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They’ll come again to the apple tree—
Bobin and all the rest—
When the orchard branches are fair to see
In the snow of the blossom drest,
And the prettiest thing in the world will be
The building of the nest.
Weaving it well, so round and trim,
Hollowing it with care—
Nothing too far away for him,
Nothing for her too fair—
Hanging it safe on the topmost limb,
Their castle in the air.
Ah! mother-bird, you’ll have weary days
When the eggs are under your breast,
And shadow may darken the dancing rays
When the wee ones leave the nest;
But they’ll find their wings inaglad amaze,
And God will see to the rest.
So come to the trees with all your train
When the apple blossoms blow;
Through the April shimmer of sun and rain
Go flying to and fro,
And sing to our hearts as we watch again
' Tonr fairy building grow.
A MOTHER’S IDOL.
In a luxuriously turmsneu room, with
soft, rich carpets, curtains, draperies,
and dainty knick-knacks, such as are
only seen in the dwellings of the wealthy,
the light was carefully shaded, and in
the centre of the apartment, in a child’s
crib, the rich lace curtains and blue
hangings of which were drawn and fas
tened back to admit the air, lay a boy of
two or three years in the delirium of
fever; his lovely face was Hushed, his
blue eyes wide open, and his rounded
limbs were tossed incessantly from side
to side, while incoherent moans and
cries occasionally came from the poor
sufferer. Several servants and attend
ants passed noiselessly in and out of the
heavy portiere of dark blue which fell
across the doorway, and an oval ivory
framed mirror set in a panel of the same
color was reflected in shadow on the
wall. The sweet face of the “Madonna
of the Grotto,” and her boy, and a
pretty marble Psyche, veiled, with her
lover Cupid by her, shone in the dim
ness. Everything that could bring com
fort and beauty was there—but, alas I
these were vain to ease the little pain-
tossed limbs, or still the throbbing of the
brain-anguished, curly head so uneasily
rolling on the pillow.
The mother bent over her boy in an
agony of grief. She was young and
beautiful, and her whole life and being,
aye, her very soul, was centered on him.
“Oh, my God, spare him! I cannot
give him up! Spare himl I will not
live without him!”
No prayer for patience, for submission
to a higher will than hers, passed her
lips, but only the agonized cry to spare
him to her, to save him for her love.
She had never learned in all her life to
bow to another will than her own, and
now, when her idol was stricken, she
had no other hope, no other ciy, but
“Snare him! l«t. him live!”
“Spare him! let him live!
TJie doctors had said, “If: he sleeps
there is hope;-but if this restlessness
continues he cannot endure it long.”
" Everything had been done, every
soothing influence tried, and still the
blue eyes were wide open, and the child
moaned and tossed on his weary bed,
and still the one wild prayer went up.
“Oh, let him live! Spare me my child!”
Unlike Isabel in Mrs. Browning’s
beautiful poem, -do vision- came to en
treat her to release her child’s soul and
let him And ease and peace.
Her prayer was answered; gradually
the child’s tossing became less frequent",
the lids closed, aud a death-like silence
fell upon the darkened room. The
watchers held their breaths, and the
overwrought mother sank back upon a
couch which had been drawn near the
little crib; but still she watched every
rise and fall of the covering which had
been at last permitted to remain over
the restless child.
Gradually the flush faded, the labored
breath became low and gentle—so low r
that several times the mother bent over
him in anxious dread. He slept until
the sun was high in the heavens. He
awoke, and stretching out his arms to
his weary mother, shaped that first sweet
word, “mammal” And she clasped her
darling to her breast and had no thought
but that he would live, and was all her
own. Wrapt in her precious idol, no
prayer went up now in thankfulness for
her answered petition.
Ten years had glided away, and the
same mother was seated on a low chair
before a bright wood fire which burned
cheerfully in an open grate. It was the
same room, but the baby’s crib no longer
stood there. Long ago it had been re
moved. The pictures and ornaments
were the same, and the fire cast rosy
gleams on various other beautiful things,
and on the warm draperies in that lux
urious chamber. Still her boy came
not. He was out on the darkened street.
The quiet, loving beauty of his happy
home had few attractions for him, and,
young as he was, he had tasted those
tempting sweets of early dissipation
that, like the adder, coil themselves
around their victim’s bodies and crush
their lives, and rendering soul, body and
brain one mangled, mutilated mass, pass
on to others already entering their
sheeny snare.
At last he came, and throwing his
arms around his mother’s neck, coaxing-
ly excused himself for his truancy. A
boy of about fourteen, with strong,
straight limbs, curly chestnut hair, and
large blue-gray eyes; but there was evi
dence of youth undermined, of physical
energies dwarfed, and the large eyes
lacked that brightness and beauty so
surely found in the orbs of the youth of
that age.
Young as he was there were stories of
his ungovernable temper and evil pro
pensities; but they never reached his
mother’s ear; if they did, die turned
from them. Her life was a lonely one
save for him; an early marriage, a
neglectful husband, who had died soon
after their child’s birth; she had wealth
secured to her; it would one day be her
son’s, and if even now he demanded
sums which were far too great for a boy
like him to spend on his own amuse
ment, his weak mother thought boys
most amuse themselves, and gladly sup
plied his exacting wishes. And so was
fuel supplied to add flames to the fire
that was already under way in its dead
ly work of devastation and physical ruin.
Ten years again had been numbered
with the ages, bringing strange changes
to the lonely mother in her beautiful
home. Eustace’s wild and dissolute
habits were generally known, and only
at intervals did he visit his home; his
many broken promises of reform could
not be relied upon, and even his doting
mother felt a cold chill at her heart as
she reflected on her son and wondered
where it would end.
For years she hoped for better things,
amt placed reliance on his soothing
woids and caresses; but she had learned
ut late, with a sick cold heart, howmuch
I him still, and month after month hoped
on. She always greeted him with a
smile of welcome, and strove to make
his home as attractive as she could. At
one time he had narrowly escaped dis
grace; but things had been tided over.
