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tlaile <£ollll lii cu*s. TRENTON, GEORGIA. Holland reclaims an average of eight %cres per day from the sea and |the salt ■water is no sooner crowded out than cab bage is crowded in. It is reported from Cape May that if the Government cannot be induced to build the proposed channel from Cape May to Atlantic City an effort will be made to raise the money by popular sub scriptions at the two resorts during the summer. The people of the Pacific Coast are taking considerable interest in the Mel bourne Exposition, which will be opened in August, though why it should be held in winter is not clear. It is expected that there will be a very creditable ex hibit of California products at the Ex position . Europe now has twenty-two cremato ries, ten of them added within the past year, while no less than 600 bodies have been burned in Germany and 800 in Italy. The United States have seven crematories, with six building. Thus it 6eems, infers the New York Observer, that prejudice against cremation is fast abating. If the Emperor Frederick should get ■well, the Sultan of Turkey will take no small part of the credit to himself, for he has sent the Emperor a collar consist* ing of nine hazel nuts with inscriptions from the Koran, over which the der vishes and sheiks of the palace had prayed, and which, as the Sultan assured the German ruler, would cure him with out doubt. A prison revolt, which was not quelled without much bloodshed, took place re cently at Damanhour, Egypt, about twelve miles from Alexandria. Two prisoners in the jail who were under sentence of death, aided by eighteen other convicts, managed to make their escape from the prison. The police at once started in pursuit, but before they could come up with them the prisoners took refuge in a mosque. Here a des perate fight took place, in which fifteen of the prisoners were killed and two were wounded, while the police had four killed. The Taos Valley of Colorado and New Mexico is about to have a boom. A company will soon irrigate the eutire valley, bays a recent visitor: “The beauties of the valleys of Southern Cali fornia are much extolled by tourists as well as by the inhabitants. Taos, how ever, discounts anything in the Golden State. The climate is much more de lightful, and the enemies to vegetation much fewer. None of the destroyers of fruit which are common to California are found in the Taos region, and I can as sure you that watermelmons picked there two years ago are good and fresh, and fit for the table at the present time.” A correspondent of the Philadeldhia Ledger suggests that the court of the new City Hall in that city should be embellished with statues of eminent Philadelphians, after the manner of the Uffizi at Florence. He suggests, as ap propriate subjects, William Penn, Ben jamin Franklin, Benjamin Rush, Ben jamin West, Bishop White, Stephen Girard, John Fitch, Robert Fulton, Robert Morris, Lindley Murray, Dr. Kane, Charles Brockden Brown, Thomas Buchanan Read, Bayard Taylor, Henry C. Carey, Dr. Gallaudet, Horace Biuney, Vice-President Dallas, Dr. Hayes, John Welsh, and others. Boulanger, the fleeting idol of the rolatile French, is describ'd by the Boston Transcript as “an off-handed, rather open-hearted fellow, who likes to please, delights in rendering services to no matter whom, is charmingly gallant to women of all ages and ranks, has an elegant figure and a handsome face, a winning smile, sits on horseback like a centaur, and took when he was iff the army as much enjoyment out of his fine belongings as a child does out of its Sunday clothes. He was really pictur esque on his black prancing horse, sur rounded by his staff. The rauk and file adored him; for why? he gave them clean beds, lavatories, mess tables and plates, tumblers, knives and forks. For men who had to spend three years at least in the army this was a good deal. Before the time of Le Beau General they fed almost like hogs, each eating out of a tin can, with his fingers or penknife as best he could. The beauty of the thing was that this change cost the taxpayers nothing, it being clipped off contractors and their patrons. Wilson didn't like it; but Boulanger didn’t care. Boulonger didn’t rare either whether influential politicians took, when he was war minis ter, in bad part his refusal to tame col liers on strike by sending a military force to their black country to dragoon them. When the colliers were starving, Boulanger telegraphed to the soldiers to share their victuals with them. I don’t think he did this to win popularity, but merely from a kind impulse.” Philip Fresemus, a New Haven (Conn.) brewer, who died recently worth half a mill ion dollars, in 1852 carried his kegs to his customers on his