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LADIES’ COLUMN. Tiny Turtles as Pets. I must not forgot to tell Chicagoladies of the latest caprice in the wny of pets, writes a New York correspondent. Os course you have gone through the mania for dogs of various kinds, from the pug to the sheared French poodle, the most ridiculous and clever pet dog of them all, and doubtless you have had your fling at tortoise shells and monkeys. It remains for Mrs. Van Rensselaer Cruger, one of the leaders in society and one of the most fashionable women of the elite, to set the gossips by the ears by the adoption of a pct is, in plain Eng ish. nothing more nor less Mian a tiny mud turtle. This is an actual fact, and, moreover, the turtle has been christened “Ni chettc,” and is dressed every day in lit tle silk frocks and lace fichus. Like Miss Marion Langdon it affects pink, and is usually attired in couleur de rose. The proper thing to do nowadays, if one wishes to ingratiate one’s self in Mrs. Cruger’s favor, is to leave a card always for Nichette as well as her mistress. Mrs. Cruger has furthermore astonished so ciety by appearing at the opera once or twice with her newly adopted plaything. Nichette also attended the Patriarchs’ ball, and, I believe, is to go out generally next season at. Newport. A Chinese <Url'« *»pccch. Miss Hu King Eng, a young Chinese girl, made a rather unique speech at a recent meeting of the Ladies’ Foreign Mission society, in Cincinnati. Here is an almost verbatim report of it: "Ladies -I came to America last May. Don’t learn much English and hope ex cuse breaking their language. Last Sep tember came to Delaware (Ohio) school (Wesleyan university) and learn a few words. In America arc many girls and boys going to school, very much study ing books, but in my China I can’t find one school for girls. Plenty schools for boys,so that boys may learn many things. Their mothers think boys study books hope some day make officers. Girls, their mothers think, study no use. In my China so many girls not like here. Hero girls can go down street and buy many pretty things by themselves, but in my China always stay at home. Mothers teach their children to pray idols; here, in America, boys and girls pray one God. In my China are many idols, some very tall, some very little, some very not pretty: some made of silver, gold, stone, but many kinds. They think idols can help them, so pray to idols all time. If I want this, J pray this one: if 1 want that, I pray that one. This one (exhibiting a small image) is called a God of .Mercy, in my China. Mothers teach their children to pray to this idol until sixteen years old; then pray to others. "In my China they don’t know they have no spirit in this idol. I taught little school for little girls in my China and talked to them about Jesus. After a while I wanted to study medicine, so I came to Delaware college. 1 know God will help me. I can do without God nothing. I ho;>e you all pray for me. so I may learn right fast, and then I go back to my China, to my dark land.”— Cincinnati Enquirer. Fashion Xorcs. Shirt-drapery is much higher than last season, and a decided tendency to full paniers is shown. Jetted laces will still be worn on black summer wraps, and beading of all kinds is as popular as ever. Fancy bonnets are made of tinsel and novelty fabrics of various kinds over frames of wires and lace net. Pongee dress suits are elegantly em broider'd in silk of a color to match the goods or in a oretty contrasting shade. New silk jer-i ys are beautifully beaded with jet in various designs, and some times in patterns covering the whole garment. Some of the new cashmere gloves have the long wrists embroidered in chain stitch on the closed tops with silk of a pale shade. A dainty little lace pin is a spray of fine leaves and a stem of diamonds, the flowers being tiny forge: me note in frosted gold. Colored silk linings are placed in bro cade wraps and as they are visible in the wide sleeves, add a pretty and be coming touch of bright color. Esenrial lace, a net with jet pendants scattered over the design, is one of the' leading fabrics for combining with black or colored silk dresses or satin. For very light dresses for summer evenings the nun’s railings have the bayadere stripes of white or silver or gilt, to be made up with plain white vailing. At all times kindness is better than 11-nature and courtesy is a nobler thing than disrespect. Nothing can be much more foolish than to go out of our way to make enemies for -the mere sake of making them, when a very little pa tience, forbearance and self-restraint would have