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Farm-Yard Mnnnre. 1 Farm-yard manure is & general ma nure; it is also termed a complete ma . nure because it supplies all the essential elements of plant food. Its composition varies according to the character of the animals contributing to it, the quality of their food and the nature and the pro portion of the litter. Its value also de- Eends upon the method in which it has cen prepared. Farm-yard manure consists of tho liquid and solid excrements of the farm Block and the straw, sawdust or other material employed as litter. It will contain from 65 to HO per font, of water. The nitrogen may be 0.40 to 0.65 per cent., or higher, if produced by highly fed animals. The ash constituents will be 2.5 to 3.0 per cent., exolusive of tho Band and earth present. Of these ash constituents 0.4 to 0.7 will bo potash and 02 to 0.4 phosphoric acid. In a word, one ton of farm-yard manure will supply, according to conditions already specified, from nine to fifteen pounds of nitrogen, a similar amount of potash and from four to nine pounds of phosphoric acid. A consideration of some of the causes that affect tho quality of barn-yard manure may assist the inexDorienced farmer. An animal neither gaining nor losing weight, as a working-horse, will produce excrements containing about the same amount of nitrogen and ash constituents as was present in tho food consumed. If, on the other hand, the animal ie increasing in size, is producing young or furnishing milk or wool, the nitrogen and ash constituents in the excrements will be less than those con tained in tho food, the difference ap pearing as animal increase. In a word, the farmer will not obtain as rich a ma nure from a cow in full milk, or from a rapidly growing pig, as from his work ing horse with the same food. Even more than tho character of the animal does tho character of the food affect the quality of manure. A diet, for instance, including a liberal amount of oil-cake or beans, will yield a manure rich in nitrogen and ash constituents, when a diet of maize and straw chaff will produce a manure poor In nitrogen and phosphate*. The constituents of food which are important as ingredients of manure are the nitrogen and ash ele ments, but chiefly the nitrogen, this be ing the most costly Ingredient of com mercial fertilizers. Oil-oakes yield the richest manure. Next to these come the leguminous seeds, molt dust, nhd bran, fiiover hay yields a richer manure than the cereal grains, while meadow hay is rated below these. The oercal grains and the mots contain about tho same proportion of nitrogen in their dry sub stance, but tho roots supply more potash. Potatoes stand below roots In manurial value, and straw takes the lowest place as a manure-yielding food. Bean and pea straw arc more valuable for this purpose than the straw of the cereals. 1 Many scientists and not u few farmors believe that animal manure is mnro ira med.atelv available for the use of plants when applied directly to tho land than whon previously mixed with a groat bulk of litter, as fermentation with litter probably results in the formation of nitrogenous humus compounds, which are insoluble and decompose but slowly in the soil. The uso of litter in the preparation of farm-yard manure is, however, u necessity, especially in tho winter time. Scientists, some of them at least, assert that the immediate return from an application of farm-yard manure is much loss than from the same amount of plant food applied in artificial manures. The effeet of farm-yard manure, however, is spread over a considerable number of years. Away With Tronaers. Tho worst and ugliest feature in mod ern costume* is the trousers. Pre viously to the beginning of the prosent century this ungraceful article was un known. In the far-distant past the Phrygians had worn trousers, but they were loose and of thin material, falling into pleasing folds, bat nowhere that I know of, whether on vase or wall, in missal, window, or hook, do we find the shape of the leg concealed in the wav in which the nineteenth century conceals it. Why’ is this so? Why are these things hiddenP Are the calvei of the present day loaner than of yore? Or is it that we have grown honest enough to despise padding them, and are obliged, therefore, to hide them away? The exact reasons which led to the in troduction of trousers aro perhaps hardly worth seeking; they seem, how ever, to have been evolved "at the more dicta'o of fashion from the tight trousers and Wellingtons of the early part of the century, these, in turn, having grown from the knee-breeches and stockings of fifty years earlier, lint what is im portant to bear in mind is t hat history nn-s no record of a garment at once so sim ple and so ugly as trousers. We tire going clean against all precedent in shrouding our limbs in cloth funnels devoid of graceful shape and incapable of folds. And this departure from ancestral wis dom has no particular advantage to re commend it. Trousers aro not econo mical inasmuch as they get baggy at the knee long before they are worn out. They are always getting dirty at the ankles. They aro not specially adapted either for cold or wet. On a wot dav te'MlW feT changing the whole garment. Indeed, it is the way in which they ignore the knee-joints "which renders trousers prac tically so objectionable. It is at this joint that they drag, and not only spoil their own shape, but inflict a sense of tightness over the whole body by means of braces. The mere discarding of trousers, and substituting knickerbockers and stock ings, would effect a great reform in male costumes, a more striking and salutary chauge than any other detail, except perhaps the abolition of the tophat. It u almost a waste of breath to declaim against trousers, their hideonsnass is so generally admitted. Sculptors and painters have found them quite intracta ble, and resorted in