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WITH ALL HER FAULTS I LOVE HER. From the Jlulge. It's true she write* a scfawly hand. Puts iu two "tV where Duo would do. And -pulls "dog" where an extra "g;" Put not a girl in this wide land Is hall so dear, and very few One-tenth as sweet as she to me. Dear thing! she sometimes says ‘‘l seen." "They was," "I's not," or "So be you;" Them's yours," "They's good"—harsh to iny ears; I B’.tt she is still niy lovely queen, I Whose heart-beats are to mine most true, And will be yet for many years. I gome say that love is blind, and I I Would add that love is deaf also. Though gram marl ess ana spelling bad, I jt' love is handsome, sweet ana shy, I The secret of our love you'd know? She's only five and I'm her dad. THE SWELL BALLET OF JAPAN. I The Maiko—Girls in Gorgeous Fabrics Glide About. From the. La at ion Times. Kioto, as the Mikado’s capital and the I centre of aristocratic residence, was always I famous, and is famous still, for the variety I and excellence of its dances, as well as for I the beauty, grace, and skill of the perform- I el's, whose accomplishments are a household [ word in Japan. No visitor should leave I Kioto without seeing a Maiko entertain- I mer.t. For centuries it was the chief school I of the art, produced its own high-class types, I in u hic-h the object always aimed at was to I preserve, amid all variety, the courtly ele- I gance and dignity and beautiful apparel of | the ancient styles. Such, for example, is I the Shirabiyoshi, a pure Kioto dance or con- I siderable antiquity. And such, though of I modern date, is the Miyako-Odori, or metro- I politan dance, devised barely twenty years I ago by a late director of the dancing society I of Kioto. A representation of this refined dance has I just been prepared for the stage with great I care in honor k of the Mikado’s visit, and lhad I an opportunity of witnessing its performance I a few evenings ago, The theatre is of plain unvarnished and un- I minted wood, the most striking features be- I ing the ponderous roof, carried on a single I span of some fifty feet, and the high ex cellence of the carpenters’ and joiners’ work. Besides the main stage in front, there are two narrower stages, occupying the right and left sides of the building. On the fourth I side, facing the main stage, is a large room like box for the imperial family and court, and in front of it two or three tiers of raised I seats, plainly a modern innovation. The I body of the auditorium, occupying the I space between the side stages, is a flat, un divided matted area, in, or rather on, which the spectators sit in Japanese fash [ ion, and solace themselves with their tiny [ pipes of fragrant tobacco and little cups of I tea. On entering we find the stages concealed I by curtains of white silk crape, painted with I pine, bamboo, and plum trees, the emblems lof longevity, vigor, and fragrance. These | are the only decorations, The lighting is footlights, with candles for the stage, and hanging lamps and rows of candles for the rest of the interior. On the rise of the curtains the scene in I front represents a summer house in the I grounds of the Mikado’s palace, girt by a I veranda with red lacquered steps and rail ings, and hung with bamboo blinds. Right and left, on each side stage, is a crimson dais, on which are seated eight girl musicians, I or geisha, from about 18 to 20 years of age, I clothed in soft raiment of brilliant hues, and got up from head to foot in the highest style I of Japanese art, The eight on the right are players of the I samisen, a species of three-stringed guitar, the chords of which are struck with au ivory plectrum. Of those on the left four play the tsuzumi, a small drum held in the ah' and struck with the hand, the other four per forming alternately with the taiko, or flat drum, and bells of delicate tone. Music and s inging are at once begun. These are of the duaint and, for the most part, somewhat dismal type peculiar to the higher flights of the musical art in Japan. One must be a Japanese to appreciate them. Time and tune, however, are evidently well kept, and the performance is doubtless good of its kind. After a short overture, the Maiko appear, entering at the extremities of the side stages, right and left of the imperial box, and moving in single file toward the main stage. Their advance, extremely slow, can only be described as a progress. It is not a march; neither is it a dance as we un derstand the term. Stately almost to solemnity, yet full of grace, it is a series of artistic posturings and panto mime, in time with the music and accom panied by the slowest possible forward move ment. By the time all of the danseuses have en tered there are lt> on either side —young girls of from about 15 to 17 years old. In dress they are counterparts of the musicians— aglow w ith scarlet, light blue, white, and gold, in robes of great length and volumin ous folds, bound with girdles of truly prodigious dimensions. In spite, however, of the gorgeous coloring, there is nothing garish or distasteful to the eye. No conon of art or taste is offended. The secret lies in the fabric of the girls’ garments—silk crape, the delicate softness of which relieves the brilliancy of tints that might otherwise be displeasing. In person the Maiko are the prettiest little specimens of budding Japanese girlhood, rosy-lipped and black-eyed, with comely and delicate features, tiny bands and feet, and an air of graceful modesty and innocence rarely seen on any stage. As for their coiffure, it is a miracle of the Japanese hair dresser's skill, and rich with adornments of p>wers and coral. How much of their l>f-auty these dainty little lasses may owe to art it might be unkind to inquire too closely. Kioto is famed for its' manufacture of shiroi, a white lead cosmetic of rare virtue, and said to be used with a skill which West ern ladies of fashion would give a good deal to possess. But surely there can be little need for it here, if we may judge from the whiteness of tho Maiko’s hands and of as nmchTif her arms as is now and then re vealed to us. There is also a Japanese rougo of great merit, which uncharitable persons might suspect of having a share in the bril liancy of those “threads 0 f scarlet,” the Maiko’s lips. Imy razors, too, are even supposed by w>nie malignant minds to play a part in the nnely penciled eyebrows of Japanese belles, fans, of course, play a prominent part in the intricate gestures of the Maiko. Those car ried now are large and circular, and richly bedecked with red and white flowers. With these, as with their heads, hands, limbs, and bodies, the flies display to the full, on their slow progress up the theatre, that music of motion which so delights the eyes of the Japanese. Thus, turning, bowing, swaying Kneeling, and waving, always gracefully and in time with the music, the ranks at length meet on the front stage, pass one another, and retire again down the sides, at the end of which they turn, form into pairs, atm regain the stage, one wing soon leaving n, while the other continues thodaneebe mre the footlights for a few miuutes, when it also retires. All this while the music goes on, now sad anil slow, anon in livelier strains, and is no omjiauied by the voices of the tnimisen piayei-s, chanting a hymn of happiness, prosperity, and peace, in which the regin I! " u r Lord the Mikado” is likened, in ughiy flowery language, to the beauty and rnnquillity of nature "at this first dawn of spring. * 111,5 bamboo blinds of the veranda are raiM*d, revealing the first squadron of dancers "'lured in picturesque groups between a .