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VOL. I.
Compensation.
The hope that illumines the way of life
Is a wtll-o’-the-wisp that afar
teadeth through mazes of toll and strife,
A ghost In the guise of a star.
Then why should I covet a share, sweet¬
heart,, iallrels
£>f the with which they are
trotVtled
VVfao vanquish; if no onfe will dare; sweet¬
heart; under
When I art! tilfe ground?
Transient and fleeting the light of love
, That indifference shadoweth soon,
Fairest illusion will often pfovc
thus A blight where we hoped for a boon,
memory crushes my soul, sweetheart,
, With the bandage in which I am bound
Til) destiny deal out my dole, sweetheart,
Artel I am under the ground?
Fruit is a dreamlie.ld of youth's bright Jay,
With life in Its beauty anil bloom-;
Happy tho reapers ivho bear away
Its fruits, at the harvest time, home.
But hitter the sorrowful thought, sweet¬
heart,
Though my name may he widely re¬
nowned ;
How barren the waste where I wrought,
sweetheart,
When I am under the ground '<
Joyous the day with its toils and tears,
And troubled (he visitors of night,
Dreary the gloom of the passing years.
Ill their lonely, monotonous flight.
Tls but in r memhering thee, sweetheart,
That toy life's compensation is found;
Thou’It cherish toy niem'fy and toe, sweet¬
heart,
H'hen 1 r.nl Under the ground?
~M. 51. Folsom, in Atlahta Constitution.
THE STRANGES,
hr S; Walter norris.-
“ ’Taint the Wily ail holiest than ’ttlfi
act; ttoitoWi” said old “Dad” Tangle,
with ff decisive shake of his tinkept
Head. “There in that Old sliality he’s
iiVed fer three Weeks flow, and; barfin’
When lie’s bought grub here in the
store, nary word hez he said 10 me
since tile night he comer’
“Nor me,”
“Ner me.’*
then a speculativ feii on the
smoke-enVeloped group artJund the
stove.
‘‘Like ez riot;” continued the old
man between his puffs, “we’re a-lmr-
boriit’ fl runaway erim’nal front the
East; Or a liossthief;”
‘■He don’t look ’zactly like a
crim'nai;” spoke Out a prominent
citizen, known as Fizzletop. “We
didn’t s’picion nothin’ when lie drove
Up ill that big Wagon o’ ids’ll and
asked if there was a cabin he could
rent,”
“That’s jes’ it,” interrupted Dad
with emphasis. “ -Pearances is de¬
ceiving. Would a man shut hisself
up alone in-doors ail day if he wasn’t
a sharp or sutnp'in’? Would a man
live three weeks in th’ town without
minglin’ with the l>o s er inwitin’
■em up to his place, if he knew ther
wav’nt nothin’ agin him?”
These unanswerable arguments had
hardly been unburdened, when there
came a gentle knock at the door, and,
a moment later, the subject of the con-
versa ion stood within the room.
lie was a man of perhaps 35, tall
and slight, with skin of effeminate
whiteness, and deep-set eyes which re¬
flected the quiet earnestness of an un¬
usually thoughtful and sensitive mind.
An intensely black, drooping mus¬
tache seemed rather lo assist in ilie
prevailing tone of sadness in the face.
With an easy self-posse sion, the
newcomer removed his hat, an act evi¬
dently of natural and unconscious
courtesy, and, with a slight inclina¬
tion of the head, which seemed to in¬
clude all in the roam, he greeted the
loungers with a low-spoken- “good-
evening.”
There was a long, awkward pause.
A bright sp. t flashed into each of his
pale cheeks as Lis greeting passed un¬
answered, but lie sti 1 retained his
thorough self-possession. Replacing
his hat with a firm motion and keep¬
ing l.is eyes unflinchingly on the
crowd, he proceeded to explain calmly
what he wanted, liis horse had died
the day before in the shed at the cabin.
If some one could he gotten to remove
the body ho would be we'l paid tor the
trouble.
It required a strong prejudice to
out-balance an offer of this kind, blit
popular feeling seemed to be decidedly
against tile Stranger, and, in Saddle-
town, popular feeling was very likely
to prevail.
Finally one of the men removed a
corn-cob p pe for a sufficient length of
time to drawl out, with mock gravity;
“Reckon you’ll have ter git rid o’
the boss meat yerself, mister. None
o’ the boys seem to co'.ton to the j -b.’
