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Bade IM| Ties.
I “ ' TRENTON, GEORGIA.
During the last year Canada’s public
debt is said, to have increased $11,000,-
000, making the grand total not far from
$284,513,841.
All the ways of New York city are
magnificent." Her net d’Cb f is more than
$01,000,000, and her government costs
her $40,000,000 a yean
A chair of painting and wood carving
has been established in I'e Pauw Uni
versity, Greeneastle, Ind., and Miss
Louise Fisher, of Cincinnati, has been
appointed to it.
In the year 1887 we received from Eu
rope $32,000,000 more gold than we ex
ported. In the year 1888 we exported
nearly $30,000,000 more than we re
ceived. But we have a good deal of the
yellow metal left.
The Houston Pott says that South
Texas is destined to become the great
stock breeding center for the Panhandle
country. The fact is, South Texas is
attracting more attention now than any
other section of the State.
Sloyd is the new word which looks
like slang, but is not. Sloydites, accord
ing to the Toronto (Canada) Globe, are
persons interested in introducing manual
training into the public schools. Don’t
tie discouraged by the Dame.
F. C. Wines, in a recent number of the
International Record of Charities andCor
nc‘io7i, says that in 1850 the ratio of
prisoners to population was 290 to the
million. Ten years afterward it was 607,
i decade later, 853, and eight years ago
1109 to the million.
The North invested last year in South
ern industries $168,000,000. Nearly
$30,000,000 of this was invested in Ala
bama, which leads in mining and manu
facturing enterprises in that section.
Kentucky got $28,000,000, Texas $lB,-
000,000 and Georgia $14,000,000. The
least amount invested was $2,000,000,
which went to Mississippi.
The Pennsylvania Railroad Company
has to make out 40, OQO checks for every
payday. To do this work a force of
clerks is kept busy throughout the year.
Recently the employes of the company
requested to be paid every two weeks in
stead of every month as is now done,
but the company found that in order to
accede to the request the force of clerks
would have to be doubled.
The Northwestern Lumberman says that
the lumber industry is in danger of
business troubles from over-production.
The competition between the yellow
pine of the Northwest is increasing, and
while the former will, iu the opinion of
the Lumberman , undersell the latter
right along, a 3 it has done in the past,
yet there is," it says, not enough demand
to keep yellow pine stock from accu
mulating.
India is so far away that its vastness
is scarcely appreciable from America.
Its development in wealth is marked
by the erection of the most costly rail
way station in the world, which has been
erected at Bombay at a cost of $18,800,-
000. The structure was ten years in
process of construction. The building
is in Venetian Gothic style, with Oriental
ornamentation, and returning travelers
speak of it as gorgeously magnificent.
The experts who were to have exam
ined the brain of the dead elephant
Chief, now in the possession of the
University of Lennsylvania, at Phildel
phia, have decided that the organ is too
soft to give satisfactory results. The
examination was to have been made, as
been stated, to determine, if possi
ble, the nature of the disease “must,”
r which is prevalent among the elephants
of India, ana which is supposed to be
identical with human insanity.
Within late years the demnnd for
hemp has increased enormously, owing,
states the Times-Democrat, to its use by
farmers for binding grain by machine.
Some idea of the increased use of hemp
twine for this purpose may be found
when it is shown that the total amount
of 'manufactured into binding
yarns in 1880 was only 100 tons, while
in 1888 the consumption w T as 42,000
tons. What is known as the “Hope
Trust” have advanced the price since
last August of Manilla and Sisal hemp
from four to five cents a pound.
The necessity of a compulsojy school
law is beginning to be felt in Indiana,
and Mr. La Follette, State Superin
tendent of Schools, in his annual report
to the Governor recommends the enact
ment of such a law. Indiana has in
round numbers $15,000,000 invested in
school property, and expends $5,000,000
annually in keeping up the schools; but
the average daily attendance is not over
twenty-five per cent, of the enumeration
snd fifty per cent, of the enrollment,
while the enrollment i 3 not over fifty
per cent, of the enumeration.
HER SMILE HIS SUNLIGHT.
Sweetheart, when rhymes I make
For your dea r sake,
You bring
Into your face a smile
To cheer me while , ..
I sing.
Like to that bird am I,
Which, when the sky
At night
A deeper azure grows,
No longer knows
Delight;
Or like of flowers that one
Which loves the sun
, ■ And gives
The beauty of its bloom
To'him for whom
It lives.
