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ohimbia
HAKI.EM. OIXHIGIA
I‘UBLJ>HF.R KYI !:Y 1 Uli RS DA Y
Ballard «<• A.tlx.ln»oii.
WtOIVMWMIfc
The law recently enacted in low* not
only req u re* that every picks? ■■ of but
tcrine or < aaeine ahall l> ir, in letters nn
inch and a half long, nn emphatic state
ment that it is mi imitation article, but
it rrqulrra all hotel keeper* and restau
rant and boardinghouse keeja-r* to put a
placuril on every plate of imitation but
ter or chrewi that is brought on the
table, stating that it is not the genuine
article. ____________
Them arc forty-eight women Jnwy ’a
in practice in the United States, dis
tributed M follows, the states bring
given in the order in which they first ad
mitted them. lowa 3, Missouri 2,
Michigan fl, Utah Territory I, District
of Columbia 3, Maine 1, Ohio 4, Illinois
7, Wisconsin 5, Indiana 2, Kansas 3,
Minnesota 1 (from low.i), California 3,
Connecticut J. Maswar hu«’tl'. 1, Nebraska
1, Washington Territory 1, Pennsyl
vania 1.
The American hen is not doing her
duty. Them are 10,000,000 dozens of
foreign hens' eggs brought into this
Country every year free of duly. The
American In n- must scratch ni >und, says
a New England paper, if they are to
avoid the reproach of allow ingthe egg in
dustry to be crushed by the competition
of the cheap pauper fowls of tin- effete
monarchies of the old world. With In
cubators to help them the American hens
ought to make a better record.
lire acreage tn cotton of the cotton
growing States Inst year was 17,32'2,383
acres. The crop for the season was 5, -
774,009 bales, equal tn 2,742,900.(111
pounds of lint or about 3,228,8118,033
pounds of need cotton. The great ex
pense attached to cd ton growing is the
Oost of picking. The lowest price paid
f r pie', i ig in n V ol the Huathern States
is fifty cents per 1 (X) pound* As the
crop amounted to 8,22 X, 81)8,033 pounds,
the cost of picking was |l 1,4 14,4 ID.
( The fill ma of Amcrii i cqil'il the entire
♦firlory of the United Kingdom,
Finmw, Belgium, Germany, Austria,
Hungary ??'* I’ortugal. Th- coni Mds
equal th# extci t of England, Scotinfil i
and Belgium; while the grain fulls gen
erally would overlap Spain. The cotton
field* cover mid area larger than Holland
and twin- ns huge ns lldgium. The rice
fields, sugar and tobacco plant itioru
would also form kingdoms of no ins.-
niff cant »ir,c, and such is the stage of
advancement reached by American agri
culturists that is is estimate I that one
farmer like Mr. Dalrymple, with a field
of wheat covering n hundred sipiare
tnllev, can raise ns much grain with 400
farm servants ox 3000 peasant proprietors
in Franco.
According to sonic sta is’.ics recent y
published by an Indian paper, it appear)
that the people of Great Britain are con
Aidcrably behiii't other nation - in the
'average consumption of tea ]xt head of
population. The Australians coma first
with 7.00 lb. [ict heal; the New Z 'a
luulcrs next with 7.23 lb. per head;
while the Jieople of Great Britain, though
appearing thir l in the list, consume only
4.90 lb. each. Newfoundlnn I and Cana
da come next, while in the United States
the consumption is only 1.80 lb. per
head; and in Russia, which is always re
garded a« a great tea drinking country,
the consumption i.« only 0.(1 lb. ]>er head.
Belgium, Sweden, Austria Hungary, and
Spain consume less than the other Euro
pean nations; but then' is not one
nation on the continent, with the
exception of Holland, in which the an
nual consumption exceeds 1 lb. per head.
There died recently in New York city
at the uga of forty-four, a business man
whose last hours displayed a fortitude
and a tenderness that literature might
preserve. While superintending the re
moval of a nnc machinery he was throw n
under the wheels of a freight car and had
the flesh almost entirely stripped from
one of his legs. While waiting for a sur
geon he continued to give hi* orders to
his men, and wrote a telegraphic mes
sage to his wife to meet him on the arri
val of a certain train. "1 have met with
an accident,” it read, "but I write this
with my own hand.” On arriving at the
Grand t utr.il Depot ho was lomc on a
ktieti her through the waiting room. As
noon is In saw his wife in the crowd ho
<n aved lii» hand t-> reassure her, saying
r.ii ' >-t.b a_sj;i,lc. Her.- lam Annie."