given us instead a helper, a friend, a panegyrist and a backer. Nothing is easier than fault-finding. No talent, no self denial, no brains, no character is required to set up in the grumbling business. But those who are moved by a genuine desire to do good and benefit their fellows have little time x for murmuring or complaint. At the end of 1884 there are 285,000 miles of railway in the world, which would make a line from the earth to the moon, with 35,000 miles to spare. CBlje (LSijctte. VOL. XII. Love Better than Fame. ‘l*ll win a name,” .the warrior cried, “To crown the maiden of my heart! Her eyes will flash with loyal pride When forth upon my quest I start.” The lady watched, with undimmed ey<\ The soldier ride upon his way, Nor sobbinq moan nor tender sigh Enticed his stay. And yet she pined from hour to hour. “Twas love, not fame, I craved,” she said. “Ho little knows love’s mystic power.” And lower still sho drooped her head, she days and months sped swiftly past; 'Die warrior’s brow was wreathed with fame. And homo be rodo. "'Tis mine at hist— An honored name.” He met her in her father’s hall, And knelt to kiss her slender hand. "Lol at thy feet I iay them all Love, honor, fame!” She hade him stand. “Thy love was all I craved,” she said. "With that my heart was all content!” And ou his breast she laid her head, Her sorrow spent. —Ethel May. BERTHINE’S RUSE. There was scarcely a sound in the forest as the snow fell upon the trees, a fine snow that made their branches appear as if covered with an icy moss. Before the door of a house a young woman was chopping wood. She was tall, and, though slender, was strong. She was a child of the forest. A voice was heard coming from the house:—“Berthine, you should come in soon, for there are Prussians and wolves roaming about.” Berthine replied, as she split a block of wood with a powerful stroke, “1 have finished, mother. lam coming. lam coming. It is still light,” Then she carried in the wood, went out again to fasten the oaken doors of the shed, and again entered the house, fastening the large bolts of the door. Her mother, an old woman whom age had rendered timorous, sat near the lire spinning. “I like it not," she said, "when the father is away. Here we are, two de fenceless women.” “Ah!” replied her daughter, as she glanced toward a large revolver sus pended over the fireplace, "I can easily kill a wolf or a Prussian—it is all the sune.” Berthfne’s husband had joined the army at the beginning of the Prussian invasion, and she lived with her moth er and father, the old forester, Nicho las Pichon, who had obstinately refused to quit his woodland dwelling for the town. The nearest town was Rethel, an an cient stronghold perched upon a rock. The inhabitants were patriots and had decided to resist the invaders. They had procured cannons and muskets and equipped a militia. The soldiers were drilled daily by M. Lavigne, the haberdasher, who was an ex-officer of dragoons. Tims they awaited the arrival of the Prussians, but the Prussians did not appear. They were not far off, how ever, for twice already their scouts had pushed through the wood as far as the house of Nicholas Pichon, which was the outpost in the forest of Ave line. Twice each week Pichon went to town for provisions and informed the citizens of whatever had occurred in his neighborhood. He had gone to town this very morning to announce that two days before a small detach ment of German infantry had halted at his place for about two hours and then departed. The officer who com manded them spoke French. That, evening, when Berthine was about to put the pot on the fire to make the soup, two violent knocks were heard at the door. As the women made no reply a loud, guttural voice s id, “Open the door!" Then, after a brief silence, the same voice continued, "Open the door or we will break it in.” Berthine took down the revolver from above the fireplace and slipped it into her pocket. Then she said, “Who are you ?” The same voice replied, “The detach ment of soldiers who were here the other day.” “What do you want?” said the young woman. “We have been lost in the wood since morning. Open the door or we will break it in!” B rthine had no choice. She quick ly drew the large bolts, and opening the door saw before her six men— six Prussian soldiers, the same who had stopped there two days before. “Why do you come here at this hour?" she said in a resolute tone. “We are lost,” replied the officer. “We recognized your house. We have had nothing to eat since morning.” “Come in,” said Berthine, as she stood aside to let them pass. They entered tl.e bouse. They were