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THE ADVERTISER.
YOU. V. NO. 28.
turn't Stand In the Way,
“The world is too crowded,"
The grumbler declares,
'T don't like ita labor,
I don't like ita cares."
If you care not to work, sir,
And much rather play,
Why, do as you please.
Rut don’t stand in the way.
The sowers are coming
To put in the seed,
Tula army is sca-cely
Enough for our need;
Ton can lend us a hand
For an hour, or a day,
Or stand like a post,
But don’t stand in the way
Life's giunmrr and autumn
They glide on apace.
And then the glad reapers
Will fall into place.
But if you have not labored,
You can't expect pay;
~ ' AmTihe haifcjst is theirs!
Ho don’t stand I?, their way.
«N,
Keep moving, keep moving, ~
There’s good work for all;
Put a hand to the plough,
Or go back to the wall.
The young men are coming,
\nd old men grown gray.
The world needs them all;
Friend, don't stand in the way.
— The Danner.
THE NEW MIRROR.
|1V KATK M. I’l.RAHT.
“Pay yes, lore!”
1 < But, my dear girl—”
“Now, Charley, don’t bo cross!”
lie was only a few months married.
He was head over cars in love with hi*
wife. And ju*t now, when ho felt the
touch of tho soft, slim fingers on his
hair, and looke i up into the pretty,
petulant, coaxing face al*»vc, he found
it hard to refute any*rcqu:st of hers, no
matter how unreasonable.
“I am not tho lenst bit cross, dar¬
ling,” he anid, leaning balk in his
chair, and pulling both her nrms down
around his neck; “but don’t you think
two hundred dollars is rather high for
something wo do not roally neud?’’
“Oh, but wo do, Charley I” slho in¬
sisted, eagerly. “A person must have
a cheval-glass nowadays. And this is
a beauty. Beveled French plate, of
course, and all framed in mahogany,
the reel rose mahogany, you know, and
finished with polished brass. Why,
Charley, it is a bnrgain at two huidred
dollar#! ’
He smiled.
The furnishing of their pretty home
had already cost a god deal. It was a
hai • three-story bouse, on one of
Lfashiouable residence blocks
P^Mra. purred (j
on the /»uug voice, “not as
handsome as this, though I am sure it
cost more.”
She paused, waiting for the effect of
that last shot. In her schemin' con
sciousness "he was well aware no more
effective argument could be presen'el.
For had ahe not refused Cyrus Cmnon
to marry Charley Merton/
He rose, with a lenient laugh, from
the richly-appoiu c 1 breakfast table.
“1 suppose you must have your way,
you little despot! • *
“Oh, you darling!” she cried, rapt
urously.
Anri she promptly paid him for hi*
permission by g vmg hi in half a dram
delighted kiss?* then and there.
He went into the hall for his over¬
coat and came back friezcenv..*l$p 3 l,
and hat in hand.
“I’m pretty pasitivo, E 1 »a,” he said,
•'that not a looking-glass in Chicago
will have as sweet a face to teflect as
wilfyouis. It ccttaiuly ought to feel
flattered. All tha others would be
jealou* if they knew.”
He was too lately married to have
ceased the hon ymoon habx of making
pretty speeches.
Mrs. Merton blushed in the prettiest
manner imaginable. “You deserve an¬
other kiss for that!” she declared. She
stood on tiptoe to give it to him. Then
he folded up the morning paper, thrust
it in his pocket, put on his hat, and
went out to catch his car. He was glad
he had not refused to gra*ify hi* wife’s
request. Indeed, the genial glow which
follows a gmerous act kept him all day
long more cordial with himself and the
rest of the world.
Hardly had Charley Merton left home
when hi* victorious bride ru*hed up
stairs to dresa, previous to making her
coveted purchase. When she descend¬
ed to her coupe, quite a vision of fash¬
ion and loveliness in her leaf-brown
plush and costly furs, she was a very
proud woman indeed—proud o# her
home, her husband, and the beautiful
mirror she was going to bur. And
when tho bad ordered it sent to her
residence, she thought with satisfaction
of the pleasure she would take in show
ing her acquisition to Mrs. Cyrus Can¬
non.
