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More than two-thirds of tho ngi iml-
tural implements, aggregating $120,-
00.0, imported into Natal,* Soufh
Africa, last year, were from the
United States.
The Belgian government n«nv asks
$4000 for permission to give hypnotic
performances. Doctors may make ex-
periments in the interest of science,
but the theatrical practitioner wit
have to pay high.
Wotnen certainly have no ground of
complaint that professional avenues
of employment are closed agrinat
them. There are today in ihe United
Slates 2500 women who hold diplomas
ns doctors of medicine.
The Florida orange has so fur sup¬
planted those from the Mediier aneau
that they will be shipped directly from
Florida to Europe. In the Liverpool
(England) market they bring nearly
double the price of other oranges.
Librarian Spofford of the Congres¬
sional Library at Washington points
out a curious error in (ho E icyclo-
paulia Britannica, which, confound¬
ing state legislation in Virginia with
national enactments, states that the
United States Congress passed seventy
acts authorizing lotteries.
Since 1821, when Mexicans rid
themselves of Spanish rule’, they have
had, according to the New York
Herald, three regencies, two emperors,
Iturbide and Maximilian; one pro¬
visional government, 26 federal presi¬
dents, 10 centralist presidents, 10 dic¬
tators, 10 constitutional presidents and
six conservative presidents. Sixty-
eight new governments in 70 years,
ono almost for every year!
Krupp, the famous German cannon
maker, is of the opinion that Chile
aud the Argentine Republic cannot
maintain amicable relations much Ion-
ger. Each thinks itself the model re.
public of S >uih America and would
bo very willing to get at the other’s
throat in order to prove it. Chile
would not liavo so easy a time of it as
she did with her other neighbor,
Peru, but her victory would be most
dearly bought.
Tho Si. Louis Republic lias present¬
ed in brief some appalling statistics.
It starts with the statement that ono-
eigluh of our population, say 7,500,-
000 are young men; and it discovers
that only fifteen to every hundred go
regularly to church, and out of every
hundred some 75 never go at all. H
this estimate is correct for the whole
country, there are 250,000 young men
iu tiii* city, of whom lo7,500 never gu
to church. AmLto these must be add.
ed many thousands of older men whe
refrain from tho same indulgence on
Sunday-.
Tiic Manufacturers' Record of Bal
tim re, Md., which is devoted tc
gathering statistics of the Sou hern
states, publishes a table showing that
the assessed valuation of property for
the purposes of taxation in the four¬
teen states of the South was in 1880,
$2,913,466,095; in 1889, $4,220,166,-
400; in 1890, $4,393,550,536; in 1831,
$4,816,396,896. The exports from the
four ports of New Orleans, Galveston,
Charleston ami Newport News in.
creased from $130,762,133 in 1890 te
$156,845,452 iu 1891, and the total
value of exports from twenty-four
Southern ports for 1891 was $296,-
557,510. The South is growing rapid-
y, and the prosperity of that section
seems to be pretty evenly distributed.
There recently died at Westminster,
Sid., an aged colored man, Abraham
Ireland, who was a subject of study
among medical men. Iu liis youth
Abraham was as black as jet; when he
died he was entirely white. The
change was gradual but sure, first ap¬
pearing in the form of white spots,
which in course of time spread over
Iris whole body until there was no
black to be seen. Both his parents
Were full-blooded Africans and slaves.
He was born in Baltimore county on
Palin Sunday, 1809, and changed mas¬
ters several times, until thc Emanci¬
pation Proclamation made him his
own. The old man received handsome
offers to exhibit himself from P. T.
Barnnm and other showmen, but he
preferred to work for a living at his
trade of tanner, and kept in retirement
as much as public ensiosity would let
him. He died of the “grip.”
j American paper is fast supplanting
that of English make in Australia,
' ow.ng to its superior quality and
cheapness. One mill in New York
Sale has permanent orders from that
country to supply 6000 tons annually.
The study of the Hebrew language
is increasing in this country, asserts
the Chicago Herald, not only among
the believers in Judaism, but among
Christians. Rabbi Schwartzberg says
that an acquaintance with it is indis-
posable to scholars, that it is easily
learned, and that it conveys a vast
deal of knowledge in almost all the
tranches of science.
Since Dom Pedro’s death tho most
interesting of the “Kings in exile” in
Europe, observes Harper’s Weekly,
is ex-King Francis of Spain. In
every way he is qniie unlike the
Brazilian monarch, for he is so small
in stature that ho seems almost to be a
dwarf, and he is not noted for any
nobilLy of mind. He lives at Epinay,
apart from his wife, ex-Queen
Isabella, who occupies a handsome
mansion near the Arc de Tnomphe.
Francis is said to bo one of the mean¬
est of men, while Isabella, despite all
her faults and the stains on her char¬
acter, is popular in Paris, because of
her hospitality and kindness of heart.