despair to oiotbing men of the nineteenth century in Roman drapery. Examine what record of cos tume you like, and you will find the shape of the lower part of the leg cither displayed or clothed with an interesting boot until you oorne to this century. Turn over the pages of AiticA, aod you can not fail to he struck with the superi ority of knickerbockers over trousers froth a picturesque point of view, while for oouifort and utility they are equal v to be preferred. This substitution "f knickerbockers or knee-breeches fu trousers is one of the pressing reform? of the dav—the change it so simple and yet ao effectual— J. A. Qotek, in the CiollUer. —The common afljiction experienced in the birth of the t-wo-headed girl has been counter-balanced by the nirth at Brownsville, Nob., of a one-htaded girl with tocr perfect legs and font - perfect arms. Tt<us docs ’.he whirligig of time make all thing* even.— Chicago herald. Conquering a Mule. “ Ben Appleby, of St- Lonis, had a mule,” said the stableman, “which was one of the know ingest cusses you ever saw. I dunno where Ben found him, but, one day he came dr vin’ home with th s rnu.e hit died ter the tail end of his wagon. He was an innoc -nt lookin’ animal, plump an’ fat, an’ looked like lie was goin’ to lie good for •uthin’. Well, the next day after Ben fot ’iin home he tried tor hitch 'ini up, ut he wouldn’t be hitched. He jest everlastin'hr kicked the wagon inter splinters. He kicked one eend outer ther stable, an’ kicked ther stall down, an’ kicked everything in sight. Ben took him out in the com-ticla ore day, an’ hitched ’im to a plow, but be up an’ kicked that plow over inter ther next lot. He was all right tinder saddle, but ther min'd Ben tried ter hitch ‘ini ter anything he jest kicked it outer sight. No matter where lie was, if things didn't suit ’iu„ he ieat let himself out an’ kicked. Nobody but Ben dast go ncar’im. Well, finally he tiisklvcrod that oiorybody was scared of ’im, an’ he got the idee that he was the greatest mule in that section of ther country. 11c had a way of cockin’ one car for rard an’ the other backards, an’ winkin’ one aye when any one came near ,im, as much as to say: 4 Git on to me; I'm Ben Appleby's kickin’ inule, an’ don’t yer forgit it.’ Wiien Ben would be ridin' ’nn there road an’ they’d pass another mule, he’d jist git his cars in position an’ wink an’ grin as much aster say: ‘l’m the only mule in this country. I’m a kicker, I am.’ He seemed to understau’ that be had the dead wood on Ben, an' thet no body could hitch 'ira to no sort of vehi cle. He got chock, rain, jam full of conceit, au’ use ter parade hisself aroun’ the barnyard like ho owned the place. Ben made up his mind as how the mule wouldn’t never be no ’count tell lie was broke to drive in harness. He tried all Sorts ’or ways. He hitched ’im to a mowin’ machine, an’ the result was ho had ter git anew machine. Tho mule kicked it all outer shape. He broke up everything that Ben tried ter hitch ’itn to. Bimeby Ben got mad. He swore he’d take the conceit outer that animal if it tuk his hull farm. Then he begun to study up ther case, till, one day a man came along with one of thi m farm engines what they run thrashin’ uior sheons with. Ben says to ’ini, ‘l’ll give yer live ilollcrs if you’ll let mo hitch my mule ter that mersheon.’ ' (sit out yer mule,’ sez tho man, an’ Ben led ’im outer the stable. '■He can’t pull it,’ sc/, the man. ‘Never mine,’ sez Ben, •he kin try it.’ So he led the mule out in the road, an’ the mule ho kttowed in a minit what was goin’ on. lie cocked it is ears backards an’ forrards, on’ grinned and sez to his self: “ ‘They’m goin’ to hitch me to that thing. 1 Jog-gone ray skin. I’ll kick it inter the next county. I’m Ben Apple by’s kickin’ undo, 1 am. Watch me now an’ see how I do it.’ “Well, Ben an’ the man got ’itn hitched up to the mersheen no’ lie began to kick gin liter boiler head. Ho kicked, an’ he kicked, an’ he kicked, but the mersheen never budged. Ben nn’ the man sat on the fence a wntchin’ the job, an’ the fnnn a laughin’ to kill hisself. Ben looked kinder satisfied, but he never fetched a smile. Bimeby the mule settled dmvu on his four legs, an’ swung his head aroun’ an’ said to hisself: “‘Wat kino of a dog-gone vehicle i4 this, any how? She don’t fetch worth u cent. Maybe somethin’s the matter witli my legs I’ll go for it agin, any how.’ “Alt' lie -et his teetli together an’ began to kick agin’. Welt, sir, ho hammered his heels agin’ tliul boiler head till lie was block In the face, hut she never weakened. Then lie’ll stop an take brcatli an’ sw ear, an’ then he’d kick agin’. Well, sir. lie kep’ that up fur half nn hour, till he was as weak as a cat, uu’ ttien lie stopped an’ flopped botli ears I'orrnrd an' cried like a baby. Beil let 'im slau’ there a little while, an’ then lie onhilched im ini’ took im back to the stable. The next day lie hitehed 'ini up to a buggy, an’ he trotted off without sayin’ a word, an’ to-day lie’s as decent an’ respectable a mule as they is in the county. Ben’s wife drives im to town mos’ every day in a fay ton.