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ONLY A HONQ
Jt w«* o«lv • «lnipU ImIIwI.
Ho»K to • can-:*** throng.
ThM- ««T" now that know tha atngar
And taw that luv-tod tbe ««•«
Yet th* .Inzer'* vote* w *" ten l»r.
Awl aw<-l aa with love untold
(surely U> ■ • h arta were hard-Md
Tliat la left ao bard and < old
Mba **n< "f lb* Woodrow gi T 1
That twirb** the *'►«!« in ring
Os V>a atranx* a ml atirrinj »■
H han "lb* bill* break to'th and ring
Ot th* happy lard* low warbling
The requiem of the day
And tie- qiitot bulb of the vail rjfa
In th- duak of the gloaming gray
Aral one in a diatant comer
A w .rn-tn worn with atrite
Heard in that aang a
From the a|>rlngtl>na of bar life
Fair forma rone up before bar
From the mlat of raniabed yeara;
Hhe Mt in a happy btin ineea,
liar eyea were Tailed in leara
Then when lb* aong wav ended.
And hii>b<«l the laatawaet lone,
Tbe liatener rona up aoflly
And went on the way alone
Once more to bar life of labor
Kba 1-aawal, but her heart was atrung
And aba prayed, "God Idea* the .Inger
An t, <A, Uivnk God for the aongl”
—f’lulmfier'*' Joui'xa
a TiKiusairro five.
If you take a eharp tutu to the right
midway on iba illey road between lhe
city of Gxou an 1 Liltlemore Asylum a
beautiful green lane will bring you to
the loi k‘ and the narrow foot bridge
which for convenience ia plai -><! across
th- Hood palea that lou may paw to the
opposite bank of lhe Thames The an
tique city liei still to io ir rlgh' with it*
Spires. and domra, and college towers,
which stand out in the clea. cut, dark
uprights against lhe wintry, gray aky,
or in lhe blue haze of the summer mist,
appeal as if dressed in purple gauze
The bank on which you aland has a
wide foot path, which narrows as you
meds from the city Here th»- river
dee| ena sightly. reflecting insurious
green ahiubbery, while a few ymd.s far
ti>er on the stream gr ws ao shallow tlist
rank though not tin i< tur< -sque weeds
and water flowers spring up to greet the
•yr
In the early mottling or on summer
evenings true admirers of the beautiful
never miss (re pienting thia spot. Lovers,
tbe invalid, the weary student nil alike
here find rial and long to breathe in an
air that aeeiua to stir into life everything
in tbe vicinity.
It was the da) aftei the Oxford and
Cambridge l«>at race At tbe former
university things were unusually quiet,
though tin- ciews v, ere far from dis
oouraged \t thr I ith-i there was high
glew Ash r mill) Miiccr*i ve yr.?rs of
u ••<! drfi’jit, < nmbr uge had
once tnoif f.n the tin I’tic tales had
decided in hr? f iv<»r
’l a few « nriH *»' oxsw.jih mid
Cra nets might I" sc in ri bust couveraa
lion at the va-Miu newl pa nted mid
gilded b"*t Im e< mid not a t. w cancea
ami gigs hud dem tided an open ng of
lb- lock- th il morning Still the mat bed
• acilcmruit and bust c of the time pr
ceding days hud < » al but died mi.
A sober air per dr-.l ever.tiling Hong
bird- tr.>m th. ,i l oughs tiul twi tere l
•light), a. lsieimd t glincv r-kaucc
at passers bv.
■'Yes, Jack, that was the bet.’’
“Frightful odds, wasn't iti” clnmrd
in Mentis Knoll.
But. ay old fi iow do tell us tiiat
tab, pursued th- first sneaker, ast a I
wa I aiu ug th' tire young crack oars
men of the ti st Oxford ctew.
ilr- addle -si d Paul < Tifton They were
seat'd with e ows cn knees and
half reclining o.ei the rdl of Magdalen
College boat houw Al w.-iv attired in
io a* 1 blouses, ale vea tucked up, white
boating trouser andean u shoes.
Panl Clifton. or ' > ant i liff," ia his
companions hoiiii times nd id him. was
the oldest fellow mh s c liege W ith a
forehead largely in i ret al th mgh
pinched in *iice, mid >|ou, n d,hi'
was deemed the largest li -artod fellow
in all Oxfonlahi e lhe whole faculty
loved him and the meanest undergrndu
ate in hit presence had no fears.
“I m a whale if . u fellows don’t bote
s man,” w»< the repl accompanied with
lhe best natured of grins ”
“But say, l lilT. we chaps never heard
that stoiv, rind then, you tell it so
well.”