This speech was hailed with a round
of gutlaws from the Saddletown citi¬
zens, and before these had died away,
the Stranger with a slight bow, had
disappeared as quietly as he had come.
Perhaps it was the laugh that had so
mollifying an effect on the assemblage.
Perhaps it was the ever-increasing to¬
bacco fumes that soothed it into better
j»ood. Be that as it may, there cei-
THE ENTERPRISE.
tainly was a reaction in favor of the
Stranger after his departure.
The western miner of a dozen years
ago was a curious mixture of good
and evil, swayed by the slightest of
impulses, and, perhaps, only this can
account for t* c flood of good feeling
Which rolled into Dad Tangle's little
shop as the evening progressed.
FiZzietdp declared; With more good
humor tiian respect; that “the old
lidhe-bag sCemed gamey," and even
bad himself allowed that “he might¬
n’t be so lmd arter all.” This tvas flic
state aftriira had reached when One of
the boys suggested, With a laifgli, that
they should go over and “cart the bid
boss away before morning.”
The idea had been offered as ti joke,
and yet, fifteen minutes later the
crowd was struggling through rite
moonlight toward I he Stranger’s
cabin.
It was decided that Fizzletop’s team
should be used,as his shanty was near¬
est that of the Stranger’s, and the boys
had almost reached the old shed, when
suddenly there was a quick exclama¬
tion from F.zzletop, a clatter of
horse’s hoofs, the sharp crack,crack of
a derringer, and in another moment
some of the party were chasing a
riderless horse, while the others bent
over a motionless figure in the road.
The figure was that of the Stranger,
The horse was Fizzletop’s,
The Change from good humor to in¬
dignation was extreme, Even before
the unconscious man was pronounced
still alive several Were making toward
the shed in search of a rope. The re*
port of FiZZletop’s pistol had quickly
attracted a number of spectators, and
Dad Tangle Was expounding on the
keenness of his perception of character,
and his ability in particular to detect
a horse-tliief “at first squint,”
Strange to say, Fizzletop seemed lo
take the affair more calmly than the
others, “Give the man a chance,’’ he
said; ns the rope w.s tiro light Up,
ready noosed. “lie can’t esc pe. Let’s
Carry him over to his cabin and give
him a trial,”
After a good deal of grumbling at
“puttin’ the thing off,’’ this Was finally
agreed to, but Dad insisted oil taking
the rojie along so that it would be oh
hand when wanted.
It was only a few steps to the
Stranger’s cabin, and when Fizzletop’s
horse iiad been returned to the shed
there the still unconscious ihait Was
borne.
After forcing open the do it and de¬
positing the limp figure in the already
lighted room, the men proceeded to
examine carefully (lie interior, and
many were the expressions of surprise
at the shelves of books, the great
lamp, and the general air of neatness.
But the supreme sense of Saddletown
justice was not to he shaken by mere
sentimentality.
Dad Tangle had just delivered him¬
self of the opinion that as the Stranger
had been seen making off with the
ho. se no trial was needed when one of
(he men suddenly interrupted him
with:
“Hello! what’s this?”
In a moment the crowd was clus¬
tered spellbound around the speaker.
On a peg hung a little frock, while
beneath rested a pair of tiny shoes.
The rough, hard faces were studies
in their varied expressions.
It. was F.zzletop who broke the
spell. Without a word he stepped
quickly to the bedside and pushed
aside the curtain. On the pillow lay
a flushed little face, amid a tangle of
golden curls.
One or two of the miners turned
away with heads bent forward
on their breasts. Fizzletop’s hand
trembled strangely as lie held aside
the curtain, and old Dad Tangle es¬
sayed to speak, and got as far as
“Well, I’ll bo blowcd,” when some¬
thing seemed to choke him, and after
swallowing suspiciously two or three
times, lie made his way uncertainly
out of doors.
The light on the tiny face awakened
tiie little sleeper, and the blue eyes
opened wonderingly.
“Wnere is papa?”
Several more of the group, with
silent and unsteady steps, passed out
through the open doorway.
“He’s a—a—asleep now,” Fizzletop
answered, huskily; and the curtain
dropped to conceal the motionless
figure on the floor.
“He said he was going to bring a
doctor for me,” said the childish
voice.