Pleasure nor joy tv <
Hava I unless
Your' face
Over my paper shines
And lights the lines
With grace.
. For me your smile is day—
-1 he golden ray
Tliat climbs
Imagination's wall
And sweetens all
t My rhymes.'
For you tho bird’s song, this—
The flowerls fresh kiss
And breath;
Nor may their nightfall come
Till both are dumb
In death!
—Frank I). Sherman, in the Century.
HIS SISTER.
BY MAIIY A. DENISON.
“Robert, I found the barn unfastened
again to-night, aud the rails in the cor
ner pasture down. I declare, you de
serve to be flogged for your careless
ness 1”
“You won’t flog me, sir!” said the
boy, in a low voice. His face flushed
hotly. He had been reading, his hands
on either side of his chin; now he pushed
his book away, and sat looking doggedly
before him.
“Mercy on me!” murmured Grand
mother Macy, who sat near the table
knitting. “I do wish Jabez wouldn’t
speak that way!”
Aunt Mary, a visitor from the West,
pushed her chair with an impatient
movement further frem the lire, frown
ing a little; but Bertha, Farmer Macy’s
only daughter, a girl of sixteen, looked
from her lather to Robert, her cheeks
scarlet, her eyes full of tears.
“I didn’t say I would flog you!” said
the farmer, harshly. “I said you de
served to be flogged for your careless
ness, and so you do. Ever since that
money was left to you, you’ve seemed to
want to go your own way.”
“I will go my own way, too !” mut
tered the boy between his teeth. Bertha's
quick ear caught the words, and she ven
tured to speak.
“Father, Robert didn't lock the bam,
because John told him not to, till he
came home.”
“Oh, John told him not to, did he?
How long since .John took it upon him
self to issue his orders? I thick I am
the one to be obeyed on these premises,”
was the quick rejoinder, ana then the
girl was silenced. “I suppose John told
him not to put up the rails, also?” the
farmer added, as if unwilling to end the
controversy.
“John said nothing to me about that;
I simply forgot it,” said Robert, sullenly.
“Of course you forgot it! You’re al
ways forgetting. If rubber could be tied
on to your memory to stretch it a little,
it would be better for you. I don’t for
get; if I did, I wonder where you would
be ?”
Aunt Mary looked at her brother over
her spectacles. Her usually mild face
quivered with excitement.
“Brother.” she said, in a tone of dis
may.
“Of course you’d take sides against
me 1 The boy has always been excused.
His mother made a fool of him. and his
sister ditto, By and by I shan’t be al
lowed to speak in my own house.”
Robeit threw down the book which he
had taken up again with an angry ges
ture, and stalked out of the room. He
was a tall, good-looking boy of eighteen,
large of his age, and clumsy in his move
ments. The farmer made as if he would
call him back, but settled himself in his
chair again, and frowned.
“The fact is, since his uncle left him
that five thousand dollars,” said Farmer
Macy, “the boy hasn’t Le-n worth his
salt to me!”
“O father, you—” -
“Silence!” said the old man, testily.
“I tell you he is doing nothing but long
ing for the time when he is twenty one,
and can put his hands on that money.
Castle-building and reading, that’s what
he gives his time to, and me slaving like
a dog!”
“It’s a great pity.” said Aunt Mary,
and she spoke in her slow, sweet way. so
that one could hardly imagine there was
the least touch of sarcasm in what she
said, “that George didn’t leave the
money to you!”
“Eh, you think so, do you ;” said the
farmer, his heavy features lighting up.
“Look what I could ba’ done with five
thousand dollars—and the place needing
improvement so much! Yes, even one
thousand would set me up! And to
think of all that money lying idle, for
Robert 1o come into, and spend as he
pleases. He’ll go off as soon as he gets
it.”
“TlJit depends upon how you treat
him, my son,” said Grandma Macy,
looking up and resting her needles.
“Treat him 1” and the farmer leaned
forward, glaring at them all. “Don’t I
give him a roof and clothes and food?
Would you have me knuckle to the boy.
to my own son, because he is coming in
to possession of a little paltry money?
A pretty father I should be!”
Grandma Macy’s needles clicked on,
and Aunt Mary looked thoughtfully at
the fire. The old-fashioned dock that
had ticked in its ancient corner for over
seventy years struck nine.