A slap tail wee . the shoulders, and
Paul coughed, til la .ghed heartily, ami
the old scholar t-e-gau
“Well, tin- lads you must know that
Mau i I’axelft-rs. aa wr called her, was in
her own right one ol tin- uoUl. st wc.il ii
iest, pretti at, and proudest Mtics in
■ I v'ton. bhe had seen nineteen iH u.iti
ful hi in uu nr. and ti e winter* c-uld not
have been very severe, foi tin y hid left
nothing cold or ugh or olm-t tioi.ub e in
her nature iet. u* Imil. , w i proud,
and eh- had a right to lie A, . .| l( . w t s
a gem of a girl -a regular dm hug Both
ier parents were de il. and he unde,
with whom she In d was ,. t , \|. I>{
• sir i c li'gv. and > mmmg the most
aiiulgi n‘ ot old genii' nun
“Throughout our univeisiiy eitv I adv
Maud was the rage mi adoration of
young and old f have hurl it said
that like a mor dug stat. h. t the '.th
o many a poor luolessur au 1 care worn
►t ii. ul I hey did not all lovelier for
ti> simple reason that thci dared m>l
B i it did the fellows goial io » t in their
windows ami see heV t’oat past on her
V uaioiua . morning walk i tell you. my
‘•ds. ami i lifton awuck his Inawtiy
thigh as if to cmpha>ite what lie -a i.
“there are Mime women who are to th
earth aa angels, an I to marrv thorn is m
i»r. t.i spoil them '-mh was I adv Maud
Love was in the air she exhaled, and
tendcim SS secme I to wn t fmiii tin iru
folds • her g-arm. n: wliither she
moved.
“Well, it na* j- s’, twentv.seven reais
•; v. * d < ’h->-tophi ’ uid was the poor-
• - . iderg’a.i is .of eo eg. *wi |ioot
th. he cha,xl 1-1... 'll .nned bn scanty
s. rtments and ia:i x.'.riglitej into-h -i
h. Ir* a his -.pp.o ,h. Y'etby his |on
e manag' dto main:a n I.itnself at col
lege and in a large ex- re- li-1 e l t .
support an invalid s.-e man in u able
h .me in AV de- lie wa. a quiet, earn
cot honest fellow,arid w t all pitied iim.
and. without his knowing it. helped bin.
in a hundred lilt e ways. .
“Next to my room, ami domiciled in
luxury, lived young Tunkerville. the
of our co ie» r e. His father! in
ber.tauce hud but fa leti to him some
mom! . before, and he deserved it. He
i was a es ilal fellow, largo hearted.
I erupt ■. he id 1. and brimful! of sport.
Hi, |,„ . ’ .ok was ever open. Many
.i strugp ng fellow who went to lied at
mr-hr "worrying over thr- expen es of the
mm row w -k. up in the morning to find
placed lietween the 1< aves of hit Latin or
Greek exercise book a small note on th"
I bank of Eng and V first such unnamil
I beneficent* puzzled us. but we very
soon discovered its true author.
•
It was one us those sultry July rnorn
i iugs at the date referred to when Lund,
; Tankerville, myself and five other
I chums stood under a broad tree near the
' main gate of the no '. Botanic gardens
Through lhe bran'he« au i short shrubs
we could all but see .Magdalen college
bridge. Wc had turned out for an air
ing that ni'rning Cigar* were lighted
and anecdotes of interest were being
told, when suddedly the conversation
turned and the subject of our remarks
I became the Izell’ and the 'First 1 ady in
I Oxou '
“•Hold,’ cried Tankerviile, point ng
iu the direction of tbe bridge ‘Why,
there she is Speak of an angel and
“She rarely ever appears,’ I rejoined.
“ ‘By Jove' and on her morning walk
to I fley,’ he continued.
“I glanced at the speaker and said.
‘Strange, lank, that no man seems to
have ever approached, much less at
tempted to woo, Lady Maud '
'she is proud,’ returned Tankerville,
and his eyes dropped a little. Brighten
ing up a little, however, he looked in
the direction of Lund, and, with the
faintest twinkle of the left eve, ex
claimed, with emphasis. ‘A thousand to
five that not a man in Oxou will kiss
Lady Maud without offending her. ’
" 'I II take your wager,’ replied Chris
topher Lund, quietly,‘and what is mure,
will accomplish the feat publicly and
within thirty minutes
“I need not -ay how the boys stood
apart and ga/ed at Lund in utter won
derment. There was silence, but only I
for an instant longer. Tankerville and I
Christopher shook hands Lund for a
moment scratched his forehead, and
half soliloquizing, said, ‘But where to !
raise the five pounds?”
