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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.