— St. Louis licvublican. Rabies in Midsummer. It is a pretty big job to pilot a baby through a summer's campaign. A prominent Cincinnati physician, being interviewed the other day, expressed tlie opinion that a baby "should never bo given milk savo from the breast of its mother, or, if that be impossible, from tlie breast of a foster-mother. Ho stated that so many of tlie dairy cows nowadays are consumptive or other wise diseased that, in the first place, their milk, even if unadulterated, is poisonous. Again, lie said that tlio cow’s milk is jostlod for hours in hot weather before it is delivered to con sumers, and thus it is literally churned. Thus it is eminently unfit for the use of infants. The conduct of mothers who nurse their children from the breast was also referred to. Frequently it is the case that mothers become over heated and wrought up over the wash tub and other household duties, and their milk is then unlit for a child to drink. A baby’* stomaoh is irritable ami teuder. It is overloaded wivu ami it becomes a source of pain, just as a cinder does when it. files info a per son’s eve. Remove uio cinder and re lief folfows. The baby throws up the milk and the pain ceases, unless it lie hot weather, when it goes off through the bowels and sickness result*. So it is with solid food, only in a more pro nounced degree. Therefore solid food should uot lie given ail infant until if is able to masticato its food. Espe cially starch food, such as potatoes, etc., should be avoided. Otic great mis take mothers make is to suckle their children everytime they cry. That is not right. They ought not to give them the breast oftenar than once in two hours at first, and this interval ought to be lengthened to three hours after awhile.' During the night they should not suckle them more frequently thau onoe. The proper thing to do is to give them a drink of water. The little things are oftener thirsty than hungry. The doctor said that ice should lie given the little ones in abundance while they are teething. It relieve* and oool* tho hot, inflamed gums, and the baby does not swallow enough ice-water "to hurt it, because it wastes the greater part of it- The use of flannels on babies all through the summer was animadverted upon se verely. The doctor declared that chil dren should be clad to suit the weather. In very warm weather the infants ought Vo be allowed about one garmet, and that a pretty light oae.—Cittcirmat* £n grirtr. A t oney island horse-Jockey who died the oilier day con esoed m having participated in thirteen “put-up" : a ’o* . where it was arranged beforehand which i horse was to will Ranch Fanning. As the traveler approaches the Rocky Mountains from either side he finds that the words farms and farming have become obsolete among the inhabi tants, and that ranch and ranching, from the Spanish rancho, have taken their place. In the valley.s among the mountains the ranches are necessarily limited in extent, and nearly all the tillable lands aro confined to narrow strips, bordering some rivulet or larger stream coming down from the peaks. These streams are fed by the melting snows in summer; and although the water is generally exceedingly cold, it answers very woll for irrigating the hot, black soils of the valleys, as rains can not be depended upon to supply tho requisite amount of moisture necessary for producing any kind of farm or gar den crop. In some of tlie valleys ex cellent wheat can be grown, but the most common and profitable crops aro oats, millet or hay, potatoes, and nearly all kinds of garden vegetables, with the exception of those requiring a long season and great heat. Everywhere in the mountains and valleys the nights are cool; consequently there are few localities where any except the earliest varieiies of corn succeed, or tomatoes and melons will ripen; but peas, beets, carrots, and all the varieties of cabbages and cauliflowers, grow to a large size, and are of excellent quality. All of the cabbage tribe of plants appear to find a most congenial soil and climate in the valleys of the Rocky Mountains. The extreme fertility of the soil of the valleys and the absence of no*iou3 weeds have a tendency to make the ranchmen indolent and careless of all things pertaining to the cultivation and care of crops. We have known men residing on tho plains to go into some canyon In the spring, plow up tho virgin soil near a brook, plant a few acres of potatoes, fix a ditcii to supply the plants with a little extra moisture, and then return home, never visiting tho spot again until digging time in the fall. If everything goes well, an excellent Crop and a large yield will be secured, but it does not seem to disturb the ranch man’s peace of mind if he fails in this kind of farming three years out of four. The quality of the potatoes raised in these elevated regions is generally ex cellent, and much superior to those raised on tho plains or rich prairie soils at a lower altitude, and they always command a ready sale and good prices in tho mining camps scattered over a region of country several thousand miles in extent. An Eastern farmer would consider the prices obtained by the ranchmen suffi ciently high to be quite remunerative, especially when so little labor is expend ed to produce a crop; but high prices and the great yield do not appear to be a sufficient stimulus to these mountain eers to make them extend their planta tions or exert themselves to give their crops better care. Perhaps there is something in the oiimate which is de pressing to one’s spirits, or nature is too {irodigal in her gifts, but whatever may ie tho cause, it is certain that the West ern ranchmen are about as indolent and easy going a class of men as can be found in America. They are satisfied to live in miserable huts, partly because they can not afford to build bettor, and partly because after a few years their aspirations do not reach above a log house or a dugout and enough coarse food to supply the actual needs of na ture. Strange as it may seem, the larger proportion of these ranchmen aro East ern men, accustomed in their younger days to the comforts and associations of refined society; but for some unaccount able reason the aspirations of their youth only remain as faint glimmerings of ideas long since abandoned. They ap pear to enjoy their crude, half-civilized life, and wc have hoard many of them say that they would not exchange their rude huts and free and easy mode of living for all the luxuries to tie obtained in the older and more thickly settled of the Eastern States. This shows how easy it is for tho human race to return to barbarism. Some of our readers may think that they would do differently if placed under similar circumstances; but we doubt it, for there is something in tho climato and surroundings of tho Western ranchman that prevents his going further or advancing any higher in tho scalo of refinement than the po sition in which we find him. We do not say that lie is an ignoramus, for there are college graduates and good scholars among thorn; but they soon become rusty, probably from their rusty sur roundings.