“‘Oh, Chris, never mind that,’ we ail
said in one voice. ‘Here, old fellow,
we'll loan you the sum.”
“Well, boys, I never saw a lad
look as he di I for fully a minute
His eyes were literally alight, and
his whole lieing seemed strangely ani
mated. Within three minutes later our
plans were completed. Tankerville and
your humble servant were to follow
i hristoplier at a safe distance, while he
waste approach Miss Maud Caveliers
midway up the Ifley road No sooner
said than done The other fellows
rgreed to remain in the shrub garden,
and for more than half an hour smoked.
■ hatted, and speculated widely as to ■
(hr stopher's venture. We walked leis
urely lethind while I und bounded for
ward with a light step. For fully a
.piaiterof an hour all was suspense. Our
heroine hud advanced far ahead but
Christopher wa- quick in his movements
and presently was within a few yards of
Lady Maud.
■ vlesaw him gr.icefullv remove his
cap and walk to her side. Lightning
like we observed her draw up and face
Lund a< in indignation As watchers [
only, iny-t-lf and Tankerville were too
fur behind to anything. In
less than an hour, however, the latter ‘
soon became convin ed that he had ! ost
the wager. Yet for months afterward
he pestered me to obtain all the particle
lars ass wiated with I.tind’s during act.
At last I gave in and obtained mi intro
dnetion to her ladyship, the . a wife.
“Her account of the lit: !e episode of ’
that July morning waa touching. I shall i
never forget it. In her own words,
sofiened now and again by u smile, sh«
said
" '.Mr Lund, on removing his cap,
bowed low, and said ’Madam you are
n ladv: lam a sentieman. As such, the
laws of etiquet ■ f irb u me to approach
you without due introduction. When,
how i r. you have hear 1 ray speech. 1
know f ill well that your mercy and gen
tlene-s us spirit will suspend all law in
mi behalf. A wager of a thousand
pounds hus this day been laid that no
man in Oxou will dare approach and
tender you a kiss without giving you
pist offense. 1 have undertaken to suc
ceed and my claims upon you arc these: j
lam the poorest among the poor law
students at college. 1 have an invalid
«ster a a hiuue in Wales. Her life
han.'s on a flireud and a thousand
pounds may aid iti sparing her to me. I
love her with devotion that exceed' dc«
peratinn. and should 'he d e I feel that
no life will be a blank
" 'Of course I allo wed him the ki-s
an act which he performed w ith u
grace I shal' never forget. On hon ing
histale.and as his lips pressed mv check.
I felt a tear quivering beneath my eye
lid I turne I qnieklv to brush it off and i
the young man was rrone The wager,
10'1 will 'ai was well won. And i.ow.
Mi. C lifton voi know the rest My
i hr » is t ■ div rhe dearest aim gentlest,
and among the m unselfish of hus
bauds.
♦ • *
“Hava, said Paul Clifton, drawing
himself up. in\ srory is told. My old
f»it ini is no more a struggling taw stu
dent. Hix s site: lives and is in ioyou*
h> Ith t: this ho .r I ady Lund ■ id»
o. I»es: xoiivtv au I is adored I a pout
and rich. And, Chrisronber. why he ii
m» les> a pviNonagv than the squire of—
wel . you fcl'OAs never tuiud where.’*—
»Triune,
Sunshine, Sen* and sadness
Th* onohi sing* i
And iho sun-shine il:n\r-
1’ .old lu y wkkL-w jk-auo,
\n»i « xWen't j* r. me
into in> nxvm
From the Hla.** in the lan •
The *k«e» are clear
In th-- sk*!i •»i y tri 'u*ar
The rhi drv j r nip ui glee>
T..e en’th is Vr jfet
In tl • i SU t.
But Yxini. is it al u> me?
K.»r, *%c os* tin- wax.
T. \ a «im ’ o »lav
Th • <- uew m- w.*ar\ brain;
ih- ms id» . fair.
With Ro «ieo hair.
1» at tbe piat o
Counter, i
SflfG SI.XG LIFE.
TKB DAILi BSUTXBB IM GMA I
PBMITBMTIABY
ItnllF Fnve Ih* <<mi »!<!• —lHnner
und M<i»|>er The Ajsleiu
rd •;,< npe* From Alnj Mug.
Dcscriuing prison life at 'ing 'iny, *
New York hO'-fJ reporter sacs: The
standing complaint of ih- inmates of the
nri*on is the limited bill of fare I'or
breakfast ia bread, hash and coffee; for
, dinner, bread, meat and potatoes, and
for supper, bread and coffee. But the
bread is without butter and the coffee i«
lacking in augirand milk. One of the
) convicts thus described it on a piece of
brown wrapping paper secretly smug
gled into the cell.
