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MY LOVE IS LIKE A. SONO.
Mr lore is not like any flower;
For flowers live but a day,
And many a one but for an hour.
Then dying, fades away ;
But my sweet love is like a son?.
That sinks into the heart,
And lingers there so very long,
It most becomes a part.
My love is not like any star;
“or stars but shine at night,
And then ’tis only from afar
That stars appear so bright ;
But my sweet love is like a aong.
That brightens all the day,
That rolls the wheels of Time alone,
Aud drives the night away.
M v love is not like anyone
r hat mighty pens have made.
Like no fair image 'neath the sun.
No bird in held or glade;
But my sweet love is like a song.
Alike to hut and throne,
A glorious thing before the throng.
A sweet, mild thing alone.
Frank I.r&hr'x Popular Monthly.
THE SHEPHERD.
On one of my excursions, riding
through the blue gum forests (of Aus
tralia), says Joseph Jefferson in the Cen
t'iry. I had galloped about twenty miles
from the home station; diemounting
from the horse, 1 sat down to rest and
lake a lunch. A large flock of cocka
toos, those beautiful white parrots with
yellow crests, came circling around and
lit in the trees overhead. 1 was watch
ing the curious maneuvers of these birds
** they were chattering aud hopping
about among the limbs, when they
stopped suddenly as if alarmed. Some
thing was evidently approaching of
which they were in dread. They set up
an awful scream, and with a tremendous
flutter spread their white wings and
sailed away. Just at this moment a large
black collie dog came bounding out. rf
the bushes and suddenly stopped
in front of me. For a moment
I was startled. The dog paused
and eyed me keenly, then coming
slowly up walked round me, and at last
approached and licked my hand, which I
had held out to him. In a moment
more he bounded away, leaving me as
tonished at his strange conduct. I had
never seen a dog act in so singular a
manner, and was wondering what it
could mean, when a sharp, joyful bark
warned me that he was returning; and
sure enough, he had come back wagging
his tail aud followed by a tall, gaunt
figure of a mau thinly clad, barefooted,
and with a wide-brimmed, frayed straw
hat on hia head. He was about fifty years
of age, and as he removed his hat and
made me a well-mannered, dighified bow,
I could see that, though he was undoubt
edly a shepherd, he had once been a gen
tleman who had seen better days. As he
stood bareheaded, before me the w ind
blew his long, thin, sandy hair about his
brow, and he regarded me with n strange,
far off look in his eyes, as if I had been
miles away. I met several shepherds af
ter this, and noticed that same straine 1
expression. They live so much alone,
somstimes being three and four months
without seeing a human being, that they
form this habit by looking over the
plains, hoping that they may catch sight
of some one to relieve the awful monot
ony of their lonely lives. “Thank Gad!
(Jod bless you, sir. I hope you are
quite well,’’ he said. There was not
much expression in the nqin's face. I al- ,
most fancied that he looked like a sheep,
but there was enough to prove that he j
was glad to see me; and would have ,
been to see Rny one else, for the matter
of that. ‘‘Sit down, my friend, and
have some lunch with me,” said I.
“Thank you, I will,” said he. “Well,
.Tack, you are right, quite right; you al
ways are, old bov.” This was said to
the dog, who never once took his eye off
his master, but stood in front of him,
wagging his affectionate tail, that ex
pressed as much love for the poor, tat
tered, wasted shepherd as it could have
done had he been an emperor in purple
robes. “Yes, always right and true, eh,
old boy?” The dog answered by lickiug
the shepherd’s hand and rubbing his
head against his master's legs.
“I knew you were here,” said he.
“You knew I was here? ilow could you
tell that? What do you mean?” “Oh,
when I say that I mean that I knew it
was a friend, or at least uot an enemy;
and Jack knew, if 1 didn’t. About an
hour ago, the dog began to get uneasy.
He ran about sniffing the air and giving
little short barks; then all of a sudden
he broke away and left me. I thought
he was ou the lookout for soraetbiug
strange, so I just sat down among the
sheep and waited for him. Presently he
came back quite pleased at what
he had discovered; then he gave some
more of thosj little short barks
snd ran off toward you and
back again; then wagged his tail impa
tiently. He could not have spoken
plainer if he had been a Christian. The
loving beast knows the lonely life I lead,
and how I yearn sometimes for a human
face to look at. That's why he went on
so—God bless him ! It’ll be a shame for
us to live in the other world if Jack don't
go there. Look at him now; can't you
see in his face that he knows that I have
been talking about him?—and every word
I’ve said, for the matter of that, I be
lieve.” And, sure enough, the look in
the dog's face was almost human.