—N. Y. Sun. Tlie Late Jewel Robbery at Rio Janeiro. Tlie riddle of the recent robbery of the jewels of the imperial ladies at Rio Janeiro had a curious solution. Alt er putting into prison three persons on suspicion, and complete failure to dis cover any trace of the jewels, or light on anything definite in regard to the actor or actors in the theft, tho Chief of Police received an anonymous letter de claring tho writer the only author of the theft, and saying that if they went to a certain spot near the house of the pris oner l’niva the jewels would be found in two tins interred in the ground. Tho Chief and two police officers, all dis guised, set out for St. Clirislovam. tak ing the prisoner Pairs out of jail on tho way to show them the spot described in the letter. Tho spot was soon found, and after some time spent iu digging, a largo till w a.* ,tu >■'. a. -u -a icslots were found. Alter the jewels bad been valued judivhdh, the Chief wont to Potropolis and dolivored them to their imperial owners, who had pre viously come to the conclusion that they were completely lost. The value as signed by tho experts was at least #400,- 000. The real thief lias not yet been discovered, but the throe prisoners were nt once discharged on the recovery of the jewels. —The finding of such great quantities of ’‘historic relios” upon the French and Indian battle-grounds of Pennsylvania lias led to an investigation, aud the in vestigation to a discovery that a Spriug tiold, Mass., gnu factory has been ship ping canister by tho keg to those inter est., ng grounds, having them buried, and afterward resurrected fur the delectation —and the money—of seekers of antiqui ties. —-Air. Verplanck Colvin sketches camp life iu the Adirondack* with a graphic and realistic pencil when he writes: “The I‘oais have made a de scent upon my camp during my ab sence. and dtmoli&hed touts and baggage so that I must refit. 1 wish you were here to see how thoroughly a party of bears can destroy things when they set about it"—a wist iu which not every reader will coincide. —Judge William Nye alludes to a per son. who contributed a “Poem on spring’’ to tho Laramie ll< om rang, as an into lectual tumor. This is the best name for it so far. but there are several pro inets uot yet heard from Courier* Journal. RELIGIOUS AND EDUCATIONAL. —Miss Louisa Howard, of Burlington, Vt.. has given $5,000 to the University of Vermont, for the establishment of five scholarships, to be known by her name.— V. Y. Post —The Chinese Sunday-school of the Mount Vernon Church, Boston, has 110 members, and is increasing so rapidly that it is hard to supply teachers. A teacher is required for each pupil.—Bos ton Post. —The woman's suffrage organ in Portland, Ore., gives much credit totlo girls in the public schools of that city for their success in wirhing aii of the four medals offered by Mayor Thomp son to the best readers. —A religious paper in the far West says that since the revised version of the New Testament has taken “hell” out of several passages, and “ fool” out of several others, many people are taking more comfort in reading tho Scriptures than they ever did before. —The New York Times , in a sixteen column article showing the progress of religious denominations in that city be tween 1845 and 1882, shows that while the population has increased 225 per cent., the total Protestant church mem bership increased but 76 per cent., while the Gath die Church membership increased 950 per cent., or train 50,000 to 600,000. —The Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church have appro priated for the year 1882, and to May 1 of 1883, the sum of .$640,000. Since the year Mo3.the Board has received in gifts and legacies $10,496,330, and the en tire sum has been used in missionary work. Thirty new missionaries are being sent out by the Board this year. —Christian Union. —The Methodist ministers of Provi dence, R. 1., recently discussed the sub ject of ordaining women. The disci pline of the church requires as qualifi cations for ordination “gifts, grace and usefulness,” and it was urged that the unwritten law required the candidate shonhl be of the masculine gender. Dr. Talbot, the prosiding elder, said lie did not object so much to their preaching, but there were other things involved which they could not do; and one of these was to baptize by immersion. “ Dickens’ Dutchman.” Old Charlie Langheimer, “Dickens’ Dutchman,” who on Wednesday last, after four weeks’ freedom, was sent back to the Eastern Penitentiary to complete Ids eightieth year on earth and his forty-third year in prison, was heartily glad to return to his old quar ters after his experience with the “phil anthropist” who attempted to reform hint after his last discharge. Old Lang heimer says that soon after liis release, in June, he received a letter, “so nice dot 1 could not read him,” from a doc tor residing at Spring Mills, a small vil lage in Center County. He took tlie letter to his son-in-law and found that the writer desired to reform him. The old man was invited to come on to Cen ter County; was told that the best of care would lie taken of him. and that his only work would be to attend to the flower-garden and to employ the artistic taste which he had exhibited in decorat ing his cell in improving the grounds of hi* patron. . The benevolent gentleman had prudently neg'ected to send any money or* ticket to old Langheimer, but kindly referred him to George W. Childs for the wherewithal to pay his passage. The. venerable jail-bird, ac