The end was yet to come.
It was a gloomy winter evening; snow
was beginning to fall, and the lady turn
ed from the window where she had been
standing with an aching heart, and drew
a chair close to the fire, that, crackling
and dancing fantastically, seemed to
cast wierd reflections over a desolate
past.
Fifty years might have passed instead
of twenty to judge from the difference
between the young mother who sent up
agonized prayers for hfir baby’s life and
the careworn, old-looking woman who
bent over the fire in the grate. Yet
everything about her was dainty and
beautiful as of old, and her dress was
tasteful and elegant. It was all for her
boy, poor soul!—that he should not find
his mother aught but what he could
admire, never reckoning how little he
cared for any one but himself.
Eustace’s birthday to-morrow!” she
said aloud, “He will remember to see
me! O God!” she cried, rising and qlasp-
ing her hands. “Just twenty ^ars
since I prayed for my darling’s life! Can
it be it was for naught but suffering?
You were beautiful and good once; will
you ever come back to me?” And she
hid her face in her hands, and the tears
fell through her thin fingers,
Just then the portiere was drawn aside
and Eustace stood before her. But oh,
what a contrast to the fair, sweet baby
and the tallstrioling of ten years ago!
His dress was disordered, his" face ashy
pale, his blue eyes wild and sunken.
“Mother!” He came up to her and
seized her hand. “You must hide me!
They are after mel” And he iooked
around the room in nervous agony. “It
is a horrible tale for your ears, poor
mother! There was a quarrel—we were
all mad with drink and excitement—and
I have blood—blood on my soul, besides
its other sins!” And the miserable man
sank at the feet of his wretched mother.
She dropped beside him in a wild par
oxysm of grief, and tried to raise his
head to her lap; but it fell back as if he
were dead. She rang for assistance and
had him placed upon a couch, and medi
cal aid summoned; he awoke, from his
stupor only to break into wild ravings
and agonized cries. The doctor shook
his head, said dissipation had done its
work, and he was doomed. The myrmi
dons of the law shrank from his wild
raving and ghastly face, and took their
station in a room down stairs; but a
higher tribunal awaited him.
Again the agonized mother bent over
her child. He had sunk into a death
like stupor, exhausted by his wild rav
ings. As in a dim vision the past glided
slowly before her, and the baby of twenty
years ago was lying in his pretty crib,
and she seemed to hear the echo of her
own wild prayer, “Spare me my childl'
SOU she watched on. Eustace never
stirred, and the shaded IijJht made the
pale face and sunken eyes look yet more
weird. The calm, sweet Madonna
seemed almost to bend a pitying look
from the wall, and the rounded outline
of the veiled Psyche and her boy lover
glistened iii the shadow. How unchanged
these dumb things, yet how different the
aching living hearts! • —
Suddenly the sufferer stirred, and the
mother Would have called forthe doctor,
who was waiting outside; but with all
his failing strength he-clutched convul
sively her hand.
“Mother!”
She bent over him.
“I am sorry—forgive! Our Father—”
And trying to grasp the long unsaid
prayer, the sin-stained soul passed from
earth.
The heart-broken mother made no
moan, but fell upon her knees and bur
ied her face in the pillows. She knew
how her wild and selfish prayer for her
child had been answered. Too late had
come the awakening—her child had lived
to be a murderer, and she could only
hope now that perchance out of the in
finite mercy of the Savior, his dying ef
fort to pray his childhood’s prayer was a
token of forgiveness. Sad, sad, is too
often the reality, but too true is the
awakening.
There is much natural beauty _
Corea, the beauty of mountain, forest,
and prairie, of profuse vegetation, and
plentiful rivers and cataracts. And the
people are notindifferent to these beau
ties; they are a “seeing” race, and
proud (among themselves) of their ma
rine and mountain views. The country
is fertile, but the climate has great ex
tremes of heat and cold. The Indian
story of “the tiger that owns my vil
lage” would be thoroughly appreciated
in Corea, where a very large and fierce
species of that terrible animal abounds,
and the idea of it pervades all works of
art. To Japanese children, Chosen
known as “ the land of the tiger. ” Leo
pards,bears and wolves are <also very
numerous, the wild deer and the wild
hog abound, monkeys are found in the
southern provinces, and alligators and
salamanders in the rivers. The people
are large eaters, especially of meat;
small oxen in great numbers supply
them in the south, and dogs are eaten
commonly. Tea and rice are rare lux
uries, and fish is chiefly devoured raw
Altogether, the “diet” chapter is an
uncomfortable one. Sheep are im
ported from China for sacrificial pur
poses only, and goats are rare. The
jxjorer classes are meagrely fed; they
live like the Japanese, on millet and
beans. All classes use tobacco very
much. We may take it that the man
ners and customs which Mr. Griflis de
scribes ;is existing now are just the
same as they have been for ages; do
mestic slavery in its mildest form, for
instance, the position of women, the
fraternal principles on which trades and
industries are conducted, and the curi
ous ceremonies of marriage, burial and
mourning.
Women are not so ill off in Corea as
in many other less secluded heathen
countries. They have no rights, and
are disposed of like the other animals;
but they are nofr-iljff rented by their
owners, and though their personal in
significance actually extends to then-
having no names, they receive titles of
honor in public, their apartments are
secure from intrusion, they cannot be
punished for any crime, the males of the
family being responsible for them, and
they are free (and safe) to go about at
all hours. Widows of position are not
supposed to marry again, and are ex
pected to mourn all their lives, but a
man whose wife dies wears half mourn
ing for a very short time. I) is a breach
of good manners to be vehemently sorry
for one’s wife, and the sex that makes
every law findis that one easy to keep.
