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About Wayne County news. (Jesup, Ga.) 1896-???? | View Entire Issue (Oct. 4, 1905)
THE BEAUTIFUL KINGDOM. There are faces alight with the glory of love r" In the “Kingdom of Never-grow-old/' There are hearts that are light as the clear skies above And In happy that kingdom he who of beauties dwell dwell untold. is can can in in that that land land Where children liidren are are ruling ruling with with scepters scepters in in hand, hand. For :>r youth yomn is is the me monarch monarcii of or one one nappy happy band, band, In the “Kingdom of Never-grow-old / 5 No sorrows lurk deep in grim thickets of gloom, .But In flowers the “Kingdom of beauty of Never-grow-old/' in bloom, V* And are ever The laughter the pathways of little are shining borne as gold. the ones on air Is surcease of sorrow and cure, for all care. For happiness reigns and has banished despair In the “Kingdom of Never-grow-old/' The little hands wave a warm welcome to all In the “Kingdom of Never-grow-old/' The sweet little voices in harmony call, And their little arms wiat to cn/oId. And Father Time pauses to taste of the joys, To join in the games full of romping and noise. That are played all the hours by sweet gir.s and boys In the “Kingdom of Never-grow-old A Come, walk with me through the cool shadows deep In the “Kingdom of Never-grow-old.” And backward the years of our troubles will creep, While stories of youth are retold. AH burdens grow light and all cares we dismiss; The gates are unlocked by a sweet baby kiss, Ami Love sits enthroned in the City of Bliss, In the “Kingdom of Never-grow-old.” —Will M. Maupin, in The Commoner. s LOST AT THE GREAT I FAIR E3V SELMA MAGRUDER. HE Russian fairs at Nizhni s T 6 Novgorod are rather good instances of everything w 7 should which not a be. world's They fair are f quaint and medieval, how¬ ever, being vast gatherings of semi barbarous peoples and tribes of many races. They are worth visiting once, with camera and note book. ' Nizhni Novgorod is situated at the confluence of the geat river Volga with the Oka. I’here iias been an annual fair here, or in this vicinity, for ten centuries. The city is on both sides of the Oka. The fail' is held on the left bank, in a system of booths and warehouses, of both wood and stone. constructed especially for the purpose. , 'Ordinarily the population docs not exceed sixty thousand, but during tlie fair there are sometimes three hull deed thousand people about tlie town, from every part of Southeastern Eu¬ rope and Asia. Hither resort Armen¬ ians, Persians, and tlie sleek, fat mer¬ chants of Bokhara and Ta dikend. with traders from distant China and India. There are three thousand boot its, or small stores, for rental, each construct¬ ed as a show room for goods, with quarters for the proprietor in the rear. Goods valued at not less than three hundred millions of rubles are brought here for sale or traffic -silks, cottons, teas, furs, hides, knives, swords, dag¬ gers and weapons of ail kinds, sacred images, costly robes, musical instru¬ ments, and a thousand trinkets and utensils peculiar to mid-Asian coun¬ tries, as well as great quantities of grain, oil and salt. Bnt the strangest, most remarkable feature of the fair is the people them¬ selves, in the odd dress of so many different countries and tribes — Tar¬ tars, Kirghiz, Buriats. Georgians, be¬ sides Russians and Cossacks, Turks and Syrians. It is said that fifty dif¬ ferent languages'and dialects may be beard spoken here. Tlie Volga, “(lie Mother of Waters,” is to the Nizhni Pair what Lake Mich¬ igan was to tlie Columbian Exposition at Chicago. Its broad expanse rests the eye, its great majestic curve beau¬ tifies the whole Eastern landscape. My aunt, Miss Ella Magrudev. and l vere at the fair here from August 1 to August 27. fifteen days, and on tie afternoon of tlie 17th my aunt and i accompanied an excursion of Bokiia ran merchants up the rivqr on a steam boat which they had chartered for the occasion. The Bokharans are very corpulent people, apparently much ad dieted to the pleasures of tl.e table— they appeared to be eating all the time we were on the water, even when tlie steamer ran aground on a mud-bar and was In some little danger. Aunt: Ella, who had learned many words of their language, made sure that their entire conversation was of food and drink. in