••kgronial of deau gold and the crimson m 3 uer the veranda. These, descending resume the dance. They have e-inv. i flower-girt fans, and , Sin has a tsnxuuiL attached to her bivhwttra B * u ' accompanies the I o them, on their withdrawing, succeed vKif e, * , i | l ■'Kpiadron, who, with scarlet and „ , “ lans, go through a measure of sin gai.tr grace and beauty, and at length retire uio veranda, which rises with than. bringing the first scene to a close. The second scene is laid in the famous gardens of Arashiyama in the suburbs of Kioto, and appears as a fairyland of flowering cherry trees, lit by a galaxy of minute star-like lamps. Here the whole corps gradually re assemble and at lengeh execute a final dance of the same type as before. Jafter which they dance bv the side stages with the slow measur ed movements that marked their first en trance. Tiius, after about an hour’s performance, ends the Miyako-Odori. It illustrates no tale or plot. It is only an elaborate meas ure, of “woven paces and of waving hands,” such ,os Vivien may have trodden “in the w-ild woods of Broeeliande.” It has no objects but those of exhibiting color raiment grace, and beauty with all tho .skill that Jap anese art taste can contrive, and of preserv ing the old classic style of dancing, and set ting examples of tho highest forms of strict feminine etiquette. The Story of Tom, Joe and Jake. From the S:dt iMke Tribune. Tom Collette, with two friends whom I shall christen Joe and Jake, was making a slow and painful journey from Pine Grove, Esmeralda county, to Eastern Nnvada. They camped one afternoon near some hot springs not far from Walker Lake. Dis covering a large hole or pool that was full of Cold water and convenient to one of the hottest of the hot springs, they turned the hot water as it flowed out of the spring into the pool, until the hot and cold water blend ing made exactly the right temperature for a bath. This done, they plunged in and en joved the delicious water as only those can who have traveled some days over dusty al kali trails in hot weather. When supper was over and they had lighted their pipes, the theme of conversation for a long time, as they smoked, was the delicious bath they had taken and the wonderful sense of refresh ment it had brought them. Full of the joy of it, they spread their blanket on a grassy spot beneath some willows a few yards dis tant from the spring, and fell asleep. Tom was up with the dawn. Recollec tions of his fine bath of the previous even ing were still fresh in his mind. So, bound ing up from his blankets with a skip and a jump he plunged into the pool to his middle. With a groan of agony he sprang out again with the agility of a wildcat. The hot water had been running all night. Hours before dawn the cool water pool had been rendered almost as hot as that of the hot spring itself. Brief as had been the period between the entry and his exit, Tom’s fair skin was changed to the color of a boiled lobster. Ho was soon in a terrible state, as the skin was almost sufficiently cooked to peel off. As he asserts, he “was as tender as a young pullet that had been cooked two hours.” With infinite care he drew on his pantaloons and boots, though he felt as though the cooked flesh were peeling off in strips wherever his clothing touched him. Forcing back the teare of anguish that were welling out of eyes Tom crept back to camp. Though it was a most difficult thing to do, he put on his old-time frank smile as he neared the sleeping place at the wil lows, for Jake had awakened and was sit ting on his blankets, gaping and stretch ing. Seeing Tom approach, Jake asked where he had been —if he had been out looking after their ponies. Tom replied that he had so enjoyed his bath of the evening before,and been so much benefitted by it, that he could not think of breaking up camp without re peating it. “Jake,” said he, “it’s just lovely!” Jake did not wait to near more. Bounc ing up from his blankets he rushed away to wards the pool. As swiftly as he could move, considering the tender condition of his skin, Tom followed, and dodging behind a convenient clump of willows, kept covert watch. Jake threw off the few duds in which he had slept, bounced into the pool, uttered a yell of mingled anguish and rage, then clawed his way out upon the green turf with the celerity of an adder. As soon as he stood erect he began making swift applica tions of his open hands to various puts of •his body to arrest the pain, each particular square inch of his hide seeming to hurt worse than the other. All this time he was swearing a blue streak. Louder and louder rose his voice, as light began to break upon his mind, when Tom stepped out from his hiding place crying: “Hush up! Would you bawl like a bull calf and give us away, when that that other son of a gun up in camp is not yet cooked? You and I have hail our dose. Man, we must cook him or we shall never hear the last of it?” Soothed by this, Jake carefully drew on his trousers and shirt and the pair leisurely proceeded to camp. By this time Joe had commenced to rouse up. Seeing Tom and Jake approaching he asked if they had “found the stock—the ponies?” “Ponies, no,” said Tom, “we haven’t been looking for the ponies. We have been tak ing a bath. Do you think,” said he, as he stood holding his pantaloons away from the rear of his person, “do you think we’d break camp without one more magnificent swim ? Not much.” At this Joe sprang up, crying: “Not much, you bet!” and dashed away toward the little pond. As Joe disappeared behind the willows Tom sprang for his pistol and took off all the caps. He and Jake then secured their own revolvers, Tom crying; “Getyour pistol, Jake —quick! There’ll be business when Joe comes back!” In about two minutes Joe did come back. He was howling and cursing furiously, and, all naked as he was, never stopped run ning until he had got his six-shooter in his hand. 1 “Drop it!” said Tom, “I have a dead bead