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IN THE NIQHT WATCHES.
Sleep visit* not my eyelids; yet I rest
i In a content more deep than any sleep;
’ Nav, rapt in joy my vigil here I keep,
With trembling hands clasped to my eager
I breast.
For one I love, arter long hours of pain,
| Sleeps near me now. Think yon that I
/ could sleep.
Though nee-11 ess now the vigil that 1 keep,
With the dread lifted from my heart and
lirain?
Think you that I would alesp*—would bo
beguiled.
Cheated, of this my joyf Nay, let me fast
From sleep through long, glad hours, to
bear at last
The low, soft breathing of my ailing child*,
-Alice Wellington Hollins, in the Century
A MATCH PREVENTED.
nr 8. a. weiss.
A group of five persons was collected
on the broad, vine-shaded porch of the
old Yaden mansion.
There wat Josie, the acknowledged
mistress of the house, plump and laugh
ing eyed, though with a dignity be
fitting her position; and her brother
Tom, lounging on the top step in cool
linen home neglige ; and their aunt, Mrs.
Bascomb, from the city, fanning herself
in a cane rocker, while her pretty daugh
ter Cora wound a skein of silk, held
for her by a very nice-looking young
man.
This was Mr. Mavhew, a great-nephew
of Mrs. Bascomb’s late husband—in
which relation lay his misfortune, since
that lady, being on princip e strenuously
opposed to the intermarriage of
“cousins,” had, on that ground' alone,
for a whole year objected to his union
with her daughter.
She was a little worried now at his
presence in Covington, though, as that
village was in summer overrun with
visitors fond of scenery and trout fishing,
there was no reason why Mr. Mayhew
should not have come with the rest for
his August vacation.
They all had been talking and laugh
ing over the private theatricals in which,
last winter, when Josie was on a visit to
her aunt, she and Mr. Mayhew had sig
II ally distinguished themselves; but now
a sudden silence fell upon the party, uud
Mr. Mayhew was surprised to observe a
shadow on the faces of all—even of Tom,
oh whose freckled countenance nature
seemed to have stamped a perennial
grin.
Glancing around, he could discorn no
cause for this sudden change, unless it
might be the appearance on the lawn of
a mild-looking old gentleman and a slim
aud vivacious lady of perhaps thirty.
Mr. Mayhew ventured to inquire of
Tom who they were.
“One is Uncle Joseph,” replied that
young man, with characteristic frankness,
“and the other—the lady—is the Widow
Chamberlain, our future aunt-in law.
They’re an eugaged young couple.”
All three ladies glanced reproachfully
at him, but only Josie spoke:
“I don't see, Tom, how you can speak
so lightly of what is really so distressing
to us all. One would imagine that you
had no feeling for poor, dear Uncle
Joseph.”
“Why!” said Mayhew, pooled. “I
should think Mr. Vaden was to be con
gratulated.
Josie, who, in the conviction that
her aunt would have to “give in” some
time as regarded Mr. Mayhew, already
looked upon him as one of the family,
spoke out, unreservedly:
“If she cared for him, it would be an
altogether different thing. But it is his
money that she wants, ns everybody but
himself can see."
“Does she reside in Covington?”
“She resides wherever she finds it most
convenient—with her relatives, or at
boardinghouses. Naturally she wishes
a home of her own, and it seems that this
place of uncle’s just suits her taste.”
“She was here at the hotel last sum
mer,” Tom drawled, “fishing for Her
ring.”
“Herring? Trout you menn.”
“I mean Captain Paul Herring, the
richest bachelor in Covingtou. But ho
wasu’t as fresh a fish as she thought
him, aud wouldn't bite, so this summer
she came back to angle for Uncle Jo
seph. She’s got him on the grass
now'.”
“Tom I” said Josie, severely. *
“What could my poor, dear, innocent
minded brother be expected to do against
the wiles and cunningof such a woman?"’
said Mrs. Bascomb, deprccatingly. “Of
eonrse it isn't his money that we care
for, since we are all independent of any
disposition that he may see fit to make
of it; but it is dreadful to think of his
marrying this heartless woman, and
bcintr made miserable for the rest of his
life.”
‘ ‘And our home has been such a happy
one,” said Joaie, with tears in her eyes.
“She will have her own way and alt>r
everything to suit herself, and it will
hardly be a home to him any more.”
“Couldn’t you get him to break the
engagement?” May hew inquired, sympa
thetically.
