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THE SONC OF WHEAT. I hail dreams when days were daScest—in the lonollness of night, I was dreaming of the gleaming and the streaming of the light; And the sod that whispered secrets to the blossom and the leaf Bent mo shimmering, shining sunward to tho splendor of the sheafi The winds that tossed my tresses sang of treasures manifold, And dow and star and sunlight gave their glory to my gold; And I hoard far rejoicing, and the tempest-flags were furled Ami my golden banners rippled all niy riches round the world! I heard the songs of cities, and In tho shadowed della The ringing and the singing of all tho golden bells; For I wove tho blue sky’s beauty, the sunlight and tho rains, In an answer to the valleys and the pleading of'tlie plains. I have sweetened fervid Summers, I have starred the Winter's snow And gladdened homes with garlands, and made the hearth-lire glow; And my story is my glory, and my triumph is complete— They march beneath my banners, to tho thrilling song of wheat. —Frank 1,. Stanton, in Chicago Timos-Herald. Tiieir Wadding Tour. ——* — Xiy Lisczns HYER NEFF. MA’Y, oh, Miss /, Jk Ma’y! Corae an’ see V. r/7 B ca^e ’ Hit’s done yj> M iced now,” called Aunt Mexico from the foot of the stairs. IK L l Mary had just been V/ trying on her gown and veil in her room, but she ran briskly down-stairs in response to the summons, buttoning her wrapper as she came, and followed Mexico into the dining-room where the huge bride’s cake stood in state on a small table. “O-li-h!” cried the girl, rapturously, “I never dreamed you could do it like that, Aunt Mex. Why, it must be three feet tall! One, two, three— there are seven cakes! And the icing.” Mexico beamed with pleasure at the result of her skill. Mary gave Mexico’s fat arm an af fectionate squeeze. “You’re a genius, that’s what you are, you dear old soul. I wish I could take you with me, to morrow.” “Po’cliile, I reckon yuh does, honey. But, la, yore ma, she couldn’t git used tuh no other cookin’ now, no how'. An’ she might git one of them no ’count yallah Jeffasons,” “I’ll let you stay, auntie, if yonw'ill work me one charm! I do want the rain to stop. I don’t w’ant to be the unhappy bride on whom the sun does not shine. And the rain has come down for so long. ” “I ain’t no voudou, honey, an’ I don’t know no spell fur de weather, no way. But Ido hope hit will clear up foh yore sake an’ all de res’. De rib ber aiu’ gwine stan’ no mo’ foolishness now r . I see de Bellflowah go down dis mohnin’, look lak she walkin’ on top de bank now.” “Oh, dear!” cried Mary, running to the front window. “I have been so busy I haven’t looked out for three days. How high the river is! There is a flat-boat going down—on a level with the bark! Oh, I wish it would clear up! What if the boat couldn’t make a landing to-night?” 9 “Well, honey, ef de ribber don’rise no higher’n what it is now, dey won’ be no damage,” said Mexico, sooth ingly, as she w alked away toward the kitchen, with a last proud glance at the white tower on the small table. Mary stood at the window, with a face full of alarm, watching the yellow, turbid flood, that now and then splashed over its hanks. The young girl had never seen tha river so high but once before, and she rememberod that experience with bit terness. While she watched, a mud-spatted equestrian galloped down the road and stopped at the front gate, springing from his panting horse and entering hurriedly. Mary met him at the front door. “Why, Mr. Burnett!” she cried, “what brings you here in such a hur ry?” “I came to give you the warning, Miss Mary. The river’s on an awful tear; risen two feet in thirty hours. Cincinnati’s having a flood, and we’ll have to get ready for the worst. It’s going to rise here six feet, anyway, and no telling how much more.” “Oh, dear! And how soon?” “Bight away. No, I thank you! I must be going, for I promised to give the warning at every house along the river road. You’d better prepare for a siege.” “Tliauk you, thank you, Mr. Bur nett, a thousand times. I hardly know what to do about it. It is so sudden —and so awful!” “There’s more folks feels that a-way, hut the ain’t a-waiting on them! Good day to you,” and the visitor was gone, leaving a pool of black water where he had stood. Two women were coming down-stairs as Mary closed the door. “Mother, Bettie, you don’t know what an awful thing is going to hap pen!” she said, with quivering lips. “Yes, we hoard what he said, dear,” replied the mother. “It is worse for yon than any one else. If it would only hold off until to-morrow, I could be reconciled.” “What shall we do?” wailed Bettie, with white lips. The mother sat down in the hall chair and folded her hands. Bettie went to the parlor window and looked at the river. She gave a frightened cry, and: “It's coming over the bank now! Oli. mamma, what shall we do?” Mrs. Galt went to the window and turned away instantly. “We must do something at ones,” she said, desperately. “I will send Mose to the quarry for some men to