on you, and so has Jake. Besides, I took all the caps off your gun.” The difficulty was amicably settled as soon as Jake and Tom had related their experi ence. The trio took their breakfast stand ing that morning, and —to spare the ponies— they did not ride much for the succeeding three days. An Odd Incident. From the Philadelphia Record. An odd incident happened recently at the West Arch Street Presbyterian church. There was to to a wedding there at 7:80 o’clock of a young lady of extensive social connection in that and other churches. There were great preparations, and it so filled the minister’s mind that he entirely overlooked the fact that he had an apjxfint ment to marry another pair at exactly the same hour. When 7:15 arrived the large church was as full of people as it could possi bly be, and the pavement on each side of the projecting awning was crowded with the non-invited, waiting for that boon which the highest to the lowest enjoys—a peep at the bride. There were at least fifty or sixty carriages in front of tho church. Among the guests in the church were bankers, judges, lawyers, numerous clergymen and a fine representation generally of tho city’s very best social and material prosperity. The organ was pealing and the minister was in his place. Just at this juncture bride and bridegroom-elect No. 2 who had been ut the minister's house and been told to go to the church, drove up in a carriage to_ the side door and entered. Around tlu"*ide door everything was uuiet ns if nothing was going on. Through the door leading from tho (diapol they saw tho illuminuted and crowded church, and just then the other bride in white, with jewels and at tended by a bevy of radiant bridesmaid)*, all in golden-colored gowns, and attended by a retinue of elegant looking youths, came up the aisle. It was carious surprise for the puzzled pair in the chapel. While the last of tho guests were going aud the sexton was putting out the lights the minister married the second pair briefly iu the chapel The bride was in a plain travel ing dress and the groom ill ordinary attire. When they came out to enter the solitary carriage that stood on the side of the street she whs leaning proudly on his arm, and they looked at least as happy as the other pair. *“So Bilklnson is settling up his debts.” “I bear he is.” “Hus he squared things with you yet?” “No. But I’m a friuud of his, you know.” —Town Tovum. THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, MAY 29, 1887—TWELVE PAGES. COLUMBIA CONDEMNS GEORGE. Prof. Dwight Boldly Denounces t.h* New Land Doctrine as Immoral. From the Xeic York Herald. Prof. Theodore W. Dwight stood on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera House last night and in a ringing speech sweepingly denounced the hunt doctrine of Henry | George and Dr. MeGlynn. It was the com j meueement night of the Columbia College ! Law School, and, as warden, he was ad dressing 12U graduates, not to mention a vast andience that filled every seat in the [ great edifice. Behind him, in his official robes and mortar board, was President Barnard, of Columbia College. His speech was received with terrific applause. “The lawyer,” he said, “is to-day con fronted by a most momentous and startling question raised seriously for the first time in thousands of years—ls there any such tiling as individual property, particularly proper ty in land. All of our predecessors have been relieved from the discussion of this question since the days of Abraham, who bought a piece of land for a burial place in the presence of the children of Heth, and it was made sure unto him for a possession. This means in our modern phrase that he had it in fee simple. “From that day to the present moment no one of importance hus denied the right of private property in land. In particular, no one until now has propped to confiscate it after it has been acknowledged and incor porated with the most arduous labors and hallowed by the most tender affections known to the strength and the heart of man. IT WOI'I.D REVERSE CIVILIZATION. “All this is left to the philosophers of our day who have derived their capacity to at tack the right of property from the leisure and culture attainable by reason of its uni versal recognition. Without it we would return to the nomadic condition when each man, clad in his sheepskin and leaning on his staff, shivered as he watched the stars by night and longed for the coming of the day. The men who now attack the right of prop erty in land may main well, but that is so much the worse. The better their inten tions the greater the mischief. If it were known that they had a bad intention good men would at once forsake them. We can now see how wise our forefathers were when they w rote over the face of their political constitution the sacred and time-honored phrase that ‘private property shall not be taken even for public use without just compensation.’ This grand idea they borrowed from Chris tianity and the Christian church as far back as the days of Justinian. It cannot lie withdrawal from the United States consti tution without the consent of three-fourths of the States. It can no more be withdrawn indirectly than directly, as for example by a tax cunningly devised for this purpose. No State can take an iipmoral position on such a question as this at this stage of the world’s civilization. “Without property in land no man has an assured birthplace or burial place. No tree can be planted that he can call his own nor any dwelling erected that can give him shelter. There can be no churches but State churches, no colleges or schools but State colleges and State schools. When the State owns all the land and, all the improve ments what a tempting prize that will be for some bold adventurer. “What is the law- for? I reply, to stand like a wall against the impending deluge, and to insist at all times and against all comers upon the sacred right of property, and to establish and faithfully administer such laws as will assure to the laboring man as well as to the rich a share of that gift of God which he gave to man, not to hold by any casual and wandering title, but by that fixed law which society establishes as most likely to develop the individual man and to make the State great and prosperous, at once the symbol and promoter of civilized justice. THE LAND AGITATOR WILL PERISH. “Great fundamental facts will remain; those who attack them will disappear with out leaving a trace. Great principles once fixed in the minds of men never grow obso lete. They cannot be hurled from their Elace by any man, no matter what may be is popularity. In a few years all that will be loft of the great agitator of to-day will be a few lines in a biographical dictionary. No priest of to-day will for a moment rival in New York the great Savonarola