“We have warned him of her merce
nary views,” Mrs. Bascomb replied, “but
it is of no use. I can see that he is not
happy, and that lie really secretly regrets
having been led by his sympathy for her
affected loneliness and interest in himself,
to offer her a home and his hand; but he
considers himself bound in honor by his
engagement. ”
“And if be broke it,” Tom put in,
“she would sue for breach of promise.
It would take a pile of ten or twenty
thousand one-dotlar notes to plaster and
heal her lacerated heart.”
“Tne only chance for him,” said Josie,
“is for some richer suitor to present him
self, In that case she would make noth
ing of throwing over uncle.”
“It isn't likely that such a chance will
offer,” said Mrs. Bascomb.
And then, after a moment’s silence,
she added, with much feeling;
“I don’t see that anything whatever
can be done. And yet I would give half
pf all I possess, or do anything in the
world for the person who would break
off this match!”
Cora, having finished winding her
silk, had stepped into the house to put
it nway. Her lover took a seat near Mrs.
Bascomb.
“If I brpak off your brothel’s match,”
he said, “may I rely ujron the promise
you have just made?”
“Certainly,” she answered, “though
I don t expect that you will ever be able
to claim it.”
“I call upon you, Mis* Josie and Tom,
to be witnesses to the bargain.”
“Why, how do you propoM to pro
ceed!" inquired Josie.
“I played the rich cieole lover to you
last winter. Why should I not act it as
well now to—to any lady who can her
self play a part?”
Josie clasped her hands in delight, and
Tom’s classic countenance was illumined
with a smile which displayed the whole
of hn irreproachable fpt of teeth.
“Oh, if yoi"* And we will all
help you 1 And how fortunate that no
body here knows you! And oh, what
a blessing it will be to everybody! aud
what funJ ( io excitedly exclaimed.
“But remember, young jicople, there
must be no fibbing.”
“Certainly not, Aunt Maria! The
plain, unvariehed truth is all that we
shall need.”
“Hist!” said Torn, tragically. “She
comes.”,
Oheyirjg a signal from .Josie, Mayhew
disappeared into the house.
Thu widow came up the steps, all
smiles, bangs and fluttering ribbons.
“I have left Mr. Vaden at the gate
talking to Doctor James,” she simpered.
“We have been criticising the appearance
of the house, and I suggested that this
old-fashioned porch and the gabled roof
he removed, and a Grecian portico and
mansnrd substituted. Don't you agree
that it would be a great improvement?”
Mrs. Bascomb flushed, and an angry
reply was ou her lips, but she checked
herself.
“I think it would,” said Tom gravely.
“Especially if there’s a Gothic how-win
dow, and a tower or Chinese pagoda or
something on the roof to afford a better
view. Won't it, Joe?”
“It will make little difference to me,"
replied his sister, “as I don’t expect to
live here always."
“Indeed?” said the widow, with inter
est, delighted at the idea of getting rid
of Mr. Vadeu’s favorite niece. “Mqy I
presume that there isnnother person con
cerned, Mis Josephine?”
“I—really I haven’t quite mndc up my
mind,” she replied, looking down and
trying to blush.
“You’ll have to, pretty soon,” blurted
out Tom, “What is he here for, I’d like
to know, if it isn't to persuade somebody
to sav yes?”
Mrs. Bascomb caught his side-glancc
and wineod a little, while the widow in
quired :
“What ! is he in Covington?"
“Came to-day,” said Tom, chewing a
straw. “When Josie was at Aunt
Maria's last winter, he was a constant
visitor, and everybody could see how
things stood. I knew that he would
turn up here some time.”
“For shame, Tom!” said Josie, gig
ling. “Mr. Mayhew's a very nice gentle
man, but it isn’t at all certain that I
shall ever marry him. People might say
I was marrying for money, and that
would make me feel real mean."
The widow glanced sharply at, her, but
she did not raise her eyes from the flowers.
“So this beau of your sister's is rich?”
she inqured.
“I should think so—rather 1 I heard
Judge Fellows, who introduced him to
Aunt Marla, telling her about him, and
the judge is a man whose word is to be
relied on. He said the ge . tie man hail
just come in possession of an immense
fortune—a cotton plantation on the Mis
sissippi worth a million of dollars, and
valuable real estate in Spain, besides
owning an interest in the groat gold
mines of—what was the name, Aunt
Maria?”
“Bubblcazoo!” replied Mrs. Bascomb,
coughing behind her fan.
It was with difficulty that she and Jo
sie could repress a smile, for Tom was
relating what had actually occurred in
the play of “The Creole Lover.”