lift the furniture.” It did not take Mose long to bring men from the quarry cabins, for they had been idle for two day on account of the flood in the quarry. Then the pleasant wide rooms of the old-fashioned house, now decked out in holiday attire for the weeding, pre sented a scene of vandalism distress ing to the hearts of those who had worked so hard to arrange them. The heavy carpets were ruthlessly torn up, the piano was hoisted upon wooden chairs, the dining-table was extended to its full length, and piled with ear pets and furniture half way to the ceil ing. The kitchen stove was carried up-stairs and set up in a bedroom. Within half an hour the house was unrecognizable. As Mary came through the hall with a pile of hooks in her arm, there was a vigorous clang of the old knocker, and then a young man entered. “Oh, George!” she' exclaimed, put ting her books on the stairs, “isn’t it awful!” He took her in his arms and kissed her troubled face before he replied: “But we shall be married just tho same, my darling. Wo still have each other. Now, what can I do to help you? We cannot spare a minute until everything is safe.” “I think we need wood for the fires and the cook stove upstairs the most of anything now,” she said, gathering up her books. The young man started back through the house, but before his footsteps ceased to sound on tho bare floors, a thin stream of water crept nnder the front door and flowed down the hall. Before Mary had reached the top stair there was a sound as of waves lapping on the door, and ten minutes later a soft swish upon the low window panes showed the insidious flood rapping for entrance. In a few minutes the family had to retire to an upper room to escape tile water on the lower floors, and there they sat in grave council over the sud deu change of affairs. “There is only one thing certain in this state of things,” said George Campbell, and that is, that there must lie a wedding here to-night. It is bad luck to put off weddings, and we don’t want to begin life that way. ” “And will you send for the minis ter?” asked Mrs. Galt. “Where are your boats?” “Oh, we forgot them! They are tied at the boat-house—if they are not washed away. Why didn’t we think to have them brought over to the house?” “But who thought it was going to rise so fast ?” groaned the mistress. There was sjtill a great deal to do, and the water, after breaking the em bankment, which was a low one, seemed to stand at a depth of two feet in the house. The men eould get about iu it with rubber boots, and were hard at work preparing for the worse. The farming implements must he hoisted above danger, and food for the cattle must be secured. A bridge of planks was made downstairs for the women, and they were soon busy carrying their household goods to the upper floor. There was an old, dim lino on the outside of the house, almost coincident with the ceil ing, that marked the line of the greatest flood on record, hut that was forty years before. The occasional freshet had never since gone higher than the hall wainscot—about three feet. The afternoon wore slowly away, and toward evening Mary saw a num ber of buggies laden with guests for her wedding come down the hillside road, stop at the sight of the yellow flood that rushed with swift current over the river road, then turn aud re trace their way to the safe highlands from which they came. George had gone for the minister, and an upper front chamber had been made as at tractive as its superabundance of fur niture would allow, for the wedding, but no guest came, and when six o’clock struck, George had not re turned. The three women sat down forlornly to the hot supper that Mexico spread on the top of an ancestral chest in the back hall, but Mary was so anxions about her lover that she could not cat. After supper they sat at the front wiu dows and watched the signs of destruc tion that began to float down the river. At nine o’clock they lay down with dread misgivings, but until nearly midnight there was no sound but the washing of the water against the walls, and the bumping of loose planks from the bridge in the hall against the wainscot. At midnight someone shouted for Mrs. Galt, and she answered from the window. To her surprise he seemed to be very little below her own level. “Hello!” said the visitor, and it was George’s voice. “I have been helping up at the landing. is un der water there, and the folks are moving up to the hill. They will have to camp out. We took the sick folks up to the stone school-house and fixed them as well as we could. Don’t you think you had better go up to your sister on the ridge? I have a boat here, and the water is going to he higher than it was ever known to be before. ” “Oh, no, we are safe here, and we have plenty of everything. We must stay by the place and the stock,” said Mrs. Galt. “The water has come up fast, though. We were worried about you. Aren’t you coming in?” “1 don’t see how I eait. The water is over the front door and not up to the veranda roof. Are the hurst's tied in the