We trump into the me -room an i tasv a
<-u-bione 1 seat,
Tbe haeti upon the table to nox -ry ri hor
sweet:
Tbe coffee is not Java, it's just as blai-a as
sooL
Being made from that sweet sub-tan -e —th"
tbe leggin,- of a boot!
The flrat two meals of the <L y are
eaten in the mess room, which teats two
thousand jiersons, at half that number of
little tables. The men are carefti iy
watched, for this is the time when they
are ail together, and each keeper is on
the alert for tiny aigus of any uprising,
which ia most likely to occur at this
time. The convicts are allowed a tin
plate and dipper, and a knife, fork and
spoon. When the meal ia over every man
takes his knife and fork with him. uid,
tn itching by two huge tuba, drop-first
the knife and then the fork into it in the
presence of a keeper. This is done to
prevent a prisoner from secreting a knife
about his person aa a weapon, or an in
strument with which to worl. hi- way
out of the prison.
At night, when the wmk in tbe shop
is finished, each prisoner takes his place
in the line as it slowly winds through the
yard to the cell room. Before it reaches
ths dooi of the big white washed build
ing it partially halts, tn irking tim be
fore the long tables on the left hand side
of the walk. These tables are set out
in the open air in all weather and hold
many thousand square chunks of coarse
bread. Each prisoner is at lib
erty tn seize one of them in
his left hand, not removing his right
from the shoulder of the man before
him. The line then files up the long
hallway to their cells, and the prisoners
are left to their slice of bread and the
mug of coffee which is placed in every
room during the afternoon.
A regular system is employed at Sing
Sing, which descends to even the most
trivia! matters of every-day life. The |
prison is awake at a certain hour and
the meals are al ways on time, 'i he work
shops open at such a minute and shut
down with equal precision. An hour is '
set when each man is shaved, and once
a week every head is run through the
barber’s shop, where four men are con
stantly behind as many chairs. The
bath room is r.tso in constant use. Its
forty hath tubs are tilted with good,
clean i.ver water numped up from the
Hudson, and once every week each con
vict is compelled to take his bath.
In winter the arrangement is by no
means pleasant, as there is no way of
heating the apartment. It is but recent
ly that the bath-tubs have been added to
the establishment. Formerly it was the
custom to run out a picket line 6f boats
off the prison landing and swim the con
victs io the river. But with every pre- j
caution from the boats aud the men on
the wails a prisoner would now and then
get away by swimming under water.
The escapes from Sing Sing have been
remarkably few The last was on May
2(1, when Joe I’uncois, a Frenchman, j
managed to get away. He was serving !
a five-year term for assault. He wts a
baker by trade, and as there was a va- I
cancy in that department at the prison
Joe was sent into the kitchen to work.
The bakers are inarched out at three
o’clock every morning, and with them
went Pancois. One day he was missing,
and a search revealed his clothes lying
near an open win low in the
bake shop. which looks out
upon the Hudson. The man had jumped
into the water, where he was noticed
struggling by a canal-boatman, but was
not seen to land. Nothing was ever
heard of the man afterward, and it is be
lieved that he must have been drowned
under the prison walls. It is thought
by the prison authorities that the present
system of double doors and watchmen ■
upon the walls makes escape almost im
possible.
Provision is made by the State for all
prisoners whose term has expired. If
the good behavior commutation is not
removed for breach of discipline, three
months’ yearly allowance is taken off the
sentence. Thirty days before the end of
the term of imprisonment each convict
is allowed to let his hair and heard
grow Before he goes forth into the
world again a new suit of clothes is fur
nished him, and an overcoat during the
cold months; besides this, he is given
|0.32 —the amount is allowed him by the
State to reach his friends once more.
AVhen he has once gone free from the
the walls ot sing Sing he can never re
turn as a visitor, although all others are
at any time welcome.
Eating.
Eating, with its accessories, was in
tended to contribute immensely to the
stock of our enjoyments. Os the legiti
mate and healthful sorts we have quite
too tew, as things now go. A charge
from our unsocial, piggish bolting to the
order, beauty, deliberation and sociabil
ity I have suggested, would increa e ten
fold our table pleasures, and add indef
initely to our health. And this would
all come, not with tbe weilth of a mil
lionaire and at the end of twenty years,
but in the cottage of the poor man and
to-day.
This is one of a hundred illustrations
of a great natural law—to wit: that all j
our greatest blessings are within the
reach of all earnest peop e. with very I
little regard to their money or school I
training.— Dio Lewio.
