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B CATES, Editor aad Publisher. tkb*s or suNcunoso 0„e copy oneyea'MTIlv.nce $U» Irani paid in adranoe r the terms are 12.00 a year. A clnb of six allowed aa extra oopy. ri (ly-two nuraberscomplete the volume. WOOT1SH * CATES, Proprietors. WISDOM, JUSTICE AND MODERATION. TEKMS:— *1.50 per year In Adrueo. VOLUME XXII- w NEWNAN, GEOftGIA, TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1887. NUMBER 19. Oootneh one year, *10; a colum oae v - e ar, tlOO; less time than three moutus. Il OO per inch for first Insertion, and 60 -ents additional for each subsequent ln- ^Notices in local column, ten cento per :,'ss r .*s»s?a».a l MSs: "ah trmfsient^vertLementB must b Ac, itrictly in advance. ... Address all communications to AUa A. B-CATEri, Newnan Ga Our lives are albums, written through With good or ill, with false or true. BERTIIINE’S captives. Kothing was to be heard in the forest ow the rustling of the snow falling upon the eiflars as it had been falling since midday, a fine, powdery snow tliat spread n |ion the branches a frozen moss, upon tli. firs a coating of silver and upon the roads and pathways an immense carpet, soft and white, and which intensified the stillness of this 3ea of trees. before the door of a forester’s hut a young woman with her sleeves rolled up to the elbows was cutting weed with an ax ti|>on a stone. Tall, supple and strong, sin- was a true daughter of the forest ami the child and wife of a, forester. Sud denly a voice came from the interior of the house: ■We arc alone this evening, Berthine; eotne in and make everything fast. There may te Prussians as well as wolves in the forest to-night.” The wood chopper responded with a re sounding stroke of the ax. "I have nearly finished, mother,” Bhe said; “besides, there ia no need of fear yet; it is still daylight.” Nevertheless, she brought in her fagots and sticks of wood, ami piling them up in the chimney comer went out again to close up the shed; then re-entering, the room she pushed to the door and locked and bolted it. ller mother, an old and wrinkled woman whom age had made timid and nervous, was seated by the fireside spin ning- • I do not like it, Berthine, said she; “when your father is from home, two women are not strong.” “But I am not afraid,” the girl re sponded; "I ran defend myself from a wolf or a Prussian all the same,” and she glanced significantly at a huge re volver suspended above the chimney piece. ; Berthine’s husband had been in the army ever Rince the Iwginning of the Prussian invasion, and these two women had remained alone with only the old father, Nicholas Piclion. the gamekeeper, ns he was called in the neighborhood, who had obstinately refused to leave his dwelling and seek protection in the city. The city nearest the Pichon hut was Bethel, a quaint and ancient place perched upon a high rock. Filled with patriot ism, the citizens had decided to resist in vaders—to Shut themselves up, and if nec essary sustain a siego such as had taken place in the time of their forefathers—^for twice already the inhabitants of .Bethel, ip- the day's of Henry IV and Louis XIV ,■ had rendered themselves thus illustrious. Purchasing a supply of cannon and guns, equipping a militia, and forming them selves into tettalions and companies, they exercised daily on the Place d'Armes. Bakers, grocers, butchers, notaries, law yers, cabinet makers, librririans and even druggists maneuvered in turn at tho regu lation hour under tho command of M. Lavignc, an ex-officer of dragoons, and to-day, thanks to his having married the daughter and heiress of the shop keeper, Raredan, the richest and most in fluential man in the city. And thus they patiently waited the Prussians, tho Prussians who never came, though twice they had been seen in the forest, in the neighborhood of Pichon’s hut, who had run to warn the city. This house of Nicholas Pichon’s served ns a sort of advance post in the forest of Areline; and twice a week the old man went into the city to purchase provisions mid to carry to the citizens the latest news of the campaign. His errand to Rethel to-day was to an nounce t hat n small detachment of Ger man infantry had halted near his house about 2 o’clock that morning. They did not remain long, nor did he know the di rection they had taken, but all the same, as soon ns they had gone again Piclion called his dogs and started for the city, instructing his wife and daughter to bolt and barricade the house when night should fall, and on no account to open tho door, no matter who might knock. Berthine was afraid of nothing, but the old woman trembled and constantly re peated: “It will end badly—you will see —it will end badly, sure!” and to-night she seemed more unquiet than usual. “Knowest thou at what hour thy fa ther will return?’ ’ she said to her daugh ter. presently, “Not before 11. certainly. When fa ther dines with the major commandant (the title Larigne had conferred upon himself), he never returns till late," and Berthine hung the pot over the fire and prepared to make the soup. All at once she ceased to stir it; she was listening to nn indistinct noise that came down the flue of the chimney. "Some one is walking in the wood,” she said; “seven or eight people at least.” The old woman, frightened to death, stopped her wheel and began to whim per. “MonDieu, Berthine!” she cried; “and thy father is from home!” But Berthine did not reply, for at the moment there was a knock at the door, and a guttural voice demanded admit tance. “Open or I’ll preak te tow," the same voice shouted a little later. Slipping the revolver into her pocket, the young wo man crossed the room and, placing her mouth to tire keyhole, shouted in return: “And who are you?” “A tetachment from tc udder side!” “Well, what do you want?" "Sometings to eat: I haf peon lost since morning in te woods; open or I’ll preak te toor!” Without waitjng for him to put his threat into execution, slie slipped the bolts; the door swung heavily upon its hinges, and 6he saw in the pale, snowy fight of the forest a group of soldiers standing upon the step—the same, in fact, she.Irad seen the evening before. “This is no time’ of night to ask for food,” she continued, in a resolute tone, ” “besides, I am alone in the house, with only my mother.” “Dat" is notting,” replied the officer, who seemed to be a good sort of a fellow, “we shall do you no harm, but we must haf sometings to eat; we fall mil hunger and fatigue.” “Very well, then,” she responded, “enter, and I will see what I can do.” The men appeared, as the officer had said, to be worn out with hunger and fatigue. They had placed their guns and caps in the corner, and now sot about the table watching with the eager looks of half starved animals the preparations for the pot-au-feu which Berthine was en gaged in making. The old mother, every now and that turning a frightened glance pprm fhe invading soldiers, had resumed her spinning, and nothing was heard in the room but -the light whirring of the rolling wheel and the babbling of the water iri the .pot. They ate voraciously, their mouths spread to their widest extent in an effort to swallow the more, and their round eyes opening and shutting with every move ment of their jaws. The noise they made in swallowing sounded like the gurgling of a water pipe. As they were thirsty aa well as hungry, Berthine at last descended to the cellar to draw them some cider. To reach it she was obliged to pass a low vardted chamber or cave, used, so they said, during the revolution as a prison or place of concealment. ’You could only enter it by a narrow stairway leading from .the floor of the kitchen, closed by a heavy door. Berthine was gone a long time to draw the cider, and when she reappeared sho was laughing—laughing softly to herself. Soon the soldiers had finished their supper and were nodding around the table. Every now and then a head would fall upon the boards with a re sounding thud. “You can stretch yourselves by the fire, if you like,” said the forestiere, kindly. ‘ ‘Mother and I will climb to the upper floor.” A moment later a key turned in the lock overhead—there was the sound of footsteps ox the floor, and then—silence. "With their feet to the fire and their headj supported upon their knapsacks, the Prussians were soon snoring loudly. They had dept perhaps an hour, when suddenly there was the report of a gun shot, another and another, loud and near. They leaped to their feet .as the door of tho stairs leading to the upper floor was thrown open and Berthine ap peared, bare footed, half clad and wild with affright. “It is the French/’ she ■ cried, “at 1 •ast a hundred of them! For the love of God, go into the cellar and make no noise; if you do, we are lost!” r “T vill, I vffl,” the officer stammered, bewildered and excited, ‘ 'but how can we get down?" She lifted the trap in the floor, disclos ing the narrow stairs, and the six men quickly disappeared. When the brim of the last liat had vanished from sight, Berthine replaced the oaken flap, as thick as a wall and hard as steel, fastened it with a monstrous bolt and began to laugh again, to laugh like a maniac, as she softly danced above the heads of her prisoners shut up in their box of stone, and as they had promised to be silent as the tomb, knowing that they were per fectly secure and well. supplied with air through a vent in the wall guarded by a strong iron grating, she gave herself no further concern regarding them, but set about replenishing the fire and the pot of soup in readiness for her father’s re turn. It wa6 not long, however, before she heard them stirring under her feet and the sound of talking. Berthine listened; it was clear that the Prussians were tegin- ning to suspect the ruse and would soon demand release. She was not mistaken, fqc a moment later some one stumbled up the winding stairs and began to beat upon the trap with his