consequence of the delay aground our excursion boat did not get hack to Nizhni until long after dark, The wharves and streets are badly lighted at night. But what made trouble for Aunt Ella and myself that evening was that the steamer did not land at the same wharf from which we had started. Understanding so little of the lan¬ guage we did not learn the change, but supposed that we were back at the wharf we had left. From that we bad our bearings well in mi ml first up tlie Otinioi street, past the cathedral or Sober, then down the Prevedjski to the little Hotel Ivan Veliki, where we had taken lodgings. Ail unaware, tha we were a long distance farther up the Volga, my aunt and I went ashore with confidence, and set off through the now darkened street*. We passed a large structure, which in the obscurity we took for the Sobor, and-making two turns, came to a door which, although silent and tm ligbted. we believed to be that of our hotel. "It's the right place, for here s til little white icon." said my aunt, ing at it. But, alas! there are many doors in Nizhni with little white icons, Previously there had been a candle in the hall, and we ntd usually caught a giimp jf our Coi sack landlady Itairia Knavra. To-night the candle was not lighted. We groped our way to the door of the parlor. This, too. was unlighted, and we noted a strange odor. "Sel¬ ma,” my punt exclaimed, in suddenly concerned tonra, “something must ha vo happened hero!” Apprehension had already fallen upon me 1 hardly knew why. It was thet terrible odor, I think, .Then I fumbled for a little shelf, where I re inemberetl to have seen a match case. But before I found it we beard a cry ! in tlie hull from which we had just come, a terrible, beast-like cry which sen! cold thrills to our hearts. Aunt Kiln sprang to my side. “Mer oy!” sin- whispered. “Was that a man or a beast?” A frightful scuffle now began just outside the door of the hall, and we clung to each other in panic, uncertain what, to do. Then a floor on tlie other side of tlie room* burst suddenly open, and a muttering person—whether man | or woman we could not distinguish— | j rushed of blindly it by through the room and out tire hail door, evidently williopt perceiving us. The hubbub in the hall increased momentarily. Instinctively my aunt and l fled out at that door. VVe had no idea where it led, but we knew that something had gone terribly wrong with our hotel. Tiie door led into another dark pas¬ sage, which we now explored in ner¬ vous haste, holding out our bands to feel our way, and stepping cautiously for fear of pitfalls. “If only it leads to some side door out,” my mint, whispered, “we will go to tlie Hotel de Prague, where we set out to go when we came.” Immediately we came to a door which opened outward, but not into the street. We appeared to be In a kind of courtyard, with high, dark, enclosing wails, hut we could see tlie stars. What seemed to be great boxes, or pens, stood round the sides, and there was the,game awful odor. “Oil. where are we, Selma?” my aunt exclaimed, and then, close at hand, something stirred and sniffed horribly. Not far away, too, a big dog began barking savagely. It was more alarming than anything I had ever experienced. “Let us go hack!” I whispered. “We shall be torn in pieces!” My aunt, indeed, had already re¬ treated into the dark passage, and for some minutes we stood there and 11st ened. It would be quite impossible to depict in words the sense of dread i which had come over us, for we did not know where we were, and could not understand how we had come into ,-uch a place. Then something even more alarming occurred. Behind us, in the direction from which we had eoine, a door opened with a sudden bang, and sounds of a terrible scuffle were borne along the passage. Something, cither man or beast was apparently being dragged, niggling, along the floor witii an accompaniment of yells, shouts and imprecations. Aunt Ella was trembling violently. ! drew her forth into the courtyard again, for the tumult in the passage was coining toward us. We hurried across the dark, open space, peering about for some avenue of escape to the street. The dog was still baying furiously. What the stir and sniffing in the pens round the yard signified we could only conjecture fearfully. Presently we came to an archway, and stole into the gloom within it, I hoped that it might