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What Came of Using the Word j
“One" Instead of “An.”
Frederick II., personally fond of
music and literature, iiad a special
liking for the philosopher Mendels
sohn, who was very witty, as hunch*
backs usually are, and he often gave
him a seat at supper by his side. It
bo happened that some small ambassa
dor—Germany was then divided into
a number of microscopic countries
with pigmy sovereigns—tried tochsff
Mendelssohn, who with his quick re
partee turned the tables at once on his
adversarv. Furious, his dwarfish
Excellency ran to the King and com
plained of the plebian being admitted
to circles above his reach, etc. The
King told him: “Mendelssohn was
my guest as you were, and you should
not have joked with him, or you
should take the consequences.”
“Ah!” said the Ambassador, “he
is a man who would consider nobody,
and would offend your Majesty if it
so happene i that for some imaginary
reason he thought himself hurt.”
“Well,” said the King, “but I shall
give him no reason for feeling hurt,
and anyway, he would not offend
me.”
“Is it a wager ?” asked the Ambas
sador.
“Certainly,” replied the King.
“Well, if your Majesty will do what
I say, we will soon see whether I am
light or wrong.”
“And what do you want me to
do?”
“Will your Majesty at the next
supper party write on a piece of paper,
‘Mendelssohn is an ass,’ and put that
paper signed your own hand on
his table?”
“I will not; that would be a gratui-
ous rudeness.”
“It is only to see what he would
do, whether his presence of mind is so
great, and in what way he would reply
to your Majesty.”
“Well; if it is just for an experi
ment, and I am at liberty afterwards
to tell him that I by no means in
tended to offend him, I do not mind
complying wfth vour wish.”
“Agreed ; only the paper must bs
signed by under the words : ‘Mendels
sohn is one ass,’ so that there can be
no doubt in his mind ,that it comes
from your Majesty.”
Reluctantly, but with a feeling of
curiosity as to how It would all end,
the King wrote and signed the paper
as required.
The evening came; table was laid
for twelve, the fatal paper was on
Mendelssohn’s plate, and the guests,
several of whom had been informed of
what was going on, assembled.
At the given moment all went to
the ominous taole and sat around it.
The moment Mendelssohn sat down,
being rather shortsighted and observ
ing some paper, he toek it very near
his eye, and having read it, gave a
“What is the matter ?” said the
King. “No unpleasant news, I hope,
Mendelssohn.”
“Oh, no,” said Mendelssohn, “it is
nothing.”
“Nothing? nothing would not have
made you start. I demand to know
what it is.”
“Oh, it is not worth while ”
“But 1 tell you that it is; I com
mand you to tell me.”
“Oh, some one has taken the liberty
to joke with very bid taste with your
M»j«dy ; I’d rather not ”
“With me? Pray do not keep me
waiting any longer. What is it?”
“Why, somebody wrote here, ‘Men
delssohn is one ass, Frederick the
second.’ ” _
A Novel Propeller.
A Mr. Oiborne, of South Africa, has
been exhibiting in London what he
calls a fin-propeller which was at
tached to an iron vessel about six feet
long. The model was fitted about
midships and below the water-line
with a rectangular plate, placed paral
lel to a longitudinal vertical plane at
each end. In its centre line this plate
was coupled by a cross-head to a rod
passing through the sides of the vessel
and was connected inside to the pis
ton-rod of one of the two steam cylin
ders, which were placed crosswise in
the vessel, with their piston-rods ex
tending through both cylinder covers.
The cranks of these cylinders being
set at right angles to each other, the
blades received a reciprocating mo
tion, each end moving alternately to
and fr >m the sides of the vessel, which
is by this means propelled. The little
model, heated by spirit lamps, was
worked with thirty pounds pressure,
and run at a speed of aboift 200 feet
per minute; the motion in the water
was slight and the vessel itself moved
with great steadiness.
ON THE SHORE.