fists. ‘ ‘Open te toor; opon it, I say!” shouted the voice of the officer, “or I’ll preak it in!” “Preak it in, my good man,” Berthine answered tauntingly, mimicking his broken accent; “proak it in, by all means!” But the effort was useless; then- fists, the butt ends of their muskets and all tlieir kirks apd poundings were pow erless to release them; that door was stout enough to have defied a catapult. Con vinced of this at last, they again descended and once more all was silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the mantel shelf. As the hands pointed to the midnight hour a distant haying was heard in tho forest and the young woman arose and opened the door. The figures of a man and the two enormous dogs were approaching ncrops tho snow. “Do not pass lief ore the vent hole, father,” said she, as soon as he was near enough to hear her; "there are Prussians in the cellar. ” “Prussians in the cellar!" Nicholas Pichon replied astounded. “Prussians in the cellar! What are they doing in the cellar, child? Tell me. quick!” “They are the same you saw yester day," she responded. “JUcy were in the forest ami are in tho cellar now be cause I put them there.” and she pro ceeds to tell him how she had frightened them by firing off the old revolver and then, through fear, caged them in the unused prison hole. “As soon as you have eaten, father.’ she continued, “you must return and bring tbe major commandant and the troops; he will be very happy to receive tlx: prisoners. ” The old man agreed, and taking his seat at the table eagerly consumed his soup while Berthine attended to the dogs, and twenty minutes from the time of their arrival they were on their way back to Rethel, the forestiere waiting alone. The prisoners had onee more com menced their uproar, cursing,, shouting and beating their guns against the walls of the prison hole. At last they began to fire through the grating, doubtless hoping to attract tbe attention of some passing detachment which might chance to lie in the neighborhood. Berthine paid no at tention to the noise, however, save to caution her mother to remain in her chamber; but a wicked anger took pos session of her mul she would cheerfully have murdered them, if only to keep them quiet. Her father had now been gone an hour and a half. Surely he bad reached the citv and the troops were on the way. She pictured to herself the air of pride with which he related the affair to the commandant, all fire and excitement as lie called for his sword and uniform. She even fancied tliat she heard the drums as they rolled through the streets, calling the citizens to the cold and bitter march in the snow. Surely another hour would see them here, the prisoners taken and the troops triumphantly returning to the city. But how long it seemed; how the hours dragged, and the hands of the clock fairly crawled around the dial! Nevertheless, the moment for their return came at last. Berthine got up from her seat and threw open the door. Out upon the white car pet of the forest a dark object was stealth- ilv crawling towards her. She was alarmed and called out: ‘'Father, is it thou?" “Yes, I,” he returned: “I am sent in advance to see if anything has changed since my departure.” “No,” she responded, “all is the same. Pichon, placing a whistle to his Ups, sent forth into the night a long, shrill blast, and soon, in the mist rising beneath the trees, Berthine saw the figures of a band of men, the advance guard of the arriving troops. . “But don't pass before tbe vent hole! Pichon shouted, as the men appeared; and “Don’t pass before the vent hole!” solemnly repea ten me soiaiers to maee behind. Soon the whole troop was visi ble. to the young woman, a hundred strong, each man carrying in his belt 200 cartridges, and led by Lavigne himself. Placing his men in a line around the' house, with a liberal space before the hole leading to the cellar, the major com mandant valiantly entered the house to inform himself as to the strength and at titude of the enemy, now so quiet that it seemed as if they had flown. Pounding heavily upon the door above the pris oners’ heads he called aloud: “M. Officer—M. Prussian Officer—I wish to speak to you.” The German did not reply. “ ’Tis funny,” said Lavigne to himself, “very funny,” pounding again and receiving no response. For twenty minutes more he continued to call upon them—to knock and pound and summon them to surrender, but without the slight est sign from the enemy of either consent or hostility. In the meantime the soldiers cooled their heels in the snow outside, faithfully guarding the vent hole, slapping their hands to keep them from freezing, and with a childish but . constantly increasing desire to cross before it simply because forbidden to do it. Suddenly one of them, bolder than the rest, and who ran like a deer, made the attempt. It was successful; the impris oned Prussians seemed as if dead. Em boldened by their comrade, another and another