lead out to the public street. But we merely emerged into another courtyard, full of carts and boxes, and iiere three or font* other dogs began harking noisily, rush¬ ing up close to us. In vain I chir¬ ruped and said. “Good dogs!” the curs barked the more zealously. They would hearken to none of our English blandishments, and I was in much ap prehension lest they should set upon ns. On tlie opposite side of this court there appeared to be three doorways, ind now, in the desperate hope to at ract human attention and secure guidance out of the place we knocked and then called out repeatedly. But if there was any response those dogs re making such an uproar that we I heard nothing. Tlie doors had large iron hand grasps. I tried all three in turn and lied hard at them. They seemed o he locked, but the last one yielded a bile, and by a harder push I forced it Thereupon the dogs became uproarious. Two of them laid hold or our dress skirts, and to avoid them we entered hastily and closed the door. The place was pitch dark, evidently a storeroom of some sort. It was close and stuffy, smelling of attar of roses, and with my first attempt to move about I stumbled upon great bales of what appeared to be woolen goods. Similar goods also Rung along the walls and on lines stretched across the room. My aunt had sunk wearily to a seat on one of the bales. “At least we are safe here for the moment,” she said, “if only we can keep the door fast!” 1 could but feel very apprehensive, however, for those dogs were clamor¬ ing just outside the door,-and where there are goods there must be proprie¬ tors. But nothing further', happened for a long time. We arranged as com¬ fortable seats as possible by pulling the soft bales about, and we now de¬ termined to stay there for the night, and trust to good fortune in the morn¬ ing to extricate ourselves from the coil in which we were involved. Aunt Ella has always declared that she did not close her eyes during the night, but I am afraid that this is self delusion on her part. We were both very tired from the long trip on the river and this more recent excitement of losing our hotel. Strange and alarming as was our situation, I am quite sure that I fell asleep myself af¬ ter the dogs grew more quiet. I have a remembrance, too, of hearing my aunt breathing with great regularity. The odor of attar was very soporific. I waked after a time, and when rec¬ ollection had come pondered our situa¬ tion earnestly, and decided on a course of action at daylight, lu reality day had already* dawned. Soon I heard the low voices of men without. “Don’t you think, aunt, that it will be as well for us to speak out and dis¬ cover ourselves to them?” I whispered. “It would be very awkward to be found hiding here.” Aunt Ella was fearful ns to the re¬ sult, but while we argued the matter in tremulous whispers tlie door was suddenly pushed open. It was already light, and two .tall men, whom we knew to be Armenians by their dress, entered, hut stopped short in astonish¬ ment when they saw us rise, blinking, from our improvised couches on the soft bales. What those two merchants thought may never be known. They seemed astounded. Nor did my hurried efforts! to explain in French the nature and cause of our intrusion do much to make the situation clearer to them. They stared, and soon one of them snapped his fingers impatiently, saying something to the other, which I have little doubt might have been translated as, “Beyond doubt these are thieves. We must coll the police.” Tlie dogs, too, were barking noisily again, and for tlie moment I was quite at a loss. But now Aunt Ella rose to the emer¬ gency. Pointing to ourselves, she called out the name of our little hotel, the Ivan-Veliki, and of our landlady, Daria Knavra. The two Armenians looked unfeign edly puzzled; nor was their suspicion Very surprising, for now that the light of morning streamed in, I saw that the storeroom contained great quantities of beautiful cashmere shawls, some in bates a«d some hanging ten deep on lines. Meanwhile, acting on my aunt’s in¬ spiration, I had contrived to ask the Armenian^, in Russian, to send for Daria Knavra at the Hotel •Ivau-Vei iki, and this they at last did. A leather unpleasant half hour fol¬ lowed, during which we were evident¬ ly under surveillance. Then our good Cossack widow and landlady made her appearance, and gathered us both to her broad bosom at once. The kind soul had been sending over all the town for us, and had been much concerned for our safely. Her effusive identification and ex¬ planations proved quite sufficient. The two merchants, much amused, escorted us from their courtyard with the po¬ litest of bows and many expressions of commiseration for our misadventure, and as we made our way out to tho street we learned something of the cause of our many alarms during th© long hours of the night. The ramshackle old square which we had passed through before reach¬ ing the Armenians’ storerooms was used during the fair as the temporary quarters of a menagerie and circus.