“A doctor here in town?” he asked
with quick earnestness.
••Oh, no,” answered the little one
simply. “The people in town wouldn’t
help us."
“But have you uo mammy, dearv?”
“Mamma is dead,’ said the child,
gravely. word Fizzletop
Without another
turned, With one bound lie placed
his ear to the figure on the floor.
CAKNESVILLE, GA.. Fill DAY, JUNE 27.1890.
“Off with his coat, boys,” he tvhls-
pered hoarsely, as ho dashed through
the doorway, and a moment later there
was a clatter of flying hoofs.
So the little flushed face had a
doctor after all, and the doctor had
two patients instead of one.
“They’ll both be all right in a few
days,” he said to the circle of anxious
faces as he rode away. “1 knew tho
man over in ’Frisco. He’s heart¬
broken and despondent over the loss
of his Wife, hut lie’s a first-rate fel¬
low.”
It woflid be mil Hie lo say that in
after flays the tall,- slight figtlre Was
tlie mdst popular cme in toWtt; for the
most po'piilaf was not it matt at all;
hut then; next (0 tlie iitlle goldeft-
Jmired girl Came the Stranger.—[De-
ro'it Free Press;
The Profits of Authorship.
A New York letter in the Philadel¬
phia Press says: I caught one of our
best-known authors in a confidential
mood recently, and his comments on
the revenue of authorship, which he
gave me permission afterwards (o
print, carry interest with them, I
may add that the name of this author
is one of the most widely known in
American literature to-day. “Seven
years ago I chose between law and
literature. I had every opportunity to
succeed at (lie bar, for, through hard
study and my connections, a lucrative
practice seemed open to me. But I
turned to authorship. To-day I am
what tlie world calls a successful au¬
thor, My last novel was hid for by
three publishers, and my royalties, I
am told by my publishers, nre higher
than those of the majority of their
Writers,
“I have tlie pleasure of hearing my
hooks and name hawked on the trains
when I am travelling, the newspapers
give me from a quarter of a column to
a column and a half reviews. But
what has literature brought me in
money? Let me open my vest pocket
to yott. Here is my actual revenue
for 1889, and Includes, as yoii see,
royalties On six of my novels, maga¬
zine articles, etc,, and everything is
collected. Here is the total—$2170.40,
Compare theso actual figures to the
paragraph recently circulated in which
t am reputed to earn $10,000 from
ltiy pen, is it any Wonder that the
Unsophisticated enter literature With
false hopes? Yes, print these facts if
you Wish; only, of Course, withhold
my name and identity,’’ I reproduce
here the facts and figures as they were
gi , eti to me. I only wish it were
possible, for the gake of those who
think that literature is a bod of roses,
to give this author’s name.
What a Choir Singer May Earn.
A soprano, in an average city, will
be paid, as a beginner, anywhere from
$200 to $300 per annum. As she be¬
comes better known, and is in inoro
thorough command of her voice, she
will average from $500 to $800. Bos¬
ton pays about $200 per annum better
to choir singers than any other city in
my knowledge. Several*sopranos there
receive yearly salaries of $1000 and
$1200, and a few $1500.
A woman with a good contralto
voice will begin with an annual salary
of $200, which, if she is tuceessfnl,
may rise lo an average of $300. There
are two churcl es in Philadelphia, I
believe, which pay their contraltos
$400; but this, in cities outside of
Boston, which i s with sopranos aver¬
ages about $200 higher, is unusual.
And even a genuine alto, that rarest of
things in these days, will command hut
from $300 to $400 per annum. The
Hub, of course, does better than this by
$200, hut even with this addition none
of these sala ies appear precisely ex¬
travagant, or to admit of much luxury
in living, and salaries are rarely in¬
creased. Should a rival church make
an offer for a voice, if the lit st church
is desirous of retaining it, the rival’s
price isoverbid and the voice retained
A Fortune in Asparagus.
“On a spur of Lake Tohapekaliga,”
says the Orlando (Fla.) Sentinel, “six
miles by water and about nine by land,
sou’ll of Kissimmee, is the already
famous asparagus plantation of Mr.