covered with snow and appeared to be completely exhausted. The young woman pointed to the wooden benches at either side of the large table, saying. “Sit down. I will make soun for you.” SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY EVENING. JULY 15,1885. When the soup was prepared tho Prussians ate voraciously. As they were thirsty, Berthine descended into the cellar to draw cider for them. She remained there a long time. The cel lar was a little vaulted cave, which, it was said, had served during the revo lution both as a prison and a hiding place. It was reached by a narrow winding stairway, to which access was gained through a trap in the centre of the kitchen. When Berthine reappeared she wore a cunning smile. She gave the jug of cider to the Prussians. When the soldiers had finished eat ing they lay down to sleep about the table. They stretched themselves ou the floor with their feet toward the fire, their heads supported by their cloaks rolled up for pillows, and soon they were snoring in six different tones. They had slept soma time, when suddenly firing was heard without,and so plainly that it seemed to be directed against the walls of the house, The soldiers rose at once. Two more re ’ ports were heard, followed presently ’ by three others. 1 ; Berthine appeared. She was appa rently frightened. Iler feet were bare, * sho wore a short skirt and carried a 1 candle in her hand. ’ j “Tho French are coming!” sho ex-1 claimed. “There are at least two hun- 1 dred of them. If they find you here 1 they will burn the house. Go into the 1 cellar quickly and make no noise If you make a sound we are lost. The officer, thoroughly frightened, 1 ’ said in a low tone, “Wo will; we will. How shall we descend ?” The young woman quickly opened the trap door and tho six men disap- 1 peered, one after another, down the * little winding stair. When the point of the last helmet 1 had disappeared Berthine lowered the 1 heavy oaken plank, thick asa wall and hard as steel, which was held in place by hinges and a lock, and, turning the key in the lock, began to laugh. It was ( a low, hysterical laugh. Then she suddenly evinced an irresistible desire dancj over tho heads of her prison ’ ers. | Soon, however, she heard murmur ings under her feet. The prisoners s had divined the ruse, and presently 1 ■ the officer mounted the little stair and began to pound the trap door with his ’ ! fist. Again he cried, “Open the door!” 1 . : “What do you want?” she asked. 3 I “Open the door.” “I will not.” ' I The man became angry, and ex ' claimed, “Open the door, or I will 1 break it in.” Then she began to laugh, saying, 3 “Break it, my good man; break it,” ’ j and he began to knock with the butt 3 i end of his musket against the door of f ° : oak closed above his head, but it re sisted the force of his blows. 3 The young woman went to the outer door of the house, and, opening it, looked out into the night and listened. 3 A distant sound fell upon her ear. Then she cried with all her might:— 1 “Ho, father!” “Ho, Berthine!” a voice replied. i i 1 Presently the large shadow o a man appeared where the moonlight fell be tween two trees. “I have the Prussians in the cellar,” said the young woman. “Prussians in the cellar? What Prussians? How did they come there?” Berthinesaid, laughing:—“They are those who were here the other day. They were lost in the forest, and I am keeping them cool in '■« cellar.” ’ ! Then she related the adventure, how ’ ■ she had frightened them with the re port of the revolver, and had fastened 1 them in the cellar. ' : “Well, what would you have me do at this hour?” asked the old man. “Go and fetch M. Lavigne and his troops. He will make them prisoners, and will be glad to do it.” “Yes, he will be glad,” said Father ' Pichon, with a smile, as he departed. For a long time Berthine remained : alone, with her eyes fixed on the ; 3 clock. From time to time the Prus-' sians were heard battering away at ‘ the trap door with their muskets. At i length, thinking it time for the troops , to arrive. Berthine opened the doorj 1 and listened. Soon she saw shadows i moving in the forest. They were the shadows of M. Lavigne’s men. There 1 were 200 of them, and each carried 200 I i cartridges. M. Lavigne arranged his troops so ( as to surround the house. Then he j entered the dwelling and informed I himself of the force and position of the enemy. M. Lavigne stamped on the trap door, calling to the Prussian officer. : The latter made no reply. Again M. Lavigne called, but in vain. After a [ * lapse of twenty minutes he summoned ; i the officer to surrender, promisingthat i the lives