stable? They are making h good deal of noise.” “I supoose they are. Do yon think the water lias reached them?” “I will go and see,” said the young man, and he paddled away. Mrs. Galt remained nt the window, looking with alarm at the rapidly ris ing water. A man in a queer little craft crept in over the front yard. “Sistor Galt!” he called. “Why, brother Meeks, is that you?” she answered. “Yes, sister. I remember about the wedding, but at that hour we were all so busy in fighting the water that I could not come. This is the first mo ment that I have had. Are you all safe?” “Oh, yes, aud very comfortable. We could not hav# the wedding yet. It. was a cruel timo for this calamity to come, bnt. I suppose we never could And the right time for misfortune. ” George came around the house at this moment, and was greeted by the minister. “All, Mr. Meeks, you are just the man we want. Now it is not quite midnight, and if we can get the bride to appear, we shall be married yet to-day. Can you climb a post?” “I am afraid not, under such disad vantages, But I can sit here and per form the ceremony if you and the young lady will come to the edge of the roof,” said the minister. George tied his boat to tho corner column of the. veranda, and began to climb to the roof. The girls had been aroused by the voices, and were ready to appear when he reached the top. “I let the poor horses out,” he said to Mrs. Galt. “They were up to their necks in water, and would have been drowned by morning. They can swim to the mountain now. The fences won’t trouble them. Now I want to make sure of my wife before anything olse happens. Come, Mary, hero is tho minister,” and he drew her gently 'out upon the flat roof. Her mother and sister followed, aud tho young pair went to the edge where they could see Mr. Meeks. He had been unable to find a boat, and had made the peril trip in a horse trough, where ho now sat rooking on tho high waves of the flood. The sky was heavily overcast with clouds; there was no light save a lamp in the window; tho stanch old house was rocking alarmingly, but the voice of the clergyman was none the less im pressive as he pronounced the marriage ceremony over the young couple bend ing above him, and before the clock within struck twelve they were man aud wife. It was not a joyous wedding nor were there there attendant festivities, but the young husband drew liis wife to his side with a whispered sentence, that made her feel that she had a pro tector in this hour of disaster. The rain began to fail again and Mrs. Galt insisted that Mr. Meeks should try to enter and stay until daylight. Ac cordingly he paddled around to the woodshed roof and climbed over it and through the kitchen attic, the water having risen within a few minutes so much that this was easily accom plished. Mexico had made a pot of hot coffee, and had an appetizing lunch ready for the tired and hungry adven turers. She had carried up the abundant delicacies that had been provided for the wedding, and she served some of these things now, saying that this was the only wedding supper the young folks would have. For a few minutes, in the warmth and cheer and lively talk, the dread situation was forgotten, but a crash below, a lingering,resonant crash, called everyone’s attention. “It’s the piano, ” said Mrs. Galt. “It has been floating for a long time, and now it. has bumped the ceiling. It crashed into the big mirror some time ago.” “Then everything down-stairs is ruined,” said Bettie. “Oh, yes,” returned her mother, calmly. “The only thing I ask now is to have our lives spared.” A hoarse, deep whistle rent the air very near the house, and the group looked wonderingly at each other. “It is the boat going up,” said George, “and she has come over here to avoid the current. It is fearfully swift in the river.” The lights of the boat had a friendly look as they passed, and for the time the feeling of desolation passed, but soon the darkness was unrelieved again. A few minutes later a great wave dashed against the house, that swayed it back and forth, and sent the enps on the impromptu table spinning to the floor. The little party looked at one another, with a white panic in each face. Could it mean—another wave struck them, and the room tipped slightly backward, the occu pants catching wildly at any thing in reach, as they slid toward the wall. The third wave came, the last from the passing steamboat—the house wavered, tipped forward, then careen ed, and turned upon one side. “To the roof! To the roof! Quick, before she gets out into the current!” shouted George, catching Mary and Bettie in his arms, as they were thrown in a heap against the bureau. The lamp had gone out in its fall, but the stove was overturned and its door had fallen open, though none of the brands bad yet fallen out. It was a wild struggle for the next few minutes, as the bewildered in mates groped in the dark for the roof ladder, amliiuding it by pure accident, for no one knows where to look for familiar objects in a house that has turned on its side, the