•
_ _
By the latest enumerations it is
found that in all civilized lands the
female element is gaining in a nota¬
ble way upon the other. In tho past
decade in Great Britan tho female in.
crease lias been 200,000 in excess of
the male. It has been an era ol
peace, too. No wars have cut any
figure in killing off the men. There
are 900,000 more females than males
in that country. The excess in Ger¬
many reaches a million, and the pro-
portion is about the same in Austria-
Hungary, Sweden and Norway and
other Europen countries that afford
the data. In the United States tho
average is still somewhat in favor of
tho mt^es, owing to the immigration 1
of that element; but in the older por¬
tions of the country the inequality is
the other way, as in Europe. Iu New
England and most of the Atlantic
Mutes the males are in a large minor¬
ity. This will bo the general fact in !
this country in no remote period, even
if there are no destructive wars. This
excess of females is not peculiar to |
mo< j 0 rn times,nor can it be entirely pc-
counted for by the greater exposure of
the men to fatal disasters. When nature
is interrogated there is no other re-
spouse than reference to the obvious
fact.
Says ihe Omaha (Neb.) Bee:—
“Nebraska and Kansas arc deeply in-
terosted iu the arid lands problem,
Should the project of conveying these
lands absolutely to the states be car-
ried out these two states maybe sc-
riously affected. All our water-courses
of any consequence rise in Wyoming
and Colorado. If these latter state 8
are given absolute control of the irri-
gation question as it applies to tlv avid
lands of those states, they Hill have it
iu their power to deprive us absolutely
of the water which now courses across
the state in the Republican, Piatte and
Niobra a rivers. They may choose jto
store it, and so prevent us from ob¬
taining any benefit from the sources
in the mountains. The people of
Colorado have already taken possession
of tho head waters of tho South Piatte,
and at times that stream is dry. Iu
Colorado and Wyoming aro the water¬
sheds of this country. It is not sur-
prising that they should be enthusias-
lienliy in favor of state ownership of
thc arid laud* and state regulation of
thc question of irrigation. With such
authority they could readily develop
every fertile acre within their bound¬
aries, but in doing so they might im¬
poverish Western Kansas, Western
Nebraska, part of South Dakota, all
of New Mexico, and purts of Utah,
Idaho and Arizona. The danger is
not so great to the last three sections,
but so tar as the western portions of
Kansas and Nebraska are concerned
the two states hold the key to the sit¬
uation and they might make it impos¬
sible to farm in New Mexico. The
fact is, that the proposition to convey
thc arid lands of the West to the sev-
cral states involves questions of the
utmost importance to the states im¬
mediately adjacent to the states and
territories ordinarily- included in the
arid belt.”
The Light of Life.
Two little children whispered love
Beside a quiet stream.
The sunlight played about their forms
In many a golden gleam.
“And this, ” I thought, “is innocence.
Love’s purest, sweetest dream.”
A lover and a maiden sat
Beside the running river,
He whispered vows of endless love
That nought but Death should sever.
“And this,” I thought, “is Love that lives
sday. Then dies forever.”
i aged couple o’er the sand
Their footsteps slowly wending,
Two shadows on the ocean strand
In perfect twilight blending.
‘And this,” I thought, “is Love, indeed
That lives when Life is ending.”
—Arthur J. Lamb, in Once A Week.
KATTY’S PARTY.
BY HELEN FOKKEST GRAVES.
“Katty, what are you thinking of?”
laid Mr. Dilkes, brusquely, “Fire
all out! Lamp not lighted!”
He had come in from the barnyard
with two foaming pails of milk and
a liberal powdering of snow on his
fur cap and heavy beard, and as he
3et the pails down on the buttery ta¬
ble, Kathleen sprang up and lighted
the f-quatty kerosene lamp, and raked
the broken logs together, so that a
vivid blaze rushed up the old chimney
throat.
“Have you got the butter all print¬
ed?” said he. “And tho poultry
packed, and t the laid down? I.
eggs
shall have to make an early start to¬
morrow morning, and there’s every
prospect of a snow blizzard.”
“It’s all ready,” said Kathleen, som¬
brely.
Mr. Dilkes turned short around and
looked at her.
“Eh? What’s the matter?” said he.
“They’re not going to invite me to
tho party at Griggett’s!” the girl an¬
swered.
“Thcv ain’t, eh? Why not? I guess
you’re as good-lookin’ as any of ’em,
and ag good, too!”
“I couldn’t help overhearing Mally
Griggettand Josie Kirke talking about
it when I went after the mail to-
night,” said Kathleen. “They had just
got their letters, and I was waiting
for a chance to get near the mail win-
low, and there was a pile of drygoods
boxes between me and them. Mally
said why wasn’t I asked? and Josie
said because I never returned any of
thc neighborhood parties. It was all
take, she said, with Kathleen Dilkes,
and no give. And it was quite true,
uncle.”
