4 The belle ? " ’Tie herd to ay, and yet
There in a (hi him hero—
u Handnoine? ” Well, yea. “Her etyle? ” Bruuett*—
The darling of her sphere.
I’ve watched her, and she never moves
Hut acme mun walk* clone by;
And yet there'* no one whom who loves
Or hate* 44 The reason why ? M
Just wait a little, a ch*ris;
4% IJer man tiers ? ” Neither grave
Nor guy. 44 The golden mean,” you osy;
And yet the women rave—
“ln praise? ” Ah, no! One seldom hoars
Her lauded by their Ups:
And yet the sweet silence that she woars
Tlieir malice doth eclipse.
44 Brilliant? M At times. Tills nut-brown maid
Shines brightest when she meets
Her match. Thus conflict oft, ’tin said,
Inspires the doughtiest feats.
44 Her style of beaux ? ” Both young and old
Yield fealty to her sway ;
Blonde beauty, with hi* board of gold,
And ugllneas in gray.
Lost night we sat ’neath the summer moon,
And her breath \arh like the rose;
Ami odors as sweet as buds in June
Follow her where sho goes.
44 1 love her? w Truly, that I do.
’Tie not long since 1 spoko
My love. I don’t mind this to you—
it ended all in smoke;
What, crying ? 44 Hate her ? ” Then I fear
I’ve carried the jest too far;
No rival is who of yours, my dear—
And her name is just—Clgarl
Scribner's,
\n Expensive Accident*
At a fashionable dinner party a lady
guest was so unfortunate as to break a
plate belonging to a sot of French china.
The lady insisted on either mending or
replacing it- 2 but rinding both impossible
she was obliged to send abroad and du
plicate the entire set of 200 pieces.
A fraud.
An unmarried Englishman, visiting
our fair city of Boston, saw a handsome
ly dressed young lady on the street and
■was told that she was the daughter of a
wealthy merchant. He became acquaint
ed, ana the girl knowing the woman
who watched the interests of an elegant
house whose owners were at the sea
shore, was permitted by her to receive
him there. She also gave him dinners
there, hiring waiters. She told him
that her parents were in Europe. He
proposed, was accepted, and found that
the wife he had won was a shop girl.
Vrcss BColorm.
An English lady of wealth is agitating
the question of dress reform in England,
and says for those who are not strong,
the fatigue of battling every few steps
with the narrow, clinging skirt is a very
serious consideration. In walking women
step from their hips like the rest of the
human race, and in the present style of
dress it so fastens the legs that she is
obliged to take short, stumbling steps,
and there is usually a piece of skirt
which is alternately kicked out and
caught by the heel behind, which would
strike every one as most absurd, if we
were not so thoroughly used to seeing it.
There seems to be only one way out of
it, and that is to have the present tight
skirt divided, so as to be something like
the trousers worn by women in the East.
They would be quite loose, perfectly
comfortable and graceful in appearance.
The bodice of the dress could then he
cut after the fashion of an out-door
jacket, coming to the knees. This re
form in dress will probably never be fol
lowed by English ladies, though they
seem strongly interested in it. Until
then American ladies will not exercise
their minds about it.
Woman’s Work.
Women frequently complain that men
do not know how hard they are obliged
to work. The many little things they are
required to do are quite as taxing upon
them, they rightly say, as the larger la
bors of the masculine sex. The Rev.
Thomas K. Beecher says something on
this subject which all women will ap
preciate. “ All men,” remarks this dis
tinguished gentleman, “ought to go to
the woods and ck> their own washing and
general work, such as sweeping, house
keeping and dish-washing. The work
of women is not spoken of sensibly by
men till they have done it themselves.
Gentlemen readers, it is easy to talk,
but just try it on a very medest scale
once, and you will honor working women
more than ever. Do as I have done—
do a wash of six pieces, and then re
member that a woman turns off 200
pieces a day. Look at your watch
and see how long it takes yon. Look
at your soap and see how much you
have used. Look at your white clothes,
handkerchiefs and towels and see what
you have done, and never again speak
liarshly of or to a woman on washing
day, nor of laundry work as if it were
unskillful labor. Try it. A sympa
thetic gentleman, having washed two
pieces, will never change his shirt again
without a glow of reverence and grati
tude. She did this. A similar and sal
utary consciousness will come over him
who dams his own socks, patches his
own trousers, splices his suspenders and
washes his dishes. Look not every man
upon his own things, but every man
also upon the work of a woman. Such
an experience in the woods will go far
toward :i settling the woman question,
by teaching us that we are all members
of one another, and there must be no
schism.”
Stark Mail on a Plaque.
There is a pretty mad woman on the
west side. We do not mean on the west
side of the woman, but on the west side
of the raging Milwaukee river. The
woman is mad on both sides—not on
both sides of the river, but on both sides
of her. Now you understand. This
woman had a plaque. If you don’t know
wliat that is you are not smart. A
plaque is a platter made of wood or
china, or something on which is painted
a picture in oil, and the plaque is put
upon a mantel or an easel to be admired.
This lady had one of them, real bad.