The man now sat down quietly beside
me, and ate sparingly and rather me
chanically of the lunch, always sharing
bis morsel with Jack. I took up a flask
of whisky, and, pouring out some of it
into a cup, offered my guest a drink.
His eyes beamed with a longing look as
he saw the liquor, and, turning on me a
strange, frightened look, said: “No,
none of that for me. Put it away, please:
f don’t like the sight of it.”
ft now dawned upon me that my friend
was a retired drunkard, who had come
out to this lonely part of the world to
avoid temptation. I had heard that there
were many such in Australia, and that
the shepherd’s life was chosen as being
the most isolated one that could be
found. 1 rose to take inv departure,
when he put his hand gently on iny arm,
and with an appealing look said, “You
won't go home to-night, will you? It’s
too late. I wish you’d stay in my hut to
night, it's so long since I’ve seen a hu
man face—over three months now. A
man only comes once in a great while to
bring provisions, and that’s all we see
of humanity from one year’s end to
aaother. I)o stay to-night, won’t you?”
‘‘l'd like to oblige you,” I replied, “but
they’ll be uneasy about me at the home
station. I must be twenty miles from
there nqw, and it will be long after dark
before I get back, even at a smart gal
lop.” “But are you sure you know the
way? You might get lost,” said he.
“Oh, no, I’ve only to keep on the banks
of the Murray, and I’m all right.”
The poor fellow hung his head, look
ing the picture of despair. “Well,'’
said I, “I’ll stay.". He brightened up at
this. “How far is your hut from here?”
tasked. “Not a mile, I assure you.”
Bo he started off at a good pace, fearing
I might change my mind, I suppose. The
dog bounded ahead, barking away, and
I followed on horseback. We soon came
upon his charge—a large flock of sheep.
As they heard the dog’s bark the stupid
creatures pricked up their ears and looked
surprised, just as if they had never heard
• it before; then they took to their heels
1 and galloped off, with the dog in full
I pursuit, running fast in front, and then
l at the side, as some stray wether
i showed a disposition to rebel, then cir-
I cling round and round till he got the
. fold just where he wanted them. Ho
now went in and out among the the sheep
[ as though giving orders that they were
!to be put up for the night. Tiny seemed
I quite to understand him, so they quietly
1 lay down in little family groups, fly this
I time we had reached the hut, and the
dog came up wagging his tail, as much
as to say; “It’s all right; there’s none of
them missing.” The hut was built of
mud, sticks and straw, with the hard
earth for a floor. I hobbled my horse so
that he might browse about in safety, the
shepherd prepared a cup of tea—(he
usual beverage of the bush—aud the
dog, not a whit tired, stood bolt upright
overlooking his distant charge with the
air of a general reviewing his army.
The sun had gone down behind the
low horizon with the same effect that it
does at sea, and as we sat outside upon a
couple of rude blocks of wood, drinking
our refreshiug tea, the moon rose up
shedding its soft light over this mysteri
ous scene; there was no sound but the
distinct tinkle of a sheep-bell and the
crackling of the little tire that was boil
ing the tea. The smoke went straight
and silently up into the still air; the lone
lines* was bad enough with two men—
what must it have been with onel
I felt there was something more in my
profund acquaintance than 1 had yet
learned, so I lighted my pipe and began
to draw him out. It is curious that a
man being alone among dumb creatures
loses after a time something of his
human expression and acquires that of
hia dumb companions, and that
a dog under the same circum
stances retains his individuality. Here
was a man who, to judge from his man
ner and speech, must have been tenderly
reared and highly educated, and one too
who had practiced the busy calling of the
law; yet in a few years of isolation the
bright mind lmd become faded, and the
human look of the face changed almost
to the blank expression of a sheep, while
a dogaimler the same circumstances had
retained his perfect individuality. Jack’s
eyes sparkled like diamonds. His char
acter was marked by intelligence, faith
fulness and affection. He would lie with
his head between his paws, and his sharp
nose flat on the ground, turning up the
whites of his eyes to watch us as we
talked. Now and agaiu he would heave
a deep sigh of satisfaction, as much as to
say, "The old man is all right to-night;
he’s got some one that can talk to him.”