Small and Tall.
My wife is tall, my son is tall.
Much taler thin his father;
To le about as tall as he
I very much would rather.
I look small and I am small, but
W hat makes me feel small rather.
My wife cut down my son’s old clothes.
To make them fit his father
—KxeXaeigs.
' NEWS AND NOTES FOR WOMEN.
Hosiery is shown in every color and
combination of color.
In spite »f predictions to the contrary,
corduroy is popular fur walking suits.
Mrs. ililatovitch. wife of the Servian
1 minister to Great Britain, is an American
l.idy.
l ine jot is much employed in millin
ery, made up in wings, leaves, aigrettes
or spikes.
Plush is the leading fabric for all toi
lettes: even thin evening dresses are
trimmed with it.
< irly astrakhan or krimmer will lie
superseded by the soft, wavy astrakhan.
The galloons even are showing less curl.
Mrs. General ( uster proposes to follow
her "Boots and Saddles” with a book
for childri n descriptive of life on the
plains.
Gloves are shown in every form, size,
co or and quality, and it is a decidedly
difficult matter to tell what the approved
style is.
The latest news from over the sea con
cerning bonnets is that they arc to be
quite »mall, without strings and with
scarcely any trimming.
Hev. Miss Hughes, a bright mulatto
girl, was among the preachers ordained
recently to the ministry of the Methodist
church in North Carolina.
The Japanese cats’-eyes, which are
now fashionable ornaments, are the
polished binge, or thick knob at the
hinge, of the pearl oyster.
Pearlie Gleason, a little girl only nine
years old, took the first prize for oil
painting at the Los Angeles fair. Her
subject was “Christmas Roses.”
Linen collars and cuffs are approved of
to be worn inside the dog collar by
those who do not go to the extreme of
fashion in this idiotic feature of fashion’s
whims.
One of the wedding presents of an
Alabama bride was a bottle of pepper
sauce. The bridegroom is slid to have
eyed it nervously as an omen of future
events.
Miss Virginia Macafee is cue of the
most prosperous planters in Mississippi.
Iler plantation in Holmes county, man
aged by herself, yields as fine a crop of
corn as any in the Yazoo valley.
No matter what the age, beauty or
homeliness, grace or uncouthness of a
woman, the hair is, at present, worn off
the neck and high on the head. The
effect is sometimrs beautiful, but more
frequently frightful.
Miss Mary Lee, daughter of the late
General Robert E. Lee, is an indefatiga
ble traveler. She is now visiting her
cousin, Vnited States Minister Lewis in
Portugal, and before she returns to this
country will extend her tour to Japan.
A very rich evening dress is of white
satin, duchesse and brocade. The
bodice and train are of the brocade and
the side panels of superbly embroidered
tulle with pearl pendants. The long
fichu is of crepe embroidered with
jiearls.
The Ba: o less Burdett-Coutts main
tains a soup kitchen in London, where
the poor can obtain a pint of excellent j
soup for a half penny (one cent). The
soup is said to be of much better quality
than the average article found in Eng
lish restaurants.
Miss Alice Fletcher, well known for
her philanthropic work among the In
dians, has received from the New Or
leans World’s Industrial and Cotton
Centennia’ exhibition a certificate cf i
award and diploma of honor for i
illustrations of Indian progress, ad- [
dresses, etc.
A dark red velvet robe has the skirt of
pale pink satin the shade of ‘faded rose
petal.’’ This is trimmed down the front
with ruehings of silk of the same shade
us tbe satin cut out at the edue in the
form of petals. The sweeping train is
plaited back on one side so as to show i
the underskirt.
The little Holbein dresses which are
so pretty for little girls between five aud
ten years are made of velveteen and
trimmed with gilt or silver braid. The
full waist and gathered sleeves are of
fine nainsook. The Holbein bodice and
tight fitting half sleeves are always per
fectly plain except for the finish of
1 raid. The bodice may be laced or but
toned, as one fancies.
It is now the proper thing for young
ladies to wear aprons when in home toi
let, and they are as fanciful as possible.
The prettiest, however, are after tne de
sign of the Russ : an peasant apron, em
broidered in heavy I ands of blue and
red cross stitch. India silks make very
pretty and useful fancy aprons, being
washable. A sprig of any flowering
vine is embroidered in Kensington stitch
in one corner.
The latest importations for trimmings
for elegant costumes are passementeries.