panic-stricken people climbed out and clung to the railing along the ridge of the roof. Fortunately the house was drawn out into the current, but gently wab bled down the road, lodging occasion ally in it tree top or bumping against a building that stid stood on its founda tion. As it tilted from side to side the ■furniture slid across the slanting floor with an ominous crash. Filially, af ter an hour or two, the building righted itself so that tlie shivering occupants, who had no time to protect themselves against the rainy March night, could sit in the flat square in side the railing of the roof. Mary clung tightly to her husband, who was the light and courage of the party. After they had gotten over the first shock of tlieir disaster, George tried to encourage tin- timid ones by assur ing them that they were in no immedi ate danger, and that when daylight came they would surely be rescued. “The ri'ver has been rising fast above and spreading over the bottoms,” lie explained, “and when it was crowded into our narrow valley it rose into this 110 id. As soon as we get down to the Point at Peiiuyj'ackei’s Bend, where there is a wide flat, we shall most likely strand, and we can soon be res cued! I know everybody at the bend, anyhow. My Uncle George owns the liole place.” “I think those lights ahead are from Peunypaeker’s now,” said Mr. Meeks. “I don’t think we can have drifted so far as that,” replied George, “al though the current is swift even here. But we are sure to be in sight of the binding by daybreak. I think we are riding so steady now that I might go down into tlie rooms and 1 get the women some shawls. Where I would I find something, Mstry?” ‘ “Oh, uo, no! Stay right hfre. We shall surely go under if you leave ns,” oried both girls. "And you never could find anything, anyhow.” “I know what I can find, then, and that is the bedclothing. I can pull it off the beds. Some good quilts would be a great comfort.” George was not a person to wait for the execution of any plan, so it was but a few minutes until each member of the group was wrapped in a warm blanket. “I don’t know but wo might ns well all he drowned,” whispered Mrs. Galt, “for I don’t know how we’ll live if wo don’t. Everything is swept away.” “We haven’t lost the house yet,” said George, cheerily. “Nor have wo any of us lost our faith in God yet,” said the minister, who had lost no opportunity to admin ister consolation and cheer through that fearful ride. “Don’t you see the light of the dawn, over behind the hills?” The tired family eagerly watched the pale light as it revealed the river broadened to a lake, and filled with the wrecks of other homes, tho bodies of horses and cattle, large trees that had been torn up by the roots, and now and then a ghastly something passed them that had yesterday been a human being. And then, just before them, not half a mile away, the long arm of Pennypacker’s Point reached out into the river as if to intercept them. “Your uncle’s house is high and dry,” said Mrs. Galt, looking at the great brick house that crowned the spur. “Yes,” returned George, “and we shall get there in time for breakfast. There is a boat going into the landing, tho Ben Morgan, I think. Now, when she starts out she will come round this way to avoid the ripple, and the waves she makes will beach us pretty near the landing. After that we are all right.” Every one was now too intent in watching their uncertain progress to talk. The Ben Morgan made her stop at the submerged landing, pulled out, aud after a disappointing start out toward the current, pointed her nose into the still water of the little hay. A high wave left her beak and the castaways held their breath in suspense as they watched its curve coming toward them. It rolled nearer and nearer and dis appeared under the house. The build ing rose on its swell, rocked unstead ily, careened—and rode in to the shore! When the third wave had come aud receded, the voyagers found that 'they were once more on terra firma, and in less than eight feet of water. “Thank the Lord!” exclaimed Mrs. Galt, with the first tears that she had shed streaming down her cheeks. “Now we are sure of our lives at any rate. ” George was wildly waving his red and greeti quilt as a signal to some one at the landing, who immediately put off in a boat, and who recognized George as lie came within speaking distance. “It is my cousin, Henry Penny packer,” said George. “Hello, Hen ry, how are you?” “What are you running off with that house for?” shouted Henry. “I’m on my wedding tour,” re turned George, as he drew near. “We’ve just come down for breakfast with you in our own conveyance. If yon can shin the post, I will come down to the second floor. Come, all of you, we are safe now; we can go down to the rooms again.” The bed-rooms presented a strange conglomeration of furniture, clothing, firewood, food, dishes, books and bed ding which had slid from side to side of the rooms until they were hope lessly blended. The girls found a few toilet articles, and made a very presentable