A Corean king is a rather absurd per
sonage; nobody must touch him unbid
den, and any one who accidentally does
so has henceforth to wear a red cord
round the neck. Metal, also, must
never approach the royal person. The
King has despotic power, but it is tem
pered by many kindly customs; he hears
the complaints of his subjects, aud is in
constant comnw nication with the-popu
lace, bymeauslof commissioners/ The
Main* Bear Stories.
Bears are getting so uncomfortaby
numerous around Moosehead Lake as to
alarm even the old Indians and other
settlers by' their frequent boldness and
surprising cunning. The other night,
members of the family of George C.
Luce, living about two miles northwest
from the head of the lake and near the
west branch of the Penobscot River,
were aroused by John Abbo, who had
heard an unusual noise in the pantry,
and coming down stairs they saw by a
light shining from Mr. Luce’s bedroom
a large bear helping himself to family
provisions. Abbo’s gun was standing
near the pantry door and within a foot
of the bear, -which unconcernedly watch
ed the approach of Abbo, while he tested
the various articles within reach. All
this was going on while Mr. and Mrs.
Luce slept, oblivious to the intrusion,
within a few feet of the scene. Abbo
finally succeeded in reaching his gun
when the bear retreated through the
pantry window, which he had smashed
on getting into the house. Mitchell
Francis, an Indian sleeping in an Adjoin
ing bed, was aroused by the breaking
glass, and he, together with Abbo, drove
the bear into the woodshed, but were
unable to. shoot with any certainty on
account of the darkness. Finding him
self cornered, Bruin made a plunge and
went completely through the rear of the
shed, which was strongly boarded, and
escaped into the darkness. In about an
hour, however, Abbo found the brute in
the pantry again, as did Luce. This
time Abbo went to the window just in
time to save the retreat, and without
stopping to raise the window took aim,
fired and the bear fell, though he was
not finally despatched until he had made
a desperate fight in the door yard. His
weight was between 300 and 400 pounds.
Thursday night, just after the Brattle-
borough fishermen nad come off the lake,
Mitchell Francis discovered .a bear in
the road near Savage’s hotel, where the
aarty were stopping. Three shots killed
' lim. He weighed over 300 and his head
and paws were divided among the party.
The following day another was seen by
one of the guides, who was unarmed. A
bear broke into one of the storehouses
on the Penobscot the other night and
carried off hams, fish and a quantity of
other articles. Sunday three sizable
bears were brought into “Kineo”by the
guides. Deer, moose and caribou are
very plenty in the region, but the law
and tiie flies prevent the hunting of
them.
—By command of Queen Victoria, all
the servants on the Balmoral -estate are
. _ wearing stripes of black on the arm as
<*uld be believed. She doted on mourning for John Brown.
royal- outings ‘are tremendous affairs,
with caparisoned horses, dragon flags,
and the sacred fan and umbrella. The
nobles are a bad and cruel class,/accord
ing to all accounts of them; the Vifflcials
and magistrates are ‘•lH. rary.’” .Liter
ature has rrom time immemorial been
held in honor in Corea, from whence
the Japanese adopted printing in the
twelfth century, when a work of the
Budhist canon was printed from wooden
blocks. “A Corean book is known
which dates authentically from the
period 1317-1324, over a century before
the earliest printed book known in
Europe.” The Coreans are Budliists,
but Shamanism has never lost its hold
upon them, and the old gods are rever
enced still, just as the old myths remain
in modem Greece. The air is not
empty for a Corean, and every month
has its three unlucky days, the 5th, the
15th and the 25th. The worship of
ancestors and the Chinese system of
ethics, or Confucianism, are their rul
ing principles, and the fulfilment of the
parental and filial relations in an ad
mirable maimer is the distinguishing
■virtue of the hermit race.
Kamenameba’s War-Cloak.
The Sandwich Island chiefs used to
wear on ceremonious occasions cloaks
made of feathers. Each feather was
fastened separately into a loop of fine
string, so that the inside of the cloak
resembled a closely woven net. So
smoothly were the feathers laid on the
surface that the cloak appeared as a
rieh, glossy fabric. Miss Cummings,
in her recent work of the kingdom of
Hawaii, entitled “The Fire Fountain,”
gives the following description of the
featliercloak of the great Kamehameha,
which is still worn as a coronation robe:
“One very rare and precious feather
was n served by the hunters for the
king, who alone had the privilege of
wearing a cloak of these glossy, golden
treasures.
The bird which yields this priceless
treasure is Oo, or royal bird, a species
of honeysucker, peculiar to certain
mountainous districts of these isles. It
is of a glossy black, and its tiny golden
feathers are underneath the wing, one
on either side.
“The birds are now very rare, though
the method of gathering the annual
harvest does not involve their destruc
tion. It was the great Kamehameha I.
who first thought of saving their lives,
and ordered the bird-catchers to set the
birds free when they had plucked the
two coveted feathers.
“The feathers are only an inch long,
sharp-pointed and very delicate. Five
sell for a dollar and a half. Kameha-
meha’s war cloak is said to represent
all the feathers collected by eight or
ten successive chiefs.
One of these feathered cloaks had
descended to the late king. It was a
square of six feet; and when the well-
beloved died in his prime, and lay in
state at the Iolani palace, he was laid
on this priceless cloth of gold.
“At the bidding of his father, it was
wrapped round him as a kingly shroud.
‘He is the last of our race,’ said the
weeping chief; ‘it is his. ’ So the cloak,
which, according to Hawaiian estimate,
was valued at $100,000, was buried
with him who alone was entitled to
wear it.”
Tongairo, an active volcano in the
centre of the North island, was in vio
lent eruption on the 26th of April, not
equaled for thirteen years past The
volcano could be seen from Napier, on
the east coast. The promoters of the
company for the export of frozen meat
and dairy produce from Auckland to
London, and elsewhere, are losing no
time and are making necessary prelim
inary arrangements.