F. Goblet, who went there about a
year ago from Charleston, S. C.,where
in ten years preceding his departure
he amassed a fortune in the cultivation
and sale of asparagus, which was
chiefly shipped to Northern markets,
and it is his main purpose to giow it
here on an immense scale, the design
being to plant fifty acres of it. It is
argued that it can he placed on the
market at a season when there is no
competition, as the time of planting
in South Carolina and Georgia is in
March, while here it is in January,
giving a crop two months earlier. The
colossal experiment will be watched
with intense interest by the agricul¬
turists of Florida.”
STANLEY’S BIG FIND.
IMMENSE FORESTS OK INDIA
ltlHUKK TREKS IN AFRICA.
The part played by rubber as a factor
in civilization.
The discovery by Slanley of im¬
mense forests of India rubber trees in
the valley of tho upper Congo will
mark a new epoch in the industrial
history of the world. During the
past fifty years caoulcjfonc, popularly
known as India rubber, has been a
most important factor in promoting
civilization.
Many can remember when the only
tise made of this substance was as an
eraser for pencil marks. About (lie
tear 1825 a Boston sea captain brought
front South America a pair of shoes
Such as were worn by the Indians in
Brazil. They Were formed <>f rubber,
which Was incited and allowed to cool
over pieces of elsiy, shaped something
like a human foot. These bIiocs at¬
tracted great attention, and arrange¬
ments were made for importing many
pairs of them. From that time till
the present the pro.re-s in finding
methods of treating India rubber and
applying it to new uses has been
steady.
Several chemists and inventors gave
their attention to it for years. An
Englishman discovered a way to dis¬
solve it and use it for giving a thin
coating to silks and other kinds of
cloth, and water-proof clothing, blan¬
kets and tents soon appeared on the
market.
Its general use for springs for rail¬
way cars soon produced a great de¬
mand for it mid carried up the price.
Soon Goodyear in this country and
other experimenters in Europe discov¬
ered that a union could bo formed be¬
tween caou chouc and sulphur, by
means of which the first snbstance be¬
came endowed with new properties.
The new material, vu'eatiized rubber,
became the modem wonder of tlie
World. It Was of great, value to
science, as it was to tlie decorative
and industrial arts, It proved to be
adapted lo a greater number of pur¬
poses than any material ever employed
in construction. It effected a revolu¬
tion in more than a hundred old arts
and created new ones.
A rubber store, sticli as is found in
any of our large cities, is a n.tisctim
of curiosities. It embraces almost
every article formerly made of wood,
metal, clay or any Vegetable or animal
substance,
It contains nearly everything that is
used from (lie cradle to the grave, In
it are nursing hot les, rings used by
infante in cutting teeth, toys for chil¬
dren, halls for youths, instruments for
surgeons and tools for a’l kinds of
artisans. Rubber goods now minister
to the wants of people of all ages.
Ours is tho rubber age, Life lias been
prolonged and made more useful and
enjoyable by the Use of a substance
obtained from the sap of a tree foilnd
ii a few tropica' countries. If Stanley
has found an immense forest of rub¬
ber trees in tlie interior of Africa, he
has discovered something much more
valuable than “Kiilg .Solomon’s Mines’’
or the great diamond fields. He has
made himself the benefactor of the
entire human race__[Chicago Herald.
Fisli-Linra Six Miles Long*
According to a contemporary; they
fish with fish-linos six miles long in
Winnebago Lake, Wisconsin, and use
20,000 hooks on every line* if tl.By
do not haul up 2000 fish every time
they lift a line they don’t think (hoy
are having .very good luck. And every
iish will wcigli from twenty to seventy
pounds. One of these fish-lines will
reach half-way across the, lake. It is
stretched out into the lake by means of
boats, large buoys being attached to it
t. intervals to keep it on the surfucc.
The 20,000 hooks, baited with pieces
of meat or fish, are lowered to the bot¬
tom of the lake by snoods of the proper
length which are fastened lo the main
line. It takes twenty boats, with iwo
men in each, to look after this big fish-
line. Each boat has 1000 of the snoods
in its charge. These are tied lo the
main line eighteen inches apart, and to
bait all the hooks once requires not
less than 1000 pounds of bait. It takes
the forty men and twenty boats ten
hours to set the line for the first time.
After that the fishermen are employed
in going over the Tne, hauling in the
sturgeon that have been caught on the
hooks, and rebaiting where it is neces¬
sary.