appearance. Henry Pen nypacker was deiighted to meet his new relatives, and invited them over to the house in a most cordial manner. George’s boat was now hanging from the veranda roof beside Brother Meeks’s horse trough, and these, with Henry’s boat, served to carry tbe party over to tbe hospitable home that was open to them, and where their kind reception put them quite at ease. Henry sent out a man with a stout cable to tie the house to a tree, that the next passing boat might not float it away, and then the visi tors were invited to a royal breakfast. They recounted the uiglit’s exper ience to tiie hosts, George Campbell ending tbe story with: “After all, we are rich beside our neighbors who have lost all. We have only to tow our bouse back and begin again, for, thank the Lord, there are none of us missing. And I’m sure that, though we hadn’t a wedding reception, we had a wedding tour!”—The White Ele phant. lii h Lone Island. Peter W. Green is tlie veteran chief of the lonely island, Tristan d’Aeunha, in the South Atlantic, and has saved a number of lives during the last sixty years. Thirty years ago the Duke of Edinburgh visited this island and was carried ashore by Peter Green. Some months ago Queen Vic toria sent the old man her picture. To quote the words of Peter, “Such a picture never came to Tristan before. The height of the frame is nearly font feet, the breadth is nearly three feet, and the crown is on the top, all beau tifully carved and gilded.” The aged recipient of Her Majesty’s gift has just written to an old friend in London, Mr. G. Newman, of Woodgreen, to ask him to be kind enough to go and thank Her Majesty, “as a kind mah speaking to a very kind Queen.” Alflit'in.v Hivivftl. One would think that in this aga fit enlightenment the theory of the trans mutation of metals had long ago been assigned to oblivion and history, but recently Dr. D. K. Tuttle, melter and refiner of the United States Mint of Philadelphia, lias been called upon officially to investigate a proposed process for transmuting a base metal into gold. The investigation, of course, proved the fallacy of the al leged discovery, but disclosed the interesting circumstance that practi cally all the product 'sold as “pure’’ antimony by the best known chemical bouses, contains distinct traces cf gold.—San Francisco Call Six Tomatoes, Fourteen Pounds. Plus Payne, a colored man of Bards town, Ky., has exhibited six toma toes grown by him, which together weigh fourteen poupdjf, -• ... ONE MAN’S ENTERPRISE AND THE REMARKABLE TRANSFOR MATION IT BROUGHT ABOUT. .1 Finn Farm at the Bottom of >i Hole in Idaho—Waste Land That Han Been Turned Into a 420 Arre Paradise— A Curious Hoad to the Bottom. A hole has been transformed into a veritable paradise. “A hole in the ground” is what most poople called the place before Perine began his work of transformation. Some, with wider flow of language, called it tho “Devil’s Corral.” It is on Snake River, iu southern Idaho, twenty miles south of the little town of Shoshone, aud five miles down the river below the Great Shoshone Falls. The “hole” is abont 7110 feet deep, and embraces 000 or 800 acres of bottom surface. For ages and ages this “Devil’s Cor ral” has just been staying there, silent, ghastly, unknown. The pre,historic people, aud, I fancy, the Indians of later date, passed around it when fish ing along the Snake River. The more daring white man looked at it, gave it a name, and made money out of other white men by bringing them along to see it. One adventurous personage, about a half-white man, decijled that down in the depths of this great basin beside the river there ought to be gold. Accompanied by an Indian wife or two and half a dozen children, he clam bered down, located a mine and began to work it. His progress is not worth recording. Burt Perrine, a young man from In diana, seeking his fortune in the west, came out to see the Great Shoshone Falls and to see this Satanic corral. He clambered down the cliff to where the miner was. He was not impressed by the mine, but he was impressed by the situation and general appearance of this rock-walled basin. His first thought was: “The north wind can never find its way down here. This place ought to be transformed into a ranch or a truck garden or a fruit farm.” Upon closer examination he found that if the rocks were rolled out of the way, and the miscellaneous bushes around were grubbed up and burned, there would he several hundred acres of very choice soil. In the highest parts of this big basin he discovered, connected together, two glorious cold water lakes. They were forty to fifty feet deep, and they two covered about an acre of space. They were as clear as crystal, as bine as the sky above them, with white sand glistening in the bottom, and very lively trout of the mountain sort darting through them. From these lakes the entire basin could easily be irrigated. Against the undertaking was the al most incalculable amount of work nec essary to clear and level and irrigate the land; the uncertainty