That is, the plaque was not had, but the
lady had it considerable. It was the
most beautiful thing she ever saw, and
would stand and gaze upon it for hours
at a time, and when she went to bed
and left it she did so with regret. She
would have slept with that plaque if she
had not been otherwise engaged. The
world seemed to revolve around that
plaque, and the only thing the lady
worried about was that she could not
take it with her when she went
to heaven. The other morning the serv
ant girl said the cook had broke the
meat platter, and wanted to know what
she should take up the meat for break
fast on. The lady, thinking of a fancy
platter in the closet which she kept for
state occasions, told the girl to take that
platter with the picture on, and then
went on pinning her hair with hairpins,
and finally went down to breakfast. As
she was pouring out the coffee she
thought she detected an odor of sanctity
and tried chromo, and she looked at the
meat plate and turnod pale. Thero was
her wooden plaque, full of boiling grease
and floating sausage, and through the
grease she could see her beautiful oil
painting struggling up under difficulties.
There was a commingling of Alpine
scenery and links of sausage that the
artist never intended, and the lady took
the plaque in her hand and went to the
kitchen, where she brained the cook.
There was nothing clso to do. Ladies
who have plaques, and any lady iH liable
to have them, as they are said to bo
catching, should watch the cook. —
Peck's Sun.
■low iv Woman Kcntlw n VicwspniU'r.
According to Mrs. Gertrude Garrison
this is how she does it: “She takes it
up hurriedly and begins to scan it over
rapidly, as though she was hunting some
particular thing, hut sho is not. She is
merely taking in the obscure poragi aplrn,
which, she believes, wore put in the out
of-the-way places for the sake of keep
ing her from seeing them. As she fln
ishes each one her countenance bright
ens with the comfortable reflection that
she has outwitted the editor and the
whole race of men, for she cherishes a
vague belief that newspapers are the en
emies of her sox, and editors her chief
oppressors. Sho never roods the head
lines, and the lingo telegraph heads sho
never sees. Sho is greedy for local
news, and devours it with the keenest
relish. Marriages and deaths are always
interesting reading to her, and adver
tisements are exciting and stimu
lating. She cares but little for
printed jokes unless they reflect ridicule
upon the men, and then shu delights in
them and never forgets them. She pays
particular attention to anything inclosed
in quotation marks, and considers it
lather better authority than anything
first-handed. The columns in which the
editor airs his opinions, in leaded hifii
lutin, she rarely roads. Views are of no
importance in her estimation, hut facts
are everything. She generally reads
the poetry. She doesn’t always cave for
it, but makes a practice of reading it,
because she thinks she ought to. Sho
reads stories, and sketches, and para
graphs indiscriminately, and believes
every word of them. Finally, after she
has read all she intends to, she lays the
paper down with cn air of disappoint
ment, and a half-contemptuous gesture,
which says very plainly that sho thinks
all newspapers miserable failures, but is
certain that if she had a chance she
could make the only perfect newspaper
the world had ever seen.
“The Mad Poet.'’
Such was the name given to McDon
ald Clarke, a wild, eccentric writer of
verses, who lived in the city of New
York some thirty years ago. He had a
talent for improvisation, which he used
to celebrate the charms of those persons
of whom, from time to time, he became
enamored.
A volume of his poems, published by
subscription, contains in the preface
these touching paragraphs:
“I won't pester folks with apologies.
Here’s a rough handful of flowers—a
little dirt about the roots—a tear’ll wash
it off!
“If the life of my poetry is whole
some, ’twill breathe after the wild spirit
that inspired it has been sobered at the
terrible tribunal of eternity, and the
weak hand that traced it, long wasted to
ashes.”
In one of these wild moods which
frequently came upon him, when the will
to be sublime was not sustained by the
strength, he wrote these lines on Wash
ington :
“ Eternity—give him elbow room;
A spirit lik" his is huge;
Earth—fence with artillery his tomb,
And lire a double charge,
To the memory of America’s greatest man;
Match him, posterity, if you can.”
He was a regularly attendant on Suu
day church services, and in one of his
lucid moods wrote this tender, simple
tribute to the Sabbath:
“ I feel the happier nil the week,
If my foot has pressed the sacred aisle,
The pillow seems softer to my cheek;
i sink to slumber with a smile;
With sinful passions cease to fight,
And sweetly dream on Sunday night.”
He died in the lunatic asylum on
Blackwell’s Island, and was buried in
Greenwood Cemetery. Speaking of the
arrangements he desired made for his
funeral, he said:
“I hope the children will come. I
want to be buried by the side of children.
Four things lam sure there will be in
heaven —music, flowers, pure air and
plenty of little children.”
“The Collector.’’
It is always the fate of a man who tries
to collect an old bill to get snubbed.
Now we think of it, the old bill collector
who trudges painfully through the
streets from day to day, trying to find
the man who is ever trying to dodge
him, ought to have more sympathy. His
only business is to persuade delinquents
to pay their just debts, and yet every
body looks upon him very much as a
sailor looks upon a craft that has raised
the black flag of piracy. Poor fellow !
He has a hard time of it trying to catch
sight of the man who has just gone round
the corner, who will bo back in five min
utes, so the clerk says, but who never
comes back until the old bill collector
has gone. It is on record that by some
strange fatuity of fortune a collector
once found his debtor at home. Such a
circumstance nearly took his breath
away, for, like the Wandering Jew, he
had been flying from pillar to post for
nearly a year, and had never once found
the right man in the right place ; but he
took out his battered wallet and pre
sented the account, yellow with age, and
humbly asked for a settlement. “ You
must call again,” was the stern, impera
tive demand of the man, who never in
tended to have money enough to pay
that bill. The victim with the thread
bare clothes and wornout shoes sug
gested that it was not easy to go up throe
flights of stairs three times a day in order
to find the ominous word “ out” on the
office door. “Well,” said the haughty
debtor, “ perhaps you would like to have
me rent a room on the first floor fdr the
sake of my creditors.” The old hill col
lector uttered a deep sigh, put his wallet
back into his pocket, and walked into a
back alley where his home was, while
the jaunty debtor sprang into Ins landau
and went up to the park for a drive.