My love and I v ent wandering,hand in hand,
Upon tbe gray seashore one winter day ;
The (small white waves crept slowly toward
the laud,
Then turned again like children In their
play,
But to return once more, methought they’d
greet
My love aud lay their homage at her feet.
“Ah I they would kiss thy feet, my dear,” I
cried;
* E’en nature yearns to pay thee homage
due;
The ocean sprites would woo thee from my
side,
And deem thee like their kindred, aye, un
true.
They shall not touch thee 1” then I took her
hand
And drew her nearer to the wide, safe land,
Hwift then the envious sea came nearer by
And washed her footsteps from the darkling
shore,
It would not even let them silent lie,
Least other touch than his should sweep
them o'er.
“3o, deareBt,” said I, “would thy love should
be
But mine alone, as mine Is but lor thee I”
A Blind Manufacturer.
How a Sightless Man Dispenses With a
(iuide and is Making His Foitnne.
Moses Schwartz, a truuk manufac
turer of Brooklyn, is totally blind, yet
he is the proprietor of several trunk
stores, and is a prosperous business
man, and does business with many
customers who do not detect his mis
fortune. When he was a boy, he
ruined his eyes by putting a match in
a pan of gunpowder, and although his
sight was ruined for life, and he was
advised to spend his life in an asylum
for ths blind, he resented such ex
pressions of sympathy, and said that
he intended to make his way in the
woild by means of his remaining
senses. He was passing St. Paul’s
churchyard one day, and being at
tracted by the noise made by the
“fakirs” who stand by the iron fence
to sell their wares, he halted and
opened a conversation with one of
them. “I am blind,” he said, “and
am not going to steal or beg. I think
I can stand here and earn a living as
you do. Now, tell me where I can
buy a stock.”
The next day he was at the church
yard fence with a small lot of goods
and he at once found that though his
sight was gone, he could ory his
wares with a good pair of lungs, and
make his fingers serve him in assort
ing money and making change., F6r
years he remained a familiar figure in
Broadway. He found that his sense
of hearing had become most acute,
and he acquired a .most sensitive
touch. Having a mechanical turn, he
began the manufacture of trunks in a
small way, and now runs a factory.
He can make a trunk as well as any
of his workmen. He has devised sev
eral things in trunk making, and he
avers that one patented article now
yielding a good income to another was
originated by him.
In walking the streets Mr. Schwartz
uses no guide. He holds his head
erect and carries a cane with which
he deftly feels his way. His pace is
slow, and he seems to have no diffi
culty in getting along. His firmness
of manner and dignified bearing cre
ate a space about him and persons who
do not know know his blindness in
stinctively turn aside to let him pass.
If by chance he strikes against any
one he politely begs pardon, touches
his hat if the collision chances to be a
lady, and passes on. “It is foolish,”
he says, “for a blind man to have a
boy or a dog to lead. It teaches him
dependence, and from what I can
learn, men who have guides do not
get along as well as I do.”
“Are you never run over by vehi
cles?”
“I have been once or twice. I was
knocked down by a lady’s phaeton in
Schermerhorn street once, beoause 1
miscalculated the distance of the vehi
cles on acoount of the ta • p^ement,
which deadened the sound of the
wheels. But I have a trick for saving
myself when I’m knocked down.
“I roll over and over just as fast as
I can, sideways, until I’m sure I’m
out of danger of being crushed* Then
I jump to my feet, call out I’m all
right aud go on my way.”
“Few persons know you are blind ?”
“Yes, that’s true. My preient wife
did not know it until after we got in
love with each other. I go into com
pany as muohai I can, and as I talk
and sing, f get along pretty well. I
had, however, to tell my wife of my
infirmity, on one occasion before we
were married to excuse my awkward
ness in a dance. I bumped against
others in the figure so often that they
became angry, and i had to confess
my blindness. I go to the theatre
very often, and nearly always have a
I front seat in the baloony. I am fond
of the music and like the comedy very
much.”
“How do you decide upon your
stock of leather goods ?”