as to what the winters that brought snow six feet deep over all the plains above might do down here, and the possible power of the north wind to find its way down aftet all. As an additional menace to the undertaking, there stood giant lava walls, towering above from 500 to 800 feet, and sloping from an angle of seventy degrees to a straight perpen dicular. He went away and advised with his friends about it. They told him he was crazy. Without exception, they laughed at the idea of putting this great “hole in the ground” to any useful purpose. They said that even the solitary miner was half-witted or he wouldn’t try to get gold dust out of there. But he decided to put his opinions to the test, and bought out the claim of the miner so as to have all the hole to himself. He surveyed the place, and found that it contained 420 acres that could be worked or re claimed. He homesteaded a part of the land and made a desert entry of the balance. Then he began the work of transfor mation. He managed to blaze out along tbe rocky descent a trail down which pack animals could travel, aud it may be well to remark just here that the little mules aud the little burros used in this country can almost climb a tree or walk into a well. To do the work necessary down in this corral, Mr. Perrine had to have wagons, scrap ers, harrows, plows, powder and dyna mite and all sorts of things to work with that even pack animals couldn’t carry. These had to ha letdown with ropes over a perpendicular lava wall of 600 feet. They were so let down. Think for a few little moments of the care and work that this required. But to get a road up that TOO feet of miscellaneous precipice was the puzzle. Perrine had done some surveying and a little railroad engineering back in Indiana, and he thought he could build a road here. By the use of much dynamite, more powder, all the arts of removing rock that wouldn’t be re moved, and a paradoxical amount of persistent work, the road was graded and built. It does much winding in and out, up and down, back and forth, aside and across, and at a general glance it has more the appearance of a stairway than of a road. Yet two-horse and four-horse teams easily travel it, and the traffic that goes up it and down it. is a marvel to the beholder. Going down this road excites a very pleasing feeling. One cannot see more than twenty steps ahead. Now the horses seem approaching a rocky wall; now a yawning precipice. Sud denly, without any warning whatever, the wagon halts almost perpendicularly above the beautiful Blue lakes. One could dive into them, so straight are they below, but. it would He a dive of several hundred feet, and it is a ride of several hundred winding yards to get beside them. These are queer lakes. They are filled by subterranean springs. Except that which is piped out for irrigation purposes, their water is discharged through subterranean caverns. The water in the lakes re mains at the same level all the time. It remains, every minute of the year, without regard to seasons, at tho same temperature —sixty degrees. In honor of them, this place is not known any more as the “Devil’s Corral,” but is called instead “The Blue Lakes.” The “Devil’s Corral” is now a 420- acre paradise, blooming into life with 5000 fruit trees and not a forbidden tree among them. The luscious fruit is a continual joy and a lifetime for tune to its owner, and a source of pleasure aud admiration to visiting thousands. The 5000 fruit trees include prunes, pe.tches, pears, apples, nectarines, be- sides strawberries, grapes and water melons, each producing with rarest flavor a great abundance of its kind. While the snow on the plains above is six feet deep for several months of every year, the fruit trees here have never been known to suffer from the cold. During the winter months noth ing but sleighs can be driven over the plains above, but only wheeled vehicles can be driven in this place and down tho road leading to it. His pretty little cottage, nestling among the trees down by the riverside, is a thing of comfort and beauty. Within fifty yards of the house he can catch in half an hour more mountain trout than his family can eat in a day. Now that the place is iixod up, to keep it up is little more than a matter of play. To live like a lord upon it and to gradually lay up a fortune is no problem at all. With this sort of a place, with a charming wife, a beau tiful little girl and a bright little boy, it seems that this young man from In diana, who came to seek his fortune in the West, has gotten about as much as this good world cau offer.