Mr. Dilkes moved uneasily in liis
chair.
“We ain’t party-giviu’ folks,” said
he.
“Then I oughtn’t to go to parties,”
retorted Kathleen. “And I don't see
that I shall any more. Nobody will
ask me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind.” soothed
Mr. Dilkes. “It’s all folly and lion-
sense, anyhow.”
Kathleen's lovely blue eyes flashed,
“I don’t think it’s folly and non-
sense,” said she. “I want to go. All
the young people but ma are going,
and I’m tired of drudging and work-
ing the whole time without n bit of
fun.”
Mr. Dilkes was silent. He tipped
his feet against an uneven brick in the
hearth and stared at the fire.
Kathleen came closer to him.
“Uncle,” said she, “can’t I have a
Twelfth-Night party?”
“Nonsense!” growled the old man.
“It wouldn’t cost much!” pleaded
Kathleen. “I’d make all thc cake
myself, and I’ve saved enough out of
ni y g | iare G f the chicken money to boy
sugar and lemons. And my dress
needn’t cost anything. I could trim
over my white bunting, with a little
new ribbon. May I have a Twelfth”
Night party, uncle?”
Mr. Dilkes rose suddenly to his
feet.
“No,” said he, “you can’t! And
there’* an end of it!”
Kathleen said no more. She was
u , e <J t o her uncle’s moods, and knew
that there was no use in striving
against them.
But half that wild, stormy winter
night she sobbed silently on her pil¬
low and rebelled against fate.
[ Early in the gray, frozen daybreak
i Mr. Dilkes rose, ate the hot breakfast
of sausages and coffee and fried po¬
tatoes that Kathleen had ready for
him, and started off for Cone City in
bis red cutter, snnsrlv lined with buf-
falo robes and packed close with the
produce of his farm.
He had scarcely been gone an hour,
when an unexpected guset arrived at
the house—Miss Dorothy Purple—a
friend of Kathleen’s dead mother and
a distant cousin of herself.
“Oh, Miss Dorothy!” cried the
girl. she
And to her faithful bosom con¬
fided all her troubles.
It was so nice to have some one to
talk to!
“But this won’t do,” said Miss Dor¬
othy Purple, viewing tho well-shod
toes of her pretty feet as she warmed
them at the fire. “You can’t be shut
up here like a lark in its cage. You
must go out like other people. I don’t
wonder they have left off asking you.
You must give little companies, too.
Otherwise you’ll be left like me—an
old ma : d.”
And Miss Purple’s bright black eyes
sparkled merrily.
“I’ll talk to your uncle about it
when he gets home,” said she.
“It won’t be of any use!” sighed
Kathleen.
At noon, however, the depot boy
came plunging through the drifts with
a telegram.
Mr. Dilkes had heard from his
brother in Pennsylvania, who hud had
some sort of accident He had decid¬
ed to go directly to him for a few
days.
“Katty,” said Miss Dorothy Purple,
wav j U g a very pretty pocket handker-
chief above her head, “this is provi¬
dential interposition.”
“What?” cried Kathleen.
“We’ll have the Twelfth-Night par¬
ty now,” said Miss Purple. “Write
your invitations at once. Send ’em by
the depot boy. Don’t you see there’s
no time to be lost? I’ll help you with
the cake and coffee, and I know a
grand recipe for ice-cream.”
“Ice cream!” gasped Kathleen.
“Why not?” said Miss Purple, with
a bird-like tip of her head. “There’s
plenty of ice and snow outside, and
plenty of cream in your milk-room.
We can have kisses and mottoes, too.
1 know how to make ’em; and I shall
want a lot of spruce and hemlock
boughs to decorate tho rooms!”
“1 can git ’em for ye!” said the de¬
pot boy, displaying teeth enough for
an ocelot.
And as soon as Kathleen had caught
her breath, the proceedings began in
good earnest.
“What will Uncle Dilkes say?” cried
Kathleen, as they stood ready on
Twelfth Night, ail dressed, with the
supper table spread in the big kitchen,
temporarily transformed into a bower
of evergreens, and the big parlor de¬
nuded of its carpet and bedecked
with wreaths of princess pine and
clusters of scarlet hollyberries, while
“Black Jack Blackman,” with his fid¬
dle, and. little Billy Nickham, with his
clarionet, sat waiting for the arrival
of the first guest.
“O, I don’t care what he says!” said
Miss Dorothy, audaciously, “You
don’t happen to know, do you, child,
that twenty years ago, before you had
opened those big blue eyes of yours
on the wicked ness of tills world, he
used to be a beau of mine?”
“A—beau of yours! Uncle Dilkes!