At ahe left a restaurant, after a dainty
lunch, whom should she meet but
Charley’s particular friend, David
Roseo. At least he had been the par¬
ticular friend of Gbarley’e bachelor
day*. Now youmx Mrs. Merton was
very wise in her way. She had hear d
and read that a bride usually estranges
the friends of her husband, and thus
indirectly arouses the resentment of
the latter. To this rule she had re¬
solved to prove herself an agreeable ex.
ception. So she gave Mr. Roseo her
hand and a gracious smile, and invited
him up to dinner the following even
ing.
Ho had feared that his comradeship
with Charley Merton must end with the
marriage of the latter. S> it was with
repressed surprise and expressed grati -
tude that he accepted the invitation.
“It’s a pity,” she said, with a com¬
passionate sigh, as she was whirled
along to the matinee, “that poor Mr.
Roaeo hasn’t a nice wife and home liko
Charley!” Which reference evidenced
the fact that Mrs. Merton possessed a
proper appreciation of her charming
self.
The curtain bad just risen, when a
lady entered the theatre, and was ush¬
ered to the seat adjoining that 0 * Mrs.
Merton.
“Why, Edna!”
»» My dear Millie!”
Though several years older than Edna,
Millie Joyce had been her favorite
friend. But it was a long time since
they had met. A few weeks before
E Ina’s wedding Millie Joyce had re¬
ceived a summons to the bediide of a
sick brother in Dakota, and had only
lately returned. So very pleasant, in¬
deed, both ladies found the meeting.
“I was just speaking to an old friend
of Charley’s,” said Mrs. Merton be¬
tween the acts, "I’m not sure that
you know him. His name is Roseo.”
Millie’s rather faded face flushed
brightly.
“David Roseo?”
“Yes.”
“I met him at Waukeshaw five years
ago,” she said, a trifle nervously, Mrs.
Merton imagined.
“A casual acquaintance?’ 1
“Well, no! 1 Tuen in a burst of con¬
fidence: “We were engaged for three
months.”
“You were?’ 1 interestedly, “What
broke it off/’ 1
“Oh, he grew jealous, and—there’s
the curtain ! 1
Very little indeed did Mrs. Merton
hear of the last act—diplomatically bu3y
was that bright brain of hers.
“Can’t you? 1 she asked Millie, as to¬
gether they passed out of the theatre,
“come over to dinner tomorrow even
ing?’ see! Y
“Tomorrow? Let me
come.” ome she
lound her precious mirror there before
her. She was still admiring it when
Chnrey reached home. She called to
him over the banisters to come up and
see her treasure.
“Isn’t it lovely, Charley?”
“Lovely ! ’ he assented.
He was gravely regarding the enthu¬
siastic face in the glass.
“But i mean the mirror.”
“I don’t!” staunchly and adoringly.
Ho put his arm; around her, and
they went down to dinner together.
When they were alous in their par
br, which, by tho way, posse*sad the
lefres'niugly bright, if un;c thetic, look
imparted by brand-now furniture and
draperies, ahe broached her little plot.
“1 met Mr. Roseo to-iay,” she said.
“You didZ”
“Yea; and I asked him to come up to
dinner to-morrow.”
4 * That was nice of you, love.”
“And at the matinee I met Millie
Joyce, and I askei her to conn, a so. ’’
“But, darling—”
“Well?”
“They were engaged, once.”
She nodded.
*•1 kaow it. That was why I asked
her.”
“But the embarrassment! Neither
will—"
“Oh, you stupid boyi’’ she laug hed
“wait and see!”
The following evening, when Mr.
Merton came home, he found his wife’s
friend seated by the log lire, which it
was fashionable that winter to affect.
She looked uncommonly well in her
artistic gown of absinthe silk, cut to
show the full and white throat which
was her chief beauty.
He had just spoken a courteous wel¬
come, when the door-bell rang. Almost
immediately after Mr. Roseo was
usherei in.
He was a tall, soldierly, welh
preserved man, gray-haired and hand¬
some. He started at sight of the figure
by the fireside. Then he went forward.
Charley met him and said:
“Awfully glad to see you. Dave.
Mis* Joyce I believe you know.”
With quickened heart-throbs Dave
Roseo faced the music, He was tre'
mendously glad to meet Millie Joyce
again.
Dinner was announced. To banish
the restraint each dreaded, the COB
venation was kept up with persiatent
gayety. S i Idenly occurred a startling
interruption:.