shoulders. According to an Atlantic City (N. J. j correspondent a company has been formed to operate there “as a pleasure scheme the sea wagon, which was originally in tended for a life-saving apparatus te rescue people from vessels in danger. It will be run out into the ocean every hour with as many as choose to takff passage. ” In as much as Australia is contemplat ing prohibiting Chinese immigration after the plan of the United States, it is interesting to know that there are now in that country 48,000 to 50,000 Chinese, a number which is more than pei cent of the entire population. They are found in many branches of industry. In Melbourne twenty years ago there were only ten Chinese cabinetmakers, and now there are 500. In North Queens land the Chinese work as blacksmiths, shoemakers, watchmakers, tailors, and dairymen. The inventors seem to have been spend ing a great deal of talent on labor-sav ing implements for barrooms of late. The big city drinking saloons,constantly rushed with business, have necessitated the saving of time by machinery in every way possible. Corks are now pulled by machinery, ice is ground in machines that closely resembles coffee mills, lem ons are squeezed in ingenious presses, measures of a fixed size are provided foi gauging the right amount of liquor for a cocktail, automatic printing presses in stantly turn out checks of the denomina tion in demand, special tools have been made to pull the bungs from beer kegs, and it is becoming difficult to see any room left for new inventions. Arbor Day has been observed more generally and more enthusiastically this year, announces the American Agricul turist, than in any former year since the day was established. It is noticeable, both in the East and in the West, that a special effort has been made to interest the children of the public schools, and their teachers and other school authori ties, to engage in the work of tree plant ing. Trees are set out in school grounds and on the neighboring streets and road sides, and so the highways and villages are made more attractive. Parks, lawns and churchyards, cemeteries and avail able fields upon the farm, have been at tended to, and the result is not only millions of trees transplanted, but a very encouraging prospect for the future. America is called the new world, be cause it was latest discovered by civilized man, but geology teaches that some for mations on this continent, in Canada and in the Rocky Mountain range, are prob ably the oldest bits of dry laud this planet knew. Recent California papers speak of discoveries indicating a race of men inhabiting that State contempora neous with the rhinoceros, mastodon and other extinct animals. Many, parts of this continent show indications of a great flood, and no research throws the theory that this may have been that in which Noah and his family were the only survivors. To this same direction points the ancient legend, fully by early writers, of the sinking of agieat islander continent named Atlantis, where ever since have rolled the billows of the Atlantic Ocean. This globe has evi dently been subjected to some strange vicissitudes, and the American Conti nent perhaps offers the best opportunity for studying their nature and history. According to she Epoch, “a Chicago photographer is about to perpetrate a joke on his contemporaries which is worthy of the severest reprehension. He is nearing the completion of a collection of some ten thousand persons who are deemed celebrated by the more or less unanimous testimony of the American public in this day and generation, and is to commit it to a memorial safe which he has arranged to deposit in the City Hall vaults and have opened in 11)76, the second centennial of the United States. He proposes to emphasize this atrocity by putting in with the pictures, brief biographical sketches of their subjects. To appreciate*the hilarity which this is calculated to excite among our posterity, let us suppose that it had been possible to deposit in a place of safety a thousand or two portraits of the men deemed cele brated in 1776. We should, probably, have had most of the familiar names of history, but in what extraordinary com pany! And in these days of newspaper notoriety, think of an assemblage of 10,- 000 ‘celebrated personages’ whose fame is expected to survive some ninety years! If it be good to give posterity a laugh at our expense, the plan has something to commend it, but who would not pray to be delivered from preservation in this photographic cenotaph?” The Hangman's Bric-a-Brac. Hangman Joe Atkinson, New. York’s official executioner, lives on Evergreen avenue, Brooklyn, and his spouse is a person whose aspect gives token that she is fully able to hold her own—and her husband’s as well