To haul in u 70-poun.i sturgeon
from the bottom of (be lake is an ex.
citing piece of work; but it requires
more strength than skill, as the fish
always has the hook several inches
down his throat, haying sucked bait
and ail down without any regard to
cougfsqirenoes. There is no danger of
losing the fish unless the hook breaks.
When the fish is lmuleel to the surface
a golf as big as a meat-hook is thrust
into one side of its head, and the star-
geon is hauled into the boat mid
knocked in the head with a heavy
maul. The hook that captured it is
cut out of its throat, rebaited, and
thrown back into the la>e. The aver-
age catch of sturgeon is ono to every
ten hooks.
The fishermen know the particular
sections of the line which they work
by the arrangement of the buoys.
These are placed 10 feet apart, and
one in 150 of them is painted red.
The space between (lie red buoys
contains 1,000 hooks, The sections
are numbered and tlio boats are num¬
bered. The boats work the sections
as their numbers correspond with the
section numbers. While (lie average
catcli is one sturgeon to ten hooks, it is
no uncommon thing for the fishermen
to find but one or two in the entire
section of 1,000 hooks. The very next
section may contain the full average
of 100, and perhaps more.
The Lake Winnebago sturgeon is
highly prized among lit© lumbermen
and others in the region. Its flesh is
finer and of better flavor than the river
or salt-water sturgeon of tho East.
The fish sells at six cents per pound
retail. Large quantities are salted and
smoked for use in (lie lumber-camps.
France Buries Ail Its Citizens.
It is the law in France for the gov¬
ernment to bury all of its citizens. In
that country funerals are a govern¬
ment monopoly and the undertakers
are military officers, ranking usually
as majors or captains. The liner the
funeral the higher the rank of the of¬
ficial in charge, who is dressed as a
rule in black velvet, with much gold
lace, a sword and a cockade. The
burial bureau in Paris occupies one of
the largest buildings in the world,
if you die there your relatives and
friends are not consulted at all as to
your funeral. The bureau, upon re¬
ceiving report of your death through
the police, takes its own’steps to find
out tho social position and menus of
your family. In accordance with its
information on these points tlie funer¬
al is ordered. If the bureau decides
that you ought to have a first-class
funeral you are compelled to have it
Whether or no, and if it is not paid
for promptly the family goods will he
confiscated. The sort of funeral
chosen for you will he one of eleven
classes, as the bureau may direc', the
expense descending from $6000 for a
first clas: burial to $12 for a tenth-
class interment,
Patipe, s come in the eleventh clasj
and are put underground fot nothing,
After yottr demise tour late residence
will be draped with black inside and
out by the authorities, and yottr rela¬
tives will be permitted to have no con¬
trol of anything, save only a choice as
to whether your body shall be ern
balmed or not, For this service $500
is charged, In tills country the cost of
embalming is from $25 to $50, but
oVOr there they pretend to understand
processes app oaeliing in cffeclivencse
those of the aneient Egyptians, Nc
private individual in France is per¬
mitted to engage in the undertaking
business. It is the same way ill Italy,
Where burial is also a government
monopoly, and in Russia all the em¬
balming is done by the government.—*
[Washington Star*
Where the Barley Grows*
III a report upon the cultivation of
barley, prepared by M. Tisserand,
bireotor of Agriculture in France, it
is estimated that the world’s amnia)
production of this grain is 825,000,00(1
bushels, of which three-fourths are
grown in Europe and the remainder in
the United States, ©aliada, Chili, India,
Austialia. Japan, T&iis and Algeria.
The total value is estimated at about
$800,000,000. The countries of largest
production are stated as follows:
iltlss'a 129,000,000, the United King¬
dom 93,000,000, Germany 93,000,000,
Austria-Hungary, 88,000,000, Spain
77,000,000, France 49,000,000, Sweden
and Norway 22,000,000 bushels; out
of Europe—Algeria 60,000,000, Egypt
27,000,000 bushels.
Queer Little Flies.
The state entomologist of New York
has on his desk at Albany a jelly glass
containing hundreds of queer little
flies. They belong to a species which
rarely infests dwelling houses. There
are only three houses in the United
States known to be infested by the fly
—one in New Hampshire and two in
I New York state. These insects ap-
pear during the winter, arc liveliest
wbep it i8 coldest, and disappear in
April. If they should suddenly
change tbeir habits, and conclude to
become bouse flies, what an affliction
it would bo! We should then have
flies the year round.—[Cnicago H :r-
aid.