—Washing ton Star. JOB FOR A PAINTER. (iforffio Kxplalns lo llis Uncle Fred Hu, Accident That Church the Demand. Dear Uncle Fred: Paw painted part of our stable day Before yistady. He would a painted it all if it Hadent a Bin for a accident. When He got About throo Bonrds painted maw come out to see How he was gitten along and when she looked at Him she says: “I thot you was agoin to paint the Stable.” Paw was up on a ladder and he stopped and looked at Her like if He diden’t no What she ment. Then He says: “Well, ain’t I painten it? If you Dont like this Here job, mebby you Better take Hold and finish it your self.” “Oh, you’re doin all rite,” says maw, “only it seems to me it would Bea little Better if you’d git more paint on the Barn and not quite so mutch on yourself.” “Huh!” paw growled. “I s’pose yon Think that 111 ame funny, don’t you. Why I seen that old gag in The papers twenty years ago.” “Oh not that long ago,” says maw. “Why not?” Paw ast. “Becos you never read the Papers, then,” says maw. “It’s only since we Got married and I want to Be Sociable or they’s somethin you ought to Do around the House that you git so Bizzy readen papers you Don’t Have no Time for anything else.” “That’s What Thanks a feller gits,” Pa says, “for tryin to Do things. If you told the truth, How does it Come I’m Up Here now?” Paw was tickled by that shot and He kind of Whirled around on one foot to See How maw was agoin to Take it. But the ladder give a slide, and Down she Went with Paw hollerin ter Maw to ketch the Blame Thing. Maw she jist yelled and run away, and paw Come Down kersmash on the Paint Bucket, and upset it, aud the stuff run all over His neck and nearly smothered Him Before He Could git untangled out of the ladder. We was all purty scared. But it Dident Hurt him much, so when we was leaden Him into the House he says to maw: “Well, I Hope you’re Happy now. You Coulden’t a stayed in the House Where you Belonged because they wasen’t nobody in there to make your tongue waggle. I s’pose the only thing you’re Sorry about is that I diden’t Git my neck Broke.” Maw she Diden’t say a word. I Gess She must a Beeii purty full of remorst. They’s a Job Here fer some painter now. Georgie. —Cleveland Leader. liiveting by Machinery. In regard to riveting with com pressed air the master mechanic of the Santa Fe road is quoted as saying that by the use in the Santa Fe shops of a stationary riveting machine three men are enabled to drive 2000 rivets per day of teu hours at a cost of $4.75, as compared with 200 rivets per day at a cost of $7 by hand labor; the truck riveters—the machine being operated by two laborers at a total cost of $3 per day—drive 3000 rivets, as com pared with 175 rivets driven by hand labor by three men iu a day at a cost of SC, while the staybolt breaker makes an average saving of $3 per day, and the tank riveter an average daily sav ing of $lO. Further, the mud-ring riveters will drive as many rivets as can be handed to them, and will make a saving of sl2 to sls a day for that class of work. Not only is this method credited with the great saving named, says the New York Sun, but is de ed ired to insure every rivet hole being filled entirely and insures tight work, while of hand-driven rivets in mud rings a large percentage invariably leak. Mennonite CourtHhlp. When a brother in the church wants to marry a sister, he does not make his wish known directly to her, but goes to the minister and tells him his secret. The minister, if pleased with the match, carries the lover’s message. The sister is usually surprised, as this is supposed to be her first intimation of the young man’s love. If the pro posal is received with favor, the nego tiations are carried on by the minister. The ceremony always takes place in a church. No invitations are issued, lc.it the banns are proclaimed from the pulpit t.vo weeks beforehand. During this period the groom is permitted to visit his intended without the inter vention of a third party. After tiie wedding a dinner is always served, after which bride and groom go to there respective homes, aud remain apart for several days. The mar riages in the church are generally happy ones, and there is no record of any of the members ever suing for di vorce.—Philadelphia Record. A Forgotten Letter Mailed. A Virginia man the other day mailed a letter which was given him iu 1865 to mail, when he was a prisoner at Point Lookout. In looking over some papers he found the letter and wrote to the Sheriff' of Anson County to know if the man to whom it was ad dressed was alive. The Sheriff' replied yes, and strange to relate, was in his office when the letter of inquiry came. The letter was sent in the original envelope. POPULAR SCIENCE. The colors of the different races de pend upon the pigment iu the epider mis, especially iu its deeper strata. Lima. Peru, is to have a supply of electricity for lighting and other pur pose from a power plant on a stream several miles away. A 110 horse-power dynamo and sev eral motors to use tbe power it- gen erates have been ordered from an American mannfactnrre for some car shops iu Nagoya, Japan. This is -aid to he the first plant of its kind in Asia, D. Macfarlane Moore, of Newnr-., who has given several public and pri vate exhibitions of bis vacuum tc ; light, is now talking of trying to film - inate a street, by stringing a chain of • these tubes from pole to pole like an overhead trolley wire |)r. Keller opened tbciut.