“By the sense of tmich and the
sense of smell. I can tell you all the
different kinds of leather by sample—
by oily feeling and smell. I never was
deedvedyet. In. fact, I get along so
well that some of my rivals have
started the story that I am not blind
—that I only pretend to be.
Women.
When a young lady asked to look at
a parasol, the clerk said : “Will you
please give the shade you want?” “I
expect the parasol to give the shade I
want,” s«^d the young lady.
The Sealskin Saeque.
Tying her bonnet under her chin
She tied her raven ringlets In.
Bat not alone In the silken snare
Did she catch her lovely floating hair,
For tying her bonnet under her ohla,
She tied a young man’s'heart within. j
And many a time that little chin
He's heard irom since, you bet and win 1
And bonnets she’s had for her raven hair
And many a time he's been called a bear,
And now she Is throwing her ringlets hack
And says she “shall” have a sealskin saeque.
A Rockland woman has made a quilt
containing 3,698 pieces. It is unneces
sary to say that this Rockland woman
is nigh on to a hundred, never wore
glasses, milks all the cows on thejarm
and makes all the butter, jaesidej doing
her housework, helping in the hay
field, going to market every other day,
and getting through a thousand and
one other duties iu the course of twen
ty-four hours. It is unnecessary to
mention these trifling things. Of
course this Rockland woman is no ex
ception to the general rule in the innu
merable race of patch workers. ;
Married ot nht^tarried.—>£r. Gough
thinks that it 0 betteh: for ajifroman to
beiaughed if beiat' married,
than to be uitable to laugh because she
is married. The martfAge that tafces
all the laugh out of a yyomaii/like the
sunshine that takes all the gWeethess-
out" of the grape, is atr exceedingly
suspicious commodity, and ought Lai,
give the divorce doctors something to
do. But the idea of trying tp reconj£
die a woman to an unpaired life belf
cause another woman found it uncomi-'
for table, is as absurd as to keep her
from eating applet .because of Mother
Eve’s un/ortuhate pomologies^ expo-.
rience.
Daughters and Mothers,—A Scotch
lady writes: “It is a common disgrace
to us that so many daughter^, full of
health au(d 'vfe|r. Who talk df “loving
their mother, yet allow her to wait
upon them, and drudge for them, so
that they may be free to follow their
owj wills and pleasures. Thank God!
I do believe the day is passing # away
when our girls will brag and boast of
their ignorance of housework. All
classes have seen the mischief such
ignorance and false pride were work
ing, and have conspired to cry it down;
but there is plenty of room for im
provement still. Let us ‘buckle to.’
We will be dainty aud delicatt—lovely
and loveable if we can, but we will be
helpful, useful, hearty and thorough ;
making it our life-aim not to see ho^f
little we can do but how much. . . .
Tne young girl who knows how tc
manage a brush or a duster deftly and
thoroughly, or who can supply the
table with wholesome dainties, cook
or no cook, is infinitely superior to the
one who languidly wonders whether
cucumbers grow in slices, or how
many hours it takes to boil an egg. At
the commencement of her married life,
a wife should get to understand what
the settled income is, and from what
sources it is derived. Spending is a
science which should be conductel
with system and method. The young
wife who feels that she has plenty ol
money at her command, and who goes
on ordering what is wanted, and jus>
paying the bills as they come in, Is
pretty sure to find herself at last iu
debt, and with nothing to pay with in
spite of the plenty
Now, it seems to me that in having
the care of young children, a mother
is possessed of almost unlimited power,
the child is in her hands, ready to be
moulded and fashioned into an honor
able vessel; if through her clumsiness,
or through her want of care, she mar
or spoil its beauty so that It can never
take any but an inferior position in the
world, a second place among men,
shall she who moulds and shapes it be
guiltless?”
A cow with her calf, belonging; to
William Heath, of Columbus, Ga.,
stopped at a brook to drink. A large
ram that had been standing on the op
posite bank walked up to the oow,
gave her a butt square in the forehead,
and killed her instantly.
The Field and Garden.
