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; thl winter solstick. ■ What is the time of the year! ■ % What is the hour of the day! w later at morn and sooner at eve The pale stars shine alway; K And the low sun drifts to So wan that at height of noon I We hardly know it the dun light M Be the parting glow of the -uulight Or the gleam of the risen moon: And ever through shade and lleetin; shine We bear the bleak wind’s tune: I' "Alas, alas for the summer fled, And sky and earth so gray 1" I it la. for the <>d >r of violets I That sprang with the April rain, ' .And the breath of the rose and the Illy That long in their graves have lain! And oh,for the orchard s wealth of bloom. And the wheat field s waving gold! My heart is faint for the splendor -Of bar vest moons, and the tender .Tale that the zephyrs told! Bow shall we live now earth is bare. And the sun himself is cold, the only wind is the bitter north, ■ Bemoaning wood and plain? MlPVait! there's a thrill in the air! K See I in the south forlorn fpTho great san stays his wandering beams, And a new year finds its morn! stars are a- watch, and the mocn*. K The wailing wind drops low; s: 'There’s a murmer of daffodil meadows. of songs in the silver shadows. ] And banks where the violets blow! tires be lit. let shrines be decked. I And joy be lord of woe!— ■ ‘The sun in dory mounts the sky, I And God for enrth is born! —Edna Itoan l*roetor, in the Cook. B THE mutiny. One foggy afternoon a few weeks ago the captain of a trim clipper ship of about 1,000 tons, which lay at an East river pier, was pacing up and down on the after house, and occasionally glanc ing out upon the mist-covered river. The ship was to have set sail for Aus tralia that morning, but owing to the fog the captain had preferred to remain I at the dock. “No. I won’t take any chances,” said the captain to a friend who had come aboard a few moments before, and stood leaning against the tafTrail. "Although I’m a young man, I stop and think be fore I run any risk; that is, when there’s any time for me to stop and think. And yet when I was a boy I was the most heedless youngster going. I did what- I ever came into iny head, and never thought of the conseuuences. But once, just in the nick of lime, it flashed I through my mind that I ought to stop and think. I did stop and think, and if I hadn’t I wouldn’t be alive now, nor would the ship under me be afloat. I was brought up on a farm in the interior : of this State,” continued the captain, “but when I was about sixteen years old i I grew tired of farm life and ran away i and came to New York. I found a place in a grocery store, but I soon got tired of that sort of work. Then it struck me that I would like to go to sea. so off I ; honied to a sailor’s boarding house, the | keeper of which got a berth for me on this very ship. She was then only about , a couple of years old, although : I don’t know that she looked 1 any newer then than she does now. I signed articles for a voyage from this port to China byway of Valparaiso and back to America. We hadn’t been out many days before I found that the life of a boy on board ship, wasn’t a very pleasant one. The second mate, in whose ■ watch I was, often kicked and cuffed me, and the mate struck me whenever he had a chance, while the old captain, who always hated boys, would look at me as if he wanted to throw me overboard. The sailors used to swear at me, and some of them thought nothing of hitting me when none of the officers were looking. All this made me wish I had never even heard of the sea. Arter we had passed the equator we were carried along by the southeast trade winds until we got about off Rio Janerio. The first evening after we lost the trades, when the watch went to the pumps they would not work. There was some obstruction in them, but the carpenter could not find out what it was. As the ship was leaking a little the cap tain decided that it would never do to §o around Cape Horn with the pumps in hat condition, so he said he would put into Rio Janeiro and have them over hauled. “I was, of course, delighted at the prospect of seeing a foreign port. The night after we had headed toward Rio I heard the sailors in my watch talking about the captain. One of them said that the cook had told him that the cap tain was going to do some trading on his own account when he got to China, and that he had considerable money with him. I paid no attention to this state ment at the time. All I thought of was .about getting into Rio Janeiro. We got within