“Uncle Joseph,” resume! Tom,
“thinks himself very well off; but what
is his property compare 1 with Mr. May
lrew’s? And you ought to see his dia
mond solitaire ring and studs! Why, if
lie were presented at court in them,
they’d make Queen Victoria stare.”
“Oh, nonsense, Tom!" said Josie.
! “You exaggerate everything. Mr. May
hew never makes a vulgar display of his
diamonds, and to see w hat a polite, un
; assuming young man lie is, no one would
imagine him to bo so rich.”
Next evening Mrs. Chamberlain was
introduced to Mr. Mavhew, who ap
peared in the diamond ring and studs
( mentioned by Torn.
He was evidently impressed with the
| lively and coquettish widow, and she
i was very gracious, their acquaintarce
| thenceforth progressed rapidly.
Josie began to look a little sullen, and
i when Mrs. Chamberlain paid her usual
! daily visits to the house, she found her
i self, as she thought, not very cordially
1 received by the girls.
She artfully teased Josie about “her
■ beau,” and inquired when the wedding
j was to be, while exerting herself to the
utmost to take advantage of Mr. May*
, hews evident admiration for herself,
j She had the advantage of being at the
same hotel with him,and there were tete
j a-tetes and saunterings and drives, in
i which she sometimes encountered Mr.
i Yaden’s family, and even the old gentle
; man himself.
At first she appeared slightly embar
-1 rassed, but after awhile assumed an air
of indifference and cool confidence.
! For a whole week she did not come
| near the Vaden house, and when at
| length she did appear, she and Josie had
some words together.
“As an engaged woman,” Josie said,
I “it docs strike me that you are a good
■ deal with Mr. Mavhew.”
“Engaged people,” the widow jm
j swered, flushing, “and also people who
j were never quite enimged, sometimes
change tbeir minds. Perhaps I have
changed mine; and it may be that your
friend, Mr. Mayhew, has changed his.”
“What do you mean?” said Josie, ex
citedly.
“I mean that I was unfortunately mis
taken in supposing that I loved your
uncle, whom I yet sincerely esteem; and
ircrhapa Mr. Mcyhew has made a similar
discovery in regard to himself. He re
spects you very much; but, since it has
come to this between us, I may as well,
in self-defense, mention that Sir. May
hew has informed me that he never
seriously asked you to marry him, neither
has any intention of doing so. He says
that what passed between you was an
amusement merely, and his heart is an
other’s!”—this with a conscious simper
of triumph.
“He did? Oh, the unprincipled
wretch!” cried Josie.
The widow rose, as if anxious to escape
a scene.
“I came this evening to bid you good
bye, and to request that you will kindly
deliver this note to your uncle. I find
myself compelled to leave to-morrow
early; and an interview with Mr. Yaden
is scarcely necessary, and would be pain
ful to both.”
She sailed away, and the family, who
from the next room had heard it all, saw
her joined at the corner of the street by
faithless Mayhew.
Uncle Joseph, whet he read the note,
heaved a long-drawn and ponderous sigh,
as though an immense load were thereby
taken off his mind. He had not in two
months appeared so cheerful as on this
eve ling.
Next day Mr. Mayhew came, bright
and eager.
“Did you really propose to her?” was
Josie’s inquiry, as she rushed to meet him
in the hall.
“No. I merely expressed my scruples
against proposing to an engaged woman,
aud she last evening assured me that she
was bound by no engagement to Mr.
Vaden. And that being the case, my
dear Mrs. Bascomb, may I claim mv re
ward?”
“I suppose I shall have to keep my
word. You have certainly 4 one us 11
great service,” she replied, with tears in
her eyes.
“Then you say yes?” said Josie, eag
erly.
“Yes.”
He stretched out his banc’, to blushing
Cora, and Tom, spreading both hands
above their heads, said, fervently:
“Bless you, my children!” —Saturday
Night.
Making Oil of Sassafras.
An interesting description is given by
Mr. T. C. Harris, of North Carolina, in
Popular Science Netc*, of the process used
in the manufacture of the oil of sassafras
and oil of pennyroyal in the old North
State. The apparatus used in this work
is so exceedingly rude and primitive ns
to appear ridiculous to most observers.