In no department of dress lias fash
ion come forth with such assurances as
in the make-up of costumes for summer
pastimes, and particularly in this 1
“loudness” of aress observable in
fancy bathing suits. There is really a
saucy look about this sort of toilet, and
there are sober thinking people who
think that the wearers of fancy bathing
suits trangress the bounds of propriety.
But yvho can have the heart to frown
upon all this artistic taste so bewitch-
ingly- expressed? Not the lovers of
true art. No doubt the wearers of
these artistic suits take refuge behind
the French proverb, chacun a son gcut,
and boldly declare that Miss Flora
McFlimsey, and Powers’s , “Greek
Slave,” resemble each other in having
nothing to wear. What can be more
appropriate than scant apparel and ease
of limbs when people are playing the
parts of mermaids and mermen? How
ever, in spite of all disparaging re
marks, fancy bathing suits will cer
tainly be the rule rather tlian the
exception this summer.
Among the leading styles in this
new direction may be mentioned- a
French bathing dress recently
for a wealthy Washington '
will rusticate at Newport di
The jacket is made of Jersey w!
It is pale pink, with an embi
edge of myrtle leaves. This gal
extends well over the hips, and al
though having the appearance of fitting
closely, it is really so elastic that ample
freedom is permitted the body. The
trousers are made of the same material
but are cf a pale blue hue. These are
very short, coming to the top of the
knees, whence falls a lace ruffle, pro
ducing a pretty effect. Long silk hose
of a creamy white hue are worn over
fine cotton ones and fastened very
firmly to the lining of the trousers.
The shoes are white canvas gaiters,
laced with pale blue silk cord; the head
is adorned with a silk turban, lightly
put together and lined with oiled silk.
This costume is very showy and yet it
is not at all bold. The bathing blanket
accompanying the suit is made of Turk
ish toweling of a pale tan hue richly
embroidered. This is thrown over the
shoulders of the bather, while she runs
the gauntlet of curious eyes between
the beach and the bathing house.
Alas! for the beauties with defects of
figure. Such are obliged to abandon
the idea of wearing a Jersey bathing
basque, but they do not have to con
tent themselves with the roomy house.,
Fashion comes forward and 4 conceals
physical imperfections in the most ap
proved manner. Thanks is due to the
French for the cleverly contriveddhode
called “the padded bathing suit.” Of
course there is not a lady in the world
who could possibly have the courage to
say that she bathed in a- padded suit.
At all events there is a good sale for
the stuffed-bathing costumes, and the
lookers on are no wiser for this little
deception! Fitjlikm is as artistic "hi
as though there was no padding. The
trousers are of serge, some bright hue,
usually searlet, meeting at the knees,
flesh colored fine worsted hose ' 1 * '
silk ones, with embroidered
Everything is charmingly projiBrtioned
and so snourely Held in place that the
suit may well be called “Perfection.”
The basque padding is equally well
done. The material is fine nuns’ veil
ing of any mode and hue. This style
of bathing outfit is necessarily made to
order, and is therefore, somewhat ex
pensive—a mere trifle to the moneyed
beauties who desire to look .then best
while enjoying a frolic in the whirl
and tumble of the dashing breakers.
A remarkably pretty bathing suit
introduced by the English lias the
jacket close fitting, with pointed front
and postillion back; the fabric is fine
ladies’ cloth of some.dark color and em
broidered in light shades; the sleeves
come to the elbows, where falls a ruffle
of lace; long cotton gloves protect the
arms and a portion of the hands; the
drawers are cut wide and are gathered
in a band where they are buttoned just
below the knee; the hose are of fine
scarlet yarn, and the white canvas
slippers are strapped over the instep.
The most striking feature in this de
sign is the low-cut neck, which is pret
tily filled in with oil silk, finely pleated
into a double tucker, the edge bound
with narrow blue or scarlet braid.
Freedom of arms and legs are abso
lutely necessary to make graceful strokes
in the water, and hence it is impossible
for good swimmers to wear corsets or
any very tight-fitting garment while
enjoying a frolic with old Neptune; and
yet a handsome dress for an expert
swimmer has a very snug appearance,
and this is effected by the use of ex
ceedingly elastic materials, the best of
which is silk webbing or knitted cloth,
which gives ease to the motion of the
limbs.
Fancy bathing costumes often pro
duce a charmingly picturesque array
of colors. Satin, silk, and wool, and
all silk materials are manufactured
now so as to withstand to a great ex
tent dampness and even the.“wringing
wet.” As fashion favors artistic
touches of finery in the make-up of
suits for wear among the breakers,
bathing will be fashionable this sum
mer.
of promiscuous siaugh-
iarkable for the high esteem
it sometimes raised its chief
In the famous war be-
B citizens of- Ghent and the
Earl #f-Flanders there was no worse
episode than when the Lord of d’An-
ghien, took the town of Grammont by
storm one fine Sunday in June, and
showed no mercy to man, woman or
child. Numbers of old people and
women were burned in their beds, and
the town, being set on fire in more than
two hundred places, was reduced to
ashes, even the churches included.
“Fair son,” the Earl of Flanders said,
greeting his returning relative, “you
are g vacant warrior, and, if it pleases
Goodwill be a gallant one; you have
n-handsome beginning. ” History
ft but rejoice that the young
dukffe first feat of arms was also his
last, and that, not many days after
ward, he lost his life in a skirmish. Of
course all persons found within a town
taken Dy assault were by the rule of
war: liable to be killed. Only by a
timely surrender could the besieged
cherish any hope for their lives or fort
unes; and even the offer of a surrender
iglit be refused, and an unconditional
ibmission be insisted on>4nstead.
lefe is no darker blot on the charac
ter of Edward HI. than the savage
disposition he showed when, with re
spect to the brave defenders of Calais,
he was only restrained from - exercising
his'Stiict war right of putting them to
death by the representations made to
him of the danger he might incur of a
» inary retaliation m the future.
was in general a strong feeling
against making ladies prisoners of war;
nor could the French ever forgive the
English .for allowing the soldiers of the
Black Prince to take prisoner the
Duchess of Bourbon, mother of the
king, and to obtain a ransom for her
release. To the French appears to have
been dim whatever advance was made
in the more humane treatment of 'pris
oners. The Spaniards and Germans
wets , wont to fasten tteir prisoners
'with -iron chains; but of the French,
Froissart says: “They neither imprison
their captors nor put fetters on them.
