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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.