The still is constructed by digging a
short trench in the ground, ending in a
low flue or chimney, aud over this trench
is placed a closed wooden box, having a
sheet-iron bottom and an auger hole on
top, through which water is poured. An
ordinary barrel stands endwise on top
of the steambox, and has several holes
bored through its bottom and also
through the top of the steambox, allow
ing steam to pass freely up through the
barrel. A lute of clay is used to close
the joint between the lower end of the
barrel and the steambox, as well as the
cover of the barrel. Instead of a
“worm," a tin pipe immersed in a
trough of cold water is used, and a
steam connection with the barrel is
generally made by an elbow branch of
wood, bored out with au auger. The
sassafras tree grows abundantlyin North
Carolina, especially on woruout lands,
where it is usually found in dense thick
ets of small shrubs. The root is dug and
washed free of dirt, aud after being
chopped short and bruised with a hatch
et, is ready for the “still.” This work
is done by boys employed by the manu
facturer, who pays a stated pnee per
hundred pounds for the root ready foi
use.
When the barrel is filled with the
roots and the cover made tight with clay
the process of distillation goes on rapid
ly. The steam passes through the mass
of bruised roots, and is condensed by the
tin tube into a mixture of distilled water
and oil, and runs into a glass vessel set
to receive it. Being of different densi
ties, the oil and water rapidly settle into
two strata, and at once can be decanted
from the other.
It is said that the operator of such a
“still” cau pay all running expenses and
make a clear profit of ill per day. When
we consider that the cost of establishing
such a “factory” is less than §lO for the
entire plant, and no chemical education
is necessary on the part of the operator,
the profit of the work is not to be
despised.
The same outfit is used in the produc
tion of oil of pennyroyal, which grows
abundantly in the woods in many coun
ties.
Glad She Jilted the Judge.
The famous Police Judge Duffy,of New
York city, is generally stern and digni
fied, but he was completely upset the
other day by a remarkable occurrence.
I It seems that a prisoner in his court of
! feredas bail Mrs. Sarah A. Hall, wife of
the music publisher. “Can anyone pres
ent identify you?” asked the Judge. “I
think you can do that,” replied Mrs.
Hall, smiling sweetly. Judge Duffy de
manded an explanation, whereupon
Mrs. Hall told him that when he taught
school twenty years ago she was a teach
er in the same institution, and that he
had then asked her to marry him.
There was a giggle in court, and the
Judge, making the best of it, said:
“And I suppose you are glad that you re
fused me?” “Very glad, sir,” was the
startling reply. Judge Duily hastily ac-'
cepted the bond and darted out of the
court-room without his hat, followed by
one of the officers, who carried it to
him. The veteran Police Judge was
never so badly rattled in all his life, and
all New York is laughing at his dis
comfiture. — Atlanta Constitution.
BUDGET OF FUX.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM:
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Very Like a Tree—How He Knew—
Tire Beggar Scorned Platitudes
—Expensive—Enough lor
One Man, Etc., Etc.
They sat upon the portico— *
The hour was late indeed!
Fair Nellie yawned incessantly,
But Harry took no heed.
• Why are you like that blasted trae?"
Poor boy could not conceive.
“Because,” she answered sleepily—
“ Because you do not leave.”
—The Jury.
HOW HE EXEW.
“Has your girl a keen sense of the
ridiculous?”
“Yes, she laughs all the time I am
with her." —Detroit Free Press.
EXPENSIVE.
“So she said she would be a sister to
you? What did you say? - ’
“I told her it wouldn't- work and she
would have to tako me off her ice cream
list.”
“And she?”
“She got mail.” —New Turk Herald.
TtlF. HEGUAII SCORNED rLATITUDES.
A beggar was pursuing his calling in
the street.
“Are you not ashamed," asked a
passer-by, “to follow a trade like that
when you are able to work?”
“Sir,” replied the barefooted one,
with Castiliau pride, “it was money,not
advice, that I asked you for.”— Chatter.
NOT ALT, HONEY MOON SHINE EITHER.
“There’s no happiness,” said he en
thusiastically, “like the happiness of
married lovers. Their life is all sun
shine.”
“No,” replied the practical young
widow, “you’re wrong there. I’ve tried
married happiness myself, you know,
and I tell you it's all moonshine.”—
Somerville Journal.
THE PROPER AUTHORITY.
Algernon (kissing his fiancee) —“When
shall it be, Arabella?”
Arabella—“We must let papa decide
that. He's a retired sea-captain, you
know.”
Algernon—“ Why, what has that to
do with the date of our marriage!”
xYrabella—“Why, Algernon, isn’t it a
maritime question?”— Judge.
HAPPINESS WAS THEIRS.
First Anglomaniac—“Just think of it,
Chawles, I thaw the Prince of Walthe as
he was going into the Victoria Hotel this
ma wuiug.”
Second Anglomaniac- -“\Wfcally,Gawge?
And I saw him as he was coming out.”