A dhe Germans do, in order to obtain
a better ransom. !Jhe Germans are
without pity or honor, and ought never
to receive any quarter. The French,
entertained all their prisoners well and
ransomed them ' courteously, without
befog too. hard on them.” In this
spirit Bertrand du Guesclin let his
English prisoners go at large on their
fhroie for their ransom, a generosity
toward their foes which the English
on xp "occasion knew how to requite.
Frpissart gives one very striking lllus-
m of the greater barbarity of the
Spaniards towards their prisoners,
which should not be forgotten in en
deavoring to form a general estimate
of the character of the military type of
the palmiest days of chivalry.
|£rar between Castile and Portugal,
enever the barbarous Castilians tools
any prisoners, they tore out their eyes,
tore of their arms and legs, and in such
a plight Sent them back to Lisbon. It
highly for the conduct of tlu>
LisboaerS that they did not retaliate
such treatment, but allowed their pris
oners every comfort they could expect
in their circumstances.
Life of the Tender Cadet.
always be erect, with eyes straight to
the front, and that I must Always sa
lute my superiors. Then I was sent
upstairs to my quarters.
“There were nine other Plebs in the
room with me, and the daily routine
was about as follows:
“At 6 o’clock we were compelled to
be up and dressed ; roll-call- at 6:30.;
then back to the quarters, where our
bed had to be arranged against the
walls. If the edges of the mattresses,
pillows, sheets and quilts varied a hair’s-
breadth from the perpendicular they
were kicked down by the officer of the
day and had to be rebuilt. Breakfast
at the mess-hall at 8 o’clock; study un
til noon; dinner; more study; supper at
5; more study until 9 o’clock, when the
gun was fired. Then all fights had to
be extinguished and all hands iii bed.
“Cadets bent on hazing would bring
us up ‘all standing’ a hundred times a
day, and then would stand in groups
and laugh at us. Then they would
make us nop around the room, and we
had one fellow who was always com
pelled to hop from the chair to the
mantelpiece and then to the trunk
Once in a while they were extra funnv,
and then we were compelled to person
ate animals. One would be a monkey,
another an alligator, another an eagle,
another a canary, and so on; and then
we were,compelled to chatter, grunt,
bellow, squawk and sing, while the
cadets made remarks about us and
poked tobacco or crackers through the
imaginary bars of our alleged cages.”
“How did you come to leave?”
“I stood it as long as I could, and
then when the examination took place
I was so sick of West Point that I made
up my mind to be ‘found. ’ I purposely
tripped up on geography, and that night
when theyjjame into my room and be
gan to haze me I smacked one of them
in the nose. Then I accepted an invi
tation to go to ‘Fort Put’ in the morn
ing. I had the nightmare that night,
andwhen I awoke I ascertained that I
had "crossed the river to Garrison’s aud
was on my way to Now York.”
Ciloves, Neckwear and Hosiery.
A Prehistoric Cemetery.
Two "miles from Mandan, on the
bluffs near the junction of the Hart
and Missouri rivers, is an old cemetery
of fully one hundred acres in extent,
filled with bones of a giant race. This
vast city of the dead lies just east of
the Fort-Lineoln road. The ground
has the appearance of having been filled
with trenches piled full of dead bodies,
both man and beast, and covered with
several feet of earth. In many places
mounds from 8 to 10 feet high, and
some of them 100 feet or more in length,
have been thrown-up and are filled with
bones, broken pottery, vases of various
bright-colored flint, and agates. The
pottery is of a dark material, beauti
fully-decorated, delicate in finish, and
as light as wood, showing the work of
a people skill* d in the arts and possessed
of a high state of civilization. This
ljas evidently been a grand battle-field,
where thousands of men and horses
have fallen. Nothing like a systematic
or intelligent exploration has been
made, as only little holes two or three
feet in depth have been dug in some of
the mounds, but many parts of the ana
tomy of man and beast, and beautiful
specimens of broken pottery and other
curiosities, have been found in these
feeble efforts at excavation. Five
miles above Mandan, on the opposite
side of the Missouri, is another vast
cemetery, as yet unexplored. We asked
an aged Indian what his people knew
of these ancient graveyard). He ans
wered: “Me know nothing about them.
They were here before the red man.”
“Through political influence I ob
tained an appointment to a West Point
cadetship, and after I received the ne
cessary papers from Washington I
packed my little gripsack and started
for the Academy. I got thereat about
dark and reported to the Commandant.
He told me to report again in the morn
ing. At daybreak I arose and went to
the office. The Commandant gave me
letter to the Board of Surgeons, who
were to examine me as to my physical
paraphernalia.
‘Take off your clothes!’ commanded
a man full of brass from his boots to
his bangs.
■All of them?’ I asked, shaking
with fear, until I felt like a bag of mar
bles.
“ ‘Yes, and be quick about it.’
“I disrobed, and was then ushered
into a room where sat the three men in
uniform, and looking as stem as the
rudder of a canal-boat.
“They made me hop around the room
on one foot, then on the other; then
they opened my mouth and looked all
around it as if they were hunting ffir
something that I had stolen. Then
they held up pieces of glass and asked
me conundrums about the colors, and
then they made me read fine and large
type at different distances. Finally
one got in front of me and pounded on
my chest while the other listened at my
back to hear if there were any stolen
goods inside, 1 suppose.