Such is life.— -New York Herald.
Ships That Have Never Been Heard
From.
The following European steamers have
never been heard of after leaving port:
The President, which sailed from this
port on March 11, 1841, had among her
passengers Tyrone Power, the famous
Irish comedian, and a son of the Duke
of Richmond. The Great Britain was
lost in a storm on the coast of Ireland;
left Sept. 22, 1846. The City of Glas
gow was never heard of after leaving
Glasgow in the spring of 1854; 480 lives
were lost. The Pacific was never heard
from after Jan. 23, 1856, when she left
Liverpool; 200 lives lost. The Tempest
was never heard from after she left New
York on Feb. 26, 1857. The Connaught
burned off the coast of Massachusetts
Oct. 7, 1860. The United Kingdom left
New York April 17, 1869; was never
heard from ; eighty lives lost. The City
of Boston left New York Jan. 25, 1870,
and was never afterward heard from;
about 160 lives lost. The Hibernia
foundered off the Irish coast Nov. 29,
1868, hut was heard from. The Caroli
na was wrecked on the Irish coast Nov.
29, 1868, and fifty lives lost. The Is
malia left New York Sept. 29, 1873, and
is yet unheard of. The St. George was
destroyed by fire at sea Dec, 24, 1852.
.New York Dispatch
Tlie Hoosier Farmer,
At an Indiana State fair the observer
sees nil sorts of curious people. The
daughters of the wealthy farmers arc
present, stylishly dressed and self-pos
sessed in manner, well aware that they
oome from the first people of tlio State.
The tall, broad-shouldered Hoosier far
mers examine everything with keen in
telligence, but with the slow look of
county folk who cannot see objects at a
glance, but look hard at a thing to take
it in. The dark Hoosier wives have a
quiet, unhurried manner, and gentle
voices without the nasal twang, thank
1 leaven. Here and there among them is
the old man who has cut three farms out
of the green woods. Ho is a progressive
old fellow, and justly proud of himself.
But most interesting are tlio poor people
from Dogtown, “The little town of
Tailholt,” and from "the crawfish
lands," the wot lands of Indiana. They
are dressed in thick woolen hats and
woolen clothes; the further you go south
the more cordially do the men hate straw
hats and linen coats. They look worn
opt, ground out, broken and cracked to
the sexy marrow on the wheel of priva
tion, and they are tanned, weather
beaten, bes) lotted with exposure, yet it
is because they arc too lazy to make
themselves comfortable. At tlieir doors
are all the elements of luxury and wealth
—the best brick clay for houses in the
world, and the best’walnut for furniture,
the best kaolin for porcelain, the
llax, and sheep, if their dogs did not de
vour them, for clothes. They are round
shouldered, lean and uncomfortable with
laziness, in a hot climate as elsewhere
laziness being one of the discomforts of
life. But they have content, that virtue
of a low capacity; the men who cannot
plow one hundred acres is content with
one. Had they the energy of the in
habitants of our great northwestern em
pire they might live in magnificence.
City roughs, flashily dressed, hurry
about with characteristic recklessness.
Plenty of negroes besprinkle the crowd.
Occasionally you see a homesick immi
grant not long from Castle Garden. He
longs for his native hills and air, and
finds no comfort in this strange laud. As
an offset to tho homesick one comes a
woodcarver who has been to his old home
in Switzerland for his health, this sum
mer, and has just got hack. Ho says
the people at home are doing nothing
but living, and lie is glad to get back
where there is plenty of sky once more.
By-and-by the homesick one will share
his views, and write to his people at
home to join him in this fair Eldorado.—
Ex-change.
How He Was Hurt.
Those of our readers who have been
“under tire” will endorse this graphic
narrative of the way shells explode. One
day, down in the Peninsula, after Mc-
Clellan’s battles, a wounded negro was
brought into camp. Ho had been shot
in the leg with a piece of shell, and was
really very badly hurt. He was a plan
tation negro, and entirely a non-combat
ant, After he got better he was describ
ing to tho doctor, one afternoon, how he
had been hurt, and did it in this manner:
“Ye see, boss, I was on de ole planta
tion when dem Y’ankee gunboats dey
come up de ribber. Ole massa and missis
liad done gone days afore, and we nig
ger's were lef’ on de plantation.”
“When we seed de Yankees a-comin’
up de ribber we all run away an’ hid in
de woods. Bv-um-by de boats begun to
shell de woods, an’ Lor’-a-massa, what a
noise dey did make!
“Shells as big as flour barrels was
frowd into de wood and knocked de
trees down. It was awful hot, I tell you,
mid I thought de world was a-comin’ to
de end.
“De niggers prayed; but it didn’t do
no good, as de Yankees only frowed de
more shells, and de Lord seemed deaf to
de partitions of de collud persons.
"Home of dem shells would go high
up in de air and say, ‘Whar is lie? Whar
is he?’ like as ef dey was a-lookia’ fo’
somebody.