cording to his "own story, went to Mr. Childs and showed him the letter. The benevolent proprietor of the Ledger , al though ho knew nothing of the philan thropist beyond the bare fact of his ex istence, kindly supplied Langheimer with a railway ticket, and, after giving him a liberal allowance of money and good advice, * sent him on liis way re joicing. Langheimer reached his destination in the evening ami was welcomed with open arms by his patron. Rut the morn ing dispelled tho old man’s virions of pastoral tranquility and floral bliss. Not a flower was discernable about the place, but the philanthropist smiled blandly and benevolently as he intro duced “Dickens’ Dutchman” to a large wheelbarrow, a spado and an old a'x, and informed him that he could employ his artistic taste in cutting sod from along tho railroad track, hauling it to the top of the. high lawn, a distance of several hundred feet, aiul laying it there. Langheimer meekly followed his instruc tions, but tlie barrow was heavy, the sun was hot, the ax-handle was rough, and the memory of liis old cool, cozy quarters in the Eastern Penitentiary came regretfully back to the veteran prisoner. For two weeks, however, lie remained at h:s work upon the lawn. More and more strongly he felt that this kind of reforir was not congenial, but tho dread of anew misfortune was upon him. Ho heatd that the philanthropist was sodding liis lawn in the expectation of summer boarders, and shrewdly guessed that he himself might bo de signed as a benevolent side-show to at tract literary rustieators. This was more than the old man could bear, and ho begged to be allowed to return to liis old homo. As blistered hands, unaccustomed fa tigue and exposure, and a growing dis inclination to work were fast making him a white elephant upon the hands of the philanthropist, the latter was willing t*. vit'.M him up, and him a, ***•— ticket anu *3 as a godspeed. Thus ac coutered, Langheimer at once started for Philadelphia. Humbled and satiated of philanthropy, he remained for one week without stirring from the house of his son-in-law. On a fine, sunshiny day ho strolled otu for the first time. Again the siren spell of an open door and an unguarded mjney-till allured him, and again he fel. This is old Lingheim ar’s story of Hs experience with his ben efactor, and he told it to an old friend ae joyously surveyed the narrow limits of his cozy ctA, and said: “ I guess d.'tt di*h is de best blase lor me after alls. ‘Mladelphi i Times. A Rose Ihalge. To hide fn#n view an unsightly wall, or shield frefi cold w inds flower be Is cut iu the ttrf. nothing can be bettor than a hedgoof rose bushes. O tain a number of varieties of roses, of nil shades, front white to crimson, with a sprinkling if yellow here and there. Plant the<e jpromls'uouely in a deep, wide trenchfftlied with moist and rich soil. For tjis there can he nothing bet ter than tndd taken from an ol I "e’tip yard near a farmer'.- dooi. and mixed "with equal parts of the soilthrown from the :ivnib- Rose* need planting in moist ant rich earth, aniif mulched e cb sprng with a little f the s aie rich me !, "'ll grow rap Ty. and thu holge viß b* * bnc of he.uti each suc —A negro of Camden County, N. C., stooped to ki.-s his baby that lay sleeping in its cradle, when a Jightning stroke killed them both. Romantic Marriage. The following announcement recently | appeared in a morning paper: W ATKI N'B—l 'OWN E R—O J the 17tU Inst.. bV the Hi v. Suui'ii'l Shannon, Millard I*. Wu' sins and Mary C-uiiorlao l owlier, both of J.a.u moicCity, Md. There is qni'o an interesting story j connected with this announcement which is furnishing food for gossip among the fashionable residents of Northwest Bal timore, and which proves conclusively that, the lot of a policeman, although hard at times, can be happy as that of any other man. Tho happy llonidiot in the present instance is a well-known and popular officer of the Northwestern District, whose repivation for steadiness and close attention to duty is second to that of no other officer on the force. About one year ago lie ivas appointed to the position lie now occupies, and was detailed to w >rk a beat on Pennsyl vania avenue. Within a few doors of the point a 4 which his beat ended, and where he genera'iy met the Sergeant, lived Miss Katie Fowner, the daughter of a wealthy liquor dealer. Miss Katie, as she was known, although verv young in years, had already several admirers, and not a few would have gladly taken her for better or wor.-e. Officer Wat- kins passed the house every evening with his squad to go on duty, _nd, be coming attracted by the fresh and youth ful countenance, ob : ained an introduc tion and cultivated the acquaintance when off duty. From the first Miss Katie seemed to like the officer’s com pany, and it was not long before a mutual attachment sprang up between them, which lias since ripened iipo deep and ardent love. All this time, though matters seemed to bo progressing smoothly enough, the parents of the young lady objeeled to the visits of the officer, and their course of true love was destined not to run as smooth as they would have liked. The couple had no objection to waiting for a reasonable time, but matters were brought to a crisis when it became known that the parents were making arrangements to go West and take her with them. Finding it impossible to effect their purpose in this way, they determined oil a coup d’etat, which was well planned and successfully carried outlast Sunday evening. Taking advantage of a time when her guardians were otherwise en gaged, the young lady gathered to gether some clothing, of which she made a compact bundle, with the inten tion of taking it with her, but fearing that suspicion might be aroused, she abandoned this idea and quietly left her parental residence without it. It was nearly dark now, and her absence was not immediately discovered. At