FOR THE HOUSEWIFE.
WHITKWASII FOR CELLARS.
The best whitewash for collars is e
simple mixture of linio slaked in
water, with enough salt added to make
it cling to rough places. It should be
applied with an ordinary whitewash
brush, as it is very injurious to a fine
kalsomlne brush to use it for any such
rough work.—[New York Tribune.
FREEING HANDS OF VKGF.tAbLF, STAINS.
Reeling potatoes, apples and othor
vegetables and fruits will discolor the
hands. Borax water is excellent to
remove stains, and heal scratches and
chafes, l’nt crude potusli into a largo
bottle, and fill with water. When dis¬
solved add more lo the water until at
last the water can absorb no more,
and particles can be seen at the bot¬
tom. To the water in which the hands
are to ho washed, pour from tho bottle
enough to make it very soft, It is
cleansing and healthful, and by its
use (lie hands will ho kept in good
comliti ii.
A CUAWI.ING-RUG.
“I have just tinishod ‘a crawling-
rug’ for an infant nephew, which is
pronounced a great success,” says a
correspondent of the New A ork
World. “I will explain that it is in-
tended to be spread on the floor foi
the protection of the baby’s clothes
and his majesty’s amusement, It is
of Turkey-red, two yards square, and
hemmed around the edge, In tho
centre is •Baby’ in good large letters
cut out of white muslin, aril button¬
holed on to tho red foundation in
washing cotton. All over, a little
distance apart, are aniinalsof all sorts,
horses, elephants, pigs, dogs, cats,
&c., &c., cut out, also in white, and
fixed on in buttonhole stitch. I copied
pictures of animals and enlarged
them. This rug will wash. I have
seen a crawling-rug in cinrse brown
linen, witli animals cut out of differ¬
ent colors of sateen. It is great fun
for the baby.”
STARCHING.
When the mixture is cool enough to
dip tlie hands in, turn tho articles to
he starched to tho rigiit side, and dip
them into tlie starch, taking cave that
every part is well wetted with it. If
they arc shirt fronts, gather up the
front of the shirt in your hands and
starch it in such a way as not to stiffen
the rest of tlie garment. Then in like
manner take up (ho cuffs, and dip
them into the starch; wring out al*
the superfluous starch by covering the
starched part with a piece of old
linen, and squeezing it till there is no
starch left clinging to the shirt-front.
Next, pull the starched part out
straight, ami hang it out of doors in
the sun, or by the fire to dry.
When quite dry and stiff, lay the
ihing-i on a clean, uncovered deal
table, and damp them one by one,
sprinkling or syringing them from a
basin of tepid water. They must he
damped evenly, hut not made too wet.
Then pul! the fronts and cuffs a little
Into shape, and laying all the starched
parts one over the other, cover them
with the other parts of the shirt, and
roll them up as tightly as possible to¬
gether, leaving in a banket lo spryad
the damping equally through the
whole, *
Collars and such small things, filter
being thoroughly soaked in the starch
and wrung out, should he spread out
smoothly on a white towel, or piece of
old linen, and rolled up tightly in it
like the shirts.—[New York Voice.
KKCIVKS.
Chicken Soup—Prepare a large, fat
thicken; put ill the soap kettle with
two quarts of cold water, one onion
and a sprig of parsley; let rimmer
gently for two hours, thcti add two
choppod potatoes, When done, put
in the-beaten yelks of two eggs, a
lablcspoonful of butter, a grated nut¬
meg and a little salt and pepper; take
up the > hie. eu and strain the soup.
Carrots with Curry—Scrape and cut
young carrots in four lengthwise;
stew until tender. To a gill of the
water in which they were stewed add
a gill of milk and an ounce of butter
rubbed with half a tablespoonful of
flour, a little salt and a teaspoonful of
curry powder. Let this simmer in a
saucepan until it thickens; slide in the
carrot", cover for a few moments and
serve hot.
R'ce Loaf—This affords an oppor¬
tunity of utilizing cold meat. Roast
amb, mutton, veal or venison are
rest. Butter an earthen dish and i*
he bottom spread a layer of warm,
soiled rice, next of the minced meat,
ivhich has been highly seasoned and
moistened with u beaten egg aud a
sttle gravv; then add another layer of
;he rice. Steam one hour and turn
>ut. carefully upon a platter, pouring
over tlie whole a little drawn butter or
ricli milk gravy.