Fort gaines. ga.. Wednesday, February h, 1890.
Bang!
Fiercely, sharply outrang the report
of a revolver. All sprang to their feet.
Blankly, with blanched faces, they
looked around. Charley Merton start¬
ed for the door.
“Oh, don’t!' 1 wildly entreated his
wife. Is You will be killed, dcarl
Don’t go.”
At that very moment a second shol
was heard.
Merton dashed out and up the stairs,
his wife following' him; and clown
dropped Millie Joyce in a dead faint
When she revivc.1, she found herself
seated in the host’s chair, an l David
Roseo beoding solicitously over her.
He was gently bathing her forehead
with water from the carafe.
“Are you better, Millie? ’
• Yes, thank you, David;’’ her color
ccming back with a rush.
“1 was all wrong a few years ago,
Millie.”
*'I was too hasty, David.”
“But I’ve loved you ever aince, Mil
lie.”
“And I’ve refused two offers for your
sake, Daviu.”
« • You—angel!' 1
When they finally decided to go up¬
stair* and discover the came of the
commotion, they found Mr. and Mrs.
Merton ruefully regarding the ruins oi
their mirror, which was fractured from
side to side.
“An attempted burglary,” explained
Merton, indicating a half-open satchel
near the window, “The fellow had
got his bag filled with jewelry, silver,
toilet article*, and whatever he could
pick up, when he observed his reflection
in the mirror, and thinking, probably,
that ho was detected, fired at his sup¬
posed enemy the shots we heard.”
“See!' 1 cried Elna, half hysteri¬
cally, “here are tho marks of his feet
on the window-ledge. He must have
got out that way—3lid down the porch
pillar and escape i.^My poor, dear,
lovely cheval-glass 1"^^
“Well, 1 ’ cried Merton, with a laugh,
“let us be glad ho did not get away
with his plunder! 1
Late they rat discussing the affair,
and when they finally broke up it was
David Roseo who saw Miss Joyce
home.
“Charley,” ecstatically confided
young Mrs. Merton to her husband, tho
following night, “Millie has been here,
and she and David R >sco are going to
be married! And it's all on account of
XI l uv it the
burgltr wouldn’t have shot at it. And
if he ha in t shot at it we wouldn't have
rua up.stairs. And if we hadn’t run
up-stairs they wouldn’t have had an
opportunity to make up.’’
Charley laughed out in hearty amuse
ment.
•'I really believe I was inspired to
buy it,” avowed Elnn, solemnly.
“Yes, darling,” meekly assented
Caarle,-.
But he groaned, remembering the
check ho had drawn iu favor of Tobey.
I • Besides,” she cried, convincingly,
“if the mirror had not been there you’d
have been killed, for that awful man
was trying to shoot you. M
To this remarkable argument Charley
returned the only reply a woman’s logic
should ever receive—a kiss. — The
Ledger.
The Acme of Valor.
The presentation of an American flag
to the grammar school* of Bangor re¬
minds me of a similar occurrence which
took place in a Maine village in the
summer of 1863. A company of vol¬
unteers, being about to depart for the
state capital, was drawn up on the
green to receive a flag that had been
made by the patriotic members of the
local sewing circle. The village pastor
made a sensible presentation speech,
and the banner was received by the cap¬
tain of the company, who handed it to
the color-be rer, a witty Irishman.
Then, facing the worthy pastor and his
fair flock, the embarrasae i captain pro¬
ceeded to acknowledge the gift as fol¬
lows:
* Reverened sir and ladies: This
beautiful flag which I see before
me—
“It’s behind yez, captain,” inter¬
rupted the color-bearer.
“Which I see behind me,” amended
the blushing officer, “stands for some¬
thing more than theemblemof a power¬
ful nation. I; is beauty’s tribute to
valor, and as such it is doubly dear to
the gallant hearts around me. In
thanking you for your gift, hidies, we
pledge ourselves faithfully to defend it.
At the close of the campaign, those of
us who are tpared, will bring this fiag
back to you, unless it is blown to
atoms by shot from the enemy, in which
event we’ll—wc’il—”
"WeM bring thirn br.ee the pole I u
shouted the enthusiastic Irishman, to
tfit delight of the crowd and the relief
of the su|*erior officer.— Le (Afe.)