The best treatment for hyacinth
bulbs after flowering in pots In the
house is to put the ball of earth in
which the bulb remains In the
garden for the summer. Here the bulb
will regain some of the strength ex
pended from the forcing in the house,
and will multiply from year to year.*
The new breed of fowls—American
Sebrights—Is destined to take high
rank a* layers, setters and for the ta
ble. They are rose-combed, beauti
fully marked, aud are short-legged
and compact in shape. They must
not be confounded with the Sebright
bantams, however, as the former are
large in size.
Creameries are coming, and they are
coming to stay. Dairymen should in
vestigate them. Dairy women should
look into this matter and endeavor to
get their husbands to help start a
creamery. There is good butter in it.
There is more and better butter" in it.
A nd last, but far from least, the work
is all taken out of the farm house.
The economy in horse-power ob
tained by using the hardest and
smoothest roads is clearly shown. If
one horse can just draw a load, on a
level, over iron rails, it will take one
and two-thirds horses to draw it over
asphalt, three and one-third over the
best Belgian, five over ordinary Bel
gian, seven over a good cobblestone,
thirteen dver a bad cobblestone, twenty
over an ordinary earth road and
forty over a sandy road.
Marshall P. Wilder says the import
ance of properly thinning out fruit
trees when bearing redundant crops is
more and more apparent. To produce
fruit that commands a good price in
market it has become an absolute ne
cessity. This is seen especially in that
intended for exportation, apples of
goo| siz^ fair and properly packed
.commanding in the English market
fuHy donbie|lie price of those which
had ndtrecefVed such care.
of potash is so strong that
UD^eap;. it-ft • Very evenly distributed
thajfe i3 danger of injuring the crops.
rWhethar it is to be used as ai top dres-
S lg of meadows or on ploughed land
ii always safer and more advanta- I
ops to mix it thoroughly with four
oij. five tirn^s its weight of dry muck
orjsoil previous to application. All pot
ash salts should be applied as early in
the seasoiqkks possiole, that the spring
rains may diffuse them through the
soil. Three to four hundred pounds
should be used per acre. I
The chinch bug is a little less than i
one-fourth of an inch in length ; a lit- |
tie less than half as wide as it is long;
rounded on the under side and flit
above; of a coal-black color, with
white wiMgs, which have a triangular
black dot on the outer margins. The
mouth is prolonged into a slender,
horny, jointed beak, usually turned
under the breast when not in use.
With this beak it punctures tbe bark,
stems and leaves of plants, and sucks
out their juices Its capacity for in
jury lies not in its size but in its im
mense numbers.
The watermelon coutains about 95
per cent, of the purest water aud a
trace of the purest sugar, and nothing
has yet been discovered that furnishes
so perfect and speedy a “cure” for
summer complaint as watermelon,
and nothing else. Even when diar-
rl cei has been kept up by eoutinued
eating of ordinary food until the di
sease has become chronic this delicious
beverage—for it i9 little more—water
melon, taken freely two or three times
a day has again and again been known
to work wonders, and to “cure” when
all the usual remedies iiad failed.
The following is the record of a Ber
gen county (N. J.) poulterer : From a
flock of eleven light Brahma pullets in
one year he sold 58 dozsn eggs for (1/.-
50; 73 chicks (two pounds each, at 25
cents per pound), (38 50; 1 oook,
weight 12 ^pounds, at 15 cants per
poundj (1.80 ; 11 hens on hand weigh-
irg 91 pounds, at 15 cents per pound,
113.65—total, (69 45. Deducting the
value of the eleven hens the total is
(45.85, or (1 per head with the hens
remaining. The cost of feeding, did
not exceed (12, leaving a clear
profit of (3 each.
There is perhaps more hay injured
by uot being dried enough than by be-
lug dried too much. Ooe extreme is
equally as bad as the other. Clover, for
instance, if allowed to become too dry
in the sun, will lose all its leaves and
its blossoms, and the stalks that are
left are of little value. Ou the other
hand, if put In ths mow too soon it
will become mow burnt and equally
worthless. A little of last year’s hay
to mix with each load as it is put in
the mow is very desirable, absorbing
the moisture from the new ht y.