of himself and his men should ' be spared and that they should receive i good treatment. There was no sign I of capitulation. Then the cm mand ant arranged his plan of attack. “Let Planchut rnd his men come I here,” he said. Planchut, who. was a zinc worker, and two of his assistants approached. “Tear down tho gutters and the j waterspout from the roof.” In a quarter of an hour fully fifty feet of these wooden gutter*, wera | brought. Then he had a little hole made at the edge of the trap door and formed a conduit from the pump to this opening. “Now we will give these Prussians something to drink,” he said. Then he ordered a number of men to the pump, who relieved each other every five minutes. A stream of water glided through tho conduit and fell into the cellar. The work of ■ pumping was continued for three hours, the commandant in the mean time marching up and down the kitch en, wondering why tho men did not capitulate. About eight o’clock In the morning a voice was heard at the little grated aperture which served to ventilate the collar, saying:— “1 want to speak with the French officer.” Lavigne replied from the window, advancing his head only a little:— "Will you surrender?” The Prussian officer answered that I ho would. “Then pass your muskets out,” add- i ed Lavigne. Presently one musket was passed through the aperture and fell upon ‘ the snow, then another and another, until all had been passed out. Then thesatne voie^said:— “We have no more. Make haste and let us out, for wo are nearly drowned.” Tho c<r - nndant oponed tho trap door. Four dripping heads appeared 1 —four heads with pale faces and long j yellow hair. Then, one by one, the six Prussians emerged, wet, shivering and frightened. They were seized and bound. The commandant at once led away his prisoners, with whom he en : tered Rethel in triumph. M. Lavigne was decorated for having captured a ■ Prussian advance guard. —Prom the j French. How Savages count. It is very amusing to see the people of Kamtschatka attempt to reckon above ten, for, having reckoned the i fingers of both hands, they clasp them ; together, which signifies ten; they | then begin at their toes and count to j twenty, after which they are quite con founded, and cry “Matcha,” that is, | “Where shall I take more?” A Moravian missionary relates of the Greenlanders that they in counting i proceed beyond twenty with great re luctance, and generally apply to all numbers above twenty a name which j means “innumerable.” Parry, the groat Arctic explorer, says of some tribes of Esquimaux that : they require to use their fingers to count as high as three, and generally make some mistake before they reach ■ seven. ; Many South American tribes are ! i said to have no more than four distinct ■ numerals; and the consequent diflicul , ty in understanding high numbers is well illustrated by a statement of Hum- ' bold!, that he never met an Indian < ' who would not, if asked bis age, say, j indifferently, sixteen or sixty, not con- j I scions that there was much difference between the two. The following anecdote of a South American traveller confirms the state- i meat. This traveller, when out with I a party of ten or a dozen Indians, ; asked one of them, “Are we many?” ; “Yes, we are many.” “Are we innu- [ merable?” “Yes, we are innumera- ! ble.” “That tribe,” he says, "when i they wished to tell how many captives they had taken were unable to state : the number, but would mark out a j space of ground and say there were as ; many as could stand in it.” The inhabitants of some West Indi- j an islands are said to exclaim whenev- ! era number exceeds ten, “As many as j ; hairs of ray head,” or “As the sand of I the sea.” The Yancos, a tribe dwelling near j the Amazon, have no name for any j i number beyond three, "and lucky it is : ' for those who have to do with them,” says the traveller who records the fact, ; “for their name for three is ‘Po-et-tar ra-ro-rin-co-a-ro-ac,’ ” a w ord of ten syllables. Who can wonder that arith metic has not flourished in these lands? A Superfluous Boy. William Trotter has been paying his addresses to Miss Rosa Hedsteer, of Wace. Ilis visits have not been very frequent of late, and last night Tommy, Miss Rosa’s younger brother, said: “You ought to come and see us every • evening. Mr. Trotter.” “Why, Tommy?” "Because it makes sister Rosa so happy to have you go away. Y r ou ought never to miss an evening.” They missed Trotter for the rest of i that evening.