I questioned the shepherd about his
past life. It seems he had been educated
at Kton; then became a fast youth in
London, where he studied for
the law, and iu a short time rose
to be a successful barrister. He
had married earlv, and had one
child, a daughter, boru to him. Af
ter two years of wedded life he lost his
wife and child. Despairingly he took
to drink, and,being weak and desperate,
went down hill and lost his position;
that once lost in London is seldom re
gained. Not so in America. Here, when
a man falls, if he has the strength to
brace up again he goes to the West, and
rubbing up against anew society absorbs
fresh magnetism and recuperates at ouce;
but London is compact; t tie Englishman
hates to leave his home; his failings are
known, and if he remains they are flung
iu his face. There is no escape fur him;
and, as his friends shuu him, he falls
deeper into disgrace. This was the
trouble that had beset the shepherd, who,
having a sensitive and perhaps weak
mind, succumbed to the pressure that
surrounded him. And so after a time,
with a broken spirit, he left England and
came to the colonies. He practiced law
in Melbourne for some time successfully,
but the old habit came back upon him,
and, as he could not resist temptation,he
buried himself on this statiou. This
was the tale he told me, and there could
be no doubt of its truth. After he had
finished he turned his strange, far-off
look ou me again, and said: “Are you
superstitious?’’
“Well, I think I am a little. Most
people are, if they would own it,” said
I. “I didn’t used to be,” said he with
a sigh; “but since I've lived here I seem
to have become so, and it’s all Jack's
fault.” The dog, not looking up, beat
his tail on the ground gently, as if to
say: “Yes, blame it all on gie; it's all
my fault.”
“I have never seen anything ghostly
or mysterious myself, but I think Jack
does somethimes. When we're alone—
and God knows that's often enough—
he'll start up and look around slowly as
if his eyes were following something in
the hut; at these times he will give a
low, strange kind of moan, and, putting
his tail between his legs, seem to be
frightened, ptcring up into my face with
an enquiring stare, as if he said: ‘Don't
you see it, too?' ” The dog during this
recital kept slowh- beating his tail, as if
he were indorsing every word his master
said. "After noticing this with the
dog,” said the shepherd, “I called to
mind the strange look I used to see in
the beautiful face of mv baby when she
was only six months old. The little
thing would sometimes stare at vacancy,
and then smile sweetly aud turn its head
away as if it were following something
—just as that dog does. What’s your
opinion of this sort of thing? Do you
think the spirits of those we loved in life
tan return and stand beside us?”
I told him that his question was a diffi
cult one to answer; that different people
held different opinions on these mysteri
ous matters, and the chances were that
nobody had hit it quite right yet.
“Weil,” said he, “if they can come, I
kuow who it is that the dog sees when
we’re alone.”
It was now getting late, and the shep
herd insisted on my taking his couch, an
old canvas cot with a plain gray blanket
spread upon it; so, as 1 was quite tired, I
accepted the offer, and lay down for a
night’s rest. My companion stretched
his tall figure on the grass outside. The
dry climate of Australia admits of this;
there is no danger in sleeping on the
ground; the chances are there would not
be a drop of dew during the night, and
that the grass in the morning would be
as dry as hay. Jack lay down between
us, ami seemed, by one or two satisfac
tory sighs that, escaped him, to be quite
happy.
I was awake for some time, and hap
pening to look toward my new acquaint
ance, found that he was lying upon his
back with the moon shining full upon
his pale face. I had heard that it was
dangerous in this climate to sleep in the
moonlight. People had been known to
go mad, or to have been struck with par
alysis, for committing this indiscretion.
1 called to him to move into the shadow,
but he did not heed me; so, thinking he
had dozed off, I let him alone.
The strangeness of the scene, togethei
with the strong tea, seemed to banish
sleep from me, and I must have been
there an hour with my eyes closed, but
quite awake, when presently I heard
something stirring, and, opening my
eyes, saw the shepherd sitting up in the
doorway with his head resting in his
hands. After a time he arose and went
out into the night air. lie seemed un
easy, and began restlessly to pace up aud
down in front of the hut. The dog re
mained still, but I felt that he was
awake and watching his master, as lie
walked nervously backward and forward
in the moonlight. Presently the shep
herd stopped in front of the hut, aud
came, with a hesitating and irresolute
step, towards the door. He entered
slowly, and, stooping down upon his
hands and knees, crawled stealtlily to the
chair on which my coat was handing; he
put his hand in the breast pocket and
drew forth the flask of liquor. And now
he seemed bewildered, as it some strange
emotion had seized upon him, and then
fell upon his knees as if in prayer. Sud
denly he seemed to rouse himself, and,
instead of drinking the liquor, placed
the flask untouched back in the pocket
of the coat; then stretching himself on
the floor, with an apparent air of com
fort and satisfaction, went off to sleep.