— Youth’s Companion. BtmlleR of the Vernacular. This is tlie conversation between the girl with the ftfty-eent earrings and the girl with the gold-plated bracelet on her wrist: “Sayliz! Ilajjer vacation yet?” “Nope. Gettit week afnex. Haj joors ?” “Bet! Haddflgoodun, too.” “Where jugo?” “Allaroun*. Crosslqke. Downtindin napolis. Gonnaweek. Mettalotavoid friends naddasplendtime. Suropindoln’ everyday. Sayliz, did jevvergo tindin napolis?” ,‘Nope.” “Sailright few gottaiotta friends there. Punk few hatn’t. Gotcher place picked, out ehet?” “Y’bet! Imagoin’ twaukshaw. Gues sile gofun there t’ the country.” “Wawfor?” * “Ojuscause. Gottabuncha kidslong Libbenjinnentom. Mawzez theyvall *» ,, “Stoobad! ,, Sayliz, „ ,. howja , like Gus . , . , “Punk. Fize him I’d shave." “Sodi. Aaingotno use Mm anyway." “Neithervi Wdl along” “Slong.”—Chicago Tribune. _______________ Japan occupied Formosa in 1800. By 1903 the island’s exports rose from $7,- 500,000 in 1897 to $10,250,000. and tho imports from $13,031,000 to $19,400,009, Plucl? cm3 (MiNtiiure. A PIONEER THIEF. KXKXHOjQk f*come APTAINS out of of industry the West have ns s f. $ well as the East. And ihe great San Joaquin Valley KiftlGifcKifjif of California lias produced its quota. One of the best known of these men was Jasper Har¬ rell, who had his home in Tulare Coun¬ ty, but whose business transactions carried him all over the State and iuto other States as well. No one had a wider acquaintance than Mr. Harrell, for he was one of the very early settlers in that region, and he literally grew up with the valley. He was an exceedingly popular man. and this was probably one reason why he flourished as a rancher and stock¬ man and amassed a goodly fortune before the close of the nineteenth cen¬ tury. lie handled large herds of cat¬ tle and was a'dealer in and grower of hay and barley to such an extent that he came to be familiarly nicknamed “Barley” Harrell. One bright spring day, long before the Southern Pacific Railroad wound its crooked, double-line track up and over the Tehachapi Mountains from the great valley’ into the Mojave Desert, Mr. Barrel and Ids father-in-law start¬ ed from their home in Tulare County to ride on horseback to Los Angeles, a distance of 250 miles at least. But such lengthy journeys were not infre¬ quently undertaken by stockmen and merchants in those ante-railroad days in California. The two men stopped over night wherever twilight caught them, for the country was almost unin¬ habited and there was no hotel this side of Los Angeles. One night, in crossing the Tehachapi range, they made their camp in a grove of scrubby oak and brush. Their horses were staked out to graze, and, after a meagre meal around the camp¬ fire, the two men arranged their lied for Ihe night. Mr. Harrell had around him a strong, wide, buckskin belt in which he carried $1(100 in gold coin. With this lie intended purchasing a number of cattle rated as feeders, and those would then be driven hack into the valley and prepared for the mar¬ kets. Unbuckling his heavy money belt, he threw it on the ground Under his saddle, whch he always used as a pillow In camping out. Sweetly and soundly the two men slept out there under the silently pass¬ ing stars, with no thought of harm or Dint of danger. When morning came (hoy arose early, built a lire, cooked and nto their break¬ fast with a relish, and then brought up their horses to lie saddled and bridled. When Mr. Harrell picked up his saddle he stared at the bare ground and whistled sharply.. “Where in Lucifer is that belt and my money?” , Sure enough, il had disappeared. The camping ground and every article on it were carefully searched, and then every foot of ground within a wide circuit was