“Den, by-um-by, dey would say, ‘I
see him, I see him!’and wid dat, dey
would bust, and all de little pieces go
skirmishing around de woods after de
nigger.
“It was one of dese little pieces dat
cotcli mo in de. leg, and dat’s how I got
hurt. It was a powerful warm day,
massa, a powerful warm day, I tell yer.”
Watering Horses.
There is a great diversity of opinion
as to how often horses should be watered
during a day, whether in summer or in
winter. We have an article now before
us of a. writer of some distinction as an
agriculturist, who advocates frequent
watering of work horses, as a renewer
of the vigor of the animals. We can
not agree with him. We think both
man and beast are generally watered too
much. Men and horses at hard work ir
warm weather perspire just in propor
tion to tho quantity of fluids taken into
the stomach. Frequent drinking in hot
weather, according to our experience,
emasculates instead of refreshes. Some
years ago, being at Cape May, in driv
ing out in one of the stand-coaches of
the place on a very hot day, we asked the
driver how it -was that liis horse per
spired so little, while the horses of pri
vate carriages, going at a slower speed,
were covered with foam. He replied
that he watered his horses three times a
day only, though he sponged their
mouths frequently, while the private
drivers watered their horses whenever
they stopped. He said, and it seemed
to us very sensible, that the frequent
watering of horses effected no good pur
pose, while it made them very uncom
fortable and lethargic. Horses, no mat
ter what their work was, did not need
watering oftener than three tunes a day.
Our own experience with horses all our
life is to the same effect.— Exchange.
A Caution About. Shot in Game.
The London Lancet publishes the fol
lowing : Tins being the season when
game killed by shot, and probably con
taining the pellets, is eaten, it may be
worth while to caution those who con
sume the flesh of birds with avidity
that the proportion of instances in which
shot is found is probably small in com
parison with the number of cases in
which the pellets are unwittingly swal
lowed. It is a matter of speculation
how much mischief a shot may do, when
it is passed into the intestines, but the
fact that anomalous diseases have been
set up by the presence of very small
bodies which have been entangled in tho
folds of the mucous mombiane renders
it desirable to put the public on their
guard. Occasionally the most disastrous
results have followed such small causes.
We have in recollection the case of a
physician who died after prolonged and
unexplained sufferings from (he impac
tion of a very small nail which had
found its way into a pudding, and was
inadvertently swallowed. A little care
will avoid this contingency; but, re
membering the bird had been shot, some
pains onght certainly to be taken to
avoid swallowing the missile.
A correspondent says that ho has
tried mixing sulphur with salt and giving
to his hogs and sheep for lice and ticks,
and finds it effective.
OUR YOUNG FOLKS.
1145.11 X KNOWN HOW.
Tho awful fact labuynnri u doubt,
Tho ruflo wum open. and Dirk flow out,
" What shall 1 do 7” cried Pot, half wild.
And Nurno Deb nays, 44 Why, brow you, child,
1 knows a plan dat’ll nehhoi fail;
.Jos put boiuo suit on yer birdie’s tall.”
4 ‘ Why. you silly old nurso, Mwould nOTer do;
That plan Is worthy a like you.
What! salt for birds. No sugar, Isay;
I'll <*onx him hack to roe right away.”
But wicked Dick, with his round black oyea,
Ho wouldn't ho caught in this gentle wise.
Mamma come* In, and sho sees the plight;
It will tako her wits to sot it. right;
That lig bandana on Dob’s black head,
Ere Dick can jump, ’tin over him spread;
Then two soft hands, they hold him fast;
Tho bright little rogue is caught at lust.
As into his cage tho truant goes
IVit says, 44 Now nurse, Ido suppose
That salt and sugar, though two nice things,
Are not a mutch for u birdie's wings;
And, Dob, 1 think wo must allow,
When a thing’s to ho done mamma knows how.”
A I*l til* lt.j Wlio Kan Assy.
“On no account arc you to leave the
iloor step,” said mamma.
Freddy said, “No, ma’am;” and I sup
pose that when he said it he meant it.
The door-step seemed very pleasant to
the little boy, who was seldom allowed to
go there alone, for there was nice back
garden, and every afternoon all summer
Betsy, the girl, or dear mamma herself
took him to the Central Park, and in
cold weather to take a nioo walk ill tho
streets. Just then he did not want to
leave tho step, for mamma had put tlio
red rug down for him to sit on, and lie
had his little sealskin overcoat on and
was ever so sung and comfortable.
So he said briskly and cheerfully,
“No, ma’am.”
And mamma said: “That’s a good
boy, and as soon as you feel cold, come
in. I must go now and see to baby.”
Then she softly closed the door behind
her so that it did not quite catch, for sho
thought that Freddy would certainly run
in in a few moments, and she did not
wish him to find any trouble in getting
the door open.
Then she went up to the nursery, and
tlie little boy sat where she had left him
and watched the people going to and fro
in the street, and carriages going past,
and big express wagons, and people with
things to sell, and poor beggars going
from door to door with baskets. Some
thing new every moment, for it was a
pleasant day and the streets were full.
At last, however, Freddy began to be
tired, and to wonder whether it was
lunch-time, and he was just about to
give the door a push and go in, when he
heard music. Such beautiful music it
seemed to him that he stopped and looked
-about him. There, up the street, came
a little crowd of children, and in their
midst he saw a man who carried an organ
on his back, and on his shoulder a
monkey—a little, black monkey with a
long tail, who wore a red frock and a lit
tle, velvet ca)i.
