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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.