followed in his steps. It had become a game, or a race for life in which the devil could take the hindmost. They had lighted a tremendous fire to keep themselves from freezing, and the ruddy glare of the flame fell full upon the laughing faces of those prankish guards as they voyaged rapidly from left to right and from right to left again. All at once some one called out: “Matheson, it is now your turn; come, hurry, my boy; hurry up!” Now, I must tell you that Matheson was the baker of Rether, an enormously fat man, whose inflated Rtomach, big as an ordinary balloon, furnished unending merriment for his frolicsome comrades, i He hesitated and tried to draw out of the race, but they jeered and mocked him till he, too, started, breathless, and with little mincing steps that shook his paunch like jelly, across the intervening space. The whole detachment laughed until they cried, shouting and urging him on with a storm of bravas and encouraging words. Half way across the open space a large red flame darted from the vent hole, a sharp detonation followed, and the big Rether baker fell upon his nore, with a Kill in his thigh. As no one rushed to succor him he dragged himself on his hands and knees until out of reach of the balls, then quietly fainted away, more from fright than pain of the wound, for the ball had scarcely more than ploughed tho flesh below the thigh bone. At the sound of the musket shot the major com mandant rushed from the house. “Tinsmiths!” he roared, “tinsmiths, come forward!” A man, followed by two others, stepped from the ranks and stood before the commandant. “Take the gutters from the house,” said he, “and bring them here.” A few monients later twenty metres of water pipe lay at his feet. Then, with a thousand precautions, a hole was chopped in the comer of the trap door, the end of the pipe inserted and the other end fastened to the spout of the pump. “The Prussians can stand a great deal,” cried M. Lavigne with a teaming smile, ‘ ‘but it remains to te seen if they can stand the drink we shall give them. Pump, my boys, pump with a will,” and with a wild hurrah the men obeyed. Soon a silvery stream of water flowed along the tubing and fell to the cellar be low with the murmuring of a summer cascade. Hour after hour ran by, and still the water fell, and still the enemy held-the ground, though every now and then a stamping of feet and curses loud a lid deep came from the depths below. About 8 o'clock in the morning a voice suddenly came from the cellar calling for the commandant. “I visli to speak mit him at vonce." “Do you surrender?” shouted I-avigne, tending to the floor. “If 60, pass up your arms. ” A hand come out of the bole and a musket fell at his feet; another and another, until finally a voice cried: “We haf no more, make haste and stop te pump; we trown mit vater.” The commandant had the pump stopped, and the soldiers, crowding about the trap as the bolts were withdrawn, -watched tbe Germans Ascend, six white heads with water soaked hair and a half drowned stare in their pale blue eyes. As they feared to be surprised the Rethelites did not linger, but started for the city, one half of the column bearing between them the shivering prisoners, the other half bearing Matheson ex tended upon a mattress supported by poles. For the bravery and gallantry with which M. Lavigne had captured “the advance guard of the Prussian army,” as Rethel (tapers- quoted it, he was dec orated with tire cross of honor, while Matheson received a medal. For Berth ine nothing could te done; she was only a woman, ami it was impossible to adorn her as a warrior.—Translated from the French of Guy de Maupassant for New York Mercury. GLUTTONS OF BYGONE DAYS. The Honey Bee's Sting. Naturalist Clark, of Canada, says the tee's sting is by no means made for stinging only, but is used in doing tbe artistic work, capping the comb and in fusing the formic acid, by means of which honey receives its keeping quali ties. The sting is really a skillfully con trived little trowel, with which the tee finishes off and caps the cells when they are filled brimful of honey. This ex plains why honey extrasted before it is capped over does not keep well. The formic acid has not been injected into it. —New Y'ork Sun. The Bible in Khyme. A Madrid scholar. Senor Carulla, who has been for many real's at work on a rhymed version of the Bible, lias just completed his task. The work contains 200,000 verses. Some Distinguished Cans of Tramandaw Appetite* from the Becorde. Elizabeth Charlotte, the Duchess of Or leans, writing under date of Dec. 5, 1718, says: “The late king, monsieur the dauphin, and the Due de Bexxi were enormous eaters. I have often seen the king eat four plates of different kinds of soup, a whole .pheasant, a partridge, a dish of salad, two thick dices of ham, mutton flavored with garlic, a plateful of pastry and finish his repast with fruit and hard boiled eggs.” There was a good old German from Wittemberg. where