>\ hen t -M t*rr rtuiimb must b- ampu
tated, All right," he replied, “only
leave «ii -ugh foi me to ride horseback
with." I'h innouucement a few hours
laid that he would not survive the oper
atioe, wi* revived with perfect calm
mw- "Il’s mid,” he observed, dryly,
•’that after dodging bullet* for four
years in the wai, and alter fa< ing danger
for twelve yvure in and around the mines,
Idi uld at la«t be killed by a freight
v:,i ’ lie next morning he wis dead,
iia- 2 "stained his COUS. ioUillC'S and
saimiK ** the < nd.
A Singular marriage is repiorted by the
Fredericton, New Brunswick, Gleaner.
A D' Il tker claim dto have performed
a remarkable faith cure upon a daughter
of .lum'-s Young of Nashwauk. The
vo ng l idy was unable t« walk for aev
( r.d rears except on crutches, and was
b-d ridden a great pr rt of the tiro'’.
H aring of her condition nn 1 that all
medical remedies hail fade I, tho doctor
visited her, and by Mime remarkable
r e ins surer-ded in raising her from her
s.< k bed. S!>c gained in strength and
was soon nld • t i W i k w.tiiout crutches.
Having in- o: ipl.-iie'l this, the doctor
If re 1 hi i. in 1 in imrriijc, and tlio
two were we Ide.).
One of the string rat communities in
tin world live* on the Island of Bcdondr
which is one of tin- British West Indies,
betw n Nervis mid .Montserrat. It is
very rocky and bnrre >, and contains no
vegetation, but Ims extensive mines of
p osphute of alumina und iron. About
fifty men work in 'he»c mine’, they being
the on y per ons on the island with the
exception of the foreman's wife. Their
I y ivis ' 'n I. v 'o b ‘ brought from Ncr
v.s rind Mont-< rrat in small boats. Thu
men live in sniiill wooden huts built for
th, purpoe . The climate of Redonda
is beautiful and healthful, and the work
ingmen enjoy perfect Jualth. The har
bor is excellent and we.l protected, the
highest po nt on tiie island being 1000
feet above the level of the sea.
Canties of Dyspepsia.
The saliva, gastric and pancreatic
juices and bile are produced in very
large quantities, H vend pints of each
daily. Os r»‘.i.s.“. they must bo made
from the blood, and, being continually
absorbed, th- same fluid is ur. 'd over and
over again rift r n portion bus done its
appropriate work. Therefore, it is im
possible for the nee-ssary secretions to
lie made unless there ii nu übuiiduut
supp'y of blood to the organs thus em
ployed. Anything that interferes, with
the blood supply will cause dyspepsia.
If the blood its If is thia an 1 poor in
quality, everything m.i le from it must be
con pondingly defective. In this way,
then, u p >or. ins' lli' ent diet, large losses
<>l blood, profus discharges (ns in con
sumption, etc.), the effects of such poi
sons as that of malaria, lead, mercury
and ol “spccifh di-.eiixcs," act as c u - s f
of dyspepsia. Prolonge 1 mental wo7k,
with s ilentcry habits, lack of bodily '
exercises, and of fresh air und '
sunlight, by dire ting the bloo I to the
brain, lessen th- amount s'nt to the di- i
gi stivo organs an 1 cause dyspepsia. Ex
cessive anxiety, grief, worry or any ab
sorbing emotion acts in the same way.
Fatigue of the muscles by manual labor,
if too prolonged or ex essivo exercise in
amount, pr iduecs similar results. Dis
eases of the heart or lungs, which seri
ously inters re with the passage of tho
blood through the lungs and the taking
up thero of the vitally essential oxygen
of the air, produ o dy-; ‘psia in another
wav. The b'.oi lii prevented from leav
ing the digestive organs; the lut’.cr, in
stead of producing u natural secretion,
pour out a v. ti. ry fluid that is useless so
far ins ai ting up > i tho food is concerned,
and crave digestive troubles follow not
I) . ausc there is any “disease ot' the '
st ini‘.< li," but in consequence of a slow
ing of the bloo I current, which must be
very brisk i. they are to do their full
duty. ~(67. /.?un) Globe Democrat.
Furnl tire Lumber.