First Anglomaniac—“That is honor
enough for one day. Let us return to
our home.” —Yankee Blade.
A CONUNDRUM.
Cholly—“Me haberdasher, the beastly
cad, actually insulted me,c(oncherkaow.”
Freddie—“ Did he? What did ho say?”
“Why, he asked me if I hail any idea
when I intended to settle his bill.”
“Well, don’t feel so hard against him.
The poor fellow probably wasn't aware
that you’re not much good at guessing
conundrums.” —Teams Siftings.
ENOUGH FOR ONE MAN.
“Doctor Deepsearch is a wonderful
man.”
“Why, what has he done that's won
derful?”
“He has discovered over fifty new
diseases.”
“Cau ho cure them all?"
“Oh, no, indeed 1 He leaves that for
someone else to do!” —Lawrence Ameri
can.
PLENTY OF THIS KIND OF CUSTO.MF.US.
Man With Watch (handing it over) —
“It hasn't been three weeks since you
cleaned and overhauled this watch, and
it's out of order again. It won't go.”
AVatchmaker (examining it, winding it
up and handing it back) —“That is all it
needed,”
Mau with watch goes away in a tow
ering rage and watchmaker lias lost a cus
tomer.— Chicago Tribune.
SHORTEST FORENSIC SPEECH KNOWN.
The presiding Judge, knowing the
habitual verbosity of C , the counsel
for the defense, said to him:
“Mr. G , I would ask you to ba
brief for once.”
The barrister stood up, and, add xss
ing the jury, delivered himself as follows:
“My opponent is wrong; 1 am right;
you arc the best judges.”
The jury acquitted the prisoners. —ll
Secolo.
time's changes.
Whiffers—“Ah! How de do? AVell,
out with it, old man. What success?
You said you were going badk to your
native town to hunt up your first love,
from whom you parted years ago—the
‘airy, fairy Lillian’ you raved about, you
know. Did you find her?”
Bliffers (sadly)—“Y-e-s. She’s draw
ing S2O a week as the champion fat
woman of a dime museum.” —New York
Weekly.
SPITE.'
Clara—“So you are really engaged to
Tom, are you? That’s a pretty ring you
have, but it is not the same one I re
turned to him after we quarreled.”
Sophie—“No; Tom said it was anew
one.”
Clara—“l suppose Tom is in earnest
this time, so he got struck with a fit of
economy, and sold the other ring and
bought this one, and put the balance in
the bank.”— Harper's Bazar.
A BUSINESS EYED GIRL.
Timpani (jeweler>—“Say,Bobby,come
here, and tell me, like a good little boy,
if you ever heard your sister Gweudolin
say anything about me.”
Bobby—" Yesterday she said timamma
that it would be a good thing for yon if
you married her, as then the wedding
ring would cost you nothing and all her
friends would buy the presents at your
store, and perhaps you might sell them
afterward. ” — Jewelers' Circular .
SHE WAS EMBARRASSED.
Bobby (at the breakfast table) —
"Clara, did Mr. Spooner take any of the
umbrellas or hats from the hall last
night?”
Clara—" Why, of course not; why
should he?”
Bobby—" That’s what I’d like to know.
I thought he did, ’cos I heard him say
when he was going out: ‘l’m going to
steal just one,’ and, why, what's the
matter, Clara?”— Boston Herald.
A TRICK OF THE TRADE.
Grocer (to son) —“I see that you don't
know how to buy watermelons.”
Son—“ Why so?”
Grocer—" Because all those you hare
selected have short stems.”
Bon—“Does that make any differ
ence?”
Grocer—“Of course it does. When
they have long stems, you can cut off
part of the stem every day and by that
■means have fresh melons every day.”—
Arkansaw Traveler.
A LOVE PARADOX.
Miss Rosalie (a fair bud) —"Well, I
do declare, if Cholly Boggs hasn’t gone
and engaged himself to May Parsons! I
never saw such a fickle youth!”
Her Confidante: —"Why, did he pro
pose to ycu?”
Miss Rosalie—“No, not exactly; but
at the last ball he said he would keep
me in his mind.”
Confidante—" Why, Rosalie Dutton,
how can you be so foolish! Don’t you
know he hasn’t any mind at all!”—Har
per's Bazar.
WHY THE WOOD WAS TOUGHER.
“Well,” said the old man to the boy
at the woodpile, “what are you granting
so about? You can fly around like a
young stud horse when you’re playing
with the boys,but the moment I mention
woodpile, you’re clean gone at once,
ain’t you?”