my Lord Hamlet attended the university, who had a fine faculty far storing away provender. His case is well attested. For a wager he would eat a whole sheep or a whole pig or put out of sigh! a bushel of cherries, stones and all. He lived until he was about 80 years of age, a great portion of the time supporting him self by exhibiting the peculiarity of his appetite, which, to sav the least, must have been a very eccentric one. Thus, he would chew glass, earthenware and flint into small fragments. He had an especial preference for caterpillars, mice and birds, and when these were not pro curable he would content himself with mineral substances. Once he put down his “maw and gulf” a pen, the ink and the sand pounce and he would have gob bled the inkstand, too, had he not been restrained. Taylor, the water poet, tells of Nicholas Wood, of the county of Kent, in England, who was a tolerably good trencherman. On one occasion he got away with a whole sheep; at another time with sev eral rabbits; at a third with three dozen pigeons—well grown pigeons, not squabs; again with eighteen yards of black pud dings, and on other occasions 60 pounds of cherries and three pecks of damsons. Dr. Copland, in speaking of two children who had wonderful appetites, the young est, 7 years old, being the worst, said: “The quantity of food devoured by her was astonishing. Everything that could te laid hold of, even in its raw state, was seized upon most greedily. Other articles, an uncooked rabbit, half a pound of candles and some butter, were taken at one time. The mother stated that this little ■ girl, who was apparently in good health otherwise, took more food, if she could possibly obtain it, than the rest of her family, consisting of six beside her self. A trifle over a hundred years ago a London youth ate five pounds of shoul der of lamb and two quarts of green peas in fifty minutes; and a Polish soldier, who was presented at the court of Sax ony, succeeded in one day in getting out side of twenty pounds of beef and half a roast calf, with the appropriate “fixings.” AVhen George HI was king, a watch maker's apprentice, 19 years of age, in three-quarters of an hour devoured a leg of pork weighing six pounds and a pro portionate quantity of pease pudding, washing all down with a pint of brandy, taken in two “tots. ’ ’ The tall Nick Davenport, the actor, is known to have eaten a seven pound turkey at a single sitting. Instances of depraved appetite are numerous, and men have been known to swallow fire, swords, spiders, flies, toads, serpents, cotton, hair, paper, wood, cinders, sand, earth, clay, chalk, flint, musket balls and earthen ware. One man could swallow billiard balls and gold watches. In the New York medical journals for 1822 a record is made of a man who could swallow clasp knives with impu nity. One day he overdid the business by swallowing fourteen and it killed him, which well it might. In 1870, in Eng land. two men of Wiltshire wagered with each other as to which could consume the greatest quantity of food in the shortest space of time. One of them blotted from existence six pounds and a' half of rabbit, a loaf of bread and two pounds of cheese in a quarter of an hour, and he was so pleased with the approbation he received from the bystanders that he finished off with a beefsteak, a pint and a half of gin and a half pint of brandy.—Good House keeping. The Railway Postal Clerk. Now the train starts. The postal clerk has teen pulling heavy pouches aronnd or throwing letters into the boxes for half an hour, and if he is unused to the work his muscles begin to feel tired. But he must not quit or take rest, even for a moment, because his labor has just begun. He must brace himself up and enter upon a desperate game of follow my leader—the leader being a man who has been in the service for years and has worked himself up from an apprentice to the high and mighty office of chief clerk in charge of the car, whose power is for the time as absolute as that of the czar of all the Russias. As the train dashes along all these clerks must continue their work, now made 100 per cent, harder by the swaying of the car. They must brace themselves first one way and then another, always keeping up that cease less throw, throw, throw, not for one hour or two, but for eight or ten hours, taking on additional pouches as the train flies through the country at a breakneck speed, and throwing off other pouches as the stations are passed, all the while in a state of uncertainty as to whether the pouch knocked out the small boy stand ing on the station platform, or landed in the middle of the cornfield near by. The train does not stop at any but im portant to . ns. and the postal clerks must take chances on the pouch they throw off to the rural postmaster striking the ground anywhere within a quarter of a mile of him. By the time the clerk has got to the end of his run. the place being Chicago. St. Louis, Pittsburg, Grafton, Cleveland, as the case may te. and hav ing teen kept in a violent motion, legs, arms and mind, all the time, it is only reasonable to suppose that he feels tired, and he does.