The man had stopped playing when
Freddy saw him, for, when he heard
the music, he was yet around the cor
ner, but when he saw Freddy sitting
on the step, he stopped, turned the or
gan in front of him, let out a cord by
which he held the monkey so that it
could jump and run a long distance, and
began to play again, while the monkey
ran up the steps and held up his hat for
money. Freddy had a two-cent piece in
his pocket, and he put it into the mon
key’s hat, and then the organ man
played a little faster, for now he had all
the money he expected to get he made
up his mind to get through as fast as pos
sible and go before some other house.
So as soon as lie had finished the tune
—I think it was the Star Spangled Ban
ner—he moved oft', walking sideways,
and looking up at the windows for other
little boys and gills, and all the children
followed him.
I am sorry to say that Freddy went
with them. He was so delighted with
the little black monkey that he forgot all
about his promise to mamma. He ran
down the steps and looked on with the
rest of the children.
They were mostly very dirty children,
indeed; not only were they ragged, and
some, poor souls, barefooted, but seemed
to have no soap and water and no pocket
handkerchiefs at home.
The clean little boy in his sealskiu
overcoat did look very oddly in such a
group; but he was not thinking of his
looks as he trotted on, with his eyes on
the funny black monkey, stopping when
ever the man stopped, and going further
and further away from home and those
who loved him.
I must say for him that he did not
think what he was doing; but we will
find that if we do not think in this world
we will be punished for it.
At last the organ man stopped play
ing, as it seemed, for good. He shut his
organ and put it on his back and walked
away. He was near his own home, and
was going to get his dinner. And now,
as lie looked around, he saw all the poor
children gone, and only a little boy in a
sealskin overcoat, and with gold buttons
on his cuffs and collar, following him.
“That is a rich man’s son,”* he said;
then he looked at the coat. “Real seal
skin,” he whispered. “It cost lots of
money.”
Then he smiled at little Freddy, and
said, in broken English:
“Well, little gentleman, and do you
like to hear the pretty music, and see the
pretty monkey ?”
“Yes, sir,” said Freddy; “and I gave
the monkey my two-cent penny, and he
gave it to yon. ”
“Very good,” said the organ-grinder
—“very good of the little gentleman;
and now if you will come with me I will
show you where the monkey lives, and
you can come to see him every day, and
I shall let you play the organ yourself. ”
Freddy was delighted. He at once
gave his hand to the organ-grinder, and
trotted away with him up the dirtiest
street he had ever seen, and into a house
that was absolutely filthy. How it
smelt! How it looked! What broken
stairs there were; and into what a room
he went, where a woman and four or five
boys were sitting about a table, eating
long white strings of something out of
tin plates.
A harp stood in the corner, and two
fiddles in green bags hung on the wall,
and there was a tamborine. The family
were evidently musical, but somehow
Freddy felt frightened.
“I want to go home,” lie said.
“Not yet, little gentleman,” said the
organ-grinder. “You must first see the
monkey eat.”
“I’d rather go home,” said Freddy,
beginning to cry. “I’m hungry.”
“Have some maccaroni, little gentle
man,” said the woman.
Then she gave him a tin plate and a
lead spoon, and helped him to some of
the stuff in the big bowl on the table;
but it did not taste good, and Freddy,
though he was so young, felt that it was
dirty.
“You must take your coat off before
you eat, you know,” said the organ
man.
Freddy again declared that he would
rather go home, but the organ-grindei
helped him off with his coat, so that he
had no choice, and he tried to eat some
of the stuff, though it tasted so very
nasty.
Then he put the pinto on the table and
stud:
“Please, sir, lot me go home. I'nt on
my coat and lot me go homo.” .
Hut nobody answered him. The man,
the woman, and the boys were all about
him, staring at him with their big, black
eyes, and showing their white teeth, as
though there wore some groat joke afoot;
nml now the woman said, only he did not
understand her:
“ And the cap is sealskin, also,” and
took it oft'.
And the man said:
“ A good suit; a lino white shirt and
gold studs,” and took oft his jacket, his
little pants, his white shirt and his nice
boots. He would have taken his stock
ings and flannel underclothes, too, but
the woman said:
“No, leave those. Ido not want the
child to die of cold, as our little Angelo
did in this dreadful country.”
So they loft those and put over them
some lifthy rags, and tied on hirf feet
wretched shoes with the toes out, and
then the man said:
“ Come, you may go homo now.”
Little Freddy was only too glad to go,
even without his clothes.
He ran out of the room ns soon as the
door was opened, nml down into the
street, and there the organ man clutched
him by the arm and led him away for a
block or two, and then said:
“Shut your eyes a minute, little gen
tleman. ”
Freddy did so. The man let go his
arm, and in a minute, Freddy said:
“ Please, sir, mayn’t I open my eyes
now?”
Nobody answered, and he opened
them. Then ho saw that he was all
alone. He ran on a little; and then he
began to see that he was not in any street
he knew. He had no idea where his
home was or how to And it. He knew
he was lost, and began to cry; hut ho
was - not taken any notice of. If he had
been dressed as he was when he went
out upon his own trout stoop, no doubt
things would have been difterent; but
people only saw very ragged child—
one of those who are always in the street
—a little beggar taught to cry, so that
the passers by would givo him money,
perhaps.