the next corner she was joined by her lover and his best man, Officer llartzell, and the trio made all baste to the parsonage of the Emery M. E. Church. As soon as they arrived here the key was turned in the door for fear the parents might surmise their whereabouts and en deavor to prevent the marriage. Noth ing, however, intervened, and within a few moments thereafter the Rev. Sam uel Shannon pronounced the happy couple man and wife. In the meantime the yfoung lady was misled, and thinking that she had been taken to her lover’s home, her father went to his house, but they had no knowledge of the couple’s whereabouts. On his wav back, however, he met the newly-wedded p.:ir, who had just come from"the parsonage. Unaware that his jurisdiction h:id ceased,,the father en deavored to get his daughter to go home with him, but to this her husband strenuously objee ed, claiming liis right as a hu-biind to lake care of his wise. To this the father would not listen, and a scene was imminent, when the hus band, exciching his prerogative as an officer, arrested Mr. Towner, and took him to the Northwestern Station. He charged him with disturbing the public peace by interfering with himself and wife, but said that be did not desire to press the charge if left to go his way in peace. Capi. Earhart decided then to dismiss the case, but requested Mr. [•'owner to remain there for a few min utes until the others had departed. This he accordingly did, and the newly married pair went on their way rej ic ing, anil tier father returned homo. Thus the matter now stands. It is thought, however, that Mrs. Watkins’ parents will finally relent, and that all will be forgiven. — Baltimore special to Si. Louis Globe-Democrat. Pearl Fishing in (he Indian Ocean. When cholera and its attendant quar antine forced us to abandon the trip to Bagdad, we lost a chance of seeing the pearl fisheries of the Persian Gulf. Here again in Ceylon we were fated to miss the same coveted sight. The loca tion of tho pearl banks is the Bay of Condatchy, less than a hundred and fifty miles north of Colombo. Despite the magnitude of this interest, which is a State monopoly, no town of any ex tent marks tho favored vicinity, and tho surrounding landscape is parched, flat, and inhospitable. Yet when it is announced, after an official inspection, that fishing will be permitted during certain months,usually in the spring, tlie lifeless place becomes ari animation. A great; fleet of boats gather from the neighboring coasts, and a multitude of revives come from the interior. U a given signal, that, all may fare equally well, tile exciting work begin.*. Hundreds of divers, ready with their sinking stones, roues and baskets, in stantljr plunge into the sc. |, t U..- nient they reappear, bream ressfrom the long imm r-ion. with their biskets full of the peettffar mollusks which bear the preeiou* gem*. Then another -it de scend into the and, pi hs, each craft having several, and so on tilt the boats arc laden. The divers are sometimes at tacked by sharks and obliged to use their knives in •!■ feu-e. When the oysters are landed a di vi-ion is made. 1 lie butt men receive either a third or a fourth ns their share (f am in doubt which), while tho Gov ernment generously takes tho remain der. Those belonging to the colony are at once disposed of at auction, in lots of a thousand. The result of these sales is, of course, an assured revenue. But such is not the position of the buyer. His purchase is distinctly a speculation. There is qi certainty that it will yield in pearls enough to exceed the amouut of hi*outlay. He could bid for unclaimed ex pee - packages with equal hope of profit. A hundred oysters may not contain a solitary pearl, and yet two or three might be found in oue shell. ■ The mollusks aro allowed to pntrify in the burning suu, and are then care fully washed, to extract the dainty jew els from the foul dross. During this odorous process the owner must be over vigiiant, or his workmes will relieve him of the treasures. In truth, pearl fishing, liko ni ning for diamonds and gold, is for all concerned a precari ous occupation.— Singapore Cor. PAila. dclphia Bu'ltlin. —Poorly-ventilated stables are hot beds of disease. Onr Waning Forests. In all the numerous articles that have fallen under our notice anout the de- i struetion of our forests, we have never seen any doubts expressed about the 1 facts in the case, or any thing hopeful upon the other side of the question. The impression left upon the mind of ; the reader is, that every acre of wood , land cut off is never renewed without artificial means, and that the country is doomed to barrenness in a few genera | tions at the longest, by reason of the ; disappearance of our forests. It takes \ so many millions of acres for fuel, still : more for lumber, millions for railroad ■ ties, agricultural tools and machines, lasts, shoe pegs, ma'ches, boxes for ! packing, etc., every year, and at this • rate the country is soon to be denuded of its forests, the streams dried up, and our ! agriculture and manufactures depending : upon water-power are coming to ruin in a very short time. This is the picture as it is pre-ented to us by the city editor, ! as he looks at things from his sanctum. It is about time this nonsense was ; exploded, and the facts in the case ; stated as they appear to us wood 1 choppers and clod-hoppers in tho I country. It is undoubtedly true tha j there has been a great decrease of 1 forests in the old seaboard States, since the first settlement of the country, for that has been a necessity, without which there could be no agriculture, and not much increase of population. It took at least a hundred years in these States to remove so much of the forest as was an obstruction to agriculture. Not more than one-fifth of tho area of a country reed be left in wood, to secure its high- est productiveness in farm crops. This point