Furniture dealers are to-day using lum
ber which was called worthless ten years
ng i. Whitewood or poplar is used in
immense quantities, notwithstanding its
warping qualities. The growing scarci
tv of our natural supply of lumber leads
manufacturers to experiment witli so
called worthless varieties. Cypress is
working into favor for architectural fin
ish, and we would not be surprised if
some enterprising manufacturer should
come out with a most desirable piece of
lurniture, possessing a delicate and finely
marked grain,ami yet consisting of noth
ing but unpretentious cypress. Hani
pine makes a nice looking job when fin
ished in good shape, but has the serious
objection of being full of pitch. Cypress
has much the same appearance of hard
pirn, but the pitch is happily absent.
The wood commonly known ns gum has
<H« n successfully utilized. It is being
worked into a great many forms, despite
its well known warping qualities, w hich
me represented as being so great that
the lumber "will not stay in the same
county tworueec-ive nights." Wo are
informed that picture frames have been
sm ees-fu ly made of gam wood, ami
rumor adds tliat tile very qualities that
have hitherto condemned it have been
v.tili. ■ I in the manufacture of self-nn k
iug cradles. F<»rr*f, b'orye and Farm,
A Missouri Execution.
"Aren't executions a part of your du
tissthat y.>u'd rather dispense withf*
:oked an E* t-.‘ru friend of a Missouri
►her ff.
"1 never |wrfonn any cxectltlons."
“Why. 1 thought nearly all sheriffs
* ere occasionally obliged to hang some
out t"
"You forgot that this is Missouri. All
1 have to do is to make a show of defend
, ing the jail key* and then handing them
over to the boys at la*’. They attend to
eve y thing after that."— Ksteßin* <Z>aX.)
Opportunity.
Be who shuta his eyes repining,
When « shadow dims the day;
Mav not s'* the sunlight ali ning
When the c-iou ls bays passed away. •
Only when the clouds are cloven,
By the tempest passing by—
Is the rain a ith sunshine woven.
Then the ra.nbaw spans the sky.
Monthly Advance.
NONA’S OBEDIENCE.
A lovely afternoon in the spring, when
the balmy air and the fresh, bright toi
lets of the ladies made a gala day even
on Broadway.
Philip Hays stood at his office door,
thoughtfully pulling on his neatly-fitting
gloves. I say "thoughtfully,” because
that word just describes his state of
mind, which was that of halting between
two opinions—whether to go for his
usual uptown stroll, have a comfortable
dinner at the Westminister, and a little
flirtation with Jessie Mabin afterward,
or to cross the river and take a train for
his brother's lovely place in Jersey. He
told himself, as h- was car “fully button
ing his right hand fjlove, that the cher
ries were ripe, and that lie really needed
<» little fresh air and country mi.k.
But he knew of a far better reason
yet, if he would have acknowledged it;
and whnt is more, other people knew it too ■
Brother Will was wise enough to credit I
his pretty siste -in-law with Philip’s re- ■
markable access of fraternal affection,and ■
little Nona Zabriska herself had a shrewd |
guess as to what kind of cherries Mr.
Philip Hays came to the country to I
taste.
Well, on this particular afternoon the
country proved to be finally the more
powerful attraction, and in an hour and
a half after the gloves had been fitted to
a nicety they were taken off again, that
the wearer might clasp the hands of tho
dearest, sweetest, brightest little coun
try maiden that any man with the right
kind of heart or eyes could desire to see.
What Philip said to Nona, and wh it |
Nona said to Philip, the cherry-trees and ■
the evening-star probibly know; but it
was very delightful, and so satisfying
that tho young people camo back to the
house with< ut any cherries at nil, and
presently there was a great deal of hand
shaking and kissing, which ended in a
bottle of champagne and mutual good
wishes.
Well, after this, for a couple of weeks,
tbf.ro was no hesitating at the office door.
Philip said “strawberries” now when
his friends rallied him about his sudden
passion for tho country, and the straw
berry excuse did just as well ns the cher- ,
ries.
But as tho weather grew hotter, the
subject of summer reports became upper
most. Philip's mother and sister were
going to some fashionable Virginian .
springs, and he greatly desired that his ■
little Nona should go with them.
To tell the truth, he did wish she was
a little more stylish, and would put up
her curls, abandou aprons, and dress like
Jessie Mabin did. That would perfectly i
satisfy him, ho thought. Yes, Nona Za- i
briska dresssed like Jessie Mabin would |
leave him nothing to desire.
He went about his plans with that >
tact which young men who have sisters .
easily acquire. A little present from ;
Tiffany’s, and n modest chock “just for
spending-money,’ made his sister Cecelia
sufficiently interested in his project.