of Flor ence. The great historic church which seven centuries ago caused the haughty Philip Au- ■ fustus of France, despot as no was, to ac nowledge the sacmlness of private proper ty in land null know how to deal with its froward children of the hour. A QUESTION OF MORALITY. “It is a flagrant abuse of language to call the pending question a political question—it is a great social and moral question. When one’s house is threatened with fire it is scarcely a political question to devise means to protect and save it.” LIVING IN THE GROUND. A Peep at Questions Which Will Arise in a Thousand Years or So. Some day, when the archaeologist of the three-thousandth century is excavating America, he will come upon traces of a kind of people he will not understand, says a writer in the San Francisco Ch ronicle. He will write volumes upon the subject of the strange race who; some time in the dim past, looking from that time, lived in holes in the ground. He will find pans and cooking uten sils und picks and shovels down anywhere from 3 to 3,000 feet under the earth, and he will prove from them that the inhabitants of this great continent to-day had their habitations there because of the weather or earthquakes or something. The holes in the ground will never be proved to be mines. There will be enough doubt ou the subject, raised by the discovery of the tailings, to awaken arguments and give the scientific world that only chance of being heard by the loudness of its quarreling over trifles. But there are millions of holes in the ground in Neva la which will be abso lute proof that it was not milling, because the ai-chiuologist will never be able to find a trace of Imetal of any kind of them. The futuro arcrueolo gist is going to have lots of fun. He’ll try and decipher old notices of claims, and then he’ll publish reams of paper giving ingeni ous explanations of that ago when men had such numerous families that they had to lo cate 1,500 feet for burial plats for one man and his progeny. He’ll pick up on the 3,000- foot level a piece of newspaper that hascov erod some miner’s lunch, and he will prove from that that the crust of the earth must have l>een transparent in the nineteenth cen tury, because people can’t read newspapers without light. Oh, yes I I’d like to wake up about th thirtieth century and see how they fancy we lived in the nineteenth. It would not lie a bad idea for the State to buy the Comslook for a burying-ground. We could then boast of our catacombs. The public have purchased it and had it ail care fully cut out with galleries ami things. Ami they could then put up slatis and stones as they doin Westminster Abbey, don’t you know. The übiquitous tourist who always goes into a church in a strange country with his hat on, because God knows he has a pew at home, would lie able to define the progress of humainity in the mining business by studying such inscriptions as: at SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF JOHN SMITH. Paid 115 Assessments and Got told Out. R. L P. Advice to Mothers. Mrs. 'Winslow’s Soothing Syrup should always Ite used when children are cutting teeth. It relieves tho little suffer at once; it produces naturul, quiet sleep by relieving tho child from inuu and the little cherub awakes as “bright as a button.” It is very pleasant to taste. It soothe* the child, softens tho gums, allays ail tain, re lieves wind, regulates tlio towels, and is tho licet known remedy for diarrhoea, whether arising irom teething or other causes. 25 oeuls a bottle. A STUDY OF THE THUMB. ITS PLACE AND POWER IN HU MAN AFFAIRS. What Writers of All Ages Have Had to Say About It Customs, Uses and Abuses—Mutilation to Escape Mili tary Servioe. Fi om aft English Paper. On the length, strength, free lateral mo tion and perfect mobility of the thumb de pends the power of the human hand. The thumb is called jwllex because of its strength and that strength is necessary to the power of the hand, being equal to that of all the fingers. Without the fleshy boll of the thumb the power of the fingers would avail nothing, and accordingly the large boll formed by Die muscles of the thumb is tho distinguishing character of the human hand. The loss of the thumb almost amounts to the loss of the hand, and were it to happen in both hands it would reduce a man to a miserable dependence, or, ns Adonibezek said of tile three score and ten kings, the thumbs of whose hands (and of whoso feet, too) he had cut off, “They gather their meat under my table.” Such is the language used by Sir Charles Bell, F. R. 8., etc., the late eminent physician, in his celebrate! Bridge water treaties on “The Hand,” about this most important part of the grand prehen sile mechanism which so distinguishes man from most of tho lower animals. The origin of the word “thumb” is probably from the Sanscrit root taumi. to grow large, and connected with the Latin t.umeo , to swell. In Anglo Saxon the word was thuma, iu Danish teinmel finger, and it has also been termed antidigit, from its posi tion and uses. The Greeks called it an ticheir, or another hand. Tho Romans knew it as poUex , a noun derived from tho word polleo, to be strong, to excel, thus in dicating both its general excellence and its special superiority over the other component parts of the hand. The thumb is no mean memlier of the hu man body, for in the brilliant days of Rome, when the' multitude had to be pleased by dis plays provided for them in tlie amphithea tres, it had life and death at its command. A singly movement, a .slight, inflection of its joints one way or the other,settled the fate of many a one. Of course we allude to the practice pursued at the gladiatorial shows of deciding whether the poor wretches who hacked and slashed each other or who fought with wild Ixjusts for the delectation of the mob or amusement of their masters should lie allowed to survive the combat or not. This was indicated by the spectators turning the thumb up or down. Among the Romans to close down {he thumbs (premere) was a sign of approbation, but to extend it (vertere. or pollex infestus) was a sign of disapproval. So if a gladiator, after fighting bravely with man or beast, was at last worsted and put at his oppnent’s mercy, the onlookers would sometimes interpose and save his life by elevating their hands and turning their thumbs downward. The fiat thus expressed was all powerful to save. But if they were displeased with the con duct of any particular combatant they al most uniformly condemned him to death by elevating their thumbs and bending them outward, and the poor wretch thus despised was dispatched accordingly by the weapon of his adversary; or if that adversary hap pened to be a 1 least he was left to perish be neath its fangs unpitied and unaided. In allusion to the practice