The whole proceeding so haunted me that
it was broad daylight before I closed
my eyes. When I awoke, tiie sun was
high in the heavens. It must have been
midday. My host had prepared break
fast—some bread freshly baked, tea, and
salt beef. He seemed quite calm, and
had lost the nervous, wearied look that
was noticeable the evening before. Af
ter our meal, lie spoke freely of the
night’s proceedings to me. I told him 1
had seen all that had taken place. “1
thought perhaps it might be so,” said he.
“The old craving came upon me again,
so strong too, but if ever I prayed for
strength it was then. Well, at that mo
ment there was a hand laid on my head :
a calmness came over me that I had nol
felt for years; and when I returned tht
flask to your pocket 1 knew then, as 1
know now, that another drop of liquor
will never pass my lips; and, ns God is
niv judge,l believe it was the angel hand
of my dead wife that rested ou my fever
ish head. It's all over now, thank
heaven, and I can leave this lonely place
and return to the world again with safe
ty.”
I started to ride for the home station;
the shepherd walked some distance by
the side of my horse, and at last we
shook hands and parted. I looked back
after a time, and in the distance saw his
tall figure against the sky, waving his old
straw hat to me, while the faithful dog
by his side was looking up into his face
and wagging that expressive tail.
A Curious Oil.
A well of mineral oil was recently dis
covered near Bowling Green, Ky., by
Ebenezer Cathcart, owner of a truck gar
den, while boring for water. It is so
clear as to be nearly transparent, of a
beautiful pale pink color, and, while en
tirely odorless when cold, if heated
highly emits a most delicious odor, re
sembling somewhat attar of roses,though
more delicate and subtle. An experiment
was tried with a small quantity to test
its burning properties, when it was
found to burn slowly and steadily, giving
u soft, clear, lambent flame, shedding a
faint rose-colored light and tilling the
air with a penetrating fragrance.
When the oil was consumed, at the
bottom of the vessel was sound a deposit
of a number of hard, minute particles,
looking like grains of fine stone-colored
sand, which exploded ou being placed iu
water, with iucredible violence when the
size ot the particles is taking into consid
eration. The oil and its precipitate are
now being carefully analyzed and experi
mented with by the chemists here, whose
opinion as to their properties is being
ai*riously waited for, for the beauty of
the light the oil gives, its delicious per
fume and the highly explosive quality of
the precipitate left all seem to point to a
disesvery of immense value to the scien
tific if not to the commercial world.—.
Philadelphia Timet.
Detroit wants the Democratic Nation*
Convention in 1892.
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FHO3I
VARIOUS SOURCEK
A Wile's Retort—She Needed Pro,-
tcction— The Uifl’erence —Of
Course Not— No Longer
Effective. Etc., Etc.
ns my wife and I, at the window one day,
Stood watching a man with a monkey.
A cart came by with a “broth of a boy,”
Who was driving a stout little donkey.
To my wife I then spoke, by way of a joke—
“ There’s a relation of yours in that car
riage. ”
To which she replied, as the donkey she spied,
“Ah, yes, a relation—by marriage!”
—John G. Saxe.
THE DIFFERENCE.
Ttodd—“Hello, old boy, going out for
a little pleasure trip, eh?”
Hooker—“No, I'm going out fishing
with my wife.” —Detroit Free Press.
SHE NEEDED PROTECTION.
Guardian—“ Why should a rich and
happily situated young woman like you
want to get married?”
She—“l’m afraid of burglars.”—Chi
cago Globe.
OF COURSE NOT.
“Is it you who’s been oatin’ these ere
dates?” asked a groceryman of anew
clerk; “I see the pits on the floor.”
“No, boss,” was the ingenious reply;
“’cos I alius swaller mine.”— Judge.
NO LONGER EFFECTIVE.
New Nurse (singing)—“Roek-a-bye
baby, on the ”
Precocious Child (starting up)—
“Don’t sing that old chestnut, or I shall
never go to sleep; sing something new.”
—Boston Budget.
A LES3ON IN LANGUAGE.
“What are we waitingon, conductor?”
asked a passenger from Chicago, when
the train came to a stand-still.
“We are waiting on the track,” re
plied the conductor, who was a Boston
man. — Lkppincott.
IT WAS A COLD.
Miss Sharpe—“Oh, how do you do,
Mr. Sissy? You are not looking very
wefl.”
Mr. Sissy—“No, Miss Shawpe; I’ve a
cold or something in me head.”
Miss Sharpe (calmly)—“l think it
must be a cold, Mr. Sissy.”— Mumey's
Weekly.
BOBUS UP EARLY.
flobbs—“l couldn’t possibly sleep as
late as you do. Why, I’m out of bed
and as busy as a bee before uve o'clock
every morning.”