about a day’s sale of Rio when the carpenter, who was tinkering about the pumps, discovered the obstruction and succeeded in removing it. Then there was no need putting into port, and the captain gave orders to head toward Cape Horn again. I did not like this at all. It was late in the afternoon when we put about. I noticed during the dog watch that the men were talking ’ very earnestly among themselves in the forecastle. Eight bells struck, and the watch to which I belonged went on deck. I kept the lookout for two hours, fc and at four bells, when I went down on the main deck, one of the sailors, who fefwas known as ‘Big Pete,’ came up to me ;Mnd began to talk very pleasantly. This Surprised me, because generally he had weemed to dislike me. Big Pete was a wll, brawny fellow, and was the wicked •t-looking man in the crew, and that was saying a good deal, for they were a hard-looking lot of sailors. After talk ing about things generally for a few minutes, Pete said: “‘Now. young fellow, I know that you don’t like it aboard this ship. No more do wo. You're always getting knocked about by the mat's. and I don t see how you stand it. Now, if you had a chance to get ashore at Rio Janeiro, you wouldn’t throw it away? Wages is good in the high country. A smart young fc fellow like you could get a job on some ranch, and make a fortune in a few years. ’ “‘I wouldn't like anything better,’ said I, ‘but I can’t get ashore. The captain ain’t going to put iuto Rio after all.’ “ But wo’ll fix that, my lad, if you’ll go in with us,’ said Pete. “ ‘You don’t mean to mutiny?’ I asked, starting back in alarm. ‘“No, no mutiny,’replied Pete, ‘that is, not the bad kind of mutiny. But we can't stand it on this boat any longer, and what we want to do is to get into Rio, and we cm do it without hurting anybody or robbing anybody. A few minutes afore eight boils the second mate | will go into his stateroom for to write it iin his log book. You know he always does that before eight bells instead of waiting until after the watches are changed, as lie ought to do. Then all we’ve got to do is to fasten the forward cabin doors on him! At the same time the man at the wheel will just fasten the door of the after-companionway. Then we’ll nail up the window shutters :ii. .round the cabin on the outside, and we’ll have all the cabin people tight without having so much as struck one of them.’ “ ‘And what then?’ 1 asked. “ ‘Why, then,’ said he, ‘I know enough about navigation to take the ship into the harbor of Rio. There are twelve of us beside you, and the cook will work with us. We can get along without the captain, the two mates, the carpenter and the steward. They’ll be locked up in the cabin, where they 11 find plenty to eat and drink. We’ll manage to strike the harbor along in the evening. Then we let go the anchor and take a few of our clothes and row ashore. We leave the bout at a landing and go to a boarding house keeper that I know who'll keep us till we get a chance to run up into the high country, where we can get jobs on ranches.’ “ ‘But how about the ship?’ I asked eagerly. I was trying to persuade ray self that there was nothing wrong about Pete’s plan. “Why, the ship is seen next morning.’ he replied, ‘and plenty of bouts comes alongside. They find them all safe and sound in the cabin. Nobody’s hurt and nobody’s robbed, for don't we leave our chests and nearly a month’s wages on board ! And ain’t the boat found at the landing? Then the captain ships a new crew and goes on around the Horn. Come, my lad, tell us, are you with us?” “I wanted badly to get ashore, so, as usual, without stopping to think of con sequences, I told Pete that I would stand by him. Another sailor who was stand ing near us and who had heard me give my decision then came up to Pete and said: “ ‘Don’t you think as how the lad ought to do it? He’s light of foot and wouldn't stumble and wake them, like one of the lubbers probably would.’ Pete seemed to reflect for a moment. Then he turned to me and said: ‘You are the very one to do it, my lad. You see, though we don’t want to hurt no body in the cabin, we ain’t so sure that nobody in the cabin wouldn’t hurt us if they got a chance. Now, the mate, he’s got a pistol. He keeps it in the drawer right under his bunk, and that drawer is nearly always part open, so the cook says, and he's been in there. The second mate don’t keep no pistol; no more does the steward nor the carpenter. But the captain keeps two pistols. They are right in the drawer of the table in the after cabin, and the drawer isn’t locked, so the cook says, and he's been in there. Mind, I don't ask you to steal those pistols. We only want to got them away from the cabin folks, who might do some harm with them. We’ll never use the pistols. We’ll put them in the cook’s storeroom, where they’ll i find them quick enough. If it wasn’t stealing, we’d just chuck those pistols overboard.’ “As usual, I did not stop to reflect. I volunteered to secure the three pistols and was slapped on the back and told that I was a brave lad. I had on several occasions, while at work,peeped through the after cabin window, and had seen the table in the drawer of which were the two pistols. The captain’s state room opened off of the after cabiu, so that there was some danger of waking the skipper, but this did not frighten me out of undertaking the adventure. It was agreed that I should go into the cab n and secure the pistols at seven bells, if the second mate was then aft, as he was pretty sure to be. At length seven bel's struck aft, and were repeated by the lookout forward. The second 1 mate was standing aft by the wheel, and the coast was clear. I stole through the port cabin door and went into the state room of the mate, who had left his door half open. He was snoring heavily. Be ' ncath the bunk I found a drawer, partly | open. I stuck in my hand and after a little groping I found the pistol and took 'it out. I got sa'ely out of the mate’s I room, and, moving softly through the forward cabin, I gently opened the door lof the after cabin. I could hear the breathing of the captain, who seemed to be sleeping soundly. I groped my way to the table and succeeded in opening ' the drawer and securing the two pistols with mt making any noise. Then I stole buck to the door and was about to enter I the forward cabin, when a thought struck me. And strangely enough, for the first time in my life, I stopped and reflected. “ ‘What,’ thought I, ‘if these men are bent on real mutiny? What if they mean to shoot the officers with these pistols? ' Some one said that the captain had i brought money with him to trade with Jin China. Suppose the men propose to ! secure that money, and sink or set fire ‘ to the ship, after murdering the officers, and perhaps me? They could easily es ; cape to the shore in the long boat.’ “I looked toward the deck, and through the door of the forward cabin ; I could see dark figures moving stealth-, ily and easi'y about. What could I do? i A thought struck me. One by one I re moved the cartridges frem the revolving cylinders, and thus ren ler the pistols harmless. Then I placed the cartridges in mv pocket and stole through the for- I ward cabin and out on to the deck. I I» as instantly seized by rough hands, and th« pistols were taken from me. Then I found myself flat on my back, •w ith a man's hand over nay mouth. I looked up and saw pointed at mv breast a sheath knife, which was in the grasp of a wicked looking sailor. I saw that I had fa len into a trap, and I gave my self up for lost I closed my eyes, ex pecting to feel the steel enter my breast. Then I heard a smothered curse from Pete. “ ’These pistols naven't so much as a cartridge among the three of them,' said Fete. “I opened my eyes. The sailor who had prepared to stab me had paused in his murderous work. Pete bent over mo and in a fierce whisper wanted to kn >w what 1 had done with the cartridges Then 1 thought that 1 saw a glimmer of hope. “ ‘There was a box of cartridges in the cabin drawer,' said I; 'but how did 1 know the pistols wasn’t loaded? 1 didn't , have time to stop and look.’ “One of the sailors proposed that I should be sent back after the cartridges, but I said 1 was afraid they would kill me the moment I got back. Pete swore that no one would touch me if 1 brought back the cartridges, ‘And,’ said ho, ‘we'll give you your full share of the captain’s money.’ I said that I would go back. The sailors pushed me toward the cabin door. 1 glanced over my shoulder and caught sight of the green light of another vessel some distance off. That gave me an idea. After Pete had shoved me into the cabin door I made a bound for the after cabin and cried out at the toj: of my voice: “ ‘Ship ahoy! Captain! A sail on the starboard bow close to us! She’ll run us dowel Have out. everybody!' “1 looked over my shoulder. Dark I faces were glaring in through the cabin door. But the men seemed undecided whether to follow me. Then camo an swering shouts from the people in the cabin. The mutineers seemed to be taken by surprise. A panic seized upon them, and they retreated forward. The captain, mate, carpenter, und steward came out of their staterooms and hurried on deck, and saw a vessel cross our bows, but at a good distance ahead. Then the cap tain gave me a cuff, and dragging mo into the cabin, asked me how 1 had dare.l to wake him that way when there was no danger. I hurriedly told the captain what had happened. He rushed into the after cabin, and, unlocking a drawer under his bunk, took out several loaded revolvers, one of which he gave me. Then he called the mate, carpenter, and steward, and gave each of them a revolver, and told us to follow him. He went out on deck. j and we stood by him, ready to defend . c ’’sif we should be attacked. The captain summoned the second mate and told him to call all hands aft. The mutineers came aft with ugly looks in their faces. The captain told them that if he had the time to spare he would put into Rio Janeiro and have them punished for mutiny. But ho wanted to continue the voyage, and he proposed to make them behave themselves. They could have made nothing by murdering him, he told them, for the money which he was going to trade with in China was all in bills of ex change, which they could not have had cashed. Then, raising his pistol, the captain ordered the men to lay their sheath knives and the empty pistols they had taken from me on the capstan. They quietlv obeyed him. The captain then reprimanded the second mate for having been in the habit of makiug entries in his log book before his watch went below. After he hail done with him the captain pointed at me and said: “‘I appoint this young man third mate. He shall live in the cabin and be taught navigation. The first man who touches him shall be shot. Now, men, go about your business.’ “The sailors obeyed him, and they completed the voyage without attempt ! ing another mutiny. 1 was taught navi i gation, and slowly rose to be captain of this ship, all of which never would have happened if I had not stopped to think at the critical moment when I was about to leave the after cabin with the stolen pistols in my hand.”— New York Time». People Along the Elbe Shore. One of the most pleasing traits, tome, in the German character is the kindness shown to animals. One is not made miserable, as in Italy, by seeing the i wretched, raw, bleeding horses straining at an impossible load, kicked and lashed into hopeless efforts to drag a weight far I beyond their strength. On the contrary, i the fine horses which draw the loads of stone or wood are as well fed and groomed as those between the shafts of a carriage. Indeed, humanity would here seem to be carried almost to ex cess. Particularly glad is one to see well treated the good dogs which so willingly drag about the little carts, reminding one°of Ouida’s pathetic story, “A Dog of Flanders.” I often see the market women put down a sack for the good beasts to lie on, and it is pleasant to hear their cheerful greeting when their mis tress returns; and amusing enough to see two rivals barking excitedly at each other, while the women, laughing, give a help ng or restraining hand. All, too, who have beeen in Germany will remem ber the little wooden boxes fixed up in trees or against houses for the birds to make their homes in. But though humane the Saxons are fond of sport, their) king setting them a good example, and there is plenty of game to be found in the forests. Stags, ' roe-deer, hates, foxes and badgers are apparently common, but there seem to be neither wolves nor bears. — Schandau Cor. Chicwjo Timet. Then and Now. Measles formerly carried off from five to ten per cent, of the people. In the last twenty-five years about two per cent, of the mortality has been caused by measles. In London, from 1G75 to 1757, seven to ten per cent, of the people died of small-pox. From 1851 to 18U0, one per cent, in England died from this disease. Convulsions destroyed between 1701 and 1757 in London from twenty-seven to thirty per cent; from 1848 to 1850 only three per cent. Fevers were common ind destructive lin former t ines: more than fifty per ! c nt. of the deaths in London, during : the last quarter of the seventeenth and , the first half ot the eighteenth century, were irom fevers, but from 1851 to 1800 three per cent. Teething iormerly caus'd a great num ber of deaths: now very few. | Consumption was formerly more de ' atructive than now. In England it for- I merly caused seventeen per cent, of the I deaths; now from ten to twelve. Some ! diseases formerly