JutrteU.
,
A FROG FARM.
Raising a «Big Family of Croak¬
ers for Western Epicures.
The Frogs Kept in Three Larue
Ponds and Fed Daily.
The subject of frog culture is attract¬
ing considerable attention ot late years
and a good many frog farms have been
established at different places through¬
out the United States and the Cm a das;
but failure lias been the rule rather than
the exception, and insny a sanguine
proprietor of costly ponds and pastures
has dropped a snug little fortune in his
attempt to imitate our French friends
across the Atlantic who find in the busi¬
ness of frog-raising something of pleas¬
ure and no little profit. It is, therefore,
noteworthy that Messrs. George E.
Stevens and Charles J. Swan of
the Homcdalo stock at
St Joseph, Mich., have succeeded in
this industry to a degree highly satis¬
factory to themselves and patrons, al¬
though their knowledge of frog-raising
has cost them many hard-earned dollar 1
and several years of faithful study and
close observation.
Mr. Stevens takes great pride in his
pit industry and never tires of showing
visitors about the ponds aud explaining
the hab\ts and characteristics of his
big family of croakers. Mr. Stev»» a
owns several acres of land
the city of St. JosepF on the 80Uth *
Through the farm runs'\^ ar £ e rav failing * ne t
at the head of which are
springs of pure water. At 4 HJ 10 dis
tance below the springs are located t ^ le
frog ponds—three in number. Water
is supplied to the ponds tnrough a pipe
from a large, deep lake formed by a
dam placed across tho ravine near the
springs. The largest, of the ponds is
well filled with lily-pads, Canada bog
moss and other varieties of water plants
said to be essential to the life of the
frog. The smaller ponds are fringed
with these plants, while the centres are
kept comparatively clear. Mr. Stevens
estimates that there are now no less
than 200,000 tadpoles, pollywogs and
small frogs in the three ponds, and his
statement is undoubtedly correct, as
the bottoms of the ponds are literally
covered with these peculiar-look ing
little fellows. These will be ready for
the market early next summer and will
bring anywhere from $1.25 to $2 a
dozen. Most of them will be shipped
10 ^ujeago anu will find tneir way intq
the fashionable hotels and restaurauts.
Frogs for breeding purposes, which are
raised on this farm in great numbers,
bring $5 a dtzio.
There are in the ponds about 600
full-grown frogs kept for breeders, and
these are ted by hand at regular inter¬
vals to prevent them from devouring
the smaller frog3. Everyday a certain
number of them are fouad out of the
water waiting for their meaf. They
are fed on beef liver by means of a
long pole with a short string attached.
On the end of the string a piece of liver
is faitencd, which is dangled before
the eye3 of a hungry froggy, who se¬
cures it by jumping. It is said that
one feeding satisfies a frog for about
two weeks. They are vary fond of
birds, and often succeed in capturing a
sparrow that may chance to alight on
the ground near where a big frog hap¬
pens to be sitting.
The male frogs are savage fighters,
and when two of them meet there is
sure to be a conflict. There are several
frogs in these ponds that are badly
crippled by fighting. One has lost a
fore leg entire, and another ha* a
broken and mutilated hind leg. The
largest bull in the pond is called Sulli¬
van. and he is said to be able to whip
sny of the other green-headed pugilists
on the premises. The frog* live in
families of generally one male and not
less than five females, each houiehold
occupying some sheltered nook along
the shore of the pond.
The ponds are protected from the en¬
croachments of thu public by a high
board fence, which al*o prevents the
frogs from escaping, Mr. Stevens
claims this to be the largest frog farm
in this country and that the stock is all
from the finest imported breeds. The
frogs are captured for market after
night by the light of a torch or lantern,
as after dark they are always found sit¬
ting on the banks, and can easily be ap¬
proached and picked up. In the day¬
time they are quite *hy and can only be
caught with difficulty. — Chicago Xetcs.
A Cabinet Officer’s Life.
A Cabinet officer, tel.ing a Washing¬
ton correspondeat what his daily routine
is, says: “I got up at 7.30 o’clock this
morning, and sat down to breakfast at
about 8 o’clock. Before I had finished
my private secretary came with a bundle
of letters. A* fast as I fteud them I
dictated answers and *as, perhaps,
three-quarter* of an hofir at the task.