Bertha had slipped out of the room,
gone through the kitchen, and up the
back stairs. The wind was rising, and
the rain, which had just begun to fall,
drove heavily against the window panes
ob the upper landing. The girl moved
swiftly down the narrow passage in the
dark, tqward a door at the further end,
through the keyhole of which came a
faint light. Here she stopped, and tried
the latch of the door. It did not let
her in.
“Robert!” she called. “Robert!”
“What is it, Bertha? I can’t come
down again, and —l’d rather be alone.”
“But I want to speak to you. Oh,
Robert, won’t you let me in?”
“It’s no use; I won’t come down.”
“No, you needn’t; nobody has sent
for you. I—l just wanted to see you!”
“Well, here I am,” and the door
opened suddenly, so that the girl who
was leaning against it almost fell into
the room, t-he recovered herself, how
ever, and stood there looking at her
brother with pitiful eyes.
“1 wish I knew what to do,” she
said, and ended with a long-drawn
sigh.
“I know what to do!" was the boy’s
rejoined, and he set his mouth sternly,
so that there was in his face a curious
resemblance to the old man downstairs.
“You won’t do anything wrong,
Robert, I know you won’t!” she said,
claspiug her hands. “I’m sure father
means to do everything for the best. Try
not to mind!”
“I do try, I hav&tried, but it’s no use.
Think I can’t see? ' Father is mad be
cause that money is coming to me, in- i
stead of him. I vjish Uncle George had
never left it to the; I could have got
along without it. It only makes me
wretched all the time, the way father
treats me. and I’m tired of it.”
“But, dear Robert, every one sees—l
mean,” she added, checking herself—
“you have grandma and mo, who love
you dearly! Don’t that make up to you
for these little crosses? Father, though j
he is so rough, loves you very dearly; he
is proud of you, but something has made
him irritable of late, and ”
“Yes, ever since Uncle George died
and left me that money,” said Robert.
“And you know he has been making
improvements on the farm. Perhaps he
has got into debt.”
“Well, that’s not my fault,” said Rob
ert. “I believe in my soul you wish that
money had gone to him or you.”
“O Robert!”
“Forgive me, Bertha! I know how
girls feel about such things/and it’s
only natural that you should want to
help father; but I tell you candidly, if I
had the money to-morrow, I wouldn’t
lay out a cent on this miserable old place.
I hate it, and I’m tired of being treated
like achid of five years old! All my
faults and errors talked over, no matter
who is by 1 I’m not going to stand it
any longer. If he can’t be reasonable,
he must get some one besides >ne to vent
his spite on.”
“O Robert, what are saying?”
“Just what I mean. I won’t stand it! j
It's bad enough to be cooped up in this
old country place, and then to be tyran
nized over from morning till night 1
What good does it do? I can’t touch
the money till I’m of age, even if I felt
like giving it all to him.”
“If you only won’t mind it, dear, I’ll
do everything I can to make you happy.”
“Y'ou’re awfully kind, Bertha, and
you do all you can now, but don’t you
sUnpose I see how uncomfortable he
makesyou all feel on my account? Come,
yoq’re shivering with the cold. Take
my candle and go to bed; I’ve got
another, and we’ll talk it all over some
other time.”
Reluctantly waiting
only tA kiss her brother good-night.
When ate peached her room she blew out
the folded a wrapper about her,
and sat «ji the little splint rocker,
to thinkSEjS jr
She
father’s but what could she
do? She no mother to go to, and
her grandmother was too loyal to her son
to blame him in words. She could not
talk to her father; he would have turned
upon her as he had before, with the bit
ter taunt that she encouraged her
brother in his idleness, and excused all
his short-comings.
The clock struck eleven and found
her still sitting up, trying to solve this
problem, how to keep her brother from
| any rash act that he would regret in after
I life. Straining her ears to listen, she
I thought she heard the creaking of a
door.
It jained hard now. She could see the
tops of the tree 3 moving in the wind,
dark as it was.
A sudden terror sci ed her. That cer
tainly was not the rain nor the wind, but
the familiar clank of the heavy chain
against the front door. She ran to her
brother’s room, her heart beating heavily,
called him,but no answer came. Groping
her way to the bed, she felt over it.
Robert was not there —the bed had not
been touched.
She could have screamed for terror, but
she had learned, long before this, to
master her impulses, and she crept
downstairs, to find the front door un
fastened. Unheeding rain and wind,
she ran out in the darkness to the gate,
which was also unfastened. Watch, the
dog, was gone—he must have followed
his young master.