They went on their way and did not
speak. Ho was hungry and tired, and
cold and frightened, and ho wished,
over and over again, that he had not
left, his own door; he knew all his trouble
came from that, and when at last a big
policeman stopped and asked him what
was the matter, ho could only cry and
say: “I want my mother; I want my
papa; I want my home, and dinner.”
And the policeman was very kind. He
took him in his arms and carried him
to the station-house.
“Here’s another lost child,” he said,
as lie. sat him d<ra n.
“Gentleman here just now for a lost
child,” said another officer; “but it was
not a child like that. Had on a sealskin
overcoat and cap, and gold buttons on
his sleeves. He says his mother will die
if lie’s not found, and lie seems nearly
crazy himself. They fear that the child
lias gone to the river and got drowned.
Name of Murray; little boy called
Fred.”
“ That’s me,” said Freddy. “ Oh,
that’s me.”
“Likely,” said the policeman; “you
look like one to wear a sealskin coat. ”
“ The organ grinder took if off,” said
Fred. “Oh, call my own papa. He’ll
know it’s his little Fred. ”
And just then someone said: “Any
new's yet?” and in at the door came such
a worried-looking man, that Freddy
hardly knew him for his wailing papa;
but it was. And lie knew Freddy even
in those dirty rags, and how glad they
both were, and how glad mamma was when
papa carried him home.
“ I never will run away again,” said
Fred. “ I never will be such a bad boy
any more; I always will mind,” and ho
meant it. Catch Freddy to do anything
his mother tells him not to do now. He
knows what comes of it too well.
Hyper Gentility.
A sorrowful sight in this world is a
man who can do but one thing, follow
but one avocation in life, and who if by
chance is disabled from performing that
is utterly incapable of making a living
by turning to something else. Horace
Greeley said he knew hundreds of men
who possessed the finest classical ed
ucations that it was possible to obtain in
our American colleges, who walked the
pavements aimlessly, unable to support
themselves, and scarcely knowing where
the next meal was to come from. By a
deplorable false notion instilled into
their minds while young as to “genteel
occupation,” they were unfitted to be
come useful members of society.
Many boys of the present day seem to
have a strong aversion to every kind of
trade, business calling, or occupation,
that requires labor, and an equally
strong tendency toward some so-called
“genteel” employment or profession.
Parents are too often responsible for
this disposition on the part of their
sous. Boys should he taught that all
honest labor is honorable, whether it be
on the farm, in the workshop, or the
counting-house. Early in life they
should be given some responsibility,
some stated labor to perform, and thus
be trained up with the idea that some
thing is required of them in life—that
there is work to he done and victories to
be won. Boys who are never taught to
do anything when young, seldom ac
complish much in alter years. Parents
should learn that it is in the early years
of the boy that decide what the future is
to he. Some task should be given to all
children, and it should he insisted that
whatever is required of them should be
faithfully performed.
Then in the matter of education too
much attention is given to ornamental
branches and too little to the useful.
What is required is first of all, a good
English education. If we can have
nothing more, by all means let us have
this. Then where this can be done,
every young man and woman should be
thoroughly disciplined in the system of
accounts, and the correct methods of
transacting business. Where possible,
every boy and girl should have the ad
vantages of a practical training at some
well conducted business college. The
education to be acquired at our
leading schools of this class fits a young
man for the farm, the workshop, the
counting-house, or any useful calling
that he may desire to adopt, and it gives
young lathes that which makes them far
more self-helpful, useful and independ
ent.
Isn’t It Fanny?
A man who has about forty-seven hairs
growing on his face is always possessed
to wear a full beard, and goes about with
a countenace like a thinly-settled huckle
berry pasture; while the man that can
boat Aaron of old clean out of sight with
a full beard, shaves close twice a week,
and the rest of the time his face looks
like a sheet of No. 4 emery paper. They
are each reaching for the imposs ible,
and miss it by a hair.
The young girl of the period is gener
ally pert with the other sex until she
is married, and then she becomes ex-pert.
—Boston Commercial Bulletin. •
Aristocracy Defined.
It is curious how ignorant the public
is of the essential qualifications of its
representatives. They ask if a man is a
Republican, a Democrat. Yes. Is ho a
man of talent? Yes. Ih he honest? Ho
iH honest. Then they choose him by ac
clamation, go home and tell tlioir wives
great satisfaction about a good thing
they have done. But they forgot the
fourth question, no less important, with
out which tho others do not avail -Has
lie a will? Can ho carry his points
against. opposition? Probably not— more
than taste und talont go to tho will.
That must also ho a gift of nature. I
should sny if it is not in you you had
hotter not put yourself in places whoro
not to have it is to lie a public enemy.
I do not pity tho misery of any man
under place; hut I pity the man ovor
place.
lteal aristocracy is the class eminent
by personal qualities, and it goes without
assertion, according to tho proverb, that
a certain quantity of power belongs to a
certain quantity of faculty. Whoever
wants more power than the legitimate at
traction of his faculty is a politician, and
must truckle for it. It is the whole
game of society in tho polities of tho
world. He will always contrive to seem,
without tho trouble of being. Tho man
of character has no taste for attention,
none for a contest of talents. Ho is
wholly real; he cannot be flattered, bo
cannot bo insulted. Only himself can
measure to please him. His words are
things. He does not add to liis denial
the sanction of an oath. He says to tho
juror, “You add your oath; I put my
oath into my affirmation.”