luis not yet been reached in some parts of the seaboard States, yet in other parts it has been somewhat passed, and there is a deficiency of wood for fuel and timber. Tho alarmists over look the most important fact that very much of the timber land that is cleared in the older States is very soon renewed by natural agencies. There is a regular system of growtn and clearing, and timber and fuel are as much reliable money crops as corn and potatoes. On fair, average soil, a forest will renew itself once in twenty-five years. It would probably pay better to stand thirty or forty years, but it is available, and can be turned into ready money every twenty-fifth year. A farmer with twenty-live acres of forest can clear an acre every year with no diminuton of woodland. In the rural districts of Connecticut, with which we have been familiar for the last fifty years, there has been no waning of forests. Ship-timber, neat seaports, has grown, scarce and high, but the price of wood for fuel is no higher, and in some markets is even cheaper than it was fifty years ago. Tho census shows .hat, in the exclusively agricultural towns, there has been no increase of population, and in some of them a decrease (luring the last forty or fifty years, so that there is no more de mand for fuel aud timber to-day than there was in the days of our grand fathers. Wood for fuel, except in tha shape of kindlings and charcoal, has gone out of use in our cities and vil lages on the seaboard and along the line of our railroads. Farmers, not a few, within four or five miles of these vil lages, are beginning to use coal, and the base-burner, once in the parlor or sitting-room, soon drives out the wood fires and stoves from the rest of the house. Coal is found to be far cheaper and a cleaner and more convenient fuel than wood, even for those who own wood lots. Kerosene is also becoming avail ab'e for heating, and we see no prospect in the future that wood for fuel will eve: be any’ more in demand than it is to day. It is doubtful if it ever will be dearer for lumber. Iron is taking its jdace irr ships, bridges, machines, houses and public buildings, and the de mand for iron, stone, brick, as the most desirable materials for building is likely to increase as tho country increases in wealth. In some of these rural district! there is more danger of a relapse into wilderness and barbarism than of ex terminating our forests for the ad vance of high farming and civilization. In seventy-live of our farming towns there was a decrease of 12,000 in popu lation during the last decade, which means an increase of woodland. In a ride of an hour, yesterday, in one of the towns bordering on tho Connecticut River, we passed six old chimney stacks and cellars, the sites of deserted" homos, the road for much of the way bordered by forests. Even in the Nutmeg State, where we use some superfluous wood, it is difficult to feel the alarm about wan. ing forests.—Cor. American Agricul turist. Say What You Mean. *1 your friends know that yon love them. Do not keep the alabaster boxes of your love ami tenderness sealed up : untii pour friends are dead. Fill their lives with sweetness. Speak approving cheering words while their hearts can be thrilled by them. The tilings you mean to say when they are goue say before they go. The flowers you mean to send for the coffins send to brighten and sweeteu their homes before they leave them. If my friends have alabaster boxes laid away, full of perfumes of sym pathy and affection, which they intend to break over my dead body, I would rather they would bring them out iu my we**.' hours ami open them, that I Uiav be refreshed and cheered l>y them while x u..,i it..,,,. i would rather have a bare coffin without a flower, and a funeral without an eulogy, than a life without the sweetness of love and sympathy. Let us learn to anoint our friends be forehand for their burial. Post-mortem kindness do not cheer the burdened. Flowers on the coffin cast no fragrance backward over the weary days or otu lives.— Ex. T ie Sunday question has become sontewa.it entangled at New Haven. A Hebrew proprietor of a cigar .tore ; . -e, ..i.-; store on Saturday, which is . > and claims that he ha* a f .° keep it open on Sunday. His r m t conceded. Thereupon comes be:- Hebrew, who keeps a saloon, i ■a the groat principle of religion* ! ' j' 1 * tb ” r ‘g ht to ply hi* | , >J '' • But a* the law ro-’j '! ' : '■ ’ !le *'• sen mg of saloons on Sun- I isynforrod in Connecticut, his de n >d t deni and, and he will be obliged !“ c ’. ntest the constitutionality of 'the b’ -v m the courts, or sell liquors on 1 p 'tp'isfi or keep closed shop two day* in tue week. —Kew Haven Register. —A New York merchant has been rcmpeilt-d to suspend business through tl.o speculative doings of his book-keep er. in this connection it should be re marked that book-keepers ought not tc be too hard on the poor men who are Dying to do business and pay them sal urics. The book keeper, of course, is Mi man to do business with; but he grit to allow his employer to lire.— 1 fYt.ir Haven Register, Fashion Items. Watered Irish poplins are achieving great success. 9 White dresses are worn evervwh.B in town and country. ’ '■ Huge cabbage roses are worn ij the bonnet, at. the top of. the pa JJ and as corsage tlowers. ■ Broad ribbon sashes aro worn b ,1 million, from the.child of one vearl the matron of sixty. t<! l’ale blue or pale pink muslin d re .l dispute the majority with spriweiDl polka-dotted patterns. “ Lunch,-cloth, wherewith to Jna l bright and picturesque a lawn party ■ in the new elegant shade of eardinl with gold brocaded borderings and del lringe of the same ve low hue. | A bonnet made wholly of o-oosebl ries, lately exhb.ted, met with 1 success, as did also one of plum-colon tdicnifio, adorned with a bunch I apricots. In the way of frui' gnrnitj elderberries, in superb coloring, or r,J green grapes, surrounded wdh 8 ;j j powdered leaves, meet with thegr ea! l favor Small checked silks are made up I many fanciful styles, and alwavs I combination with other fabrics, pi J merveilleux being the usual choice. 