As loudly as she dared, she called her
brother’s name, and then, sure that he
was by this time out of hearing, she ran
back to the house, found a shawl in the
hall-closet, and left the house, shutting
the door behind her, softly.
The next train was due at half-past
eleven o’clock.
Robert must be waiting at the little
station in the woods, half a mile away.
The rain beat heavily, the wind blew so
fiercely that she caught her breath with
difficulty. The path was hard to keep.
Occasionally she staggered in among the
thick bushes on either side the narrow
foot-way, and once something bounded
across the road, but before she could
give way to fright, she felt the cold nose
of Watch against her hand.
GO Watch, where is Robert? Carry
me to him!” she cried, somewhat re
assured now that she had a protector.
Presently she stumbled against the plat
form of the little station, that rose like
a huge, black shadow before her.
“Robert! Robert! It is I, Bertha;
are you here? O Robert, don’t leave
me!”
“Are you crazy, Bertha? and such a
thing as this'. You will get your death—
how dared you ccme through these
woods?”
“I came after you. Robert, you must
go back —you must! It's awfully selfish
in you to run off, and father will be
broken-hearted if you do. Can’t you
bear as much as I can? and I only a
girl! See, lam wet through and through,
and cold and frightened, but I won’t
mind it if you’ll only come home. It
you go, I’ll stay out in the storm all
ni'dit. How can I go back and tell them
you stole out of the house like a thief
at midnight? If you must go, Robert,
I go in the face of the day and of every
body. It would kill me to bear people
say you bad run away. O Robert, think,
it will be disgrace for all of us —shame,
misery and disgrace.”
j “I tell you I can’t bear it!” he said,
aud stamped on the loose boards of the
■ platform. “I might as well go now as
any time.”
“No, not now, for. my sake —wait at
least till—till I talk to father. What
would mother say, Robert? If she sees
us now”—she broke down utterly, sob
bing utterly as if her heart would break
“Come on—l’ll go back,” said Robert,
sullenly. “Here, Watch.” the dog
came bounding to his side. “Stop cry
ing, Bertha —poor little thing, how yon
! shiver! There! there!” he said, soften
ing, as he put his arm about her, “we’ll
j go on the run, to keep you from getting
cold—but, mind, I don’t promise to stay
i —only I won’t go this time.”
It was a week after Robert’s attempt
to leave home, and Bertha was very sick.
The fright and exposure of that terrible
night had brought on a fever.
“I can’t think how the child took such
a cold,” sa d Aunt Mary, as she came
into the living-room one morning.
“From the day she had that mierable
chill she has been growing steadily
worse. I’m worried about her, and so is
the doctor. The poor child in her de
lirium imagines Robert is going away.’
Grandma Macy let her knitting fall to
her lap, folded her hands and locked
sorrowfully into the fire.
“It’s two years this month since hei
mother died," she said, softly. “Where’s
. Robert?”
“Upstairs, with her—you can hardly
get him out of the room. The boy is
very fond of her. It is for her sake, I
fancy, that he didn’t leave home months
ago.” Aunt Mary -little knew how
nearly she had hit the truth.
Day after day dragged on and the
fever did its work. Robert hardly gave
himself time to eat, so anxious was he to
be by his sister’s bedside. He grew hag
gard, watching night and day—re
proaching himself constantly.
“You’ll stay now,won’t you, Robert:”
she said, feebly, one day. “Y’ou won’t
leave the old home—you won’t leave
father alone? Father will be different
when I—am gone.”
“When you are gone—O Bertha ”
said the boy, brokenfy. “Do as I did,
when you begged me down there in the
old depot, stay for my sake.”
“If I could, dear—but it isn’t as 1
say—and—l want you to promise me
never to leave poor father—and when
the money comes -help him all you
can—will you?”
“I’ll do everything you ask me,”
sobbed the boy. ‘‘l’ll give him all the
the money. I don’t want it-rwithout
you.”
“Don’t you think,” said Grandma
Macy, very softly, to Aunt Mary, one
day, “that there/s a great change come
over Jabez? He hasn’t spoken a cross
word to Robert since our little girl came
downstairs. And the boy seems like
another person,—as willing and chipper
about his work as can be.”