—Cincinnati Times-Star. * An Old Cypress Tree. The oldest tree on record in Europe is asserted to te the cypress of Somma. in Lombardy. Italy. This tree is believed to have teen in existence at the time of Julius Caesar, forty-two years before Christ, and is therefore 1,911 years old. It is 10C feet in height and 20 feet in circumference at one foot from the ground. Napoleon, when laying down his plan for the great road over the Sim- plom, diverged from a straight line to avoid injuring this tree. Superior an tiquity is claimed for the immense tree in Calaveras county, Cal. This is sup posed, from the number of concentric circles in the trunk, to be 2,565 years old.—Chicago Tribuna CHANGELESS. When from the woodland still end lone. Through the long summer night, ted Philomel's impassioned tone Thrills with lore's deep delight; When, steep'd in balmiest breath of June, The earth eeems half divine. No change know I in words or time. Bat ring, “Wllvthoirbe mine?" When autnmn's red and autumn's gold Paint wood and wnid and hill; Whan winter nights grow drear and cold. Lorn, I am changeless stilL Tboagh violets wither, roses fade. Love's calendar and mine Bark siriwner still in sun and shade, And tffll my heart is thine! . Another Word Needed. The government ought to offer a re ward far anybody who will invent a word that will pleasantly, picturesquely, agree ably define a happy evening among friends. “Social” is one of the mo6t horrible words in the language, used as a noun. “Party” means anything or nothing. It is absolutely nnexpreesive. “A good time” comes in for a big drunk, or a picnic, or a funeral, even, for there are people who enjoy, really enjoy, fune- ■rals. “A dinner party" seems to stop with the eating. Now if there is a time when people are unsociable, it Is at a Mg dinner party. If you are fond of eating, conversation’s a nuisance, and you can’t get up' any reasonable discus sion that will not be broken by the courses. You’ve either to devote yourself to the menu or to your neighbor. If she's pretty, you don’t eat your dinner; if the dinner’s good it requires a perfect self abnegation to pay any attention to her. A dinner party is neither one thing nor the other. But after dinner! Well, that’s different. “Soiree” is an abominable word. The mm that coined it should have been killed. Now, what can you call a happy, merry evening? You can’t call it anything short and nice and pleas ant. People talk about “spending the evening” just as if they had to put in the time somehow, and that was all they wanted to do. “Calling” suggests a straightbacked chair, your hat in your hand and the hostess in discomfort, wish ing you'd go. And there’s only one word in the English language that means comfort, and peace, and happiness, and enjoyment, and that word is “Home.”— San Francisco Chronicle “Undertones.” “Oil Paintings" by the Wholesale. A Broadway auction firm which sup plies half the fakirs and peddlers of the country with goods offers oil paintings in gilt frames at $13.75 per dozen. The manufacSire of these cheap paintings has grown to enormous dimensions during the past ten years in this city, and there are already three large concerns turning them out by the wholesale. A man on the east side of town conducts a little business of his own, and can produce seventy-two complete paintings in week. He was found in the loft of tobacco factory, engaged on an enormous canvas on*a stretcher. This canvas was subdivided into a number of squares, each representing a painting. He used a series of stencil plates to give the pictures the outlines, and then rapidly dashed on some finishing touches here and there with a brush and some bright paint. AVhen the pictures are finished they are cut oat and mounted, and find a ready sale among that class of salesmen who frequent fairs anil travel from town to ' ’town with their wares. - > P - Woman’s Work in Early Times. Prior to the American revolution every colonial farm house and every black smith’s shop was a manufactory. For everything was literally manufactured; that is, made by hand. The blacksmith hammered out axes, hoes, spades, plow- shears, scythes and nails. A tailoress went from house to house to make up the winter clothing, and was followed by the shoemaker. The fanner prepared the leather from skins which had laid in the vat for a year, and his wife made ready the cloth. Spinning wheels buzzed from morning tiil night. Skeins of woolen and linen yarn hung on the walls of every house. Seated on the loom seat, the best woman of the family plied shut tles and treadles, weaving blankets, sheets, table cloths, towels, ted curtains, window curtains, flannels and cloth for garments. Every woman in the house hold manufactured something. The aged grandmother spun flax with the