--tines of a huge number of spiders and found that they are voracious enemies of the most noxious insects. According *■( his idea spiders are more beneficial to the maintenance of forests than all t 1 ■; insect-eating birds put together. So distinguished an electrician is Silvaults P. Thompson,of London, au thor of a standard textbook which lies been iu use many years, expresses i hope that Marcomi’s system of tele graphing without wires may prove available for communication across the Atlantic. About two hundred electric brain-- are iu service on street cars in Dres den. Some of them are on “trailer " aud some on the motor cars. They un equally adapted to both. In Berlin the motors themselves are made to act as brakes by the use of switches which “short-circuit” the motors. Both sys tems are said to he very efficacious ami much superior to the ordinary hand brake. The Union Elevated Railway lorn in Chicago for tbe exchange of pnssci. gers by four different lines bus now been completed, and is likely to go in to service immediately. Three com panies had, at last accounts, signed the rental contract, but the South Side or “Alley” company still holds off. ft will be several months before its roll ing stock is equipped with electric mo tive apparatus. The other lines have been using electricity for years. The conjunction of Jupiter and Hat turn to take place November 2s. 1001, will be the closest auv person now living will see. A British astronomer states that these planets will approach within about 26 minutes of arc, re maining within 32 iniuntes for six days. They will he evening stars,and 38 degrees from the sun. The only closer conjunction since the invention of the telescope was 11 minutee in 1683, and no other as close will occur until 2002. The Ajce of Deer. Romance has played a prominent part with regard to the longevity of deer, says a writer in Chambers’s Journal. What says the Highland adage? Thrice the age of a dog is that of a horse, Thrice the age of a horse is that of a man, Thrice the age of man is that of a deer, Thrice the age ot a deer is that of an eagle, Thrice the age of an eagle is that of an oak tree. This is to assign the deer a period or more than 200 years; and the esti mate is supported by many highly cir cumstantial stories. Thus, Captain Macdonald, of Tulloch, who died in 1776, aged eighty-six years, is said to have known the white hind of Loeh Treig for fifty years; his father for a like period before him, and his grand father for sixty years before him. So. in 1826 Macdonald, of Glengarry, is reported to have killed a stag which bore a mark on the left ear identical with that made on all the calves he could catch by Ewee-Maclan-Og, who had been dead 150 years. Analogous stories, it may be noted, are told in countries on the Continent of Europe, where deer are to be found in any number. But, alas! the general opin ion among experts would seem to be that thirty years or thereabout is the limit of a deer’s life. Handed by Hi* Friends. At Ballarat, Australia, a ruined gold miner once committed suicide in a dramatic manner. During the time of the gold rush a certain deserted claim was for years held sacred, and the tools strewn about the windlass were left to rust away untouched. A party- of ’varsity men, old school fel lows and of gentle birth, had sunk their shaft there and worked without success until their money was spent. One evening one of them at work at the bottom of the shaft shouted, “Haul up, boys, the time is come at last.” They hauled up, and when it came to the top they found their com rade’s lifeless body banging from the chain. He had detached the bucket, tied a noose abont his neck, fastened the noose to the chain, and was hanged by his dearest friends. The party had been much liked and respected by the other miners, who would read ily have subscribed 1000 ounces of gold dust to give them a fresh start, but ere the dawn of the next day the whole party had disappeared, leaving their claim in the same state as it lay at the time of the tragedy.—London Telegraph. Lead Uullelß Hade 4S Hard a* Sleol. Charles W. Bales, a chemist, and Edward Jerry, a surveyor of this city, have discovered a secret solution by whieli they coat leaden bullets, ren dering them superior to steel-cased bullets. The ordinary leaden bullets, when used in the King-Jorgensen rifle, have been found to be too soft, and the lead has clung to the barrel of thy rifle until the 1 nirrel was finally clogged, and the steel cartridges which have succeeded the lead ones have eventu ally torn the barrel. These cartridges do neither. Messrs. Bates and Jerry succeeded iu procuring some of the smokeless powder used by tiie Government in the Krng-Jorgensen rifles and have made numerous experiments witli their curt ridges. At a distance of thirty yards they bored a hole through an axe blade and also through a flatiron. In the latter ease the bullet lodged in a tree, entering a distance of six inches. They will now offer to sell the Government the bullets coated with the secret pre paration. Hue Francisco Chronicle.