And Robert was saying to Bertha,
who sat, white as a lily, in her little
splint rocker, by the windo_w:
“I don’t care how hard I work now,
and i’vc tcld father he small have
enough of my money to make all the im
provements he wants to. I shall never
make a farmer, he sees that now, but I’ll
find something more to my liking. ]
have been idle and careless, and prob
ably the money did have something td
do with it, but I’ve changed all that. 1
made up my mind to it when I thought
we were going to lose you. O Bertha,
if you had died I should never have-for
given myself!”— Youth's Companion.
Street Car Conductors Big Walkers.
A conductor on the Broadway line, in
New York, estimates that, iu collecting
fares aud in helping passengers on and
off the car, lie walks at least two miles a
day. He goes into detail as follows.“A
cir is about fifteen feet long. When I
walk from the rear platform through the
car, turn and come back, I go over thir
ty five feet, count ng the turn. I have
watched myself often on trips and find
that on an average I go as far as the
center of the car and back, about twenty
feet, fifty times on the round trip. There
you have 1 OyO feet a trip, aud eight trips
a day make 80<H) feet. Every time any
one gets.on or off a car we help them on,
takeastep forward and backward. When
a woman gets on we frequently follow
her part way through the door, so you
see we easily walk two miles a day while
on duty. It is the most tiiesome kind
of walking, too, a. sort of a cramped
shuffle half the time. Conductors ar«
hard on shoes for this reason.”
Iteady-Mado Clothing Secrets.
“These are our patterns for next win
ter,” said-the head cutter in a leading
wholesale clothing establishment, as he
paused in his worn, laid down his heavy
shears, and leaned on the long board
table. In front of him was a pile of coat
and vest patterns cut from heavy paper,
and his visitor had asked if they wert
lor summer clothing. “No,” he con
tinued, “the men here are just about
finishing the making up of our summer
stock and it is about all on the counters.
Iu the spring we begin to make our
winter goods, and I have got to get out
these patterns a 3 I have the time. Our
traveling men are all out now with theii
summer samples, and it will be rathei
dull with me until we start in on winter
clothing ai;ain. Go over there and take
a look at our cutting machines. With
them we slice out twenty coats at once.
If you’ve got time to wait a moment I’ll
make you a vest.”— Chicago Herald.
Mystery of the Burning of Water.
This burning of water is a curious
thing. When I went to England many
years ago, a perfect novice in matters re
lath g to combustion of fuel, and saw
the firemen and engineers pouring
bucketfuls of water on tneir coal heaps
just before shoveling the coals on to their
fires, I at once told them that they were
doing a very foolish thing, for it took a
lot of heat to drive off the water before
the coal would burn. But when they
told me that it was a matter that did not
admit of an argument, as they had
proved that they got much hotter fires
when they wet their coal than when they
put it on dry, I was completely non
plussed, and when with my “stoker” I
fed the furnaces with tan bark, etc., so
wet that the water ran out of the hop
pers, I believed that the firemen ware
right. —Baton MrnuJ'act rerf Gazette.
NEWS AND NOTES FOR WOMEN.
Vassar has a prohibition club.
Simplicity, rules in floral decorations.
Horseback riding is a craze in Wash
ington.
Women’s new coats are either very
long or very short.
New Orleans has the only- woman’s
club in the South.
The banjo is still a favorite instrument
in English society.
There are I'j.OOO women in the English
Liberal Association.
A woman has been licensed as a vessel
captain in New York. !
Walking gowns of simple pattern are
made of heavy checked tweed.
There have been no changes in the
fashions in China for centuries.
Amelie Rives-Chanler, the novelist, is
painting a picture of her husband.
The St. Marks Railroad in Florida is
reported to have a lady conductor.
For use with special costumes muffs
are now made of the same material.
Pumpkin yellow is the title of a
gorgeous hue, just now very popular.
The Red Riding Hood cloak is worn
by little girls under eight years of age.
Yellow, cinnamon and pink-tinted
diamonds are much sought after just
now.
The fur collarettes with square tabs
which were worn last year are still in
vogue.
A national convention of women will
be held to consider the question of
domestic labor.
Black veils covered with heavy black
spots are worn, hanging loose from tht
front of the hat.
Watches are again worn by the fashion
able folk, not only as a convenience, but
as an ornament.
Small gilt hairpins with round loops
at the ends are liked by many ladies foi
dressing the hair.
Delicate shades of gray, relieved witl
pink or blue trimmings, are fashionable
for young women.
Jewelry set with pearls is much worn,
aud pearls are as fashionable for young
brides as diamonds.
Parisian shoemakers concede the
American woman’s foot to be the hand
somest in the world.