very destructive have I disappeared. —ZWo Lewin. A KENTUCKY COURT SCENE. H3W A LOUISVILLE JUDGE EBB SID~D JH A LAWLESS BEGIOM. I rl>>X'"tr In a N n Complying XVII ne«< on n l.llier—Where Siers e < nr led the liny. A recent letter from Louisville to the ( lilcago //. >•«//</, says: The chief trouble attending the conviction of the despera does whose acts of violence in some sections of Kentucky have for years pro duced a reiga of terror, and a cause which is not understood by those who only rend accounts of the crimes com mitted, has been the failure on the part of the prosecuting attorneys and crimi nal judges to do their duty. This failure is to be attributed to what may best lie called "local influences,” If a judge belongs to one faction, or owes his election to a particulrr party, Ilia op ponents at once declare their inability to receive fair treatment at his hands, and will fight rather than be tried. In one of the counties where scores had been killed who belonged to opposing fac tions. and where houses were barricaded, the law abandoned, where women and children were armed, and the extermina tion of the entire population a matter of early possibility, the governor requested Judge William L. Jackson, of the Louis ville Circuit, to hold court. Nobody thought the Louisville judge would com ply. but in this they were mistaken, for he proceeded forthwith to the scene of bloodshed, quietly announced his pres ence and made known his mission. These facts excited the greatest curiosity throughout the county, and when the day of trial came on the whole populace appeared in the court house with but little exception. The first case, one of murder, was called. All the witnesses responded to their names save one. "We must have that witness, Mr. Sheriff,” i said the court, firmly. “If your honor pleases I can't get him,” . <iid the county sheriff. “That's no excuse, sir; have him here I without fail in four hours. Let the court { stand adjourned until 2 o’clock.’’ And as Judge Jackson finished speaking he | arose from the bench with dignified ease, ; calmly put on his hat and walked from the court room alone, to the great aston ishment of the natives, whose regular judge would have remained until per fectly satisfied that no enemy was near. At 2 o clock court again convened. The bawl of the sheriff, "Oh yes, oh yes, court is now open,” had scarce died out before Judge Jackson asked sternly: “Mr. Sheriff, have you brought that witness in court?” The sheriff, answering in the nega tive, gave as his reason for failure to obey the court that he found the house of the witness barricaded and full of aimed mountaineers, who swore they would kill any man who attempted to enter. “Mr. Sheriff," said the court, very sharply, “such an excuse is not to be thought of, and will not be entertained. I want the witness here at 10 o’clock to morrow morning, if you have to bring him on a litter. Mark you, sir, a failure to comply on your part will compel this court to fine and imprison you to the full extent of the law. Do your duty, sir.” To say that the natives were aston ished does not convey the slightest idea of their true fee'ings. All that after noon and next morning there was a uni versal desire to sec the “city Jedge close,” and the fellow who got to shake hands with him had all the free drinks he desired. Court opened promptly st 10 o’clock . “Mr. Sheriff, have you that witness?" asked the court. “Yes, your honor,” spoke the sheriff, excitedly; “lie’s coming.’’ A curious sight presented itself now. Half a dozen stalwart men appeared i carrying another, who was the missing witness. One ann hung limp at his side, a leg refused to do its duty, blood trick led from all over his head, and an im mense bandage concealed one ey6. “Stand up, sir," spoke the court, and, with the aid ol his captors, the fellow assumed as fair an upright position as his wounds would permit. “What do you mean by evading the law?” asked the judge “I didn't know it was your court, sir. I thought they wanted to take mo to Louisville for moonshining. I knew as how there were deputy marshals about, sir.” “Mr. Clerk,” said the judge, “are there any United States marshals in thia section?" The clerk said there were and that they had warrants for the civil witness, whereupon he directed the sheriff to bring every one of them into court, an order soon complied with. Eight United States marshals faced the court. “Gentlemen,” began the judge, “have you warrants for any of these witnesses? “Yes, sir, for nearly all of