Dobbs—“You don’t say so! How
long have you been doing that?”
Bobbs—“Ever since baby came.”
SHE LOOKED JILLING.
Hyman—“ Miss Leunox is not a very
handsome girl, but I can tell you she
looked killing, for once, at the ball last
night.”
Crawford—“ Did she?”
liyman—“Yes; you should have seen
the look she gave me when I trod upon
her train.”
FULL, BUT COVETED MOKE.
“You look sad, Mamie.”
“Yes; I found about fourteen dough
nuts in the pantry, and I ate them.”
“Didn’t they agree with you?”
(Dolefully)—“’Tisn’t that; we had
three kinds of pie and ice cream for din
ner, and I hadn't any room for them.”—
Lippincott.
A BUSINESS WOMAN.
Mabel—“ The mau who marries mo
must have a good big bauk account.”
Ethel—“You don’t mean to say you
will marry solely for money?”
Mabel—“No, not exactly; but if any
one swears he loves me I shall require a
deposit merely as an evidence of good
faith. ” — Judge.
IN HARD LUCK.
Kind Lady—“l suppose youv lot is
full of hardship?”
Tramp—“lndeed it is, mum. Iu th’
wiuter w’eu the farmers is doin’ nothin’
but eatiu’ apples and drinkin’ cider, it’s
too cold fer us to tramp; and in th’ sum
mer wc’rc allers bein’ offered work.”—
New York Weekly.
HOW HE CAME ]IY TnEM.
Friend—“You have a lot of agricul
tural implements. Where did yon get
them?”
Kansas Man—“ They fell to me.”
“Ah, a relative of yours died and left
them to you, eh?”
“No, no; a cyclone did the work.”—
Detroit Free Press.
SHE HAS NONE NOW.
A Missouri girl whose father is a
famous rough-aud-tumblc lighter made a
vow not to marry any youug man who
could not make the old man holler for
mercy. Thirteen have tried it and been
stepped on and broken in two and
bunged up, and now the girl wanders by
the brookside—all alone.— Detroit Free
Press.
RULING PASSION OF AN ADVERTISER.
Vi eepiog Spouse—“l shall erect a
monument to you, dearest, when you
are gone. I shall have ‘Loving Husband’
engraved at the bottom of the colurau.”
Dying Advertiser—“ Good gracious,
Pauline, that will never do! Top of
column, eighth page, next reading mat
ter—or—l refuse to die!”— Dry Goods
Chronicle.
NO NOTICE TAKEN OK IT.
First Tramp—“l don't see why our
names don't gel inter the papers. Bill.”
Second Tramp—“ Why should they?'’
FLut Tramp—“ Well, I read to-day
that a dinner was given to some big gun
in New York a day or two ago. We get
dinners given to us every day, and noth
ing is ever said about it. Folks is preju
diced. Bill.”— Mnntey't Weekly.
MERELY A BIT OF PLEASANTRY,
“But I can’t marry you, Charlie,” she
said sadly.
“Don’t say that, darling! Oh, don’t
say that! Why can’t you?”
“Because, Charlie, I am neither a
minister nor a magistrate and have no
authority.”
Then the soul of Charlie was quieted
and a great light shone round about him.
Washington Star.
WASTING HIS TIME.
“Let me see,” mused a sedately appear
ing man, who was tightly jammed against
the dashboard rail, to the one on his
left, “have we been introduced?”
“I think not. My name is Taylor.”
“Ah! and mine is Porter. Mr. Tay
lor, _you are throwing time away in try
ing to reach my watch. It is an old one,
and out of repair, and would not bring
you s2”— Chat.
OUT FOR KEEPS.
Mrs. Rambo—“ls your mother at home,
Thomas?”
Tommy Dodd—“Nc, ma’am; she’s
out.”
Mrs. Rambo—“ How unfortunate!
Tell her I shall call again to morrow, will
you?”
Tommy Dood—“Yes’m, I’ll tell her;
but it won’t do any good. I heard her
say that she was always out when you
called. ” — Lippineott.
IIE MEANT HOGS.
Weary Wayfarer (standing in a crowded
car) —“Did I hear you say you were go
ing to Chicago?”
“Graball (who has his seat filled with
valises) —“Yes.”
Weary Wayfarer “Aren’t you
afraid?”
Graball (curtly)—“Afraid of what?”
Weary Wayfarer—“ Afraid you’ll lose
your life. They do a big business in
your flesh and blood out there.”—dial
ler.
THE YOUTHFUL IN BOSTON.
A cousin from a Western ranch is visit
ing the Bellinghams of Boston.