Black stockings are worn by little girls
upon all occasions, without regard to the
material of the djess.
Directoire tq* gowns are seen in vari
ous combinations of color, but oftenest
in a color over white.
The Woman’s Christian Temperance
Union of Alabama declares itself op
posed to female suffrage.
The redingote or polonaise effect is
noted in every style of costume, from a
ball dress to a tea gown.
Chantilly is prefeired to all other
black lace 3 this season. It is, however,
seldom used with light colors.
A fashionable novelty in jewelry is a
set of earrings made of tiny oyster shells
held together by a pearl or diamond.
Well known veterinary surgeons are
continually being called upon to attend
the canine pets of fashionable women.
The Newmarket is a popular eloqk for
very cold weather. It is maae of heavy
goods suited to keep the wearer warm.
Habits are somewhat longer than they
have been of late. A tendency to velvet
collars is to be observed in the bodices.
A novel idea which is popular with
a few young women is the wearing of a
feather boa attached to the wide brimmed
hat.
' Miss Fanny M. Bagley, formerly
managing editor of the St. i.ouis Chroni
cle, is now editing theAuta in San Diego,
Cal.
Masculine looking tailor-made cos
tumes, with double-breasted bodices and
man’s collar and scarf, are still worn in
London.
Brilliant colors are not popular for
young ladies. Evening gowns are made
up in neutral and pale hues, gray being
the favorite.
Wool balmoral skirts, faced half a
yard deep, inside and out, with water
proof tweed, are worn by Engli.h ladies
in wet weather.
American girls are very much admired
in London, some on account of theii
pink faces, and others on account of
their greenbacks.
A Chinese girl took the highest honors
of her class in the Woman’s Medical Col
lege in New York. . She could converse
aud write in five languages.
Des Moines, lowa, has a school named
in honor of Louisa Alcott, and it has
recently been presented with a life size
portrait of that writer’s mother.
The question of admitting a lady to
practice at the bar has been raised in
Belgium, and for "the time being has
been answeaed in the negative.
Colored stones, as a rule, appear in as
sociation with a diamond or a white
pearl, aud, when set in cluster, the
white gem becomes the central one.
Miss Emily Faithfull is out in a strong
condemnation of the so called exchanges
for women’s work. Bhe says that they
tend to make women more dependent.
A favorite ring is one in slender gold
setting, containing a small but fine gem.
A ring of gold rope, tied in a tiny knot
on top and set with a gem, is attractive.
Nearly 3500 patents have been granted
to women. The majority are for inven
tions of household and dress articles,
but a surprising number are of a sterner
character.
The ( position of inspector of lace
manufacture in Ireland was recently
made vacant by the death of the occu
pant. The English Government has ap
pointed a lady to fill the vacancy.
The word trousseau no longer points
exclusively to matrimonial garmenture,
but is now used to indicate any particu
lar selection of costumes, whether foi
summer, winter, seaside, or for travel
ing.
JaneCobden, the daughter of the fa
mous Richard Cobden, of England, says
that the Women’s liberal association* of
England number more than 16,000 mem
bers, and have become a powerful in
fluence.
One of the latest fads of fashion is for
ladies to carry a stick. Miss Turnure
and Miss Camilla Moss can be met almcst
any morningon Fifth avenue. New York,
taking a constitutional, with a slender
oane in hand.
WISE WORDS.
Every bee’s honey is sweet.
The house showeth the owner.
Anger at a feast betrays the boor.
New truths are merely old ones with
the cobwebs brushed off.
The gratitude of place-expectants is a
lively sense of future favors.
It is no cbmforfto be told we are free
to follow the advice of others.
Man is a noble animal, splendid in
ashes and pompous in the grave.
Afllction may one day smile again; and
till then, sit thee down to sorrow.
The less we know what is in store for
us, the more contented we will be.
Walk the path of advice carefully for
deception will be met at every step.
If a man has the toothache, he cannot
imagine how a man feels without it.
Those who’ advocate the virtue of
yieldiugare benefited by the process.
To be popular a’person must possess
the talent of disguising his character.
A dwarf sees farther than a’giant when
he has the giant’s shoulders to mount on.
To express an opinion because some
one else had previously expressed it, is
like thanking a man for the privilege of
earning a living for him.
The reason some people are afraid that
others will make bad use of their liberty,,
is because they want to monopolize their
own, and enjoy besides, all they caw
deprive others of.
The Senorita Thought They ’Hissed.