In the meaatime ? five people, old
friends from mj state, had gathered id
the parlor to see mo before I went to
the department. I gare each of them 1
two or three minutes and then asked
one, whose business was really im¬
portant, to walk along with me. I
got to my office about 9.40 o’clock.
There were thirty or more people in my
room waiting, and the crowd was as
numerous until noon, when it was time
to start for the capitol, and I was
obliged to dismissthe rest of my callers.
I then attended a hearing given to some
attorneys on a case of importance. This
lasted until 1.30 o’clock.
“My daughter was going away on
the afternoon train, and 1 thought
I would go home to luncheon
so as to bid her good- by. While sit¬
ting at luncheon I got the cards of five
people who had either seen me go homo
or had learned my whereabouts at the
department. One of them was former¬
ly the head of the department over
which I and was, of course,
entitled to respect. Two others were a
committee who had come to invite me
to make a speech at a banquet. I dis¬
missed them as soon as I could, but by
that time it was 3.30 o’ clock. I hur¬
ried to the department, where my desk
was covered with letters, which re¬
quired my signature. I had to read
each one carefully, of course, and fin¬
ished the last one “at 5. 30 o’clock. Then
I walked home tired out, with the in¬
tention of taking a little nap before I
went to a dinner engagement. But no
nap for me. When I got to my House
there were three Senators and two mem¬
bers of the Houie waiting to see me,
and it was 6.20 o’clock before I got
through with them. Then my wife
assisted me to dress and hurried me off
to dinner, from which I have just re
tufl et *- This * s a sample of all my
days. _____ __ _
What Yon ,n tlw Shooting Star.
A small body, nerhaps as large as a
paving stone or Iargei, more often per¬
haps not so large as amari®i is moving
round tho sun. Just as irni^J planet
revolves in an eclipse, so this sifiU ob¬
ject will move round and round in 3
eclipse, with the sun in the focus.
There are at the present moment incon
ceivable myriads of such meteors mov
ing in this manner. They are too small
and too distant for our telescopes, and
wc can never see them except under ex¬
traordinary circumstances. At tho time
we see the meteor it is usually moving
w.th enormous velocity, so that it often
traverses a distance of more than twenty
miles in a second of time. Such a
velocity is almost impossible near the
earth’s surface; the icsistance of the air
would prevent it.
Aloft, in the emptiness of space,
there is no air to resist the meteor. It
may have been moviug round and round
the iun for thousands, parhaps for mil¬
lions of years, without let or hindrance;
but the supreme moment arrives and
the meteor perishes in a streak of splen¬
dor. In the course of its wanderings
the body comes near the earth, and
within a few hundred miles of its sur¬
face, of course, begins to encounter the
upper surface of the atmosphere with
which the earth is inclosed. To any
body moving with the appalling veloci¬
ty of a meteor a plunge into the atmos¬
phere is usual fatal. As the meteor
rushes through the atmosphere the fric¬
tion of the air warms its surface; it be •
comes red hot, then white hot, and is
finally driven off into vapor with a
brilliant light, while we on earth, 100
or 200 miles below, exclaim, “O, look,
there is a shooting star.”— Albany (X.
Y.) Journal.
The Dwarfs of Central Africa.
Tne fact now seems clearly demon¬
strated that at various spats across the
great African continent, within a few
degrees north and south of the equator,
extending from the Atlantic coast to
nenr the shores of the Albert Nyanza,
and perhaps even further to the east,
are scattered communities of these
small negroes, all much resembling
each other in size, appearance and
habits, and dwelling mostly apart from
their larger neighbor*, by whom they
are everywhere surrounded. Our infor¬
mation about them is still very scanty,
and to obtain more would be a worthy
object of ambition for the scientific
traveler. In many parts, especially at
the West, they are obviously holding
their own with difficulty, if not actually
disappearing, and there is much about
their condition of civilization and the
situations in which they are found to
induce us to look upon them, like the
Bushmen of South Africa and the equal¬
ly diminutive Negritos of the Indo
Malayan region, as the remains of a
population which occupied the land be*
fore the incoming of the present domi¬
nant race*. If the account of the
Nasamonians be accepted as historical,
the river they came to, flowing from
west to east, must have been the Niger,
and the northward range of the dwarfish
people far more extensive twenty-three
centuries ago than it is at the present
time .—Lmdqu Timet.