The Cousin (at lunch) —“Them stuffed
olives is the most all-fired elegant things
I ever got me teeth intil.”
Baby Bellingham (aged two, in a
whisper)—“Mamma, this man is literally
dreadful. Suppose any of our friends
should see that use of the knife. And if
he persists in his criminally ungram
matical language, I am absolutely certain
I shall have an attack of nervous prostra
tion.”—Beacon.
JUDGING BY APPEARANCE.
Prosecuting Attorney—“ Gentlemen ol
the jury, look at the prisoner. See his
wandering eye, note his nervous move
ments, his cringing look, his hang-dog
expression. Do you not see before you a
man so full of guilt that he has for years
been in hourly fear that the dread blow
would come?”
Prisoner—“ Please, sir, I got that way
living in a flat and trying not to offend
the janitor.”
The Jury (without leaving the box)—
“Not guilty.” —Ne e York Weekly.
EFFECT OE HIS ELOQUENCE.
They are telling a political story of the
last campaign, and of the experience of a
Chicago orator who went out into the
country to help a friend, and who spoke
in a town where his friend wasn t
popular. The oratov failed to charm the
playful audience, and was rotten egged
off the platform. Upon his return, the
friend, after hearing of the egg ad
venture, asked him commiseratingly:
“Did you succumb, Bill?”
“Suck ’em! Bet your sweet life I
didu't suck ’em! I clum out of the back
wiudow!” —Merchant Traveler.
WHY HE KILLED HIMSELF.
“Can you,” remarked the gentleman
from Boston to the gentleman from Chi
cago, “give me your views on current
art?” “Certainly; with pleasure,” was
the answer. “A currant tart is a mighty
good thing. The ci ust should be made
very short and the currant jelly ”
But here the gentleman from Chicago
was met with a cold and pallid stare for
an instant. A copy of Browning dropped
on the floor, a pair of gold-rimmed
spectacles lay at his feet, there was a
rush of flying footsteps, followed by a
hoarse cry from the deck of the Lake
Michigan steamer ot “Man overboard!”
And the gentleman from Boston had
vanished. —Peoria (III.) Transcript.
didn’t pay.
A lecturer that had tor several minutes
harangued his audience on the beauties
of politeness, was interrupted by a man
who arose and said:
“That’s all very well, Cap—mighty
fine talkin’, an" all that, but in this town
politeness don’t pay.”
“You are mistaken, sir,” the lecturer
answered, “politeness pays in any and
all towns.”
“No, you are wrong,” the interrupter
persisted, “it don’t pay here. I’ll tell
you why. For some time I have been
eating at a lunch-counter ’round yonder,
and I noticed that every man sat up to
the counter with his hat on, and as I
wasn't brought up that way, I concluded
to take my hat off, and I did so.”
“Well, but did any one object?” the
lecturer asked.
“Oh, no, there was no objection, but,
you see, some fellow stole ny hat.”—
Arkansan) Traveler.
’ The Cowcatcher.
It is said that the common cow
catcher attachment to locomotives is
about the only article of universal use
that has never been patented. Its in
ventor was D. B. Davies, of Columbus,
who found his model in the plow. Red
lights on the roar of trains, it is further
said, were adopted at the suggestion of
the late Mrs. Swisshelm, after a railway
accident in which she had a narrow
escape. —Parker (Kan.) Pilot.
THE SUEZ CANAL
A DESCRIPTION OF THIS STUPEN
DOUS WATER-WAY.
De besseps's Indomitable Persever
ance Finally Triumphed—How Oper
ated—Total Cost—Number of Ves
sels Which Pass Through It,
In 1854 M. de Lessepe visited Alexan
dria, Egypt,at the invitation Of the Vice
roy, who gave him a residence in that
city, and enlisted him as a companion
across the Libyan desert . It was during
the journey that the project t build the
canal was first placed before the Viceroy,
who approved of it at once and granted
the first concession in 1854. A company
was formed, and on the sth Of Novem
ber, 1858, the subscription books were
opened in Paris and the stock subscribed
for by the 30th of the same month. The
subsequent concessions needed were ob
tained in 1856, 1863 and 1864, and two
others in 1861) and 1876.
The work of constructing the canal
commenced in 1859, Its total length is
eighty-eight geographical miles of navi
gation (99.90 statute miles); sixty-six are
actual canal formed by cutting, fourteen
are made by dredging and eight miles re-
Suired no work as the natural depth of
le lake was more than equal to that of
the canal. The machinery represented
in all 11,000 horsepower. One of the
marine dredgers built by the company
cost $140,000. The number of men em
ployed at one time exceeded 30,000.