them, and four for this chap,” answered a marshal, ! indicating the wounded man. 1 “Well, gentlemen, lam holding court I here now, and if you interfere with me in anv manner whatever. I’ll put you all in jail for a year—every one of you. I>et this case begin.” The trial proceeded, and more convic tions followed tom hid happened pre viously in the whole life of the county of Breathitt, which is now one of the best in Kentucky and where capital is now finding the richest cannel coal in the world, England not excepted. Judge Jackson recently went to Letcher county st Governor Knott’s re quest. “Will you need a hundred men?” asked a local friend of justice who well knew the desperate affairs which had marked every previous trial of the ac cused. "No,” thundered the Judge, “this court, is equal to a hundred men itself." This remark went the rounds like wildfire, and during the long tria's which followed enabled the court to conduct its business without the slight est jar. As has been maintained by the Timet, in dealing with Kentucky feuds theoniv thing necessary to make peaceai le and good citizens out of the law less men of the nr> iiiitivns of Kentucky h is been the need of men like Ju 'ge sack«on, who«e nerve and firmness find respect as quickly ,wi h desperadoes as with peaceable citi zens. Governor Knott expressed him self as much pleased with the manner in w lieh Judge Jack«on has conducted court in the mounts'na. “I would rath r send him to try these lawless peo ple than a regiment of soldiers,” ob served the governor in a conversation recently. The Potato. No article of common food has been inure abused than the humble potato. Yet no other vegetable is capable of being put to so many uses. It is the rival of bread, and shares with it the honor of always being found in its place on our tables. Everybody, except some dyspeptics, can cat potatoes, but it is not every one who knows the best way of eating them or of cooking them. A baked potato is always nutritious. Boiled potatoes are scarcely worth their salt if they are left to soak in the kettle. Mashc.l potatoes are good if served with milk, pepper and salt. Fried potatoes, sliced and fried in fat or butter, arc palatable, but much harder to digest than baked ones. The popular “Saratoga chips” do not retain the dis tinctive potato flavor, and have lost most of its nutriment. The most easy and effectual way to secure the genuine flavor of the potato is to cook it according to this rule: Pare the potato and slice it up, but not too thin; place the slices in a large pie-dish, as if you were to make an apple pie; pour into the dish a very little water, drop a few slices of butter upon the potatoes, sprinkle thcmjwith salt and pepper, cover the whole with another plate and set the dish in a hot oven. Twenty minutes'time is sufficient for the baking. The writer has tried this rule and always with success. The potatoes have a distinctive flavor to be gained by no other method of cooking. The history of the potato exhibits the strength of prejudice and the cose with which a trilling circumstance will often remove it. The introduction of the po tato into the gardens and on to the tables of the people of Europe encoun tered for more than two centuries, such opposition that the philosophers of the age were powerless to persuade the peo ple to use the tuber. Louis XV. of France one day wore a bunch of potato flowers at a court festi val. Then the people obsequiously ac knowledged that tne potato might be useful, and in a few years its cultivation ns an article of food became universal. The potato's stalk produces in Austria a cottony tlax. In Sweden sugar is ex tracted from its roots. By combustion it yields a quantity of potash. Its apples, when ripe, ferment and yield vinegar by exposure, or spirit by distil lation. Its tubercles made into a pulp re used as a substitute for soap in bleaching. By different manipulations it is made to furnish two kinds of flour, a gruel, and a cellular pith which in times of scarcity may bo made into bread or applied to increase the bulk of bread made from grain. Its starch is little, if at all, inferior to the Indian arrowroot. The potato is a native of South Amer ica; but the cultivated plant yields a product infinitely superior in quantity and quality to its wild brother. Ono of the sentences in a Dakota orator’s speech eulogized the potato. Ho said: "Very often an entire family in Da kota sits upon one end of a potato while the other end is roasting in the fire!” Louis XV. would have been