of the popu lace at these degrading spectacles, Juvenal says: The vulgar with uplifted thumbs, Kill each one that before them comes, And this was indeed the case when the state of public affairs put them into an evil torn* ]ier. Happily, such methods of entertain ing a troublesome proletariat have passed away; but we huvean acknowledgment of tlie entire submission of one person to the stronger will of another in the term “under one’s t humb,” an expression that has become quite classic, for docs not the Edinburgh Review says: “Gunhilda soon hail him completely un der her thumb; and instead of his making her, she unmade him, and was in every re spect the evil genius of him and his chil dren.” .And Riehanison, the novelist, also lias, “She is obliged to lie silent! I have her under my thumb.” The thumb has in past days played an important part, too, in bargain making. Tacitus, for example, tells us that certain barbarian kings, when they desired to make a s]>eoially firm and lasting contract, were in the habit of joining their right hunds and twisting each other’s thumbs, or tying them together with a cord, and when the pressure forced the blood to appear at the tips, they then pricked theni with some sharp instru ment and mutually sucked them. This act was doubtless meant as an emblem to ex press their desire to secure a lasting peace • by extracting the hot and fiery blood from that member, so important in handling arms. In later times we find the Celtic and Gothic races practicing something like the same mode. They swore upon the thumb. Thus Allen Ramsay sings: Though kith and kin and a’ should revile thee, There’s my thumb, I’ll ne’er beguile thee. If two persons respectively licked or wet ted their thumlis anil joined the one to the other the bargain or agreement was held to bo firm and binding. In Scottish records decrees are to be found sustaining sales upon summonses of thumb licking, the fact of that ceremony having been gone through at the time of bargaining being considered to constitute a valid agreement. Such was a custom really prevalent among farmers and tradesmen in that country some fifty years ago in markets and places of sale. The wet thumb was a token of rectitude of in tention seldom falsified, and the man who broke his word after confirming it by that sign was looked upon as one whom no oaths could bind. This may be the origin of a custom among school children, known to most parent and teachers, of wetting the finger and saying, “Is that wet.f” then wip ing it and miking, “Is that dry f” etc., when they are agreeing upon or bargaining tor anything among their companions. The act also meant that two persons had a com munity of opinion on any subject. Thus the saying may be still heard in some parts of Scotland, “We may lick thooms upo! that’’—i. e., we are quite agreed ujion that point. At one time, wearing a ring on the thumb was a sign of authority. The word “thumb ring” occurs in Shakespeare, in 1 Henry IV., 11. and 4, where old Faistaff says, “A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder. When I was about thy years, Hal, 1 was not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have crept info an Alderman's thumb ring.” Much an article was actually worn by those civic functionaries in (ast days and perhajH as a sign of resjieot entertained for the thumb itself. The “ring of rings”— the wedding ring—is now worn on the fourth digit of the hand, rierhajw from a notion that was held by tuo “leeches” of bygone days that an artery went from it straight to the heart; but our maternal ancestors, less romantic, it would seem, than their fair descendants, often wore that charmed circlet on the thumb. Although the ring was always placed upon the fourth finger in church it was not always allowed to remain there. English Indies were wont to transfer the golden fetter to their ttimhe, a custom perhaps originated by some high bride whose linger, like that of Suckling's heroine. Was so small the ring Would not stay on which they did bring. It was too wide a peck. At Stanford Court., Worcestershire, may l>e seen the portraits of five ladies of the Salways family, who lived iu the days of Queen’Bess, all of whom carry their wed ding rings upon their thumbs. Boi ler bears witness to this practice in his lines: Others were for abolishing That tool of inatrigiony, a ring. With which the urtsancllfled bridegroom Is married only to a thumb Shakespeare lias a go-id many references to the member now under our consideration. In “Romeo and Juliet” w • have the expres sion, “bite my thumb et t lem,” meaning to feel dislike and vexation toward certain persons so indicated tl on and by many of us in the same way row. Again, the thumb was thought to tool dewed with fore knowl edgod and a peculiar do ;ree of spiritual con sciousness. How else can we account for the exclamaon of oi.e of the wierd sisters in Macbeth: By the pricking < f m v thumbs Something wicki and this way comes. Other writers nnk > use of similar ex pressions implying ft is endowment. How fortunate that in this gross world of stern fact nowadays tin 11 nub should no longer possess its ancient p over, for we think the pricking might now be annoyingly fre quent! Once nor; tho great dramatist shows knowledge o/ the thumb's value in another exclamiv io i of one of the Macbeth witches. Know ng that upon the helm de pends the safety of the ship and upon the Idiot’s hand depends the right guiding of the llom, and that his hand would be without skill and power de (rived of the thumb, he makes the rove: go ul sister says: Here I have u pilot’s thumb. Wrecked as I cm nvard he did come. The possession of that potent member would give her the power of misleading and temp est tossing tne b o-k of the unfortunate “Master of tie Tiger,” whose ehestuut munching wife hxi roused her anger by saying “Aroint thee, witch.” The thumb is introduced into English speech and life iu many ways. Tho young child sucks his thu üb, a little older he rends of “Hop o’ u y Thumb,” as a schoolboy thumto his bocks o- as a girl thumto over a tune, and the workman too often dot's his work merely by the rule of thumb. This last expression is used to describe a practi cal rattier than a scientific method. It has often produced good results in the past, when guided by sterling good sense ami large experience; but the demands of modern manufactures and world wide com i petition necessitate such niceness and ac curacy as are unattainable by the rule of thumb. The origin of this expn'ssion is said to to from the well known practice among women and peddlers of reckoning the thumb’s breadth as ono inch in measuring. Of course no great accuracy could attend this method of computation, and so now we apply the phrase jestingly to any rough and ready way of doing a thing. There