They come in nch and fantastic designs
of pyramids, canopies, butterflies, flow
ers and other devices worked in the
new wooden and rosary beads. One wide
band of this kind of trimming has a still
wider fringe of two shades of olive
wood beads exquisitely carved, mingling
with finely carved black wood beads,
finished with a fringe of polished rose
wood beads in fuschia shape.
Fifty Two Children in Nineteen Years
The most extraordinary case of fecun
dity that I ever heard of came to my
knowledge last week, says a Naples
(Italy) letter to the Paris /Je? xter. About
twi nty-five miles from here, and by rail
two or Yhree stations beyond Pompeii, is
the historical city of No'cera the Nucera
of the ancien s). In the rione, or ward,
of 1 iposta lives Maddaleua Granata,
aged ortv-seven, who was married at
the ageof twe ity-eight to a peasant, just
nineteen years ago. Madda ena Granata
has given birth to. ether dead or living,
fifty two children, torty-nine of whom
were males She enjoys florid health, is
robust, and twenty four h urs after her
last accouchement was ready to go out
to her accustomed labor in the field. She
has no hesitancy in conversing with any
one about her extraordinary ptolificnes«
Her physician, Rr. Ra ha: I de Sanctis,
of Nocera, says that there is not the least
exaggeration in these statements. Has
any one ever heard <.f such phenomenal
fecundity in the whole historv of ma
ternity-fifty two children, aliveordead.
in nineteen years! he has had triplets
fifteen times.
THE Bl TCIIER'S BUSINESS.
HOW THE SALE OF MEAT IS CAB
BIED OK IK A BIG CITY.
W bai tbe • nrlouw Part* ol « 2
tear Old 'terr Sell tor Other
tleal* and Turkeys.
A corn led three year old steer weigh
ing from 700 to hOo pounds dressed is
the the favorite animal with the butcher,
this weight just striking the golden
mean between too much fat and too lit
tle. Larger animals are wasteful, because
too much of the carcass is fat which
people will not eat. Thin animals are
equal y objectionable. The best steers
are usually grade animals or half bleeds,
short horns, Hereford or polled Annus,
it being a well known fact that the nalt
breed or grade, the p oduce of a thor
oughbred >ire and a native mother, is a
better animal to fatten than even the
thoroiigjibred. The top price paid by
the butchers for a steer of this c ass is
' from 8J to cents per pound, which for
• a steer weighing 800 po inds would be
from S6B to ?70. Let us see how the
i butcher gets his money back. In New
; York and Bro klvn the cutting up of a ;
steer has been reduced to a science, the
main object of which is to moke the ani
mal yield as many good cuts as possible.
The best cuts are sold for prices that
look very high, but then a good deal has
to be sol lat a low figure. The choice
cut of a steer is that from
which the porterhouse steak is
obtained, and is really the forward part
of the sirloin. Os this cut such a steer
will have .70 pounds on each side, of
which GO pounds wi 1 sell for 28 cenis a
pound and the remainder at 25 cents, or
perhaps even as low as 22 cents. Behind
this is the sirloin proper, weihging about
30 pounds a side, and selling at IS, 20
and 22 cents. Behind this again is the
rump, weighing about 25 pounds a side.
This is usually pickled and sold at from
I 12 to l-l cents a pound. The round and
! leg, which are below the rump, will
weigh about 65 pounds a side, of which
about 15 pounds will be good steak, sell
ing for is cents. The balance is sold for
stew meat, pot roasts, or made into
corned beef. The price will run from 10
to 14 cents for clear, boneless meat.
Forward of the porterhouse cuts arc- the
: rib pieces, weighing about 15 pounds a
side, and retailing at from 20 to 22 cents
for roasts. Forward of this are the
chuck and neck These weigh about 100
pounds a side, of which about 20 pounds
will sell for 12 cents a pound for steak.
The remainder is sold for 5, (> and 8
cents, in fact for whatever it will bring,
and is used largely for soup. The plate
and navel, weighing 130 pounds i.i good
steers, is too fat to be sold by the
butcher at retail and [s usually disposed
of to some packing house at 4| cents a
pound. The flank will weigh about
35 pounds and contains about 3 or
4 pounds of meat, worth 10 cents, and
the balance is fat which is sold to the
soap factories at 24 cents. The two
kidneys, with the suet attached to them,
will weigh about, 40 lbs. The kidneys
sell for 12 cents each, the suet for 10
cents per pound. The jo’nt of the hind
leg, weighing from 12 to 44 lbs., is sold
for from 55 to 60 cents, tbe same part of
the fore leg for 36 cents. The latter ,
weighs from 7 to 8 lbs., and both are '
excellent for soup. The liver is sold for
8 cents per pound. The head does not
com? to the butcher at all, but is sold
for bologna sausage meat at 2 cents per
pound. The result of the butcher's
financial operation, provided that the
wfiule animal is sold at the best advan
tage, will be something like this:
GO lbs. porter bouse, at 28c sl6 80
40 lbs. porter house, at 25c 10 0.)