in an emergency. But what a home it is to rear a child in. In the center of the mantel in the little parlor stands the most conspicuous orna ment in the place. It is a miniature scaffold,complete in all its appointments, and from it swings the body of a man carved in wood. Beneath there waits an undertaker’s wagon, containing a coffin to receive the body. This pretty piece of bric-a brsu; is ever before the family, and, strange as it may appear, conveys to th ru no sense of ghastliness or un propriety. —New York (Star. A. VOICE. The rain makes music at midnight, Dripping from rafter and eaves, Blown hither and thither by mad-cap Wind on the twittering leaves. Its sound has solace for sorrow, Touching the heart-cords o’er So softly, oh, so softly! Sweet as the lutes of yore: But sweetest of all sweet music, Making my heart rejoice, Comes over the dew-damp meadow Tenderly, true—-a voice! —Charles Knowles Bolton, in Century. A PHOTOGRAPH. Hillbourn Pi.ach Feb. 7. Dear Jack: The fur coat is a pronounced Success, i saw you to-day when I was driv ing, and was forcibly* reminded of Solomon in liis glory. Have you forgotten your friends of old in their clothes also of old? One would think so, as it's been ten days since you were here. The rest of the family are going to the Porters’ to-night, but I shall stay at home and console myself with Beethoven, Sydney Lanier, and you, if you'll come, for 1 have something to show you. A woman’s head, painted from a photograph, which I finished only yesterday. It isn't bad. Affectionately, Cara. The Club, Feb. 7, ’B6. Dear Cara: Yours just received. It seems almost unnecessary to tell you how glad I shall be to come. Devotedly, Jack. “It isn’t,” said Cara a few hours later, as she pushes the ottoman to' an easier distance, and turns a beautiful, fire flushed face toward Jack, “it isn’t that this winter has been much worse thau the other two, but t’ve been thinking, and as it's a luxury I don t often allow myself, I have mental dyspepsia as a re sult.” “Mental dyspepsia!” says Jack scorn fully; “it’s the result of sitting out all the square dances with Willoughby in that draughty conservatory of the Mars ton's.” “I refuse to understand.” says Cara, smiling. “You can’t! Your intellect won’t al low you.” “Speaking of intellect,” viciously, “somehow makes me think of your friend, .Miss Marston. How is she?” “I don’t know why it should. She’s well.” “Do you intend to please your father and marry her?” “I don’t know, Cara. If the worst comes to the worst, 1 suppose I shall have to.” “I should think that would be an ex act statement of the case—the worst coming to the worst.” “Don’t be any more severe than you can help,” says Jack, laughing. “You don’t know what it isto be poor.” “I almost wish I did,” Cara answers, “I might then have amounted to some thing as an artist.” “You need hardly wish that, for, as it is, you are the best amateur ” “That’s it,” Cara breaks in impatient ly. “Amateur, amateur, always am ateur 1 I want to be an artist. Of late I have had thoughts of giving my money to found a home for other weak-minded women, and living in Paris on 10 sous a day, and the divine afflatus; only, as Hawthorne says: ‘The great obstacle to being heroic is the doubt whether one may not be going to prove oneself a fool.’ ” “One doesn’t like to be too precipitate after a remark of that kind,” says Jack, meditatively, after a little pause, during which Cara has risen and seated herself at the piano, where she is lazily striking minor chords. “Is that what has kept you from being too precipitate? Jack, what makes you bo lazy?” “Lack of incentMp. Don’t scorn.” “I wish I could * .ake you feel your possibilities for yourself as I feel them for you.” asked you to try once and you re fused.” Jack laughs when he says it, but try as he will his voice falters as he speaks. Cara blushes, and then says: ‘Hf we hadn’t outlived a great deal of the non sense of our lives, we could not be the thoroughly good friends we are now. Come and let me introduce you to a wo man who I think is worth a man’s love. She’s over in the library. I remember your dislike to climbing and had her brought down. Jack offers her his arm and together they walk the whole length of the draw ing room, across the hall to the library, the greater part of which is in shadow, the one bright light being directly over the picture. Only a picture of a woman's head and the curve to the shoulders; ruddy chest nut hair that curls mistily around a face in which sweetness and firmness are strangely intermingled: great irised gray eyes—eyes with all the poetry and pas sion of Cabanel’s Venus; a clear, almost delicately colorless skin, save for a warmth in mouth and cheek; and, yet, with all the yielding beauty of woman hood, there