The whole quantity of earth and sand
excavated is stated to have been 80,090,-
000 cubic yards, which, if placed in
“gufahs,” one after another, would form
a line which would surround the world
three times.
The terminal harbors are important
adjuncts of this great work. That at
Part Said is formed by two breakwaters
constructed of blocks of artificial stones;
These blocks were made of sand from the
harbor bed and of hydraulic lime ob
tained from France, These were well
mixed together with water, and piit into
wooden cases and rammed with sand;
The wooden cases were remove! after
two days and the blocks left to dry in
the sun, which required two months to
complete. When ready for use each
block weighed five tons, and as many as
16,000 of the blocks were used. The
western breakwater at Port Said is 6940
feet in length, while the eastern is 6020
feet; together they enclose an area of
about 450 acres. The entrance at Suez
is also protected by a breakwater.
At every five or six miles in the canal
there is a passing point—sidings called
gures—to enable vessels to moor for the
night, or bring up in order to allow
others to pass—all movements being
regulated by telegraph from Port Said,
Ismailia or Suez.
The canal was formally opened by
vessels from nearly all the maritime
nations of Europe, on November 17,
1869, although it was not then fully com
pleted or in a very perfect state. Yet
the gallant projector, who had struggled
for fourteen years to carry his scheme,
was rewarded for his labor and per
severance, having, moreover, had the
satisfaction four years previous, of seeing
the first (a small) vessel go through the
canal.
The navigable depth is 25£ feet with
a width oi 72 feet at the bottom, vary
ing, of course, and at the top according
to the character of the cuttings.
The total cost of the undertaking was
about $100,000,000, much of this being
due to the obstructions placed in the way
of the work by the British Government.
As is now seen, the construction of the
canal has strengthened, rather than
weakened, the commercial importance of
England, and has" increased the growth
and importance of all the islands of the
Pacific and of all the nations of Asia.
The scheme of opposition was evidently
a deeply laid one, and is shown by the
purchase by England, later on, of a large
interest in the canal company’s shares.
Traffic on the canal has greatly in
creased the past ten years, the tonnage
figures vach year being much larger than
the year preceding. Indeed, a vessel at
certain seasons of the year is considered
fortunate in getting through in forty
eight hours. Ttie number of vessels
which passed through the canal in 1888
was 3137, with a gross tonnage of
8,430,043. Ot this number 2330 were
British ships. But three American ves
sels passed through the canal that year.
The management of the canal is as
nearly perfect as it is possible to make
it. Before entering the canal all vessels
are required to drop anchor, and Cap
tains bind themselves to abide by, and
conform to, all required arrangements.
Vessels measuring one hundred tons and
upward must take a company’s pilot for
the whole length of the canal, who indi
cates all particulars concerning the pas
sage through.
Navigation at night is authorized only
under special circumstances when the
Captain’s full responsibility for mishaps
is assumed in writing. Sailing vessels
are obliged to be towed through.
The quickest passage ever known
through the canal was made by the steam
ship Meihong, of the Messageries Mar
itimes. She left Suez at 5 o’clock a. m.,
stopped and landed passengers at Ismailia,
and arrived at Port Said at 7 o'clock p.
m., going through in fourteen hours.
The receipts of the canal in 1888 were
about $12,600,000. The net profits
werea little short of $6,000,000, and the
total dividend paid to shareholders was
151 P er cent.
The following comparisons may be of
interest:
„ , _ „ Length. Breadth. Depth.
North Holland
canal 51 miies. 31 feet. 20 feet.
Caledonian canal 60 " 50 “ 20 “
Suez canal 100 “ 72 “
—New York Commercial Advertiser.
The total population of Greenland at
the end of 1888 was 10,291. There had
been 162 deaths during the previous
year, of which thirty-one had been by
drowning from the native canoes and ten
by other accidents.
A Miser’s Hidden Wealth.
Ample material for a sensational note!
is supplied in the last police reports from
Stockerau, a small town on the left bank
of the Danube, says the London Newt.
About a week ago an old woman of sev
enty—Theresa Schiller—was murdered
by two visitors, who succeeded in escap
ing. She was known to be an old miser,
who lived in rags, with two cats and
dogs, in a little suburban house, which
stands quite isolated* near the railway
station i
The police made an inventory of het
possessions. After seme search it WAs
found that, the dill woman must have
been in relations with all the thieves 01
the Empire. Property which has been
missing for many years was found on het
premises. The clew wfts given by the
discovery bf a valuable watch and chain,
to which a strip of paper was fastened;
with the words; “Bought this of S—for
six florins.”