minutely gone over; but not a sign of any belt or money was found. Neither could any tracks of either man or animal he seen. It. was a mystery wlmt had become of that money belt, for they were many, many miles from any human habitation, and no one had passed them on (he trail for days. Giving up the search with reluctance the two men went on south to tiie end of their journey, but they did not buy any entile. About thirteen months later Mr. Har¬ rell and another of liis livestock friends made the same horseback trip again. They camped not far from the place where the buckskin belt had been lost on tlie previous journey. “Right over yonder,” said Mr, Har¬ rell, showing his friend, “Is where I lost sixteen hundred dollars in gold when 1 went through here about a yenr ago. I’d like to know what be came of that pile.” “Let’s go over and look around there again, just for fun,” suggested his friend. They did so, and strange to relate, they accidentally stumbled right over the very spot* where the money had been dropped. For over twelve monlbs that heap of twenty dollar gold pieces had been kissed by the grass and flow¬ ers, wept upon by tlie rain and dew, winked at by the stars, smiled at by the moon, Inflamed by the sun and fanned by the breezes; yet there they were apparently unchanged in. the least. Though the money had mysteri¬ ously disappeared, it was almost as strangely recovered, A11 of it was found hut two twenty dollar pieces. Here is the explanation: A hungry coyote had passed by the sleeping travelers and had sniffed around till it found the buckskin belt. This was seized and carried off to a safe dis¬ tance before the animal stopped to chew up the buckskin. On the way two of the coins had dropped from the belt, but the rest of the gold held in place till it was torn from its recesses as the sharp-toothed hungry coyote de¬ voured his stolen tid-hit.—San Fran¬ cisco Chronicle. PUT UP A BRAVE DEFENSE. A detachment of six men were ear tying . dispatches from a command ,....... near Red River to Camp Supply. Of the six, two were scouts, : Amos , Chapman ,,,.______ '™‘ ! “* 1U * ° ,hers w ' ir e ‘»valo'men. f ar away from any wf- f ,,s ° lbey ' TCT “ surrounded h - v two hundred Indians. They sought shelter in a buffalo wallow and pre pared to hold their ground. The at tack came at 0 o'clock in the morning, an( } tlie long, long day stretched be fere them. In the first rush four these six men were woundefl, Private Smith mortally so. The other hurts wore severe. They were hemmed in on all sides in an open plain, and were outnumbered almost twenty to one! One of the scouts, while a severe fire was being poured in at them at close range, succeeded in throwing up a scanty intrenehment with his bowio knife and his bare hands. His com¬ rades held the Kiowas and Comanche*, off until this little help was ready as a' refuge, and they moved into the trench, the wounded walking with brave and painful effort. Although Private Smith was wonnff ed unto death, he sat: upright in the] trench to conceal his crippled condition from tho foe. From early morning un¬ til night this handful of five men was under an almost constant fire, often at such short range that they could bring their pistols into play. Thus they fought for their own lives and defend¬ ed their dying comrade, without food, and for drink only a little muddy rain water mixed with their own blood. They killed more than a dozen Indians and wounded above a score. Relief came that night, but it was thirty-six hours after their first attack before medical aid and food could b« given them at the nearest post. Pri¬ vate Smith died before camp was reached. Every man was wounded, Scout Chapman severely and Scout Dixon several times, but not danger¬ ously. This band of four soldiers and two scouts were of those who had been fighting and marching for weeks amid the most dreadful privations. They were worn to skin and bone, but their souls were as “big as all outdoors,”, and they flinched at no odds under, heaven. And by stick men as tliesd was this nation made.—Outing, SERPENT ON A GIRL’S ARMS. When Miss Margaret Deardof, of near Gettysburg, Pa., was engaged irj making up her brother’s bed a large blacksnake crawled out from under th i pillow and coiled itself around he right arm. The terrified girl attempted to tear the snake away with her left; hand, coils but the in an instant had tlie encircled writbingj her) of serpent left wrist also and her arms were squeezed together ns if in a vice.’ Screaming for help she ran from the house into the garden, where her brother was working. Mr. Deardorf could not kill the snake with a club for fear of hurting his sister, but soon succeeded in cutting off the reptile’s head with a penknife .The snake made no effort to' bit and the girl was unin¬ jured, except for the bruises where the, colls of tho serpent crushed the mus-‘ cles.—New York Press. FARMER’S WIFE KILLS RATTLER Mrs. Ward McIntyre, wife of a farm¬ er, of Boston Corners! N. Y., had occa¬ sion to go to the spring near her home to get water. As she leaned over to drop the bucket she heard a rattling noise behind her, and turned to he greeted by a sight that made her blood run cold. A few feet away, its long, sinuous body coiled and its head poised to strike, was a rattlesnake that looked ns big ns a lion oomitrtetor. Mrs. Mc¬ Intyre is a woman of nerve and- re¬ source, and the feeling of apprehension, lasted a second only. She seized a' fence rail which lay near by and threw) it at the reptile, striking it across the body and pinning it to the ground. She then jumped on the rail and held the snake fast until her little girl hadj brought her husband's rifle to her. snake’s! Shej then fired three bullets into the body, putting It .-out of business. Mrs.; McIntyre was nearly exhausted, but exultant over having killed a rattle¬ snake with twelve rattles and measur¬ ing six feet.—New York Sun. CALMLY DRILLED AS, SHIP SANK. The story of tho loss of the Japanese cruiser Tftkasago in December last.i only published since the destruction! of Rojestvensky’s fleet, is a military, classic. After the Takasago tho struck as-'; aj mine and began to sink crew sembled in perfect order on the upper! deck, there to await tlie battle with a stormy sea and death. Captain Ishi-; life! bash! ordered every man to nse a belt, and directed that’ no one jump! overboard until the ship actually sank.; The crew then .joined in singing the national anthem, cheering the Em-, peror, and, lastly, five hundred they sang voices “Gajlantj ring¬ Sailors,” their ing out above the storm. After that,,' as a relaxation, th*us the men they were went allowed] ealmiy| to smoke, and to their deaths. Of five hundred men who went down with the Takasago,] uferej only one hundred and thirty-three rescued.—Tokio Correspondence of the . Associated Press. FOLLOWED BY A LIONESS. While a lady and gentleman were proceeding by ricksha from Salisbury to Ardbennie on a recent Sunday even¬ ing they were considerably alarmed by; seeing, soon after crossing the railway, a lioness cross their path some twenty five yards ahead of them. Being taken so much by surprise they failed to check the bays, and pro¬ ceeded on tlicir journey. Shortly after¬ ward they found the beast, about ten yards in the bush on one side of them, and she proceeded thus for over a mile and a half. Fortunately, owing to the dirty and slippery- condition of the roads, the boys’ attention was confined to their work of impelling the vehicle, in their charge, and they did not per¬ ceive the lioness. It was thought that the very bright light which the boys were carrying kept the animal at a safe distance.— South Africa. A death notice in an English news¬ paper terminates thus: “At rest with tlie Lord, Friends accept this intima lion,” FRANCIS DRAKE AS A PIRATE AND KNIGHT. How His Golden Hind Caqfured tt Richly Laden Spanish Ship, th» Glory of the Southern Seas. '.'ifit \ Miss Agnes Lant relates in Harper’s llio brilliant adventures of Sir Francis Brake, pirate and knight, who sailed; the South Seas under Queen Eliza¬ beth's patronage to hunt Spanish/ treasure. Following is Miss Laut's ac¬ count of how Drake's ship, the Golden, Hind, pursued a Spaniard,and robbed' her: “At 3 in tlie afternoon of March 1' John Drake, the commander’s brother, shouted out from the mast-top, where he clung, ‘Sail ho!’ and the blood of every Englishman aboard jumped tcT tlie words. At ti in the evening, just off Cape Francisco, they were so close to the Glory of the South Seas they could see that she was compelled to sail slowly owing to the weight of her. cargo. So unaware of danger svas the, captain that he thought Drake some messenger sent by the viceroy, and- in¬ stead of getting arms in readiness and. pressing .sails