60 lbs. sirloin, at 18x, 20c. and 22c.,
average 2 >c 12 00
50 lbs. rump, at 14c 7 QI)
30 lbs. round, at 18c 5 40
100 lbs. round, at 10c. to 14c., aver-
age 12c 12 00
50 lbs. rib. at 20c. to 22c.. average
,~lc ............................ 10 50
40 lbs. chuck steak, at 12c 4 80
160 lbs. neck, at 5c., 6c. and Bc., aver-
age 7c.. 12 20
130 lbs. plate and navel, at
)-U lbs. flank, at 75
5 lbs. flank, at 10c". \ ’ 50
40 lbs. kidney suet, 10c . 4 00
Liver, heart," shank, etc 3 00
r> j To , tal 68 00 :
Deduct cost of animal 800 lbs., at
B^c 47 1
Apparent profit $5 47 J
There are, however, many cattle sold
in Brooklyn at a much cheaper rate than
the price indicated. The Texas cattle
are the cheapest, and they have been
known to be as low as from’ 3 to 4 cents
per pound by the carcass. The bulk of
the cheap meat sold in Brooklyn comes
from Texas cattle, although * Chicago
dressed beef has been at times very low.
I he price has been in some cases as low
as 3 cents by the carcass.
The majority of the sheep sold in this
market by the best butchers come from
Chicago and are dressed there. A great
many sheep also come from ( anada“and
they are well liked, but the long trans
portation hurts them A good many
sheep are killed in Brooklyn, on Hudson
avenue, and a still larger number in New
i ork. For city dressed the butcher pays
from 7 to 7 J cents by the carcass, and for
Chicago dressed from GA to 7 cents It
is not necessary to go into much detail
about the cutting up of a sheep. A good
deal of the animal is cut up into chons,
at from ,0 to 25 cents per pound. The
leg is sold for from 12 to 14 cents for
roasi ing. With regard to lambs the best
butchers buy city dressed exclusively a
great many of which conic from Canada
and a large number from <>hio. Chicago
dressed lambs are not liked, and are not
much sold. Lamb chops are sold for 25
cents, and the legs from 1G to 18 cents
for roasts City dressed lambs cost 84
cents by the carcass. Whlie parts of the
beep ate sold at a high figure other
parts, such as the shou.der and breast I
are sold quite low, at from sto 6 cents
per pound. mins
The best Brooklyn butchers do not 1
touch C hieago dressed pigs. The best
are got from New Jersey, and the fa™ I
ite size is from 100 to 150 pounds. Pork
of this size from an animal four or five '
months old is by far the sweetest and
best and is as tender as turkey. Such
porkers cost the butchers from G, 6’and
* cents, according to size-the latter
wei ? ohinL ng - ema “ for Brnall anima 's
« e ‘-bmg ,5 pounds. Sucking ni<r S
to u p° und * co"’
ll.uO to sl. 4,3. The cutting up of a ni<r
IS now very simply done, the great
after the hams are cut off beino- cut Tn a
long strip for bacon. Belly pork costs 1*
cents, the loin 8 to 12 cents, bacon }2
cents,smoked hams 12 centa by the hn m
The lard, which forms a considerable
part of the pig, sells for 10 cents at re
tail, or at ii} by the tui> of 40 pounds.
The best turkeys come from New J er .
I sev and are known to the trade as "Phil
1 adclphia dry picked.” They run from j
to 20 pounds and cost the butchers 13
cents. These turkeys have to be re?u.
larly fattened and are not at their b Cs
until the cold weather sets in. Westen
I turkeys can be had for from 10 to i>
cents, but are not ao much fancied. Thj
butc-hera' say that there is not much
. profit in the turkey, but they have to
keep them for their customers.
The shop in which he sells his meat is
the sina lest part of the premises of a
successful Brooklyn butcher. It is sur
rounded by half a dozen ice chambers,
each as large as a good sized room, in
which meat can be kept fresh in all
weathers for a long time. The consump.
tion of ice is enormous: a butcher doing
a large business wili use up SI,OOO worth
in the coarse of a summer. The ce.laris
another great feature of the butcher’s cs
tablishment, filled as it is with miats,
vats for pickling, boilers of Itologna sau
sage, sausiee fillers and all the other
tools of the trade, not forgetting the
smoke house, where aside of pork by the
■ aid of hickory chips can be turned into
bacon in twenty four hours.