NO. 25.
The Harper.
The harper woke anil sung his songs
As God and Nature taught him;
The busy world passed by in throngs,
And with rough words besought him
To leave his craft, an idle choice,
To those of rarer hand and voice.
The harper slept. The scales fell off
Illlnd eyes, and cars grew sharper;
Praise rang from lips all-used to scoff:
“A great man was our harper'.”
And round the sleeper's name and tomb
Is wreathed the lnurel with its bloom.
—[Emma C. Dowd, in Youth's Companion.
HUMOROUS. >
The ground-hog—Sausage-meat.
A pawnbroker is deserving of sym¬
pathy. Ho is a loan creature.
“How are you coming on?” in
quired the man of his wet hoot.
Tailors say that the fast man is gen
orally pretty slow about paying up.
How the tobacco habit is spreadinj
—oven horses smoke after a hard run
When a man is going down hill in
finds the attraction of gravitation nm
the encouragement of the public i
great help to him.
“Can you show me the grub tha
makes the butterfly?” she inquirer
sweetly. “Buckwheat’s tlie grub, bu
tain’t in season,” answered the horrid
ignorant grocer.
A New York editor is trying to do
cide which is proper, “f saw an
opera” or “I heard an opera.” If he
sat behind the regulation size bonnet
the latter term is correct.
Officer—“Well, Anton, how’s your
master today?” Orderly—“l’oor,dear
captain, he’s no hotter yet. Wanted
just now to shy his hoot at my head
hut hadn’t the strength to do it!” .
A man in a village of Holland was
seen one day painting a heavy black
line on tho gahle-end of his house, and
attaching to it a date, say November
18, 1882. Asked what lie was about,
he said: “I am moving iny high-
water mark up to where the hoys can't
scratch it out again, I am sick of
their pranks.”
An Indian Robin Hood.
.Thunda, the dacoit, who was re¬
cently killed in an encounter with the
Indian police, appears from tho ac¬
counts of his life given by the papers,
to have been a kind of Indian Robin
Hood. He began his career in the
native army, hut soon left the service
for the more congenial occupation of
robbery. *ln 1874 lie was captured
and sentenced to fifteen years’ im¬
prisonment. After breaking his arm
in an attempt to escape lie remained at
Meerut goal till 1888, and became the
most expert carpet weaver in tlie
prison. On his release he. collected a
hand, which soon became the terror of
Meerut and the adjoining districts.
His usual course of operations was to
pounce upon a village and call upon
the local shroff, or hanker, to produce
his bonds and receipts, which were
then publicly burned, while the shrofl
himself was plundered. This style of
proceeding made Jhunda popular with
the indebted classes, who form a large
proportion of the rural population,
and by their aid lie succeed in defying
tho police for the last two years. Like
his English prototype, he is also said to
have been charitublc to the poor.
There was at first some doubt whether
he was actually killed; but his identity
is now placed beyond question.
Gold ill read.
The base of tho “gold thread” of
commerce is silver, which is brought
from the Bank of England in cakes
weighing about 1000 ounces, Gold
leaf is carefully incorporated with the
silver by hammering, and nflenvard
the whole is subjected to a charcoal
fire. The bar is now ready for con-
version into wire. This is nccom-
pUshed by drawing it from 100 to 160
times through ever-diminishing holes
in steel plates, uml finally, when the
capabilities of this metal have been ex¬
hausted, through apertures in dia¬
monds, rubies or sapphires. 'The deli¬
cate wire thus obtained must now be
passed through the steel rollers of one
of Herr Krupp’s little “flatting m'lls.’-
This brings us to the final process—
the spinning of tlie flattened wire
round silk, to form the golden thread
of commerce, These spinning ma-
chines are worked by water, although
two steain engines are to be found in
the factory; tor water power is con¬
sidered to he more regular and even
in its action.—[Commercial Adver-
riser.
An Electrical Cliuru.
The Count of Assata, i:i Italy, lias
connected his dairy plant with an elec¬
tric motor of twelve horse-power. This
drives a churn with a capacity of some
400 quarts at the rate of from 120 to
160 revolutions per minute, producing
butter of tlie finest quality in 30or 3-5
minutes.— [Trenton, (N. J.) Ameri¬
can.