— Texas Siftings, (tropical sea wonders. ; Marine Life in the Waters Off Lower California. Beautiful Sponges, Oysters with Lamps, | Ocean Butterflies, Wonderful Shells, Fannie B. Ward says in a letter from Mulege, Lower California, to the New York Sun: The sea seems to be doing its best hereabouts to make up for the barrenness of the land. It is stored with an incredible number and variety of fish, including all those to be found in southern waters, and common as well as pearl-producing oysters, i The most beautiful sponges abound in ; the Gulf, no less than a dozen differ ent species out of the fifty into which | naturalists have classed them. Most numerous is the sponge lomentosa, bright orange-colored, and full of gela tinous flesh. When dry it turns snow j white, and when broken resembles | bread. If rubbed on the hand it will raise blisters, and when dried in an oven its stinging properties are in creased. A common variety here is the oculata, which grows to an extra ordinary height. Its delicate branch es are furnished with rows of small projecting cells along the edges, and its intricate galleries rival the Laby rinth of Crete. Here is also the tiny coronet sponge, its single, pale yellow I tube wearing a crown of spinis topped I with shining rays; the lemon-hued grape sponge, its hollow branches re sembling the fruit of the vine, the openings at the top being evidently mouths through which the animals im bibe moisture. Then there are literal oceans of coxcomb sponge, and the j common coarse variety which grows so plentifully in the Mediterranean. I It is the latter species which is best known to commerce for its absorbing capacity—the same for which the no ble matrons of Rome gave large sums of money to have saturated with myrrhed wine and held to the Ups of | those enduring tho torments of cruci fixion,to subdue their intolerable thirst. Poking about the salty sands in pur suit of information, Betsy and I find entertaining study even in these most insignificant of created beings. While the young oyster and his migrating cousin, the mytilus, are sowing their wild oats and roving here and there, the sedate grandparents anchor them selves snugly at home, by means of small cords, which they weave around the stones. And what do you think of the oyster which lights up thedark noss of his solitary dwelling by a liv | ing lamp? Examine any common I oyster, and in the centre of most of | the shells you will find a bluish spot, j resembling a star. Apply to this a j powerful microscope, and you will dis cover that this bit of phosphorous con sists of three different sorts of animal cules. The largest of these has forty eight legs attached to its slender body, a black spot on the head which is evi- I dently its only eye, and a back exactly i resembling an eel's; the second insect J has also one eye, numerous feet, a dog’s ; nose, and a body composed of several I rings; while the third has a speckled : body and a colt’s head, topped with a I tuft of hair. Each of these creatures I Is beautifully luminous, and together I they resemble a bluish star, which, i perhaps, like the enchanted lamp of , Armida, serves to lure wanderers to i destruction in supplying the oyster’s | larder. Not least interesting among the bi j valve family are the scallops. The kind called butterflies of the ocean are | frequently seen flitting about over the ; clear waters, rivalling the papilonace ous tribes in beauty of coloring. Though enclosed in a citadel of consid erable thickness, the animal can not i only float upon the waves, but can mo* a considerable distance on land, i Sometimes an adventurous scallop finds | himself deserted by the tide and left ■ high and dry above his native element. [ Then, by spreading his valves as wide | as possible and shutting them with a ; jerk, he propels himself about five | inches, and continual repetition of the ! operation gradually tumbles him for- I ward into the sea. In fair weather they congregate together and mount i the billows, forming little fleets, with half their shells erected to catch the breeze, and the other half, which holds the animal, remaining immersed be low. When any foe appears, or a sud den squall darkens the surface of the deep, each little creature instantly shuts up shop, and his pigmy vessel disappears. Doubtless it was this curious habit of the shellfish which suggested the poetic fable of sea gods taking their airings in scallop chariots drawn by tritons, like Neptune’s car, as portrayed on the medal of Claudius. Here are also found numbers of the * oyster jawbrea, like that worn by pil grims, who "fixed the scallop in their i hat before,” to prove they had cros e 1 the sea on their way to the Holy Land. But to us the most curious of all io NO. 26. the Buccinum purpura and its