lie furled his canvas’,* came to anchor and waited! Drake's announcement was a roaring cannon-, ade that blew the mast-poles off the Spanish ship, crippling her like a bird* with wings broken. For tiro rest the seehe was what has been enacted! wherever pirates have played . their game—a furious fusillade from the cannon mouths, belching from decks.; and portholes, the unscathed ship rid¬ ing down on the staggering victim like' a beast on its prey, the clapping of the* grapping hooks that bound the captive, to the sides of her victor, tho rush* over decks, the flash of naked sword,, the decks swimming In blood and the, quick surrender. The booty from tills, treasure ship was roughly estimated' as twenty-six tons of pure silver, thir¬ teen chests of gold plate, eighty pounds! of pure gold, and precious jewels em¬ eralds and pearls—to the value in mod¬ ern money of $720,(XX). The Golden Hind was so heavily freighted with treasure it was actually necessary to lighten ballast by throwing spices e*f silks overboard.” , wvS * What the Teacher Must »o. Knowledge Is good, but wisdom is bet¬ ter. The college valedictorian, trained* to take knowledge in, rather than to impart it, may have had much of it with but little wisdom; he may be able, as a teacher, to drill boys and girls in Greek or Latin declensions, and. era m them with facts, useful or value less; but if he cannot produce in them what Spencer calls "pleasurable ex-) citement” and Interest, he is a failure.' His would be the sort of teaching that harps upon obedience and discipline,, and endeavors by force of rule and rod to oblige the pupil to study and learn.! The will cannot be forced, but the real teacher knows well that it can be led. He remembers the remark of Rous¬ seau that "the teacher’s province is less to instruct than to guide,” that, “he must not lay down precepts, but! 'teach his pupils to discover them.”) This was the way of that great teach¬ er, Agassiz, certainly.—Arthur .Gilman, in the Atlantic. N To Undress Under Water. Should one have the misfortune to fall into the water with one’s clothes on, they form a considerable encum¬ brance—not to say, hi some circum¬ stances, a source of great danger. Hence it is as well to practice un¬ dressing oneself in the water. To take off a coat, tread water and throw off the garment, Boots are disposed of one at n time, lying upon the hack paddling with one hand, and undoing .the buttons or laces with the other. When this is done, push the boot off by pressing with the toes of the other foot upon tlie heel of the boot that is being cast away. Trousers are dis¬ pensed with as follows; Swim on the back, giving short leg strokes, undoing the braces or belt as quickly as possi¬ ble. The trousers may now be slipped! down to the knee. Next, paddle with the hands and shake the feet, which allows the garment to slip off.—Pear¬ son’s Magazine. / Two miles n Minute. The Belgian administration has asked the Congress to appropriate $10, 015,000 for a new railway into Ger-: many via Louvain, St. Trond and Ar genteau. The new line will help to meet the close competition of the Dutch rail¬ ways. Every effort will be put forth to make travel as comfortable ns pos¬ sible and to Increase speed as far as is consistent with safety. It is hoped ■that the speed- will reach 120 miles an hour. There will be no grade cross¬ ings, the grades will be light, and the radius of every curve will be at. least 2000 yards. The projected road will connect Cen¬ tral Germany with Antwerp, the port of entry into Belgium.—Consul Mc¬ Nally, Liege, Belgium, in Consular Uix ports. ; ,it,- • Cooking "Without Fire. In the cooking schools of Berlin, Mu¬ nich, Frankfort and other German cities the use of the "fireless stove,” or “cooking box,” is strongly recom¬ mended. The apparatus consists sim¬ ply of a wooden box, thickly lined with hay or felt, and fitted with a tight cover. Nests are made in the lining, into which pots containing food that h@s first been boiled for a few minutes over a fire are placed, tightly covered, and the box is closed. The lining re¬ tains the heat for hours, and the food is slowly cooked, with better results, in many cases,-than can be attained by rapid cooking on a stove. Of course, the apparatus does not answer for cooking steaks, chops, or cakes which require a quick, hot tire, but it is eg celiuat for soups ami vegetables.