“But, pop,” said the boy, “this wood
is awfully hard.”
“Hard; why, in my day I used to saw
up a cord a day and didn’t make any
fuss about it either.”
"But pop, this wood is tougher than
it was in your day; for it’s fifty years
older, you know.”
Pop gave him a fifteen minutes’, re
prieve for his smartness and advised ihirn
to look out for brain fever. —New York
Mercury.
CRUSHED AGAIN.
"I—l hate to make you any extra
trouble,” he said to the chief clerk at the
postoffice yesterday.
“Well?”
“Well, I wrote to my girl two days
ago and have received no answer. I’m
awfully careless and perhaps I neglected
to stamp it.”
"Yes. Very important letter?”
“Very. In fact I popped the ques
tion.”
“11l look among the dead letters.”
A search was made but nothing was
found of the letter.
“It must have reached'her,” said the
clerk, as he returned.
"Then I don’t understand it.”
“I’m sure I can’t. Have you read
the list of marriage licences for yester
day?”
“N—no!” gulped the young man.
"I’ll get a paper.”
In ten minutes he was back, his eyes
hanging out and his face like chalk, and
in a hoarse whisper he said:
"That’s the reason.”
"What?”
"Married to another feller last night.”
"Humph!”
"Thanks for your trouble. When I
am* dead you ”
He broke away, overcome by emo
tion, but as ho was seen devouring a
banana two hours later with great relish
it is suspected that he still lives.— Detroit
Free Press.
PULLING THE R-R-R-RAIfBIT OUT.
The old doctor and the old captain
were fast friends, both inveterate jokers,
and both, despite their aggregate six
score years, rabid sportsmen. The doc
tor’s frightful stammer did not seem to
impede the flow of a joke, nor did the
captain's equatorial girth lessen his agil
ity.
One afternoon the old men set out on
a rabbit hunt. As they passed through
an orchard something scurried into a
burrow.
“A r-r-wist-rabbit!” shouted the doc
tor, “l-!-let’s p-pull him out;” and
kneeling at the hole he thrust his arm in
up to the shoulder. "S-s-say,” he re
marked, after a moment’s fumbling, “I
c-c-wist-can’t q-quite g-get h-him. Y-y
--uh-you t-try it, John, y-y-uh-your arm’s
l-longer than m-m-wist mine.”
The captain knelt and thrust his arm
down. In an instant he was executing a
war dance around the tree, waving a
bloody finger.
"Blankety-blank-blank. That’s no
rabbit; it’s a ground hog.”
"D-d—wist—did he bite you, J-John?”
queried the doctor, anxiously.
"Bite? Blankety-blank! Don’t you
see he took off the whole end of my fin
ger?”
"Wh-wh—uh—why, that’s t-too b-b
—wist—bad,” said the doctor, taking
his own hand from behind him, and
showing a badly lacerated thumb. “He-e
b-b—-wist—bit me too I ” — Editor's
Drawer , Harper's.
The French Minister of War lately
offered a prize for the swiftest bird in
flight from Perigueux to Paris, 310
miles. Tlmre were 2746 entries, the
winner doing the distance in seven hours
and thirty-four minutes, or at forty-three
miles an hour.
Engraving on plates and wood l>egan
1 about the middle of the fifteenth century.
GOLD BEATING.
A VERY “ANCIENT AND HONORA
BLE" TRADE.
Processes of Beating Gold Into
Extremely Thin Leaves —lt
Takes 2X0,000 Leaves to
Make a Solid Inch.
In a basement on Third street is the
Dnly gold beater’s shop in this city. It has
been there for eleven years and every day
of those eleven years the bang, bang of
the beater's hammer has gone on, yet few
people know there is a representative of
the “ancient and honorable” trade in our
city.
Ancient it is, indeed, having been in
existence among the Greeks, Romans and
Egyptians. Whether they used the same
processes as those now used or not is not
known, but it is thought they were very
like those of to-day. The first record of
gold beating is that of a German monk
named Theopilus in the twelfth century.
The gold used in gold beating is pure
gold alloyed wifih copper and silver to
suit the color required. When the gold
is any lower than twenty-three carats
fine it is alloyed with pure silver, as cop
per makes it too harsh to beat. Sixteen
carat gold has so much taken the color
of silver that it would be mistaken for
that metal.
The gold is melted in crucibles of Ger
man sand. It is then poured into ingots,
forged and rolled as thin as writing
paper. This is then cut into little pieces
about one inch square, weighing about
one and one-half ounces. Each man
gets SSO worth of these twice a week.