Why didn’t he marry you?” ques¬
tioned Kathleen.
“He didn’t quite ask me, Katty.
You see, iu those days, before my
blessed father went into Mexican sil¬
ver mine speculations, I was Miss
Purple of Purple Hall, and he was a
poor j ouug farmer, He didn’t like
to be thought a fortune hunter, I sup-
pose. Well, times have changed.
I’m poorer; be is richer; and we are
both wiser; I only tell the story to
prove to you that I’m not in any way
afraid of Harmon Dilkes. There
comes a sleigh full of people.”
The Twelfth-Night party was a
brilliant success. The ice cream was
a surprise; the snow-mountain of a
cake developed a series of the most
astonishing effects; the mottoes made
no end of fun, and the dancing held
out until long after midnight.
Suddenly in the midst of a wild
Virgiuia reel, the door opened. Mr.
Dilkes stood there, fur capped and
coiiared, like Santa Claus in a
tableau.
Black Jack sawed the fiddle strings
with bis bow. Little Dick puffed his
cheeks out over the clarionet like one
of Raphael’s cherubs; the dancer*
flew by, and only Mis* Purple saw the
snow-strewn vision.
She closed the hall door, ai] j
Santa Claus face to face.
“Harmon I” she uttered, gently
“Why—Dorothy Purple!”
“Exactly,” said the little o'd j
“I’ve come to visit you. Kat|
has made a party in my
you find a word of fault, I’ll
house tonight.” I
“I! Fault! Dorothy,” breath!^
cried the farmer, “if you were*
queen I couldn’t feel more
I—I— Oh, Dorothy!”
She laughed a little hysterically
“Then you haveu’t quite for»B
me?”
“Look here, Dorothy—you
rich grandee no longer. I ain't
to speak my mind to you, as 11
was. But you’re just as pretty as
Dorothy, Dorothy! what’s to p J
your stayin’ here for good and J
Ilis breath came rapidly, his
sparkled. “Say yes, Dorothyl
beeu in love with you all these
I’ll be a good husband to you
Dorothy Purple caught his 1
gaily.
“Come,” she cried, “dance i
the Virginia reel with me as you
to do I”
“If you’ll say yes, Dorothy.”
“Yes!” she cried, in a sort of
tation. “Quick, Harmon—the n
waits!”
And the eyes of the whole com
side were amused by the
spectacle of old Harmon Dilkes
iug down the Virginia reel
hand with Miss Dorothy Purple.
Kathleen looked on
Black Jack nearly dropped his
bow. Bat the old man was ficB
and nimblest of the lot, and
last the music stopped, he turueBl
front of the big fireplace and
them all.
“Friends,” lie cried,
“I’m glad to see you every one,
hope this is only the beginning
lot o’ good times! Don’t go yet.
got something to tell you. I’m
to be married to this lady here,”
ing tightly on to Miss
pie’s hand, “and I want you
come and dance at my
day month. No, Dorothy, it
use demonsttating. Aiul if
the rest of you have any
way, I’d advise you to speak
this merry Twelfth Night.
mony’s sort of in the air just at]
season.”
“If that’s the case,” said
Manly, the squire’s son,
boldly to tlie front, “I’d like
notice that Kathleen has half
tonight to be my wife.”
“And I’ve come to terms with
phi no Ivhrfc,” cried John Jo*
waving his hat. “One weddm’ mi
many. Three cheers for Mr.
and Miss Dorothy Purple!”
“Well, Katty,” said Miss
when the last chime of sleigh li
had gone joyously away
door, “your uncle didn’t scold
after all. ’
“Scold!” beamed the old man.
am too happy m er to scold
again. I tell *u what. tvutty,
may think that young Manly
is very line, ■ ut there ain’t no
chap in a radius of twenty miles
here as is half as well pleased as
tonight Come here, Dorothy.
got Katty in one arm, now I
yon in t’other.”
Dorothy came with promptiti
and snugged up to his
ored left side with eyes full of
laughter.
“But there’s one thing you’re
to be disappointed about,
said she.
“Eh?” 1
“I’m an old maid,” said Dorotl
“but I’m not a poor one. We had \
our property when wc sold Pan
Hall and went away from here. I
father built his fortunes up anew \
West. I can bring you twenty
sand dollars for a marriage
“I don’t care,” said Dilkes,
was twice as much, I couldn’t
you no dearer. Money ain’t no drs
back to me.”
“Why, uncle,” laughed Kathlet
“that am’t the way other people talk
like other folks, ' **
“T never was
Farmer Dilkes.—-[Saturday Night*
Clergyman (showing a lady vis' 1 '
round the church)—So, madam, tC
.
have now seen the organ and "
nave; I should like uext to cond*
you to _ the altar. Lady—Oh, tbi* I
so sudden.