There is no city in the United States
where mistakes arising from ignorance
of the customs of other countries are
more likely to occur than in Washington.
Some evenings ago there was a Social
gathering at one of the most hospitable
houses in the city. Not the least im
portant incident on this occasion was
the singing of the daughter of a certain
South American Minister. The young
lady, tall, beautiful, with large, lustrous
dark eyes, at once engaged the sympathy
of her audience. She naci'biit lately ar
rived iu Washington and-‘her English
was so imperfect that she sang the words
of her song only in her Own language,
“l a Paloma” was her selection, and its
plaintive strains rendered by her rich
contralto voice held her auditors almost
spellbound. At its conclusion the en
thusiasm she hid created broke out iu
applause. There Were several old gen
tlemen, one a member of Congress, who
showed their uppreciat on not only by a
look of kindly- approval on their faces
but by patting the floor with their feet;
aud so loudly did they express them
selves in this‘way that they were heard
above all the other manifestations of en
thusiasm in the loom. The Senorita,
who at first-.received.the appreciative ap
plause smilingly, looked down to the
noor as her eyes tiffed with tears aud the
muscles of her month played tremulously.
She was evidently laboring under a
tieavy emotion not resulting from the
praiso the applause gave her. A mo
ment more and she drew forth and raised
to her eyes a delicate lace handkerchief, 1
then risipg slowly she crossed the room
to where her father sat. He arose won
deringly to meet her.
“Cadre.”shc,said, “ellos m,e burian.
l.leveme a casa.” (Father they hiss me.
Jake me home.) . t . . * , i
“No, no. Us una equivocacion solo.
Ellos nos hacen honor/” (No, no. It is
i mistake. They do us honor by the ap
plause.)
“l’ero patean.” (But th v stamp
their feet.)
“Ah,” sa’d ths experienced diplomat,
aughing, and • continuing in Spanish:
“Youare not in our Southern country.
Here the stamping of feet is Hot to hiss,
but to applaud.. •», '
The Senorita was by this time sur
rounded by her host and other ladies,
inquiring and concerned for the cause of
her grief, and when the Minister ex
plained to them the custom of his country
and the misinterpretation, of the stamp
ing of feet, they consoled their young
guest, who smiled through her tears aud
finally responded to a demand for an
encore. —New York Tribune.
Porous Waterproof U'lotb.
An excellent method for preparing a
porous wmterproof cloth is’said to be the
process adopted for the tunics of the
French soldiers during the Crimean
War. It is as follows: Dissolve two and
a quarter pounds of alum and dissolve
it in ten quarts of water; then dissolve
in a separate vessel the same quantity ot
sugig of lead iu teu gallons of water*
and mix the two solutions. Now handle
the cloth well in this liquid until every
part of it is penetrated, then squeeze it
and dry it in the air or in a warm room,
then wash it in cold water and dry it
agaip, when it is fit to be used. If
necessary the cloth may be dipped in the
mixture and dried twice before being
washed. Cloth so treated, whether cot
ton or wool, is said to shed rain like the
featfiers on a duck's back, and is more
over partially the proof. The liquor will,
appear curdled when the alum and lead
solutions are mixed together. This is the
result of double decomposition, the sul
phate of lead—which is an insoluble salt
—be ng formed. The sulphate of lead
is taken up in the pores -of the
and it is unaffected by. rain and yet it
does not render the cloth air-tight; air
tight cloth does not admit of the passage
of air, and is both unpleasant and un»
wholesome to those who perspire freely.
Courier-Journal. * j
■uni t
The Importance of the Loiter A.
A correspondent writes to the New
Fork W<rld, saying: I have just made a
discovery, which is, to say the least, odd
indeed. The letter A, the leading letter
in the alphabet, is to be found in the
names of every one of our Presidents of
the United States of America, to wit:
George W A shington,
John A dams.
Thom A s Jefferson,
James M A dison,
J A nres Monroe,
John Q. A dams,
Andrew J A ckson,
Martin V A n Buren,
William H A nison,
John A. Tyler,
J A mes Polk-,
Zachary T A ylor,
Mill A rd Fillmore t
Fr A nklin Pierce
J A mes Buchanan,
Abrah A ni Lincoln,
A ndrew Johnson,
IT. S. Gr A nt,
Rutherford B. H A yes,
James A. G A rfield,
Chester A. A rthur,
Grover Clevel A Dd,
Benjamin H A rrison.