With the" abolition of kingship and
aristocracy, equality and humanity begin.
Thus there is no tyranny of poverty ex
cept in the fears it brings. Still distinc
tions continue. In the will of the majori
ties the young adventurer finds the domi
nation of society. The distinctions of
classes irk and annoy him, and lie allies
himself to each malignant party that as
sails what is eminent. He will one day
know that this lias not removed them.
They are in the nature of things. No
Congress, nor mob, nor guillotine, nor
fire, nor altogether, can avail to cut out,
burn or destroy the offence of superiority
in persons. The superiority in him is
inferiority in me. I never feel that any
man occupies my place. The reason
wiiy I do not have what I want is that I
want the faculty which entitles superior
po iver. Some men dare much, but it is
because they are in their place. As long
as I am in my place lam safe. The
best lightning-rod for your own protec
tion is your ow r n spine.— Ralph Waldo
■.
A Lightning Flash.
The destructive effects of lightning
are familiar to all of you. All the more
ordinary effects can easily he reproduced
by the help of Leyden jars on a small
scale. How small you may easily con
ceive when I tell you that a three-foot
spark is considered a long one, even
from our most powerful machines, while
it is quite certain that lightning flashes
often exceed a mile in length, and some
times extend to four and live miles.
One recorded observation, by a trust
worthy observer, seems to imply a dis
charge over a total length of nearly ten
miles. When a tree is struck by a vio
lent discharge, it is usually split up
laterally into mere fibers. A more mod
erate discharge may rupture the chan
nels through which the sap flows, and
thus the tree may he killed without
suffering any apparent external damage.
These results are usually assigned to
the sudden vaporization of moisture,
and the idea is probably accurate, for it
is easy to burst a very strong glass tube
if we fill it with water and discharge a
jar by means of two wires whose ex
tremities are placed in the water at a
short distance from one another. The
tube bursts even if one end be left open,
thus showing that the extreme sudden
ness of the explosion makes it act in all
directions, and not solely in that of least
resistance. When we think of the dan
ger of leaving even a few drops of water
in a mold into which molted iron is to
bo poured, we shall find no diffi
culty in thus accounting for the
violent disruptive effects produced
by lightning. Heated ah is found
to conduct better than cold ah,
probably on account of the diminution
of density only. Hence we can easily
see how it is that animals are often
killed in great numbers by a single
discharge, as they crowd together in a
storm, and a column of w’arm ah rises
from the group. Inside a thunder
cloud the danger seems to he much
loss than outside. There are several
instances on record of travelers having
passed through clouds from which, both
before and after their passage, fierce
flashes were seen to escape. Alany re
markable instances are to be found in
Alpine travel, and especially in the re
ports of the officers engaged in the sur
vey of the Pyrenees. Several times it
is recorded such violent thunder-storms
were seen to form round the mountain
on which they were encamped that the
neighboring inhabitants were surprised
to see them return alive. Before tho
use of lightning-rods on ships became
general great damage was often done to
them by lightning. The number of
British ships of war thus wholly de
stroyed or much injured during the long
wars toward the end of the last and the
beginning of the present century is
quite comparable with that of those lost
or injured by gales, or even in battle.
In some of these cases, however, the
damage was only indirectly due to
lightning, as the powder-magazines were
blown up. In the powder-magazine of
Brescia, in 1700, lightning set lire to
over 2,000,000 pounds of gunpowder,
producing one of the most disastrous ex
plosions on record.— Nature.
Confections from Rags.
The manufacture of glucose from rags,
a novel industry, carried on in Germany,
is regarded with much disfavor, and it is
understood that the German Govern
ment will be likely to interfere with the
business. The glucose is said to bo
chemically identified with grape sugar.
The process, which is represented to be
very cheap, is as follows : Old linen
rags, which are composed of hard vege
table fibers, are converted into dextrine
by tho application of sulphuric acid, and
the product thus obtained is then washed
with milk of lime. Next it is treated
with a stronger solution of the sulphuric
acid than that first ÜBed, when the ma
terial is immediately transformed and
crystallized into a glucose, from which
appetizing jellies and tempting confec
tions can lae made.
He said he was bashful and blushed
painfully, and asked her if she could
spell bashful. She said she might do it
on a pinch, and spelled it b-a-s-li-f-o-o-1.
Then he looked uneasily at her and be
gan to wonder if she were unutterably
ignorant or superlatively sarcastic.
Those are cute fellows, those Now
York sharpers. One of them advertised
that he could cure a turn-up nose, and
would send directions to all who would
forward a dollar. A lady sent this
amount, and was told in reply to employ
a blacksmith to hit her nose on the end
with a sledge hammer.
HITS OF KNOWLEDGE. 1
The wearing of buckles commenced
iu the reign ol Charles 11., but people
of inferior rank and such na affected
plainness in their garb wore strings in
their shoes some yours after that period.
The word Morpheus is pronounced
Morfenee, in two syllables, and not in •
three, ns is often heard. Ho is in Greek
and Roman mythology the God of
Dreams, and a son of Somnus, who pre
sided over sleep.
Gait. Lawson, when in Now Guinea,
found that Mount Hercules was 82,78(1
feet high. If his calculation is correct
that mountain must bo taken, in the
absence of other and more accurate de
terminations, to be tho highest in tho
world.