These are placed in what is known as a
kutch, which is simply a package of
French paper about four inches square.
Th'-a French paper is a sort of imitation
p /rchment and is used in the first process
I /cause the gold is then too thick to put
fi books pf so-called skin. In this
Xjtch. which is fitted into an envelope
W* parchment, the gold is beaten with a
Axteen-pound hammer until about four
riches square. This beating is done
with a peculiar motion. The hammer
comes down and is allowed to rebound
to about the height of the beater's head.
He then seems to catch it and throw a
Ittle higher, ani allows it to comedown
without any appareut effort. The beater
stands at his work and moves the upper
half of his body with the hammer.
These four-inch pieces of leaf are
token out of this “kutch” and cut into
quarters. This is done with what is
known as a “wagon,” a little sled-like
arrangement with the runners made of
split reeds, sharpened with a knife.
They are exceedingly sharp and cut with
great ease. Then those quarters are put
into a “shoder,” which is a book of
“skin,” as it is called. This skin is made
of the intestines of bulls and is very ex
pensive. Here it is again beaten until it
is about four inches square. It is then
quartered and beaten again in “skin”
books or “molds.” Each mold contains
1000 leaves.
To clear these leaves of skin of the
gold that adheres to them they are
sprinkled with “brime,” which is to be
burned and ground up,and then brushed
with an English hare’s foot. The
American rabbit’s foot isn’t fine-haired
enough.
After the leaf is taken from the mold,
having received its third beating, it is
trimmed carefully until three and three
eighth inches square. These are then
put in little books, twenty-five leaves
to a book. Twenty books of twenty-five
leaves each make a pack, which sells for
about $7. When the leaf is ready for
sale it is so thin that it takes 280,000
leaves, placed one on the other to make a
•olid inch.
To learn the goldbeater’s trade re
quires an apprenticeship of four years.
It is indeed more a science than a trade.
Machinery has been introduced in some
places to do the beating, but it can only
be used in the first and second process,
as the third requires the skill and knowl
edge of just how hard to strike, owing
to the different weights of the gokb
The beating is done on “stones” of
Italian marble set in the floor. On
account of these stones the business can
not be carried on in any but a ground
floor.
The sweepings are all kept and refined
for the gold that is in them. The broken
crucibles, too, are kept and the gold
gotten out of them. Everything must
be kept perfectly dry, so as to prevent
the leaf from sticking. In handling the
leaf a pair of boxwood pincers are em
ployed. The foil would stick so to the
fingers as to make it impossible to handle
them.
The foil is used principal for signs
and for gilding the edges and binding^ of
books. One of the largest users of foil
in this city is a playing card firm, who
use it for gilding the edges of their cards.
Dentists’ leaf is made of pure gold and is
not made in this city at all.
To get the parchment needed the Cin
cinnati firm buys up old deeds, in
dentures and the like. They have a roll
of parchments down there that would
make an antiquarian’s eyes sparkle. Most
of them are English and of the eighteenth
century, although sometimes one of the
sixteenth is come across,— Cincumati
Times-Star.
A Snow Plant From the Sierra.
One of the rarest plants known to bo
tanists has been brought to this city by
E. L. Swartz, and is now on exhibition
in the windows cf a down town florist.
It is known as the snow plant and was
found by Mr. Swartz growing near snow
banks in the Sierras, 6500 feet above the
sea level. The plant is indigenous to
high and frozen altitudes and is a variety.
It grows to the height of four or five
inches, and when it blooms, which is
soon after the spring thaw, it bears tne
appearance of a dark-reddish pine cone
set upright on the ground. It emits an
odor that is not unlike that of the honey
suckle. The value attached to it is on
account of its rarity, and the plant se
cured by Mr. Swartz is doubtless the first
ever brought to this rittf.— San Francisco
Bxaminer.
Wild Game in California.
Asa sporting ground California is
bound to become widely known in the
future. There are primeval forests in
our Sierra, and mountain lakes and
streams that dwarf into insignificance
the woods and lakes of the Adirondack,
which for years have been one of the
great sporting districts of the East. As
overland railway facilities improve, these
mountain attractions should draw many
sportsmen every summer from the great
cities of the East. Hundreds go every
year to Florida to shoot alligators. That
would prove slugglish sport after they
had once cornered a grizzly or chased a
California lion to his canon home. Up
around Mount Whitney, in,lnyo County,
is a vast hunting ground, yet compara
tively unknown. Those who have fished
in the lakes there tell wonderful stories,
which have more fact about them than is
often found at such times. During the
past few years different clubs, formed
chiefly for duck shooting, have leased
thousands of acres of available marsh
lands near the city. These lands they
have set apart for the use of their mem
bers, and trusted guardinns threaten
charges of buckshot at the outside sports
man who may unwittingly trespass on
the leased property. Not long ago one
club secured over 7000 acres of tide land
in lower Sonoma County, and now notices
of exclusion scare the unwary anfateur
who may not belong to the club. The re
sult of this practice is that the free-lance
hunter, who cannot afford club member
ship, has to travel far to find good and
free sport. On the other hand, these
clubs do much to encourage what may be
called fair sport, aud to preserve the game
at the proper season. —San Francisco
Bulletin.