is an intellectual vigor and strength in the face which one seldom sees save in the faces of men who have “suffered and been strong.” “It is by far the best thing you have ever done,” says Jack, after a few min utes of admiring silence. “Hay I see the photograph?” “It’s behind the Mona Lisa; not a very good one, but the best I could get.” “I should say it wasn’t a very good one. It must have been done by some amateur photographer, judging from the finish. But, Cat a, how much the eyes here are like your own!” “They tell me so. Ah! Jack. I re gret to see that you are regarding her more as a woman than as au artistic pro duction.” “I’m afraid I am. Do you know her well? Why have I never seen her;” “Now,” says Cara, “you have made me jealous and, like a wise woman, I refuse to talk of my rival. On Thursday night the five members of our art class are coming with Herr Blum to my box to hear Bernhardt. We will come to a little supper; you will sing us some Schubert; Eugenie will play us the Apassionata; you will meet your ideal; we will persuade ourselves that ‘every loss has a gain to match,’ and for get ” “how miserable we shall all be the next morniug. ’ Jack finished for her. “Pessimist!” says Cara, smiling; “will you come?” “Do I ever refuse an invitation from you?” as he rises preparatory to taking his leave. “Then it is settled. If you care to you may take the photograph with you.” “Thank you,” he says, slipping it into the pocket of his great coat. “Now I am going back to the bread and butter part of existence. There’s something almost dreary in the per sistency with which one and one are two, isn’t there?” “There have been cases”—what a coquette the girl is!—“there have been cases where one and one made one.” He has taken her hand to say good night, as she speaks, and a passionate light comes into his eyes at her words. “Ah, Cara, ” he says impulsively, “if I only thought ” “Don’t think,” she answers, “consult the proper mathematical authorities.” Du Thursday night Jack, having made a very careful toilet and mislaid everything with a cheerful sense of the entire responsibility of Betty, the chambermaid, takes a last look at the photograph which occupies the place of honor over his dressing case, before set ting out to meet the original. “Some thing will probably have happened to keep her at home—or—something. There's always a hitch somewhere,” he soliloquizes as he leaves the house. It is the middle of the first act when he reaches the box. Cara smiles as he enters. The rest of the party are com pletely absorbed, but he can see that she is there. Her back is toward him, but surely ouly one woman could have hair like that, and wear black lace the way she does. Jack suddenly remembers ’ ; s ideal costume for a woman has always been made of black lace. And Cara? Well, Cara is a very beau tiful woman, but then she could never give much love to anyone, and what emotional gymastics she would require of the man to whom she was married. As the curtain falls the orchestra be gis “Weber’s Last,” and Cara motions him toward her. “Eugenie,” she says, I leaning forward, “Eugenie, let me pre ; sent my friend—” Jack doesn’t hear the rest, for the lady turns and he sees a fascinatingly ugly woman with a de lightful directness of gaze, who acknowl | edges the introduction in the middle of a remark which she is making to Lieu tenant Willoughby. Jack glances ap- I pealingly at Cara, who is rather suspi j ciously engaged in a leisurely survey of the house through her glasses. “There’s Mrs. Dunbar,” says Cara’s | aunt, leaning forward for abetter view. “She has succeeded in engaging her daughter in the army.” “Did I hear you say,” laughs Cara, i “that her dearest wish is accom ! plished?” “No,” says Mrs. Lorrimer. “One doesn’t say those things, my dear.” “Let us consider, then,” says Cara, de murely. “that no one has spoken. ” “I have been having something of that sensation all the evening,” says the lieu ■ tenant. “Bernhardt’s French must be provincial; I can’t understand her.” There is a little laugh, in the midst of which Jack pauses abruptly; for in Mademoiselle LeCroix’s face, as she smiles, he suddenly sees, almost ghost like, an expression of the protograph. It is gone before he can be certain, and she has turned from him to Mrs. Lorrimer, who is saying plaintively: “i wish Bern hardt would play in English.’’ “If some one would suggest it to her,” says Jack, “she would probably sit up late one night and learn the lan guage.” “Did I ever tell you,” said Eugenie, turning so that Jack again has a full view of her face, “of an experience I had when I was first learning your Eng lish? No? I was just at the point where I found for myself that you wrote one language and spoke another, when one evening I had the good fortune to meet General Law-on. You know his reputation as a conversationalist, and I wished to convey to him an idea of the pleasure which I felt at meeting him, so I said impressively in broken English: ‘I am glad to meet you, General, as I am making a special study of American idiots.’” His composure was superb. He never faltered for a moment. His face had all the calm of one eternal Sab bath, as he answered, suavely: “This is the only time in life, mademoiselle, when I feel that I can fully justify a pre judged opinion.” Jack w r atches her w 7 hile she speaks, and again sees the subtle something that reminds him of the picture. A curve to the cheek, an expression in the eye, an indefinite something surely suggests it to him, and yet, as Cara sat listening with a half smile on her lips, she might her self have been the theme of w 7 hich the painting was the finished harmony. . “If this thing keeps up,” said Jack, “my mind will be a mosaic. I shall speak to Cara about it when I get an opportunity.” But he doesn’t get an op portunity, for just then Cara announces: “Ah! there i 3 Helen, now, Eugenie, and our cousin is with her.” He takes a long breath and feels him self a sane man again. Here, at last, is a solution of the problem. A mutual cousin i; the original: nothing more likely. He returns Cara's glance in a manner which intimates that he under stands the situation at last, aud awaits with interest the entrance of the tw r o ladies. There is a little rustle just out side the box; a man’s voice heard in a tone of remonstrance: a woman’s low and self-contained, and the lad£ herself stands at the door of the box. A woman in the prime of life, with that repose of manner which comes after one has found that things are neither white nor black, but only neutral tint, and has ceased expect ing much—one whose social angles have been rounded into curves, and who is seldom found holding those unsatisfac tory opinions which we denominate “op posite.” “Mrs. Carter,” says Cara. “Delighted,” murmurs -Jack. “Helen will be here in a few minute®. She stopped at the Marstons’ box to set tle about some engagement with them. Dick will bring her over here.” Stie seems to have a great many en gagements with them of late,” says Mis 3 Le Croix. “Only one—with Dick—l think,” laughs Mrs. Carter. “Bless their inno cent hearts, these children! They think I don't see.” “You have missed the best act of the play on account of that ‘At Home’,” says Cara. “I know it,” the lady responds. “I am a martyr to my friends: but Herr Blum said something almost witty, and that consoled me. He says,” she con tinues, turning to Jack, “that Bern hardt’s full face looks like a profile.” “It was Heine who said it first,” sayf Herr Blum. “He always attributes everything he says to some one else. It relieves him of so much responsibility,” Mrs. Carter ex plains amiably to Jack. And, as she does so. with a smiling, strong, restful face, Jack grasps nervously at the chair on which he sits, as if to steady himself, for incongruous and inexplicable as it may seem, she also reminds him of that picture. Not in the lines of the face, certainly, but rather in its entirety, its strength, its repose “Well, the worst has come,” thinks he, rising with determination. “While the last faint spark of intelligence re mains I will make my way home. If I don’t go soon I shall have to betaken?” “You are not going,” says Cara. “Not before Helen comes, anyhow. See! She is here now.” Jack takes one look at the girl who enters, and turning to Cara, says: “My dear girl, 1 am losing either my brains or my eyesight.” “It must be your eyesight,” laughs Cara. “Oh!” savs Jack, desperately; “you don't understand. I see resemblances to that pictured face in sections everywhere. In you, in Miss Le Croix, in this* Helen, ana just now I notice that even Herr Blum looks a little like it.” “You have the photograph on your brain,” answers Cara, so that Eugenie hears. “.-speaking of photographs,’’says she, “makes me think of a new theory of Herr Blum. He thinks if we could get a composite photograph of people’s brains, as we can of the r faces, it would be an easy way of getting the average in telligence.” “A composite photograph!” Jack caught at the phrase with frantic hope. “A composite photograph is ?” “A composite photograph,” echoes the Professor, settling himself to be in structive, “is obtained by exposing dif ferent photographs of the same size, for the same time, on the same sensitized plate. These ladies were taken in this way recently, and it made a beautiful face. “How could it do other ?” he ad ded, simply enough. “Apropos of your explanation, Pro fessor,” said Jack, “I have a story to tell of a friend of mine, who was the victim of an unparalled