Tint system of prepaying postage by
means of small ndhesivo labels, to be
sold to tho public and received by the
poßtoflioe in evidence of puymeut when
attached to letters or papers, was first
advocated by Howland Hill, in 1887, and
was adopted by tho British postoftioe in
1840. The stamps were first, used May
(5, of that year, and were introduced in
1847 into the United States. All civil
ized nations have them.
Comparatively few persons know
how tho White HoUso at Washington
got its name. It was given to it be
cause of its color. The building is con
structed of freestone, and, after tho
British burned the interior in 1814, the
walls were so blackened that when it
was rebuilt it was found necessary to
paint them. Ever since, at intervals of
a few years, the whole structure receives
a fresh coat of white paint. Tho cum
brous title of Executive Mansion was very
naturally dropped for the short and lit
erally descriptive name of White House,
and now only figures in official docu
ments and correspondence.
Loots XIII. was the first French
King to wear a wig. Louis the next in
succession invented the immense full
bottomed wig when he found his own
Jong and thick hair, of which he was
very proud, perishing. It is a note
won by fact that to Ben Franklin tho
death of wig-wearing was due. After
his appearance at the French court in
his own unpowdered hair, it began to bo
fashionable in France not to wear arti
| licinl liair-work, and the mode spread
i gradually, as French modes do, to the
1 rest of the world. The oddest wig on
| record is one made for an English bar
rister, in 1847, out of fine iron wire.
Juggernaut, or “Lord of the World,”
the first object of Hindoo veneration, is
an idol formed of an irregular pyramidal
black stone, with two rich diamonds to
represent eyes. The nose and mouth
are painted Vermillion, and the visage is
frightful. Tho number of pilgrims that
visit the god is stated at 1,200,000 au
nually. Some are crushed by the
wheels of the car, many as late as 1864.
A great many never return, and to the
distance of fifty miles the vay is strewed
with human bones. The temple has ex
isted over 800 years. The state allow
ance to the temple was suspended by
the Indian Government in Jiuie, 1851.
r, '*!•. AIML
THE FAMILY PHYSICIAN.
[ In any complaint where there is much
i perspiration do not go directly from a
cold or frosty air to the bedside.
Graham wafers for the sick : One cup
of Graham flour, one and one-third cups
of boiling water, and one-half teaspoon
fill of salt. Put the salt in the boiling
water, pour the water gradually over
the Graham, beat thoroughly, and set
away to cool. When cool spread on
sheets or pans as thin as the blade of a
knife. Bake in a moderate oven about
twelve minutes. Sick people can eat
this when they can eat no other bread.
A Cure for Night Sweats.—A pow
| der known as slreupulver, composed of
three parts of salicylic acid and ninety
seven parts silicate of magnesia, is used
in Germany as o cure for sweating of
tho feet. Recently a Belgian physician,
Dr. Kohnhom, tried its efficacy in sev
eral cases of night sweating by consump
tives. The beneficial effect was imme
diate and permanent. The powder was
rubbed over the whole body. To pre
vent any breathing of the dust and con
sequent coughing a handkerchief must
be held over the patient’s mouth and
nose while tho powder is being applied.
Medical Use of Eggs. —For burns
and scalds nothing is more soothing
than the white of an egg, which may be
poured over the wound. It is softer as
a varnish for a burn than collodion, and,
being always at hand, can be applied
immediately. It is also more cooling
than the “sweet oil and cotton,” which
was formerly supposed to lie the surest
application to allay the smarting pain.
It is the contact with tho air which
gives the extreme discomfort experi
enced from ordinary accidents of this
kind, and anything which excludes air,
and prevents inflammation,is the thingto
be at once applied. The white of an
egg, into which a piece of alum about,
the size of a walnut has been stewed un
til it forms a jelly, is a fine remedy for
sprains. It should be laid over the
sprain on a piece of lint and changed as
often as it becomes dry.
Children are not apt to believe they
drink too much water, and yet they do.
When you come into the house, panting
and thirsty from play, you will take a
tumbler of water and drink it down as fast
as you can, and then rush out to resume
play, and, perhaps, repeat the drink.
Now, the next time you feel thirsty, try
this experiment: Take a goblet of water
and slowly sip it. Before it is half gone
your thirst will he fully quenched, and
you will feel better for having drunk
only that which you need. And again,
we are all apt to acquire the habit of
drinking while eating our meals. Nature
gives us all the saliva we need ; and if
any one will chew his food slowly and
thoroughly, and not take a swallow of
drink until through eating, the desire to
do so will leave, and he will require only
a few sips of water, tea or coffee after
the meal is finished. This practice, too,
will do wonders in the way of keeping
off indigestion, dyspepsia and sickness.
The True Cure.
There are two ways of dealing with the
evils in the world which we justly deplore
and wish to abolish: one is to attack and
try to break them down forcibly, the
other to dissolve or exhale them by the
active presence of good. The former of
these methods appears so much the
more direct and obvious that it generally
gains the first place in our attention. We
see a wrong, and our impulse is to crush
it; we see injustice, and we long to exter
minate it; wo observe an unrighteous
institution, and we desii'e to overthrow
it. The slower and less direct method of
overcoming evil with good, of substitut
ing a better way for that which is bad,
of devoting the same energy to building
up that which we would have given to
the work of tearing down, obtains a
gradual hold over us only with time and
experience.
“Swans sing before they die.” They
have to if they sing at all.