rela. J tive, the stationary Murex, the same little creatures which furnished the ‘ royal purple of imperial Tyre. Betsy ! and I have been dabbling in the same branch of business, and in the course -of our experiments have converted all i our available paraphernalia into purple l of varying shades. The story goes j that a favorite dog of the Tyrian Iler ; cules, while prowling about the sea shore, accidentally broke a buccinum shell which stained his mouth such a gorgeous color that Tyrus, Hercules’s sweetheart, vowed never to see her lover again until he should bring her p. robe of the same hue. Thus con strained, Hercules gathered a great > quantity of the shells, and persevered 1 till the nymph was gratified and the art given to the world. A white vein, 1 growing transversely in a little hol low near the head of tho fish, holds the ( precious dye. Each tiny creature ] yields but one drop, and hence the real Tyrian purple vied in value with ( gold itself. If cne wishes to try the , i experiment of Hercules, let him pro- , ceed in this wise: After sufficient | liquid has been extracted, drop by drop, from the throat of the fishes, wet the wool or cotton in it and spread it iin the sun. At first it appears pale green, then the color of the sea, and in . a few minutes sky blue; then it deep ens to purplish red, and in an hour or more turns to gorgeous purple. By ! : washing the linen at once it changes ! I to a brilliant crimson; but when the 1 color is once sot nothing can fade or | turn it. , The Handsome Neapolitans. They are a handsome race these , ! Neapolitans, and some day in the far | dim future, when they learn andprac tice the elementary arts of the toilet, their good looks will show forth with additional lustre. Such splendid, great flashing black eyes, such stately figures, such rich black locks, unkempt and rusty though they be, are seldom to bo seen even in the other parts of Italy The picturesque lazzarone, with his red sash, bare legs, and general taste for melody and macaroni, has entirely vanished. But though his picturesque ness has disappered, his laziness and dirt remain. It is now twenty-five years since Victor Emanuel and Gari baldi rode side by side into a rescued Naples. But in this quarter of a cen tury no wave from tho incoming tide of freedom has swept over this city. There is a new Rome and a new Genoa. Divine Providence can alone ell when there will be a new Naples. No wonder that the cholera came hero aud reigned triumphant for so many : month of late. King Pijflt, never had a kingdom more thoroughly unswept, more abominably garnished. Ono i much needed reform at least will I shortly be accomplished. Naples is entirely destitute of drinking water that is even moderately palatable and tolerably wholesome. Her general i supply is drawn from wells, in many, instances occupying the same excava tion as the cesspool of tho house and only separated from it by a wall of a single brick in thickness. No wonder ' that severe illnesses arise from drink ing tho liquid thus contaminated. A grand new aqueduct which has been in process of construction for some years past is to be formally inaugura ted on the 30th of this month. King Humbert and Queen Margherita are coming, from Rome to preside at the ceremony, and thereafter for the first ' time in her history tho city will enjoy | the benefits of pure drinking water. [ Eu<y Hooper in Philadelphia Tele- j gram. General Sheri dan’s Three Girls. ; Children of officials often give a re- i freshing side to social life at the capi- I tai that makes it not all superficial and | frivolous. "It has been said of General Sheridan that he is not a success as a “society man” because ho is too much in love with his pretty wife. The "hero of Winchester" is even more devoted to his children, three girls and “little Phil,” Jr., a boy of 5 years. The twin girls, Mary and Louise, look up to their older sister. Irene, who is but a ! year older than themselves, with a' faith in her superiorii.y that is some- ' times amusing. “So you three little girls are sisters,” said a lady the other day. meeting tho trio out for a walk. “Oli. no; wc are twins. Irene is our sister.” replied one of the pair with se rious simplicity. At the fancy dress children’* party given at General Beale's house Irene wore a long train. Little Johnny Hazen, only son of Chief of Signal Ser vice Hazen, was so much amused that lie Jangl ed at the little lady The twins were ind'gnant, and oho of them ex claimed: “Just see that boy laugh at our sister. I don’t like him a bit, md I don’t know his name. But you know his father i 3 the man who makes the weather.”