little wheel; the youngest daughter carded wool, and the oldest, if the men were busy, hatcheled flax. It was hand work that did it, and every hand did what it could test do. The women, whose ‘ ‘work was never done, ’’not only carded, spun and wove, but they milked the cows, made butter, bread and cheese, soap and candles, cooked the food, did the wash ing, and in harvest raked hay, pulled flax and dug potatoes. The neighbor who happened in for an afternoon’s gos sip brought her work. The mother patched or knitted as she rested by the fireside, or quartered apples for the children to “string” and hang in the morning in festoons on the sunny out side walls. All were busy, always busy. —Youth’s Companion. Aims Tsdema'i Dwelling. Mr. Alma Tadema, most versatile of artists, has added one more world to those he has already conquered. He has become his own architect, and M. Tissot’s house m St John’s wood, which was considered a gem in its way when the French artist lived in it has teen trans formed inside and out into something quite marvelous to behold. In the ex terior are bits of nearly all the styles of all the ages, from the classic romantic down to the latest Nineteenth century development of art, or eccentric fashion and fancy. Inside, the medley is still more be wildering, 'but always harmonious. Mr. Tadema was resolved that every nook and comer of his new home should have its picture, and each picture unlike its fellow. One vista suggests Greece, an other Rome, a third the gorgeous and mysterious east. The room designed for the special use of the artist’s wife will be one of the prettiest interiors in London. His own studio will also be unique in arrangement and decoration, and his friends are already looking forward to the enjoyment of his hospitality amid surroundings that will enhance, if pos sible, its well known grace and charm.—. London AVorld. A Dress of Ancient Days. From the most authentic authorities we learn that there was but little, if any, effort made to fit the garments to the body 450 years before Christ, and the chief and indispensable article of wear was called the “chiton,” a linen bag-like affair, made in one piece and open at the top and bottom. It reached from the neck to the feet, and was so wide that the arms might be extended without dis comfort. This particular style must have teen all the rage, as we say nowadays, for the richer class likewise wore the chiton, but it was composed of silk in stead of linen, and another similar cos tume called the “Himation.” which was composed of some sort of woolen stuff.— Brooklyn Citizen. A VERY REMARKABLE FIGHT. The French Presiden’t Salary. M. Grevv receives as president of the French republic a yearly salary of $240,- 000, besides the following allowances: $20,000 for heating and lighting, servants and washing, $60,000 for his entertain ments and journeys and $25,000 for the maintenance of his game preserves. El Shifaa (The Cure) is the title of the only medical journal published in Egypt. It is printed in Arabic. Mr. w. L). Howells, in commenting on Dickens’ Christmas stories, says that in this later day their “pathos appears false and strained; the humor largely horse play; the character theatrical; the jovi ality pumped; the psychology common place; the sociology alone funny.” Four Elephants Against One Man—A Showman's Daring—Th© Hot Iron. “AATiile traveling through the country with Bamuin in 1881. ” said a veteran showman, “I witnessed one of the most remarkable fights on record. Four ele phants against one man, and in the water, too. In July nr August, 1881. our show struck the pleasant little city of Ottawa. Bis. You are, doubtless, aware tliat ele phants are extremely fond of bathing. For some little time,before coming to Ottawa they had been deprived of that pleasure. No sooner were they unload ed from the train, however, than their sharp little eyes caught sight of the river and the news was trumpeted about in elephant language from one to the other. They were very restive all day and be trayed great anxiety to bathe, and as soon as the afternoon performance was over the under keepers marched them to the river bank. I assure you many seconds did not elapse before the whole herd, twenty-three in number, were splashing and dashing in the water like a lot of school boys. Such a strange sight natur ally attracted the attention of the towns people and the farmers who, with their families, had driven in to see the show, and I doubt very much whether the river at Ottawa ever presented such an ani mated appearance as on that day, “After a while the keepers shouted ‘Mile up, ’ which in elephant phraseology means fall in. Nineteen immediately swam to shore, but no amount of shout ing could induce the other four to return. Men were sent with rocks to the bridge and the entire circus force swarmed along both river banks trying with stones to turn the huge beasts in the direction of the canvas, but all in vain. As a last re