1 skirt of royal blue and white check! silic is covered with wide flounces, each headed with a narrJ plaiting of royal blue surah. The cJ sage and Watteau overskirt are of t| plain blue material, with cuffs, pockJ and pelerine of the checked silk. White or black dresses are frequent! adorned with multi-colored ribboj hoops and long streamers, or jabots 1 mixtures of colors—olive,gray and pil or pale blue cardinal and terra-cotta, f] instance, being conjoined. Primro.4 bronze brown and crimson form anothj fashionable combination, but the stigH est error in tint destroys all the o 1 effect. Well blended, this simple trin ming sufficiently brightens the sombrd toilet. Ribbon of every shade, design aifl width forms an important part in tH costumesof the day. Theold-fashionfl stiff’ bow is seldom seen, the modern aH rangenients being designated as cal cade3, Hats, plaques, chotix orpumponM and a dressy dress, or even a sim| morning toilet, now looks incomple| and expressionless until some ador| ment of ribbon has been added. L T p| some of the most fashionable costum| are used ribbons by the dozen yar| upon the skirt alone; and corsages anfl wraps arc frequently covered with ioofl of ribbon, mingled with waves of lac| A novel skirt and stylish costume hfl the short walking-skirt of black groß grain silk, with Louis XIV. tunic of tkfl same trimmed with richly-worked aB plique bands of cut jet. Over this I French ensaque of black and whiß striped silk, fitting the figure very peifl fectly, and fastened down the front vvitH loops of silk braid and jet-beaded fro J The parasol of bla k is adorned with jel and lined with white silk; black silk.iiJ sey glove, drawn on over the close coal! sleeves of the casa pie, and a bonnet o| black lace, wrought with jet heads, anl trimmed with a semi-wreath of whitl roses, complete ti.e costume. Cnsaquins, polonaises, redingotesau corsages a paniers will all be in favo this anti the coming autumn season Drawn bodi es are also much worn ivi I diaphanous fabrics; the number of shin on these, however, is greatly dimn ishod. The corsages “ mademoiselle,’ with deep points, are quite flic leadin' Style, for very rich materials, such ai brocade, moire, lampas and the like The Jeanne d’Arc corsage is a novelty being oi oned at one side, :ind lace 1 iq with silk or silver cords. This and till corslets laced under the arms will b< much worn (hiring the summer season accompanied by a guimpe and sleeve of Oriental gauze, or a chemisette Russ of white silk India muslin, embroiderei in the colors of the dross. Adjustable trains have been found cn tirely too convenient for the existenci of any probability of tlieif going onto fashion, as they are equally suitable to all seasons. The vogue of scarfs, tab liers and plastrons detachable from the skirt, and fastened to it when desired hy means of patent hooks or invisible but tons, is nearly as great, as by this mean the toiiet may bo varied almost indefi nitely. A rich dress may be made in the height of simplicity, yet in a few moments the addition of a long, ad justable court train in the back and down the front, a lablier covered with lace, glistening with passementerie ot wrought with elaborate embroideries, may transform this unpretending dress into a toilette elegante. Plastrons o pattern materials, or of satin, gauged or plaited, arc still very fashionable, while those of siik or satin, in light shades covered with lace or hand-paint ed, are exceedingly elegant. —A. L Evening Dost. Ancient Mexican Worship. Of the whole system of Mexican wor ship by far the most prominent feature was its astounding ferocity. It was drenched in every part with liuiuaß blood. Its prie-ts were tin army oi sturdy butchers, whose highest inac tion was to cleave the victim’s breast with the sacrificial hatchet and pluck out his palpitating heart; its devotees were ennui: uls wiio devoured the vic tim's llesh in sacramental feast, and, Hie die priests of Huai, cut them -elves with knives and lancets. Each month had its festivals o' -daughter, and in the Capital all nr -so.* no human victims arc saal to have Ixcn annually o eretL from slaves and criminals, fr. m pris* oners captured in wars undertaken lor the purpose, from troop# of children purcha ed tor the sacrifice, was the ghastly death-contingent continually re cruited. Some v. -re fatted in the sacred cages, others loaded with honors and sated with -casual delights to make them the more acceptable offering-; sente per ished on the altar by the faTal stroke of the priest, others in (he mockery of gladiatorial combat; some were flayed alive, others tmng headlong into mount a n whirlpools and lakes. Never was superstition so -icken.n; with intolera ble horrors. —Ww ;wootl's Magazine, —A Brooklyn saloon-keeper was ar j rested a few days ago for soiling brer ; without license to do so. In his exam ination he swore that the stuff was “ sebeank ” beer, and not intoxicating; j that “ scheank ” beer was merely new i beer, which contained only two per cent, of alcohol; that bei-r must be at lea-t three months old to be rightly ; termed “lager,” and that very little •lager was so'cl in the summer. The jus tice dismissed the saioon-ke per upon that testimony, and thereby uncon sciously demonstrated his dense igno rance of beverages. Bnt then there is such a tiling as being too well informed upon such matters.—AT. Y. Hero and. —During a late thunder-storm near Centerville, Md., three nudes out of a team of six were killed by lightning. The male' were attached to a timber wagon, geared tandem, and the light ning struck the leader, missed the next, struck the third, missed the fourth anc fifth, and struck the breech mule, kilt ing three.