proud of his potato blossom bouquet could ho have foreseen such a growth of the potato uh this Dakota variety. Yout/u Companion. An Expensive Chronometer. The following anoedute is very charac tcristic: One of Astor’s best captains had made six voyages to China without a chronometer, but just before sailing on his seventh voyage ho suggested to Mr. Astor that it would bo safer to have one. "Get one," said the millionaire. The captain did so. and entered its cost on the account current. When Astor’s eye fell upon the item he drew his pen through it. The captain ex postulated. “Deuce take it, man,” said Astor, “I told you to get one, but I did not say I would pay for it.” The old seaman left Mr. Astor’s em ployment at once and wont down town, anil before night was In command of ns fine a ship as ever floated. In three days he set sail. At the same time Astor’s ship, under a new commander, also set sail. The voyage to Hong Kong was very clo-e, but the captain who, as he used to say, had “discharged John Jacob Astor,” by keeping the men at the braces, took advantage of every breath of wind and won by three days. The ship was loaded in the shortest possible time, und before Astor’s vessel, which had arrived in the incan tftne, was half loaded our captain weighed anchor, and with a full cargo of tea sailed for New York. He arrived in time and hoisted out the cargo, which was sold at auction on the spot. The market was thereby overstocked, and when Astor’s ship arrived the price had fallen. Home time afterward, as the captain was walk ing down Broadway, he met Mr. Astor. “How much did that chronometer cost you?” the latter asked. “Six hundred dollars.” “Well,” said Astor, “that was cheap; it cost me $80,000.” Mr. Astor was actively engaged in business for over forty years, in 1830 he retired with a fortune of #20,000,000, which in the next eighteen years doubled itself by the simple process of compound interest. Mr. Astor’s last years were passed at his town residence, on Broad way, opposite Niblo’s Garden. Towards the close of his life his body became feeb’e. but h smind retained much of its original vigor. On the 2 th of March, 1888, he died, in the B.sth year of his age. The bulk of his fortune was left to his favorite child, William B. Astor, who was already worth four millions. Moro than half a million was left for benevo lent purposes. Besides $400,000 to the library, $50,000 were left to the poor of bis native village in Germany, $30,000 to the German Society of New York, 30,000 to the Home for Aged Ladies, $5,000 to the German Orphan Asylum, etc. — New York World. The Days That Arc Gone. L I met her by the sandy shore, Where wo, together viewed the sea; And listening to ite far-ott roar, She vowwl sue Would bo true to rno. 11. The winter '-am": her heart did rove, An I she exp ainel, this danisel vain, "1 »ai<l I would io urn ymr love: I meant I d give it back again.” -T,d Bite. THE MYTHICAL MILLIONS. DELUDED AMBBIOAV CLAIMANTS OB BSTGUSK EBTATBS. swindling Sleheincv tor the Henetltot 1 nerrnpulona jlffento—Properllev That Ilxler Only In liunglMatlon. A p iper on the suojcct of unclaimed sstatea in England, prepared under tho direction of Minister Lowell by Henry White, one tho American secretaries of legation, has been sent by tlio President to Congress with other state papers. “There seems to be no doubt,” Mr. White says, “that many are led to believe themselves heirs to vast estates in Great Britain by designing persons on both sides of tho ocean, who insert notices in newspapers in tho I nited States that a large property left by a person of the same name with that ot some well known family of the same district, or of some exceedingly common name likely to oc cur anywhere, such as Brown or Jones, o: who distribute far and wide lists of unclaimed estates which do not exist. Large sums of money are annually thrown away by the dupes of these ad vertisements and fictitious lists, end a handsome revenue is made by the agents, as they call themselves, for the discovery of lost heirs and the recovery of unclaimed estates. The modus oper andi usually adopted by those agents is to ask first for a remittance of .22 or £B, to cover tho coat of copying tho will upon which the claim purports to be based; then a larger sum for the expenses of instituting inquiries; and as each successive stage more blackmail is levied, the correspondence being so cleverly conducted that several years fre quently elapse before the fraud is dis covered. None should contribute a dollar to