WILL B. 68AHJI, Editor and Baoager.
SCIENTIFIC SCRAPS.
The climate in the Caucasus is found
to be well suited for the cultivation of
the tea plant.
Accounts from Denver, Col., state
that mica, ground very flue, has been
used on the K »ck ldaud roal as a lu¬
bricant with great success.
The electric light of 20,000,000
caudle power iu the lighthouse at Hans
tholni, in the Biltic Sua, said to bo the
most powerful light in the world, is
uow lighted for service.
Experiments during three months
taken to determine the velocity of the
wind at the top of the Eiffel Tower
show a mean velocity three times
greater at the summit than at the base.
In Gormany they are making coff:e
from linseed meal roasted to a dark
color and mixed with some glutinous
substance before passing through ma¬
chines which form it in the shape of
beans.
To add to our knowledge of terres¬
trial magnetism it is suggested that
regular magnetic observatories be es¬
tablished at the Capa of Good Hope,
South Africa, and at Cape Horn, in
South America.
It is well known that whales can re¬
main a long time under water, but ex¬
act data as to the time have been lack¬
ing. Dr. Kuckenthal of Jena has re¬
cently observed a harpooned whito
whale continued under water forty
five minutes.
Ants arc caught and killed at Kew
Gardens, London, by flowers of the or¬
chid class. The ants are too large for
the flower, but they visit it for tho sake
of the honey and get oaught in the mu¬
cilage. Tho flower, however, suffers
equally with the ant.
In a hard-boiled hen’s-ogg, quite
fresh, a German chemist lately found a
white of a reddish color. He supposed
this to indicate the prosence of a micro¬
organism, which ho tried to cultivate,
and succeeded in developing an intense
growth of bacillus prodigiosu 5 '. “We
have here,” lie says, abacillus that not
stood being bailed for a certain
! ^
fcim wit hout impairing its vitality,
^ onft ifiido of frosh eg?j p
A friend oithe lazy at Bangor, Me.,
has invented dev ce by meais of
which a man ca catch a fish without
fidiing. He (laches a small sleigh
hell to a piece v barrel hoop, one end
of which he inats into a crack in the
dock: “After baiting hisTTino
throwing it overboard lie fastens it to
hoop, puts his hands in his pockets
awaits developments. As soon as
bell is jingled by a jerk on the line
hauls it iu and lands the fi*h.
E lison’s phonograph has found
new application at the
college, where it “will be used as an
sistant in teachiug tho French
other foreign languages. The
graph of course never gets tired,
can be made to repeat the same
or the same word hundreds of times.
In giving a lesson the teacher reads
before the phonograph, at the
time addressing the pupils, and
lesson is reproduce 1 whenever wanted.
That the phosphorescence of putrid
fish or meat is due to tho presence of
bacteria does not seem strange, but
French naturalist, M Giard, has been
making observations of living
Crustacea which go to prove that
phosphorescence is due to the presence
of bacteria iu the muscle i. Oj inocu¬
lating healthy individuals, th) diseased
condition was transmitted, and M.
Giard’s laboratory was well lighted at
night by theso luminous but diseased
crustaceans.
Two very interesting specimens ol
Zanzibar copal gum have ju*t reached
this country. They are neatly polishel
and are full of pre-historic insects of
various kinds, which thousands of years
ago became imbedded in the gum •
What lends peculiar interest to these
specimens is that the origin of such
gums is lost in antiquity, and not only
are the trees which are supposed to have
produced them long ago extinct, but
the very insects found in the gum do
not belong to any known varieties.
The Prayer was Answered.
City Engineer Goodwin of Portland
tells a story of a little Portland boy
who had committed some m sdemeanor
for which he was about to receive
punishment at the hands of his mother.
The boy begged to be first allowed to
g° to his room. Permission was
granted, and the child went up stairs
to his own room and closed the door
behind him. The mother folio wed and
listened outside, after telling him he
must hurry and come down again to
receive his punishment. The boy went
to the side of the bed, knelt down, and
this was his prayer: “Dear Lord, if
you love little boya and want to help
one out, now is your time.” The
prayer was answered. —Leuietoa (Me.)