was a fine assurance of prevalent honesty about the old practice, though it certainly laid buyers too much at the mercy of wily ped dlers. In this connection we may mention the dishonest practice of “push thumb,” said to have’toen done by dishonest haber dashers in measuring silks, etc., by which the yard was short of the length of the thumb’s first joint, pushed in a skillful man ner by the shopman when measuring by the yardstick. How essential to all manual operation is the thumb—-o. g., to hold the pen, to lift a latch, to press a spring, to use the scales; in short, to do a hundred things the antidigit is necessary. Thumbs, too, are essential helps to or atory. It was so in Quintilian’s day, for he tells us of the various modes of employing the fingers and thumb in oratorical de livery. Many a successful speaker or noted orator in these days shows now much he depends uixm ite aid during his addresses by perpetually tapping it with tho fore finger of the opposite hand. At every tap no doubt the thumb gives out au unseen stream of eloquence, electrical, perhaps, in ite nature, and of course all the more cal culated to powerfully affect the audience! Then how many of our platform speakers have a habit of putting the thumto into tho armholes of their vest, and thus presenting a told front to their auditory. In time of persecution the poor thumb lias tom made the vehicle for experiencing torture by the use of “thumbkins,” “thuulb iekins.” or the “thumbscrew.” This instru ment for compressing the thumbs was much used by the Spanish inquisitors, and it was also used occasionally in Britiau —when to otitaiu a confession or recantation —because it caused exquisite pain without endanger ing tho life of the victim. Gon. Dalzoll brought thumbkins into use in torturing the poor Scotch (jovqnanters. The last recorded instance of their application in the Old World was in the case of Principal Care stairs, who in lf)84 was effectually tortured nt the orders of the Scotch Privy Council, with the view of making him reveal tho secrets of the Argyle and Monmouth parties. The very pair of thumbscrews which crush ed his thumb tones and caused his arms to swell to the shoulders are still preserved. When Carstairs was introduced to King William after the Revolution in 1088 the monarch is reported to have inquired atout the thumbkins. “I will some (lav show them to you,” said tho principal. lie obtained them from the new Privy Council of Scot land. “I must try them,” said the King. “I must put in my thumbs there. Now, principal, turn tne screw. Oh, not so gently; another turn; another. Stop! stop! No more; no more! Another turn, I am afraid, would make mo confess any thing.” The thumb is a sine qua non to the soldier, it is in the art military that it as sumes its greatest importance. To escape militry service it has been in all ages the practice to mutilate the hand by cutting off the thumb. In ancient Rome severe laws were passed to prevent thumb mutilation, yet the practice had become so common in the time of Theodosius that the word jxd troon, as a synonym for coward, came into vogue. This word is compounded otpollice truncus, mutilated in the thumb, and to day, in our own language, the word lias a place and the same meaning—coward. To pull tho trigger of a musket, to handle the sword, etc., the thumb is indispensable. To thumto, then, we may ascribe the most glorious victories as well as the most desolat ing wars of oppression. True, then, it is “thumbs make heroes.” The snuff taker finds the thumb very useful, as Shakespeare shows when Kneak ing of the fop of olden days (Henry IV., I, 3): Betwixt his Anger and his thumb he held A pouncet box, which ever and anon He gave his nose. So thumbs have something to do with help ing the revenuo. Other more significant gesture* we might advert to, but we close by hoping this paper will be well thumbed and by quoting Fielding’s words, which, though applied to the renowned Tommy Thumb, the aou of Gaffer Thumb, are ap plicable to the two jointed digit: Kay where's the mighty Thumb, our sword and buckler? Though 'gainst us men and giants league with gods, Yet Thumb alone is equal to more odd*. A Rival to tho Ocklnwaha. From the Fort Myers Press. Ijost Saturday Col. H. L. Hart and W. J. Webb, of l'alatka, came down the Calooea hatchoe river from Fort Thompson in a skiff, leaving the steamer Rosalie there with a sriag Txiat. In a short conversation we learn that Col. Hart is entirely satisfied with the feasibility of the Ualooealiateheo river route, and he avers tliut no such mag nificent scenery exists on either the Goto waha or St. John's us is to be seen on this river. Ho is satisfied that his boats can make th" trips without vny difficulty wliat ever, and that if a party of tourists once jxiss over the route they must adver tise it far and wide, for its strange, weird and beautiful scenery. The Colonel will no here again in atout three weeks to make all necessary arrange ments. He is prepared to put on two boats at oheo and a third In a short time. We are satisfied that Col Hart means business, and when he again comes we can give our readers the assurance that the route wifi he opened hi good time for the fall and winter business. Tho route lias long toon a great desideratum with tourists, especially, and will open up an entirely new and attractive line or travel With a lioifer just coming to milk the period of flow should be made as long as {xosublo or dostruhle by feeling especially to that end, anil when onco established nil] be very likely to bo continued. When this is not done it often recede* in a short milker, and is a reason why there are so many of that clasa SNAKE LIZARD. A Reptile and an Egg Partaking of a Banquet Once in Six Weeks. From, the Denver Tribune-Republican. A great black rattlesnake was moving leisurely about in his cage in a Larimer street shop window in Denver, when a re porter jmused to look at the reptile for the space of a few minutes. A bright patch of sunlight was flooding the window, and in this the snake seemed to be reveling; taking his holiday, as it were, for it takes a consid erable incentive to make a snake move on a cloudy day. The rattlesnake had his house all to himself, at least there were no other snakes present at the entertainment, but away in one corner of the cage, *cowering and quivering in the most agonizing fear, sat a half grown rat, with his feet, curled up under him, his long slender tail fairly lashed into an interrogation point with excitement, and his bright little black eves snapping as if they would pop out of his head with horror. The rattlesnake moved leisurely along, first to one side of tlie cage and then to the other, sometime turning his body slowly around near the corner where the rat was, and sometimes crawling to the opposite end of the cage, but always keeping Ins glittering eyes on the rat., which poor little animal seemed utterly transfixed with horror. Sometimes the snake would crawl up to the very front of the cage, rubbing the length of his body along the bars, stick ing out his tongue, and evidently drinking in the sunshine which fell direct upon him. In the meantime a crowd had congregated outside the window and were curiously watching the movements of the rattlesnake, whom they momentarily expected to pounce upon the terrified rat and devour it, but the snake took his own time. It way evidently no common rattlesnake, but a genuine monarch of its kind, who took life on an easy plan and never hurried about any thing. 