‘Am I all right?’ I asked. I hoped
and prayed that I wasn’t. I would
have given $10 if I had been found
guilty of the mumps, measles, whoop
ing-cough and all the other diseases in
the dictionary.
“ ‘Yes,’ answered the chief examiner;
‘put on your clothes.’
“I put my clothes on, and then was
given in charge of a regular, who led
me across the yard to the cadets’ quar
ters.
“I was dressed to kill, and had on a
fight overcoat and a plug hat. That
hat proved my ruin. Heads were
poked out of every window and I was
greeted with such comforting yells as
‘Shoot it!’ ‘Come from under that hat
and look at ill’ etc., etc. I was per
spiring so that I left a trail behind me.
I was led to the second floor of the
main building and the regular knocked
at the door. It was opened and the
regular left me there all alone and se
ceded. I was grabbed by one of the
six cadets in the room, my hat was
knocked off, my hands were pressed to
my sides and I was told to place my
nose against a tack driven in the wall.
Then I was plied with such questions
as these:
“ ‘Where is your trunk?’
“ ‘At home.’
“ ‘What’s m it?’
“ ‘I d-don’t know.’
“ ‘Is there a regiment of artillery in
it?’
“I laughed.
“Fatal laughl In doing it I took my
hands from my sides and forgot all
about the tack in the wall. I was
grabbed, placed in position and told
that if I dared to move even an eyelash
again I would be locked up for the rest
of the term and be fed on bread, or
bread and water, minus the bread.
“Then I was plied with all sorts of
ludicrous questions—very laughable,
but I didn’t dare to even shudder. I
was instructed as to my duties, was
told that my hands must always appear
in public soldered to the seams of my
pants; that my chin must always be
nailed to my chest; that my head must
Abroad the mousquetalre gloves are
not worn, ladies having tired of them,
and preferring the buttoned wrists, or
the-jersey webbing wrists. On this
side, however, there is a great demand
for the loose wrinkled glove, and they
sell at so low a price (as everytliing
does when'on the wane in Fashiondom,
that everybody can wear them. Great
latitude is shown in the matter of
gloves, however, for the demand is
equally great for three and ten buttons,
the seven and twelve button lenj " ‘
mousquetaire.
Among the novelties are long taffeta.-
gloves with jersey wrists, some being of
the double spun silk, others" single,
some long enough to reach the elbows,
bjihers nearly to the shoulders; these
gloves are also found in mousquetaire.
Undressed kids will. be worn more
this summer than-last, and come in all
popular lengths and colors. A novelty
for hot days and pretty hands is the
undressed kid mitt with a thumb but
notingers. Lisle-thread gloves, so cool
and pUtaaant to the r hut u*Lu>h
wear so poorly, are said to be of more
lasting quality this season. These have
the jersey wrists also in lace or plain
tops. Colors in glovesare electric blue,
black, all of the shades of brown and
gray, buff, strawberry, shrimp-pink
aud green.
In wraps the variety is as great as in
bonnets. Tiny capes just outlining the
waist, cut away to'show the trimmed
waist, are worn en suite, and side by
side with dolmans that are short in the
back but with long tab fronts, these
made of broehe velvet or velvet bro
caded grenadine, or Ottoman silk; lace,
satin, jet passementerie and velvet rib
bon, all employed in trimming these
magnificent wraps.
Everything for the neck is beautiful,
whether it be the fine linen collar with
its bent points simply hemstitched, or
with a fine vine of embroidery, and the
comers filled in, or the collar of same
shape with a needlework edge and cor
ners, made on a habit, and cuffs to
match, or the collarette of lace, either
in pointed berthe shape or military
style with straight baud over the col
lar of dress, and a flat lace slightly
fulled for the curve of the shoulder.
Kerchiefs come in every color, the
ficelle gray being very popular ; some
wrought in silk spots, the most expen
sive by hand, and finished with a two-
inch hem, and lace the same color.
These kerchiefs are admirable in warm
days in place of a collar, worn close
around the neck, caught with the lace
bar. Ruching is again worn inside the
neck-band of dress, and are now edged
with the finest of lace, either flat Va
lenciennes, Oriental or Pompadour.
The ruche often trims the edge of front
of waist a finger’s length. The full
Pompadour rhehes are worn by very
slender ladies with long necks quite as
much as in winter.
The Northern Boundary
The whole of this boundary, from
Michigan to Ala°ka, has been distinctly
marked by the British and American
Commissioners; and some interesting
details have been published of the way
in which this difficult task was accom
plished. The boundary is marked by
stone cairns, iron pillars, wood pillars
earth mounds and timber posts. These
structures vary from five feet in height
to fifteen feet, and there are 385 of them
between the Lake of the Woods and the
base of the Rocky Mountains. That
portion of the boundary which lies east
and west of the Red River Valley is
marked by cast-iron pillars at even mile
intervals. The British place one every
two miles, and the United States one
between each British post. The pillars
are hollow iron castings, and upon the
opposite faces are cast, in letters two
inches high, the inscription, “Conven
tion of London,” and “October 20,
1818.”
The average weight of each pillar
when completed is eighty-five pounds.
With regard to the wooden posts, the
Indians frequently cut them down for
fuel, and nothing but iron will last very
long. Where the line crosses lakes,
mountains of stone have been built, the
bases being in some places eighteen feet
under water, and the tops projecting
some eight feet above the surface of the
lake at high-water mark. In forests,
the fine is marked by felling the timber
a rod wide and clearing away the un
derbrush. As might well be imagined,
the work of cutting through the tim
bered swamps was very great, but it
has all been carefully and thoroughly
done. The piilare are all set four feet
in the ground in the ordinary cases, with
their inscription faces to the north and
southland the earth is well settled and
stamped - about them. The iron posts
afford little temptation for dislodgment
and conveying away by the Indiyns.