A correspondent of the Germantown
Telegraph says that the main failure
In raising strawberries is in setting
poor plants. Old plants are good for
nothing, new plants from an old bed
are not worth setting. We should
set plants that are grown from those
that have never fruited. When a
plant produces a crop of fruit that fruit
exhausts the energies qf the plant to a
certain extent, and its young ffiants
will not have the const tution and the
vigor of those from plants that give all
their energies to the young plants.
If from any cause the spring seeding
of grass fai’s, it is a good plan to re-
plough or thoroughly harrow and re
seed to grass. The proper time to do
this is from the middle of August to
tbe middle of September. , If this is
done and at the same time a feeding
of barley goes in, there will be fair
crop of green sweet feed that can be
cut and fed late in the fall after the
grasses have lost their virtue. Try a
piece of late barley. Late-sown barley
and late cabbages are very valuable as
late forage crops.
Chronicles of the Odeon,
The audience was the most exacting,
the most merciless and the least man
ageable in Paris. Tbe authors more
than ouce allow their feelings to es
cape them by a brief reference to “ce
public insupportable,” and they cer
tainly give abundant evidence for the
most pessimist possible view of its ca
pacities. A police inspector was al
ways on the spot, and was wont to call
upon the audience to give the piece a
hearing when they were particularly
unruly. The students had a special
objection to the claque, which was
then an institution at the Odeon as at
other Parisian theatres; and on one
occasion, not content with replying by
a storm of hisses to the unmerited ap
plause which the claque had too liber
ally bestowed, fell upon the latter
tooth and nail, and bundled them out
of the theatre. Bernard, who directed
the theatre from 1824 to 1826, was one
of the few directors who had discov
ered the art of managing this unman
ageable audience. The pit was fond
of calling him before the footlights
when dissatisfied with this or that de
tail of the performance, and Bernard
would explain with aD air of paternal
bonhomie which put everybody in
good humor. These qualities did not
fail him even on occasions when, most
| men would have lost their temper.' In
the winter of 1825 a certain melo
drama was produced from the pen of
Thomas Sauvage, a well known liter
ary hack of the time, under the title of
“Preciosa.” The reception awarded
to this unfortunate piece was so terri
ble that the curtain was lowered be
fore the end. But even so the audience
were not satisfied. They clamored in
cessantly for Bernard, till%e director
at last appeared, and asked them what
they wanted. “The end, M. Bernard.
II >w does it end ?” “Preciosa is recog
nized by her parents, and I” (Bernard
had been playing the part of villain)
“am hung—that’s the end.” was the
reply.
The authors were treated quite as
unceremoniously as the actors, and
even the possession of a great name
was no security against the caprice of
the parterre. A story is told of one
unfortunate who was so exasperated
by the reception given to his piece
that in the middle of the fourth act he
rushed bn to the stage, seized his man
uscript out of the hands of the prompt
er, aud made off again, shaking his fist
at theaudieaoe, only too delighted to
have the opportunity of avenging its
insulted dignity by making a more than
usually hideous row. But even Balzac
was not to be exempt from these
little courtesies, though, being Balzac,
he received them in a very different
manner. “Lea Ressources de Quinola,”
performed for the first time at the
Odeon in 1842, was the seeond unsuc
cessful piece of the great novelist.
It was considered to be a poor imita
tion of the Spanish drama, unworthy
of Balzac, and was received from the
second act onward with a storm of dis
approbation. Balzac looked on from
his box while his piece was being
massacred. Never, even at the Odeon,
were the hisses, catcalls and interrup
tions so continuous and ferocious.
Everybody expected that at the termi
nation of the evening Balzac would be
foynd overwhelmed aud in despair.
When the would-be consolers ven
tured into his box they found him, as
his friend and biographer, Leon God-
lan, Informs us, “ssleep aud snoring.
It was only with the greatest difficulty
that they could awaken him.”