11l an adjoining cage lay a great red lizard, dozing in the sun on the gravelly lied prepared for his comfort. This creature was fat and broad and torpid. It wns ulso vl and black alternately in the mast artistic fashion, as if the deft fingers of some young lady skilled in the art of fancy work had beaded him to the queen’s taste. This lizard has a history. It was brought to the News office five years ago and presented to the manager, Sir. Arkins, but Mr. Arkins, not feeling greatly drawn toward it, hud given strict orders that it should lie hastily presented, with his com pliments, to the Larimer street establishment. It is said that a message had early come from the News office to this effect: “Why don’t yon hurrv up and take the nasty beast, away f” But this is only a bit of history, and has little to do with the story in question, save that, the lizard was soon roused from its slumbers by lieing sharply prodded with a stick, inasmuch as it was time for him to dine. Having, there fore, the vision of a feast in its mind, it lifted its fat red Ixirly, oiiened its eyes and awaited developments. In the meantime the rattlesnake was moving slowly about liis cage, and the timorous rut was crouching closer and closer to the bars. When the lizard awoke, the people turned their at tention to it, and the rattlesnake, attracted by the sound of footsteps, took its eyes off the rat for the time being and fastened them intently upon its next floor neighbor. At that juncture the door of the lizard's cage was quickly ojienisi and an egg wus thrown upon the gravelly carpet of his habitation. It ri*tosd there but a moment. The fat, lazy red creature became possessed with momentary energy. Moving quickly to where the egg lay, it seized upon it like some rapacious monster devouring his prey, ami, taking it in its mouth, attempted to swallow it down at a gulp. But the effort was too great. The lizard’s mouth was not large enough. The creature gasped and gurgled, ami finally spat the egg out again upon the gravel. Then rage seemed to inspire the lizard. He rolled his fat body angerily upon the egg, broke it in two pieces and quickly devoured it one piece at a time. This operation quickly comploted, his lizardship lay down to rest again, and the attention of tile crowd was quickly at tracted to the neighboring cage, where the rattlesnake was lieginning to move rapidly ill the direction of its prey. It was a plain case. The snake had tormented and tanta lized the rat until tiring of the sport it had turned for a moment to watch the fat, red lizard feasting on the egg, and the sight had evidently increased its own greedy nungor, for making one swift advance upon the rat he killed and swallowed it so quickly that not one of the spectators could have ex plained how it was done. As the snake swallowed the rat the animal could be seen slipping along the length of tho reptilo’s body with remarkable distinctness. A few more gull* and all was over. His snakt>ship then surfeited with tho rat on which he had dined, soon flung itself on the cloth lining of the stage which composes its couch, and had soon sunk away into sleep. Doubtless sleep brought to it many visions of feasting 'time, many fields fairly paved with gigantic rats which it became the privilege to 'all upon and devour. It was the first Hi the lizard had partaken of food for six tv. i., The proprietor of the establishm m id that they never ate oftoner. and l bat rattlesnakes could never be induced to oat frogs. If the rat hail lieen thrown into the cage dead the rattlesnake would have crawled over its body for the space of a year’s time without eating it, but it is tho appearance of life in these smaller and more helpless animals which seem to provoke the cruel dcßire of the rattlesnake. It is said that tho rattles are designed by nature for tho pur pose of imitating tho sound of insects, there by luring hapless birds into the toils of the snakes. A bird singing on the branch of a tree heares a chirping sound which it im agines emanates from tho throat of some fat and juicy tmg, quickly descends among u thick growth of grasses, and never knows more, for it is at ollco seized upon and devoured by the reptile which has been lying in wait for it, perhaps for a day. This is one of a rattlesnake’s sly tricks not usually known to the public. It is said, also, that there is no such thing as snake charming. Anybody may be a snake charmer who has sufficient oourage to keep his eye colly fixed on the bright orbs of the reptile, and to prod it vigorously with a stick. In this way the snake may he irrated almost to death" and will never attempt to bite anything except the stick. It has long since been ascertained, by those who deal in snakes, that a pro fessional snake charmer never buys a snako until he has learned that it is absolutely free from poison. The rattlesnakes they use have their poison fang extracted, and other varieties of snakes arc many of them harm less. In this way wonderful feats are per formed by so-called snake charmers in public. It is a curious scientific fact that all the elements of the poison found in a rattlesnake are inherent in the common Irish jsitoto. A teaspoon upon being forced into a rattlesnake’s mouth oomes out brimful of the poison ) dreaded by man, Slang in Texas. From the Dallas News. Yesterday afternoon a well-known gen tleman in this city was discussing with a News representative the prevalence of slang in the country. “Just to show you how almost universal it is becoming we will tost it right bero. It is raining, and we will stand in this door, and to every person of your acquaintance who passe* by you will put this question: “Isn’t this rain gloriousr’ and note their answers. The pair stood in the door, the gentleman, watch In hand, and the News representative with note book and pencil ready. Thirty five gentlemen passed by, to whom the query was put. Thirty-one of them replied, "You bet. One sain: “I should smile;’’ two said, “She is getting there with both feet,” and the other remarked, “Go long, Liza Jane.” There were others who later went scud ding by. One responded, "I should snicker to remark.” Another one smiled broadly, “Young ducks ain’t a circumstance.” A third caroled. “Bet your sweet life," and tho fourth. lispoJ bewitchiugly, “If any lx sly asks you, tell ’em you don't ,J;now. Tho gentleman standing with the reporter said: “Well that ‘‘frWjVyt Ifni frout namo it wu. Lawks” LOTTERY. I \NPRECEDENTED ATTRACTION'! * v Over a Million Distributed. CAPITAL PRIZE, $300,000, LOUISIANA STATE LOTTERY COMPANY. Incorporated by the Legislature in 1868 for Educational and Charitable purposes, and its franchise made a part of the present State con stitution, in 1879, by an overwhelming popular vote. llm <rmi! Single dumber Drawing* take {>lncc monthly, and the ttem!