The watch bore the name of a well
known citizen of Stockerau,out of vVhose
room it had been stolen ten years agO.
The old woman’s clothes were inert rags
and the police at first felt reluctant to
touch them, but when a splendid golded
pyx, set with precious stones* fell out of
a tattered gown,their interest was roused
and every corner was searched. In the
Cellar large pieces Of gold, no doubt
melted ornaments, were found. In the
loft there were boxes with trinkets and
jewels, many of which the police recog
nized as forming part of the Granich
staedten property, the theft of which od
the Grabed caused sO much commotidd
five years ago.
In the mouldering furniture valuables
of every description were found, Such as
chalices* pyxes, golden Candlesticks;
beautiful lace find linen. In a corner dl
a Cupboard lay a bag containing $0,00(1
florins in gold and shares and bond*
vVorth Upward of 40,000 florins. Silvet
spoons and forks were discovered in all
the kitchen drawers. In a little box fiv
black diamonds were found, which are
said to be of enormous value. Only part
of the floor has been pulled up, but large
quantities of linen and valuable dress
materials were hidden there.
The whole property found is believed
to be worth more than half a million ol
florins* and yet the old woman Scarcely
ever allowed herself ft decent meftl* and
had not a piece of respectable clothing on
her when she was found dead. The
fuel she used consisted of little bits 01
coal collected by poor children at the
railway station and sold to her for a few
coppers.
A Hen Bringing Up Kittens.
At Stafford Springs, Conn., a facetious
and determined old hen wanted to sit,
but her owner took away her eggs;
whereupon in querulous mood she quit
her nest and blustered about the home
stead, finding a great deal of fault with
life. While she was doing that the fam
ily cat discovered her artistically wrought
aud rounded nest, curled up in it and
deposited five kittens in it. Then biddy
came back, pitched into pussy, fairly
drove her off the nest, flew in and sat
down on the kittens, evidently inferring
they were anew kind of chickens she had
hatched in a moment of mental abstrac
tion.
For a day or two the hen brooded
away, and the unhappy cat stalked about
the premises, watching an opportunity to
get back her own. At the end of three
(lays the hen had to quit the old stand
for food and water, and promptly the cat
slipped into the nest, and, taking the
kittens one by one by the scruff of the
neck, transported them to a distant part
of the haymow. Then came biddy
home again, and wheu she found the
fledglings flown she raised another noisy
row about tho farm. She looked alow
and aloft, vainly for a while, lor the
missing brood, and finally found them
ranged like pegs on a telegrahh pole
arm alongside the parent cat. Again
there was a battle, and again the old cat
had to flee from the furious henpecking,
but she took along one kitten in her
teeth, while the hen held the field of
battle and four feline spoils.
With the kitten in her teeth the cat
scaled a high scaffold and made for her
self anew home, with her one offspring
by her side, but the old hen is still en
camped on the rest of the kittens in tho
new-made nest. She lays not, neither
does she cackle, but it really looks as if
she was going to bring up the four kits
in spite of all drawbacks and setbacks.
The Stafford Springs man has watched
the proceedings impartially, but with in
terest, and he fancies that he is propri
etor of the only case of cat and hen ab
duction and reabduction. —New Yorl
Sun.
Development of Plant Culture.
Of the 247 cultivated plants enumer
ated by De Candolle, at least forty-four
have been cultivated for more than 4000
years, while only sixtv-seven are known
to be of exclusively modern cultivation.
The earliest husbandmen employed chiefly
annuals and biennials yielding roots,
seeds and fruits suitable for food foi
man, but had only two green vegetables,
and no fodder. The plants cultivated for
less than 2000 years are chiefly artificial
fodders, bulbs, vegetables, medicinal
plants, plants with edible fruits, or nu
tritious or aromatic seeds; and in these
twenty centuries not a single species has
been brought under cultivation that can
rival maize, rice, the sweet potato, the
potato, the bread-fruit, the date cereals,
millets, sorghums, the banana, or soy
some, of which may have been grown
artificially for as much as 6000 years.
Chief among the plants likely to come
under cultivation in the near future arc
species supplying fibres, tan, India
rubber, gutta-percha and spices. The
number of plants suitable for fodder, and
of forest trees which can live in arid
climates, will be increased; but the ad
ditions will be few in temperate coun
tries, and still fewer in cold regions. It
is pio’oabie that at the close of the nine
teenth century men will cultivate on a
large scale and for use about 300 species.
Trenton (N. J.) American.
It is now proposed to bring Cleopatra's
mummy to New York.