Japan’s Lucky Fish.
K. Osoka, a merchant of Tokio, Japan,
declares that Japan will experience noth
ing but prosperity thrs year. This decla
ration is based on a unique and never
failing sign, according to the foreigner.
“The king of good luck has appeared on
our shores,” explained Mr. Osoka, "and
his capture is worth more than a million
yens.”
A few weeks ago the capture of a
strange fish at Niigati-Ken was reported.
It resembled a tia in many respects. It
was six feet in length, its body was of a
bright red color with little polka dots
scattered about, and it had a long, flow
ing golden beard. The beard was twe
feet in length and as fine as silk. When
the fish was landed crowds from all over
the country came to Niigati-Ken to view
the strange sight. For days it was a
mystery until an old fisherman eighty
years of age saw it.
"Praise the Lord,” he exclaimed, when
he first saw the bright-colored fish. “It
is the fukutai, and has not been seen in
the waters of our land for fifty years.
Fuku-tai, when translated, means the
tai of- happiness, and our ancestors called
the fish the king of good luck. It is the
sign of plentiful catches, increased busi
ness, and general prosperity throughout
the land. Fifty years ago, when the last
was seen in Japan, a great feast was held
in its honor and prosperity followed. A
grand jollification was indulged in this
time, and so far the good ldck has in
creased. The fish was purchased by one
of the richest men in it will
be placed on exhibition at the National
Fair now being Held at Tokio.”—Chi
cago Tribune. ,
Beetles In Furnltnre.
In the entomological part of the forty
first annual report of the trustees of the
New York State Museum of National
History, lately published, reference is
made to the statements which have been
advanced as to the long imprisonment of
beetles within furniture. The writer
suggests that, when such cases occur, the
conditions may bring about a lethargic
state, in which respiration and accom
panying phenomena are almost or entire
ly suspended through the complete ex
clusion of air (a hermetic sealing) by the
rubbing, oiling, varnishing, or other pol
ishing which the furniture has under
gone. As. an instance of prolonged vi
tality,he quotes an extract from the third
report on the insects of New York, by
Dr. Fitch. In this passage, Dr. Fitch
says: "In 1786, a son of General Israel
Putuuni, residing in Williamstown,
Mass., had a table' made from one of his
apple-trees. Many years afterward, the
gnawing of an insect was heard in one of
the leaves of this table, which noise con
tinued for a year or two, when a large,
long-horned beetle made its exit there
from. Subsequently, the same noise was
heard again, ami another insect, and af
terward a third, all of the same kind, is
sued from this table leaf, the first one
coming out twenty and the last one
twenty-eight years after the tree was cut
down. —New York Ledger.
Curioas Work Done by a Clock.
Darius L. Goff, at Pawtucket, R. 1., is
one of the proprietors of the great braid
works, but has a fancy for mechanical
and electrical experiments. He has in
his front hall a tall, old-fashioned clock,
au heirloom, which, strange to say, never
runs down. It stands near the front door,
and is connected with it by a rod with
gearing attachments. Whenever the
door is opened or closed the winding ar
rangements are given a turn, so that the
act of entering or leaving the house keeps
the clock constantly wound. But this is
not all. By means of electrical appliances
operated by the clock in its movements,
the gas jet in the hall is raised at duik
and lowered at bedtime, an early rlairg
bell is rang in the servants’ hall, a lt|D
rising bell is rung to summon the far*y
from their repose, and still an hour iafc#
the clock riugs the breakfast bell. lVh<4’
ever it strikes the .hour, softly music*-
cathedral chimes are struck simultaneously
in the chambers, and for a moment the
house is filled with melody. Had Mr.
Goff lived iuiu coajured in witchcraft
days he would certainly have been hanged.
—-Boston Advertiser.
The consumption of tinned salmon in
Englaud has attained the extraordinary
total of 19,200,000 pc ’ads, or more
than 8500 tons annually.