Directly west of the Rocky Moun
tains lies a tract of more than 100,000
square miles, named by Major Powell
the “Plateau Province,” which resem
bles no other spot on the globe. It oc
cupies Southern Wyoming, Eastern and
Southern Utah, Northern and Eastern
Arizona, and a narrow strip of West
ern Colorado and New Mexico: but it
is with the southern section—bounded
on the north by the Uinta Mountains
(east of Great Salt Lake), and ending
in Central Arizona—that we have here
to do. On the east is a country of gi
gantic mountain ranges, with fertile
valleys, and perennial streams draining
eventually into the Gulf of Mexico; on
the west is the Great Basin, a low, bar
ren desert broken by short and ragged
ranges, and without any drainage at all,
—a district of salt lakes and brackish
streams sinking in the sand. The pla
teau district is a lofty table-land, mostly
from one to two miles above the sea-
the barrenest of desert, at levels under
7,000 feet intensely hot aud dry, but
cool, moist, forest-clad, and grassy on
the higher planes. But itscharaeteris-
tic features are the Titanic architect
ural forms into which the elements have
chiseled the face of the laud, and the
clearness with which it tells the story
of its own growth and disintegration.
From whatever direction approached
the scene is one of startling novelty.
Instead of the gently sloping-valleys, or
the mountain ridges and cohical peaks,
with which all are familiar, the eye be
holds a succession of horizontal terraces
and platforms, each ending abruptly in
inaccessible cliffs aud dropping sheer
upon other platforms “many hundreds
or even two thousand feet below. ” The
walls of these cliffs are not chaotic in
shaiie and neutral in color, as commonly
with us, but symmetrically carved and
sculptured, and gorgeous with the rich
est hues of stoue and earth. Nor do
they present unbroken fronts like the
mountain fortresses we know: the infi
nite rills of rain or melting snow and
the sand and gravel they bear along
have channeled them into deep pro°-
montories, and interlacing, have cut off
grand “buttes” or hillocks of stone,
sometimes a mile or more from the
main body of the cliffs. Immense as
are some of these buttes, they sink into
insignificance when viewed from a dist
ance, and seem but moldings or fiuials
on the colossal mass behind. The ge
neral appearance of the country is thus
described by Capt. Dutton: “They
stretch their tortuous courses across
the land in ail directions, yet not with
out system. Each cliff marks the
boundary of a geographical terrace, and
marks also thetenninationof some geo
logical series Of strata, the edges of
which are exposed like courses of ma
sonry in the scarpwalls of the palisades.
In the distance may be seen the spec
tacle of cliff rising above and beyond
cliff, like a colossal stairway leading
from the torrid plains below to the do
main of the clouds above. Very won
derful at times is the.-sculpture of these
majestic walls. Tne resemblances to
architecture are not fanciful or meta
phorical, but are real and vivid; so
niucu so that ovou tho oKf«rjouotid ex
plorer is sometimes brougut toa sudden
halt aud filled with amazement by the
apparition of forms as definite and elo
quent as those of art. Each geological
formation exhibits in its cliffs a dis
tinct style of architecture which is not
reproduced among the cliffs of other
formations, and these several styles
differ as much as those which are culti
vated by different races of men. The
character which appeals most strongly
to the eye is the coloring. Subdued
colors are wholly wanting here, and in
their place we behold brilliant belts,
which are intensified rather than alle
viated by alternating belts of gray.
Like the architecture, the colors are
characteristic of the geological forma
tions. They culminate in intensity in
the l'ermian aud Lower Trias, wuere
dark, brownish reds alterate with bauds
of chocolate, purple, and lavender, so
deep, rich, aud resplendent that a pain
ter would need to be a bold man to
venture to portray them as they are.”
It is not, however, the sculpture or
the coloring of these mighty ledges that
are most valuable to us: we can see
grand works of nature otherwhere, aud
hues as brilliant as these. It is because
her work here is so rigidly and even
monotonously regular, not because it is
bizarre, that we prize it. Look at
those horizontal bands, that stretch
across the buttes in the cut. Every
one of these is a stratum which origi
nally lay unbroken over a vast expanse:
the same strata can be traced for hun
dreds of miles, from the rows of buttes
to the masses from winch they were
separated, and from terrace to terrace.
VV here a platform a thousand feet above
another breaks the continuity, thestrata
are found in the same order at a pro
portionate height above: showing in
fallibly, by their sharp demarcation
from tne strata above aud below, that
they have been broken in two by a slow
upheaval of the surface since they were
deposited, and that there has been no
sudden cataclysm, no grand convulsion
of nature to hasten the slow action of
elemental forces. They are never
mixed ciiaotically with other strata,
never shot iir veins through them, as
though a fierce volcanic upthrow nad
condensed the work of countless cen
turies into a day or an hour. Nor is
this all; the records of organic fife
which they hold imbedded ten the same
story. Tne fossils fouud in any given
band in one extremity of this district
are found in the same proportions m
like bands at the other extremity,
hundreds of miles away,—never mixed
with the organic remains belonging
to other strata, never!" ailing to present
themselves in company with theireha-
racteristie rocks. »
NEWS IN BRIEF,
Franc* lere aie foreigners in
-North Carolina has 2,040 miles of
■railroad.
Montgomery Blair has a spinal af
fection.
i oir N i 11 ? )n wil133,1 f° r America on the
loth of August.
The number of destitute children in
Chicago is 10,000.
i u~S°? necticut was the fi wt State in
tn*3 union to coin money.
—From January 1 to May 31,173 127
immigrants landed in New York.
The total catch of Connecticut river
shad last year numbered 272,903.
The value of the taxable railroad
property of Iowa is $28,334,739.70.
— A Mexican woman 111 years of age
died a few days ago at New Laredo.