— Wasl tngton Capit I. What Recompense! Ho might have sung a song tho world should hear, Whose clarion notes had sung so loud and clear That mon had listened and been mado The better for tho fray, Tho moil and care of every day; Stronger to boar tho heavy burdens 1 By lite on toilers in the onward way; But fate said nay I Sho might have had the right to say "My own,” The joy of being loved sho might have kuown, Had wrapped around her as a shield From every stinging, poisoned dart Os envy, hatred, or malicious art, The mantle of a love that would not yield * To any foe, but die to save her heart! . • But fate said nay! Site*wept her vanidibd hopes, yet sweeter trod The path of self-dßnial that leads up to God. Ho did his work in tho That God had given him, and labored well; The future world alone can tell What recompense should come to those who hero Bow meekly and work on, nor curse tho knell That sounds fate's nay! HUMOROUS. A round dozen—A dozen of oranges. The place to live in when the next flood comes—New-ark. A roller skate may gather no moss, but it barks a good many shins. “Wo meet to part no more,” said tho bald-headed man to his hair brush. Men’s heads are something like omnibuses—the empty ones make the most noise. “What is a lake?” asked the teach er. A bright little Irish boy raised his hand. “Well, Mickey, what is it?” “Sure, it’s a hole in the kittle, mum.” An exchange asks: “How shall we prevent mice from gnawing the bark' off fruit trees?” Kill the mice of course. .A dead mouse never gnaws bark. A Philadelphia woman says she was kissed by a spirit at a seance. That sensation must be almost as gratifying as being hugged by the ghost of a chance. An exchange notes that tho Horse shoe Fall at Niagara has receded some 300 feet from its original position. Probably an attempt to getaway from the hackmen. First Boston Girl—“ Going to vocal practice this morning, Minerva?” "Second Boston Girl—“No, my dear Calliope, I have a bad coltl and am quite hoarse.” “Ah, been exposing yourself to the weather?” “Yes, I went out yesterday and forgot to put on my spectacles.” Grant and the Kentucky Lndics. The Kentucky women are as en thusiastic about horses as the men. They unhesitatingly place the horses before themselves as the great attrac tions of the state. I remember hear ing a conversation between General Grant and a Kentucky girl at the St- Louis Merchants’ Exchange in 1875, when President Grant was visiting the St. Louis fair. A number of ladies were introduced to the Presi dent, whereupon he spoke in very high terms of St. Louis, the fair, &c. “You are mistaken, Mr. President— we are not from St. Louis,” laughing ly said one of the girls, “we are from Kentucky, a very fine state, you know, which possesses three things all men of taste must appreciate.” Smilingly, ’ the President asked her what they were. She answered: “We have the fastest horses, the prettied women and the finest whiskey in the ~ orld.” The President replied: “Your horses are certainly justly renowned; 1 have some on my farm near here; yourself and party prove the correctness of your second observation, but whiskey is one of the things that require age, and your men consume it so fast that it rarely has a fair chance to become good.” The girls thought that if General Grant could not make a long speech he was apt at repartee. Cliaiigiiig tho Subject. "Always,” said papa, as he drank his coffee and enjoyed his morning beefsteak, “always, children, change the subject when anything unpleasant has been said. It is both wise and po lite.” That evening on his return from business he found his carnation bed despoiled, and the tiny imprint of slip pered feet silently bearing witness to the small thief. “Mabel,” he said to her, “did you pick iny Howers?” “Papa,” said Mabel, “did you see a monkey in town ?” “Never mind that. Did you pick my flowers?” "Papa, what did grandma send me?” “Mabel, what do you mean? Did you pick my (lowers? Answer me yes or no.” “Yes, papa, I did; but I thought I'd change the subject,” '• ■— ‘ A Phrenologist’s Mistake. “The developeiuent at the back of the head, my friends, indicates filial affection,” explained the phrenologist. .'Now you will observe,” he wen’ on feeling the head of the boy on the plat form, “that, this bump is abnormal in size, thus indicating that this lad loves and reveres his parents to an unusual degree. Is it not so my lad?” “Naw!” “What? You don’t love your parents?” “I think well enough of mither, replied the boy, “but I aint very fond of feyther, "That bump you’re feelin’ of he gave me last night wid a cricket stump.”— Public Opin ion.