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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.”