, Journal.
A Lullaby.
Bleep, my child, soft night-winds woo,
Over thy cradle wakes the cocr
Of mother-love:
Stars Toil is in the blue ami ikiy peep is one done, by one, \
over,
Sleep, little dove’
Silence deep holds the day throbbed world.
The birds in their trim nesf* are curled.
Their carols hushed:
Only the west-wind's music rings,
Soothing dreams to the soul it brings,
Iiy sleep waves rushed.
Dream of birds and flowers and trees,
Of drowsy hum of busy bees %
Without alarms;
Tlien when the Hast with red is flushed,
And nature’s face with gold is brushed,
Wake in my arms.
—Nina I'icton, in Detroit Free iVfiJ,
HUMOROUS.
A swallow-tail—The story of Jonah
and the whalo.
The green apple is deadly, but not so
deadly as the electric currant.
Know thyself. If you can’t get the
requisite information, run for oflico.
First Small Boy—Wo had a lira nt
our house last night. Second Small
Boy—That so? F. 8. B.—Yes. I’a
fired sister’s beau.
Amy—What an absurd liabit that is
of young Daily’s, always sucking his
cane. Susie—I think it is a good plan!
It keeps him from talking, you know.
There is a demand by James Owen
O'Connor for “protection for Ameri¬
can actors.” How would an egg-inter¬
cepting screen at the front of the staga
do?
Fond Mother—You should ro member,
my child, tho little birds in their nests
agree. Johnny—But every onco in a
while ono of ’em falls out. I’m that
one.
Tom Bookstaver (in bookstore)—How
do you like “Looking Hick ward?”
Miss McFiimsey—(flushing slightly)—I
only just glanced around to see what
the had on.
•
A good many people publicly thank
the Lord for their prosperity who would
be very mad if somebody should #ug
gest that they wore not mainly respon¬
sible for it themselves.
The Cedars of Lebanon.
The cedars of Mount Lebanon nro,
perhaps, the best known monuments in
tho world. Distinguished men have
visited them, and their story is told
over and over again. There are gravo
doij|t|ts |
often mentioned in the Bible was the
tree now called tho Cedar of Lobanon.
There is no doubt that the cedars of
Lebanon in more modern times have
been the objects of veneraiion. Tho
most experienced observer who has
seen the cedars on Mount Lebanon is
Sir Joseph Hooker, who visited Syria
in 1860 for the purpose of examining
tho grove, in regard to which little was
known scientifically up to that time.
An account of this visit was published
in the Natural llistory llcview in
January, 1862, with tho author’s
views upon the specific rank and
the origin of the different species or
forms of the genus. The number of
trees iB about 400, and these are dis¬
posed in nine groups, corresponding
with as many hammocks of the range
of moraines. They are of various size*,
from about 18 inches to upward of 40
feet in girth; but the most remarkable
and significant fact connected with
their size, and consequently with tho
age of the grove, is that there is no
tree of less than 18 inches girth, and
no young trees, bushes or even seed¬
lings of a second year’s growth. It
was supposed, until comparatively re¬
cent times, that all the cedars left upou
the earth were in this famous grove,
but now they are known to occur upon
different chains of the Taurus, whers,
with other trees, they form extensive
forests; while as late as 1865Mr. Jesup,
an American missionary, discovered
five large groves in the Lebanon itself,
three east of Ain Zah<eh, in the
southern Lebanon, one of which was
said to contain 10,000 trees. Other
groves were also discovered at this time,
so that upon the Lebanon alone the
cedar is known in 10 distinct localities.
The Oldest Observatory.
The observatory at Pekin is the old¬
est in the world, having been founded
in 1279 by Kublai Khan, the first Em¬
peror of the Mogul dynasty. There
are still in it three of the first instru¬
ments of observation. Taesc were used
for the observation of Halley's come*
in 1738, and may also be used when,
twenty-two years hence, this comet
again appears. The oldest observatory
m Europe is that founded by King
Frederick HI. of Denmark, on the isl¬
and of llveen, in the Sound, and where
the famou* astronomer Tycho Brahe car¬
ried out his celebrated observations—
among others that of the “bright” star
iu Cassiopeia. Tue Paris Observatory
was established in 1671, and that of
Mechanic. Greenwich three years later .—English