unknown agents, especially to ward anj- expenses connected with es tablishing claims to estates in this coun try, until inquiry has been made of* counsel hero first, as to the existence of tho estate, and then as to the chances ot its recovery. lam told by reputable so licitors that not one claim in a thousand of all those referred to them by tho lega tion has had any validity whatever, and very few, during their long experience of claims from America, have been success ful,” Mr. White describes the results of in quiries relating to the “Jonncns Estate,” in which there were many American claimants, showing that tho property went to tho heirs-at-law long before American claimants were ever heard of, and that the latter never had the “shadow of a title to it.” Moreover, had the title once been a good one It would long since have become worthless by the operation of the statute of limi tations. “Any [attempt, therefore,” continues Mr. White, “ to recover real estate from the crown or individuals after a lapse of twelve years) which may bo extended to thirty under certain circumstances), and personal property after a lapse of twenty years, however valid the claim of the twreou making the attempts may have boon originally, is certain to end in fail ure. “All members, consequently, of the •Jonncns Association 'of the United States of America’ may rest assured that their subscriptions arc simply money thrown away, if their object be the re covery of (he Jcniieus estate. Recently a letter was received here from a mem ber of the aforesaid ’Jonnens Associa tion,’ who hud just been notified that a general assessment of $5 had been levied for the year ending June 30, 1884, and who, before paying tho eaiue, inquired whether tho legation could furnish any Information regarding the Jonnens os ti to, said to be pending before the court of chancery in England.’ ” Himilar to thin are tho “Hedges es tate,” the “Bradford estate,” the “Hyde citato,” the “Horne estate,” and many others winch arc described as among “the ordinary myths by which so many of our countrymen have been beguiled.” With regard to large sums supposed to bo awaiting American claimants in the bank of England, Mr. White quotes from a letter written by the chief ae countant of that institution as follows: “There are no amounts of unclaimed stock or dividends standing in our books. Speaking generally without having made an exit.illative research, would involve some cons durable labor, there are very few amounts of .1! 1,000, ami probably none that exceed this sum by more than £IOO or £21)0." In regard to the fabulous fortunes lock' dup in chancery, he says: “To judge from the letters received at the legation from tho United State) Ju ref erence to tho unclaimed funds in chan-' eery, many of our countrymen must im ugine tbit institution to be a depository of incalculable millions, a goodly share of which can bo easily withdrawn upon the mere institution of a claim to tho same by tho American minister sod without le jireincnt by the court of any particulars as to the name of the suit, the relationship of the claimant to the parties mentioned therein or to the original owner of the estate c airned. It is very rarely that in any communication sent us on this subject a smaller sum is mentioned than several millions, and frejuently our correspondents state that they are entitled to twenty, fifty, and ev n more, millions. It will doubtless cause some surprise and disappointment to such uh these to be informed that tho whole amount of money in the custody of the court of chancery at the present time is about £84,000,000, of which £83.000,000 belong to the owners who ar" unknown, h aving about one million onlv at unclaimed or dormant funds.” A Turtle at the Opera. a New York letter to the Boston One well known society lady made a pet of a small turtle, which she dressed in a pink Hilk dress and took to the opera with her the carried it to the opera house in her pocket, and when she got there p need it on the railing in front of the box with her boquets. There it wool 1 walk up and down, and stick its uglv head out of its shell und ogle the Lida s in the neighboring boxes. “Do -ci Xiche'tc.” she would exchiiin, put ing the turtle on its back : "has she not love yey s?” All tiie gentlemen wo ild say that she had indeed, while in th ir hearts thev would want ta take her by the tail :ut<l fire her into th:; orches tra. It is a siu'/ular fact that but one l>g is '-20 gold niece has ever been discovered, and this bea » the die ot D'so.