source the chief trainer, George Arting- stall, was sent for. The poor fellow had teen sick in ted for over a week with malaria, but on learning of the difficulty immediately dressed himself and came to the bank. Calling each elephant by name he erdered them to ‘Mile up. ’ For a moment it looked as though liis com mand would be obeyed, for the elephants, recognizing his voice, halted and seemed to waver in their course. Albert, the oldestand biggest, however, settled the matter by uttering a loud snort of defi ance, and led by him they once more started up stream. Seeing at a glance that he could do nothing on shore, Mr. Artingstall made for the dressing room tent, from which he soon emerged dressed in tumbler’s tights, and, placing the ele phant prod or fork between liis teeth, boldly swam out to the elephants. “Used as we were to strange sights we yet almost held our breath at this daring act. AVhen within a few yards of them Artingstall again shouted ‘mile up,’ but without effect. Then, seeming to lose liis temper, he sprang upon the back of the nearest one and commenced using his fork for all he was worth. Pretty soon a cry of rage came from the ani mal, upon which the trainer jumped from that one to another, repeating the fork performance until, after at least ten minutes of fierce fighting and jumping, the elephants creed peccavi and swam tremblingly to the shore. Once there the keepers soon had them under sujection, but Artingdale, who had displayed such intrepidity and courage, sank into a dead faint the moment he touched the shore. AVell, I can’t exactly say, but certainly tbe menagerie tent smelt of burnt ele phant for at least two weeks after wards.’’—Chicago Tribune. The Aristocracy of Vienna. No aristocracy of the world is so ex clusive as that of Vienna. It seems to have inherited the appalling loneliness and isolation of the Hapsburgs. The English nobility admit ordinary mortals to their presence if their character or in tellectual ability entitles them to a cer tain distinction. It is so also in Ger many and elsewhere, where a titled aris tocracy exists. It is not so in Vienna. Here nothing but the bluest of blue blood entitles him in whose veins tliat precious fluid flows to mingle with the real liaut ton. Official position amounts to nothing. A foreign embassador may be the most eminent of savants, skilled in literature, rich, socially accomplished, but he is destined, though he passes many years at Vienna, never to see the interior of a salon of an Austrian nobleman, unless with a ticket of entrance when the family are from home. In the eyes of this class, to be a republican, a simple citizen of the United States, representing the government at Washington at the Aus trian court, is to be an humble personage indeed. But what would become of the greater part of these exclusives without tliis adventitious distinction of birth? They would te the merest nobodies. As an aggrieved person remarked to me: “It is all they have.”—Vienna Cor. San Francisco Chronicle. Cancer a Local Disease. Cancer is essentially a local disease and can te cured by operation, in spite of re currence. Operation, when it does not cure prolongs life and diminishes the total amount of suffering. Operations should be repeated as often as there is any chance of entirely removing recur rent growths. The earlier and the more thoroughly the operation is performed the tetter. The disease, when it recurs, is generally of a milder type than that of the original growth, less painful and less exhausting. Antiseptic surgery makes more radical operations possible, with bet ter ultimate results than formerly ob tained.—Dr. Shradv in Medical Reeord. Ifliotograplilnjf a Midnight Landscape. The fact has been satisfactorily estab lished by various scientific researches, that many substances absorb luminous rays during the day, and at night emit these rays in such a manner as to im press photographic plates, although they may not te jierceptibie to the naked eye. Artists have not only succeeded in photo graphing the visible night phosphor escence of Mont Blanc's summit, but have even secured an impression of a midnight landscape—invisible to the eye —on the terrace of the observatory at I'rague.—New York Sun. Learning* TFithout Study. The acquisition of learning without study is like the acquisition of wealth without labor. It is as necessary for the mechanic to study out liis problem when it comes io him to be studied as it iF for him to finish liis task by his handicraft. —Scientific American. alienee Th«t vrmM GtmX “It was so still in the hall, ” said Dob bins, speaking of the concert, “that you could have heard a pin drop.” “AVas there a large audience?” asked Peterby. "The house was half full.” “Is that all? Hum! you ought to hear the silence t here when there is a full house. Oh, it’s something grand!”—lid Bits. STILSON, JEWELEB, 55 Whitehall treet, Atlanta, Ga. 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