-Annual Draw nuN regularly every hU month* (June and December). “WV do hereby certify that we supervise th arrangements for ali the Monthly and Semi- Annual Drawings of the Louisiana State Lot tery Company , and in /wraon manage and con trol the Drawings themselves. , and that the same are condut'ted with honesty , fairness , and in good faith toward all parties , and we authorize the Company to use this certificate, with fac similes of our signatures attached , in its adusr tisemenU." Commissioners. HV the undersigned Ranks and Banker* will pay all Prizes drawn in the I-ouisiana State lot teries which maybe presented at our counters. J. H OGLESBY, Pres. Louisiana Nat'l Bank. PIERRE LANAUX, Pres. State Nat’l Bank. A. BALDWIN, Pres. New Orleans Nat’l Bank. CARL KOHN, Pres. Union National Bank. GRAND SEMI-ANNUAL DRAWING In the Academy of Music, New Orleans, TUESDAY. June 14. 1887. Capital Prize, $300,000. 100,000 Tickets at Twenty Dollars each. Halve* $lO, Quarters $5, Tenths $2, Twentieths sl. LIST or PRIZES. 1 PRIZE OF SBOO,OOO is sßoo,oo® 1 PRIZE OF 100,000 is 100,000 1 PRIZE OF 60,000 is 60,000 1 PRIZE OF 25,000 is 25,000 3 PHIZES OF 10,000 are 20,000 5 PRIZES OF a,OOO are 35,000 SB PRIZES OF 1,000 are 25.000 100 PRIZES OF 800 ore 60,000 300 PRIZES OF 800 are 60,000 800 FRIZES OF 300 are 100,000 APPROXIMATION PHIZES. 100 Prizes of S6OO approximating to SBOO,OOO Prize are 80.000 100 Prise* of s;iuo approximating to SIOO,OOO Prize are 30,000 100 Prizes of S2OO approximating to SBO,OOO Prize are 30,000 TXLMINAL PRIZKr,. 1,000 Prizes of SIOO decided l>y .$300,000 Prize are 100,000 1,000 Prize* of SIOO decided by.. .SIOO,OOO Prize uru 100,000 8,186 Prizes, amounting to $1,055,000 For clubs rates or any further Information apply to the undersigned. Your handwriting must he distinct ana Signature plain. More rapid return mail delivery will be assured by your enclosing an envelope bearing your full ad dress. Rend POSTAL ’VOTES, Expanse Money Or ders, or New York Exchange iu'ordinary letter. Currency by Express (at our expense) ad dressed M. A. DAUPHIN. Sew Orleans, U. or M. A. DAUPHIN, Washington, D. V. Address Registered Letters to NEW ORLEANS NATIONAL B ANK, New Orleans, La, RPMP MR CD That the presence of Oen nC. IVi C. IVI DC. n [Jeauregard aud Early, who are in charge of the drawings. Is a guarantee of absolute fairness and integrity, that the chances are nil equal, and that no ona can poseibly divine what number will draw a ITize. REMEMBER that the payment of all Prize* is GUARANTEED BV FOUR NATIONAL HANKS of New Orleans, and the Tickets are signed by the President of an Institution, whose chartered rights are recognized in the highest Courts; therefore, beware of any imitations or anonymous schemes. railroads] South Honda Railroad. Central Stand ax'd Time. ON and after MONDAY, May 38d, lfW, train* will arrive and leave as follows: ♦Daily. + Daily except Sundays, {Dally ex cept Mondays. LIMITED WEST INDIA FART MAIL Leave Jacksonville (J., T and K W.) *12:30 p m, Sanford 4:40 p m; arrive Tampa 3:00 p m. Returning leave Tampa 8:00 pm, Sanford 1:00 am; arrive Jacksonville (J., T. ami K W.) 6:30 a m. WAY TRAINS. Leave Hanford for Tampa and way stations t,l 8:40 a ttt Arrive at Tampa tj 1:36 pm Returning leave Tampa at +J 9:00 a m Arrive at Sanford tl 2:00 pm Leave Sanford for Kissim mee and way station* at. tl0:20 am and 5:00 pm Arrive at Kissimmee ut t 1:30 pm and 7:05 pm Returning leave Kissimmee +s:ooamand2:lßp m Arrive at Sanford tß:2oamands:Bspm tJSteamboat Exprees. BARTOW BRANCH. Lv Bartow Junction.. .tl 1: Ift a m and * 7:40 p m Ar Bartow 12:55 p m and B:4opm Returning I.v Bartow. ,t f) :|0 a m and * 8:00 p in Ar Bartow Junction... 10:40 am and 7:10 pm PEMBERTON FERftY BRANCH. Operated by the South Floriila Railroad. •Leave Bartow for Pemberton Ferry and way stations at 7:15 a m Arrive at Pemberton Ferry at 9:80 a m • Returnlng leave Pemberton Ferry at 5:00 pm Arrive at Bartow at 8:00 p m •Leave Pemberton Ferry 7:0) a iu Arrive Bartow 11:20 a iu • Leave Bartow 12:40 p m Arrive Pemberton Ferry..., 4:50 p nj SANFORD AND INDIAN RIVER R. H. Leave Sanford for Lake Charm and way stations 5:50 pm Arrive lake Charm 7:16 p ra Returning— Leave Lake Charm 6:30 a m Arrives at Sanford 8:00 a in SPECIAL CONNECTIONS. Connects at Sanford with the Sanford and Indian River Railroad for Oviedo and point* on lake Jesup. with the People's Una and Doßary Line of steamers, amt J. T. and K. W. Ry. for Jacksonville and all intermediate points on the St. John's river, and with steamers for Indian river and the Upper St. John's. At Kissimmee with steamers for Fort* Myers and Bussinger andjpointa on Kisaimmee river. At Pemberton Ferry with Florida Southern Railway for all points North and West, and at Bartow with the Florida Southern Railway for Fort Meotle and points South. STEAMSHIP CONNECTIONS. Connects at Tampa with steamer “Margaret" for Palma Sola. Braktontown, Palmetto, Mana tee and all [stints on Hillsborough and Tampa Bays. Also, with the elegant mail steamships "Mas onite" and "Olivette,” of the plant Steamship Cos., for Key West anil Havana. Through tickets sold at all regular stations to points North, East and West. Baggage c heeked through. Passengers for Havana can leave Sanford on Limited West India Fast Mall train at 4:40 p tn Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, connecting same evening with steamer at Tampa. WILBUR McCOY, (Jeneral Freight and Ticket Agent. MEDICAL. PENNYROYAL PILLS. ■CHICHESTER'S ENGLISH." The Original and Only (srnulne. Safe and always Reliable. Beware of worthleaa Imitations. Indis[>eiißable to LADIES. Ask your Druggist for "I bichester’a English" and take no other, or Inclose 4e. (stamp) to us for particulars in letter by return inn 11. NAME PAPER. I hleiieater f'hrmlral Cos., 2313 Madison Square, Phllada, Pa. hold by Drug gists etrry where. Ask for “I'hl- Chester's English" Pennyroyal Pills. Taka no other. kk \ FRIEND in need Is a Mend Indeed." if iV you have a friend send him or her the SAVANNAH WEEKLY NEWS; It only coots Id 25 fur a vear 11