Over 25,000,000 of haddocks are
annually “cured” for sale in England.
Mrs. Frances Willard, the temper
ance advocate, has gone to the Sandwich
Islands.
-British capital to the extent of thirty
millions went into Wvoming and Texas
last year. "
—The City Council of Toronto, Can-
ula, has appropriated $50,000 towards a
public library.
The late Sir George Jessel’s will
t ”l,lIS nil1 Pr0I>erty WOrthmore
c , adet . Whitaker’s father has just
$3,000 and a fin|farm. He
was once a slave.
—Duxes, tne murderer, left property* *'
valued at from $8,000 to $12,000, a great/ J
deal of it in western lands.
—Captain Joif& .Ericcson, still hale
and hearty is now, eighty, looks about
seventy and works fftaTsixty.
—The Summer business of New
Hampshire is estimated at from five to ‘
eight millions of dollars annually.
, —More than $1,120,000 has been sent
to the German flood sufferers through a
single house in New York City.
. ~ Preliminary steps have been taken
\f rH h r er D Ctl0r l ?£ a bronze statue of
Martin Luther at Washington, D. C.
Sr>fwvn ® ene . c ? 1 of Montreal hasgiven
to Provide a permanent exhibi
tion in Paris of Canadian productions.
—In 1867 the cost to Boston of each
pupil m public-schools was $29.83; in
toe past year the cost for each was $23. -
29.
.— Sdk culture is attracting consider-
t^rn,^ t ? Qt . 10rl ln , Kansas > where the
leaves f6ed greeJlly 011 Osage orange
—Vermont was at first called New
Connecticut, and took its present njtne
Union 1 * ™ ' v ‘ rt 3au race:t into the
—A bill has passed the Illinois Legis
lature which compels the.erection of air
and escape shafts in the coal m.nes of
the State.
• ® ^f 3 59,000,090 to pay the sala-
c* iu tbe United States,and
on dogs ^ to P ay tl,e government tax
Mr. Matthew Arnold now expects
to visit America this autumn on a lec-
tunng tour of four months, becrinninsr
•" October. " b
Some curious customs are connected
with gloves. For instance, the ceremony
of removing them when entering the
stable of a prince or a great man, or else
forfeiting them or their value to the ser
vant in charge. This is an odd survival
of vassalage, for the removal of the glove
was anciently a mark of submission.
When lands or titles were bestowed,
gloves were given at the same time; and,
when for any reason the lands were for
feited, the offender was deprived of the
right to wear gloves. The same idea
was prevalent in the bestowal of a lady’s
glove, to be worn in the helmet of her
knight, and forfeited by him if her favor
ceased. In hunting the gloves are sup
posed to be removed to-day at the death
of a stag. It was a very ancient form
of acknowledgement to present a pair of
gloves to a benefactor; and white gloves
are still pneunted to the judges at mat-
I *“ . -v - • -•:«*$?-.. ' .»
■ \ i-
W
— Yh . e York papers say that the
new drink is called a dude cocktail and
is made out ol mush, gruel, and chopped
ice and fresh milk '
—Judging from receipts at Key West
thus far, over 50,000 dozen pineapples
will be shipped North from the port of
Key West this year.
—Of the 20,000,000 acres of land in
Ireland only 3,000,000 are under culti
vation, aud even then she exports food
to all quarters of the globe.
—The widow of Senator Henry S.
Lane of Indiana has erected an obelisk
of Aberdeen granite over her husband’s
remains at CrawfordsviUe.
—One year ago there were not over
200 people in Dickey county, Dakota
Now the population Is from 4,000 to 5 -
000 and rapidly increasing. ’
—The $300,000 appropriated by Con
gress for lands ceded to the United
States by the Cherokee Indians has been
paid to Chief Bushyhead.
—Vanderbilt drove Maud S. and Al-
dine one day last week to a heavy road
wagon a mile in 2.15j, eclipsing all pre
vious double-team records.
—2 ofrfi Carolina has four graduates
at IV est Point this year, greater than
that of any other southern state. One
of these stands fifth in a class of fiftv-
two. 3
—Out of 1,343 members of the Massa
chusetts Medical Society, 700 reply
yes,” 400 say “no,” and 23 are indif-
ferent to the question: “Do you favor
the admission of women to the society
on the same terms with men’”
—Some idea of the extent of specula
tion in New York may be gained from
the statement that from January 1 to
May 17 of the present year the sales of
wheat at the Produce Exchange in that
oity amounted to 527,997,500 bushels or
considerably more than the entire cron
of 1882. 1
The United States Fish Commission
has this year distributed throughout
every State and Territory in the Union
80,000,000 white fish, 30,000,000 shaff
and 10,000,000 of the salmonidae species.
The commission has also distributed 12 -
000 German carp. ^ . ’
—'There was a cash balance in the
New Hampshire treasury of $204,622.40
on May 31st, against $0L23&48 at the
same time last year. TH| faym-ablc
showing is largely due tot
of biennial sessions of the 1
The State debt amounts to $3,383 060.-
94. ’
—During the last seven years Brahms
Joachim, Goldschmidt, Spitta, Wullner,
Nottlebohm and other prominent Ger
man musicians Lave been engaged in
editing Breitkopf and Hartel’s complete
edition of the works of Mozart The
task is now completed and comprises 528
genuine works of Mozart, to which will
be added a supplement containing works
not completed by Mozart About one-
third of these works had never before
been in print
A curious deity has been worshiped
for years past by pious Hindoos in the
Temple of Bharata, in the Fyzabad dis
trict, Bengal—a brass casting of the
arms of the old East India Company
The brass used to be bathed and annoint/
ed with sandal-wood oil every day. in
company withrtto xe* of toe Idob, with
all the customary formula of the daily
Hindoo ritual. The priest in chane
was very difficult to convinoaaf his mm-
take, and greatly objected to give up the