Eagle.
Animal Communities.
The social anima's form true commu
nities. They are banded together by
certain common interests, and possess j
principle of association beyond that 0!
the sexual. They present the germinal
condition of a political society. They
comprise most of the large herbivora,
which aggregate for purposes of common
defence, in some cases stationing sentries
for protection while feeding, and in
others folloxving certain acknowledged
leaders. Instances of any such nssocia.
tion are rare among carnivora, the wolves
being the most marked example.
Yet in the social animals, as a rule,
the common interests are few. and the
links of association weak. Individuality
largely persists, there is no idea of ■ om
mon property, and nearly or quite the
only interest in common is that of attack
or defense. Separated from these by s
broad interval are some three or foui
animal tribes whose socialism is of so
advanced a type that it fairly deserves
to be indicated by a special name. These
tribes comprise the ants, bees, and ter
mites, among insects, and the beavers
among mammals. Their conditions ol
association are so different from those
prevailing in most other cases, that il
seems proper to consider them as a sepa
rate class. 1 propose for them the title
of communal animals, as most distinctive
of their life-habits.
Instead of possesing a few links of
combination, these animals have most 01
all of the relations of life in common.
In ant and bee communities, for instance,
individualism has vanished. All prop
erty is held in common, all labor is per
formed for the community, there are 1
common home, common scores, common
duties, community alike in assault and
. defense, and it is difficult or impossibh
to detect any ant or bee doing anything
, for itself alone, or perfoiming any act
which is not intended for the good ol
the community as a whole. Selfishness,
so far as the home community is con
cerned. seems to have vanished, and
labor and life are freely given for the
good of this great whole, with no evi
dent display of any thought of indi
vidual comfort or aggrandizement.-
Pop ular Science Monthly.
The Fine was Remitted.
Failed to note the exception. Squire
Riggs, a Mississippi lawyer, in the con
duct of his cases is so given to “demur
ring” and “filing bills of exceptions"
that he is known all over his judicial
district as “Old Demurrer.” During a
recent trial he filed no less than seventeen
exceptions to the rulings of the court.
Finally, tbe judge lost patience with
him, and charged him with unprofes
sional conduct, and refused to allow him
to proceed further as an attorney in the
case. “Darn such another court as this,"
said the squire, whereupon the judge
fined him $lO for contempt. “Con
tempt!” exclaimed the squire. “Yes,
sir, for contempt of this court,” replied
the judge. “But, judge, I said nothing
of this court that could be construed at
contempt.” “You did, sir.” "Whai
did I say, may it please your honor?"
“You said, sir, ‘Darn this court.”
“You are mistaken, judge, and failed to
note my exception. I distinctly said,
‘Darn such another court as this.” “The
fine is remitted; proceed with the case,
gentlemen,” said the Judge.— Detroit
Eree Press..
Carions Skull Caps.
A curious manufacture peculiar to
Tunis is that of skull caps, noted for
their brilliancy of color, their fineness
and durability, ns compared with those
made in France and Italy. The wool,
a mixture of native Tunisian and Span
ish, the proportion of each varying
accordin'; to the intended fineness and
price of the article, is combed and spun
into a fine soft thread, and woven, or
oftener knit, into the conical cap*.
These are soaked in oil, and then a kind
of form being placed on the knee of
the workman, they are milled bv rub
bing the sides together, frequently
turning the caps: by this process they
are reduced to about one-half their first
size. When the cap is sufficiently
thickened, it is brushed with a burr
from a kind of thistle, in order to bring
out the nap, the fibres which project to*
far being cut off with shears. The caps,
thus reduced, napped, and clipped, ars
in the form of a demi-globe, and are
then sent to Tarvan. to be dyed a deep
crimson, the water at this place being of
a peculiar adaptedness for the dyeing
The Wish Bone.
VVe’d had the apples an’ the pie,
An’ folks wuz fee in" jolly,
Erasmus h?ld the wish-bone dry
An’ offered half to Pollv.
Th;y wished, she gave a bashful laugh,
Then pulled—he got the biggest half.
She laughs 1 agin an’ b’ushed right red.
An’, gosh! bat she looked pretty.
“I’ve lost my wish," she smilin’ saiij,
“Now isn’t that a pity f’
She seamed to take it so to heart.
He wished he’d broke the smallest part.
“Let’s telL Don’t mind the charm," iez ha
“Although perhaps we break it
I wished a kiss you’d give to me.”
Sezshe: “/ unshed you'd take it.”
I guess I needn’t tell to you
That both them wishes then kim true.
Chicago Rambler.