joke.” "Mrs. ,” says Cara rising, “is beckoning to me, and I think I shall go and speak to her for a moment, if you’ll excuse me. Will you come lieutenant?” “You had better stay'and defend your self,” says .Jack, “for I’m going to tell.” “I shall need no defence here, I am sure,” she says, laughing softly. “Au revoir!” Three weeks after, as Jack and Cara stand before the newly framed picture, I he says: “It was rather shabby of you j to do it, but I forgive you, and am just j as much iu love with it as ever.” “That’s discouraging,” says Cara, j “You can’t marry them all.” “Unfortunately, no. Utah is remote, i I might do it in turn. Who sat first:” “1 refuse to tell you,” says Cara; but she colors slightly as; she speaks. “Your eyes have told me already,” he answers, and there, for a minute, they regard each other steadily. She has so much and he so little. She has refused I him once before, and yet—of late, he has almost dared to hope— “Do you think, Cara—that you ever i could love ” His eyes finished the sen i tence for him, and he reaches his hands I toward her with infinite longing. “I think,” she says, smiling a little, I as she lays her hands in his, “that ! I might—if I xvere sufficiently urged.” And then, with one of those passionate j veerings that he knows so well. “I think I have always loved you, Jack.” Ten days later she receives a note, ! over which she smiles, as it has been but I a few hours since he left her: To Mrs. Jack Hannaford (that will be): When did you say that you would form that composite which will make you Madam Me. I want to see a statement of the fact in your own writing. Yours, Jack, To which she answers; You spoke of next month when you were here. Let it be the 12th. With all mv love and sympatdy for the terrible future before you. Lovingly, Cara. j Washington Star. ; WISE WORDS. Theffc fs no worse thief than a loaT book. We want not time, but diligence, for great performances. A man may be young in years, but old in hours if he improves them. The best things in life cannot be bor rowed, they must be all our own. 11l fortune never crushed that man whom good fortune deceived not. A brain might as well be stuffed with sawdust as with unused knowledge. It is not what we knorv that makes education, it is the use we make of it. Age does not depend upon years, but upon what experience has taught us. He who has less then he desires should know 7 that he has more than he deserves. Act well at the moment, and you have performed a good action to all eternity. Those who would thoroughly know themselves have a life w 7 ork before them. It is better to be doubtful than to de pend wholly upon the wisdom of others. You are as great and grand as any body else, if you have a great and grand soul. Who would have time to study theories, if existing facts were first di gested ? Knowledge is like money; the more it is circulated the more people get the benefit of it. Service is the end of gran. Service is the necessity of man. Service is the glory of man. The more heated the discussion be tween friends, the cooler their subse quent relations. If we hope for things of which ws have not thoroughly considered the value, our disappointment will be greater than our pleasures in the fruition of them, A I’oet of Taste. I never had a sw'eet gazelle To glad me with its soft black eye— But I would love it p issing well. Baked in a rich and crusty pie. If I could have a bird to love And nestle sweetly in my breast, All other nestling birds above; T.V.: turkey—stuffed—would be that bird. —Philadelphia News. HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS. A New Soup. Take eight large potatoes and thres onions; cut them in small pieces and boil them in a.pint of water until soft.- Pass them through a fine colander. Have ready two quarts of skimmed milk; b**tl it; add a very little powdered mace and one piece of loaf sugar, a pinch of cayenne and the puree of potatoes. When all boils together, thicken the soup with two tablespoon fills of potato flour or ordinary flour. Before pouring tlie soup into the tureen, place in the latter a tablespoonful of butter. Fry some crutons in good beef dripping and serve them with the soup, but on a sep arate dish.— T‘‘ulu. A Simp’e Sideboard. A simple and inexpensive sideboard,, which does good duty and is very ap propriate iu the modestly furnished house, is made of a plaiu deal table about two-thirds the width of the ordinary kitchen table, with a shelf fitted below. Stain this to imitate old oak with a mix ture of raw Sienna, burnt Sienna and Vandyke brown thinned to the proper consistency with sizing. Hang some plain shelves above, either stained or covered with felt cloth, to hold orna mental pieces of china and glass. Lay upon the top of the table a scarf of butcher’s linen, with knotted fringe, and further ornamented with drawn work dr outline designs in washable silks, and then will be had a sideboard of which no one need be ashamed.— Prairie Farmer. Unique Use for Broomsticks. Broomsticks are not such useless arti cles after all. Aside from the proverbial use as a woman’s weapon, the broom stick can serve as an ornament. Three of these with a ho e bored half way be tween the ends and Led together, and when left to fall into tent-shape form the legs of a very unique little table. A square, or circular, or indeed any shaped piece of board makes a top. Now cover this top with plush or velvet. Crazy silk patch work used to be seen, but this, like its friends, the bedquilts, are being discarded. The broomsticks are pretty, gilded. Tie the legs with broad ribbon and place on the bow a bunch of grasses or flowers. Broomsticks ar ranged in this tent-like shape can be used for a gypsy kettle or most any kind of hanging basket. Commercial Advertiser. A Delicious Sandwich. A very delicious sa idwich, for which we are indebted to the French, is made of puff-paste. After it is fully rolled and folded, roll it out one-fourth inch in thickness, and fold it evenly like a sheet of paper. Then roll this out to an eighth of an inch in thickness, and about twelve inches in width. This sheet of paste must be arranged in size to form a roll—when rolled up—of two inches and a half in diameter. Wet the edge so that it may not unfoid again, then press it fiat until it is reduced to three-fourths of an inch in thickness; then with a sharp knife cut it off in slices one-fourth of an inch in thickness; lay these in the pan cut part down, for they need room and will per haps spread. After they are baked dust them well with powdered sugur and re turn to the oven, which must be very hot in order to melt the sugar, which gives a fine glaze. A salamander will glaze them quicker than the heat of the oven, or you may wash them over with the white of an egg dusted with sugar. When finished spread raspberry jam on them and fasten two together. These are very delicious, aud form a tempting looking dish. —New York Post. Recipes. Jam Sauce.— A texcupful of water to half a pot of jam; stir it and melt it on the fire; then strain it and pour it around your pudding. Chocolate Pudding.— Melt one half pound of butter and stir into it one pound of flour, one-quarter pound sugafi, one pint of milk and the yolks of three eggs. This pudding can either be steamed or baked. Lyonaise Pototoes. —Cut one pint cold boiled potatoes into small pieces and season them with pepper and salt; add one teaspoonful chopped parsley; put a teaspoouful butter on the fire in a saucepan: when hot add a slice of onion; fry brown; add potatoes, and fry to a light brown. Puree oi' Pea«. —Wash a quart of peas which have been already* hulled, put them in a saucepan with three pints of water, very little salt and pepper, half an ounce of ham and an onion cut in slices. Boil until soft, then drain off the water and rul) the peas through a colander. Heat again on the fire, add ing two heaping tablespoonfuls of butter and a pinch of sugar. Serve very hot. Slaw Dressing.— Heat together to a boiling point in a stewpan, a gill of vinegar and an ounce of butter. Stir in an egg well beaten and a gill of sweet cream. Season to taste aud pour over finely-chopped cabbage. Another way is to mix together a gill of water and a gill of vinegar; thicken with half an ounce of flour. Cook two minutes, add an ounce of butter and season to taste. Stewed Rhuraril — Wash, peel and cut into two-inch pieces, then into strips, one pound of rhubarb. Put into a porcelain-lined saucepan, add three quarters of a pound of granulated sugar, cover, and boil fifteen minutes. Lift the saucepan from the range and twist it back and forth to prevent the rhubarb burning or sticking to the bottom. Turn it into au earthen dish or bowl in stead of metal ware. Florida’s Great Salt Water Fish. The tarpon, the great salt water fish caught in Florida, is making its ap pearance in the taxidermist stores in this city. Some of them are more than four feet long, and weigh from 100 to 200 pounds. They are distinctly of the salmon family, and, although caught with hook and reel, efien busy a fisher man for two hours before they are landed. During the battle they are likely to carry his boat like mad through the water. They are such pretty conquests to the fisheimen that few of them mind paying forty or fifty dollars to have the body of their biggest fish stuffed, varni-hed, and mounted on a great panel of plush for exhibition in their dining rooms —New York Sun. A woman in New York died recently from the effects of swallowing four false teeth on a rubber plate.