"Nona is a dear little girl, Cecelia,"
he said. .“All she wants is a more state
ly manner and stylish dress.”
"If that is what you desire, Philip,
why do you not marry Jessie Mabin? I
thought you liked her well nough."
‘'Because, Cecile, I want a heart inside
the dress—a pure, fresh, loving heart.”
“It seems to me—But her- - Cecile
stopped. She was wise enough to know ;
she would be "throwing words away."
The next d ffieulty was to make Nona
delicately understand his wis es, and in
duce her to accept the invitation sent her
by his mother nn I sister. He approach
ed the subject under the most favorable
circumstances; the moonlight did not
l>etray his confusion, and his encircling
ann held her so close to his heart that he
had no fear of not securing attention
if argument or explanation became neces
sary.
"I am so glad, Nona, that you are
going with Cecile. 1 am sure it will do
you good." And then he stopped and
kissed her for emphasis.
"I go to please you Philip. I am
quite well, thank you.”
"Oh! but I don’t mean about your
health, Nona. You little witch! who
could have such bright eyes and red lips
and not be quite well! I mean about
dress and deportment, and those kind of
things."
There was a little ominous silence, and
then a low. grieved voice: "I don't
think I understand you, Philip.”
"No, dear; and upon the whole I am
glad you have never understood so far.
You see. when we are married we shall
live in the city, and we must behave and
dress as city |MX>pl* do. Cecile will show
you all about it, darling, so don't trouble
your pretty little head."
"I thought you liked me just as I am,
Philip. What is wrong in the city that
i» proper and pretty in the country, will
you tell met"
“Certainly, Nona. Your loose flowing
h .ir and short dresses, and your frank,
familiar ways, all so perfectly charming
just here, would occasion remarks and
unpl> asant criticisms in the city. I want
my little girl to be as fashionable and as
stylish as—as—well, as Jessie Mabin.”
"Ah! she is your ideal, is she!”
Much more to the same purpose, min
gled with kisses and compliments, was
said, but nothing in it deceived the
wounded woman’s heart. For Nona,
though not a fashionable woman, was a
true woman, nevertheless, and under
stood not only whnt had beeu said, but
also all that had been left to be inferred.
It was not possible for him to leave his
business entirely, Lut it had been ar
ranged that once a month ho was to pay
a few day’s visit to the springs, and in
the intervals be refreshed and comforted
by regular and plentiful supplies of let
ters.
The supply was pretty fair the first
week, but fell off gradually afterward,
Until several days passed without any
token of Nona’s faith and memory. Still
be did not feel much troubled. He
thought he quit: understood Nona’s rea
sons, and at any rate he relied witli im
plicit confidence on the < fleet w hich
Philip Hnys in his own proper person
eoiild not fnil to make.
This confidence did not agree with
events. He arrived nt the springs and
found Nona out driving wit i Jack Chris
tie—a young man whom he particularly
disliked for his pretentious manners. He
was on tiie piazza when they returned,
und he was certain Nona saw him, though
she kept her eyes on Jack’s face, and i
pretended the greatest interest in his
foolish conversation; for of two things
Philip was certain—first, that her inter
est was pretended, and second, that Jack’s
conversation was foolish.
Then he felt unaccountably and, as he
very well knew, unreasonably chilled by
the greeting of the splendidly dressed
Nona, who calmly and nonchalantly ex
tended the tips of her gloved fingers to
him, draw ling out the while a pretty lit
tle assurance of being “so glad to see
Mr. Hays,” with the information that
"Cecile had been expecting him since
the early m rning train.”
“Cecile!” he said, reproachfully.
“And you too, Nona?”
"Oh dear no, Mr. Hays. It is quite
too exhausting to expect anything. One
at a time is quite sufficient.”
Philip was shocked and silenced for
the time. For one distressing half-hour
he tried to assume his rights as her be- |
trothed, but she kept Jack Christie ner- I
sistently between them; and so, angry
and hurt, he sought his sister Cecile.
"Cecile,” he said, “what a change
there is in Nona! What is the cause?”
“A wonderful change! I never saw a
gir. improve so rapidly. I suppose you
are the cause. Do you know that she is
really the belief Jack Christie and Ed.
Forsyth and half a dozen others are rav
ing about her. Positively they are,
Phil.”
“Very kind of them, but—”
“Well, so it is, you know. Very
first families, and all that kind of
thing, you know. Upon my
word, brother, I believe Nona will make
a sensation next winter. Mamma is
quite satisfied uow.”
But Philip was not. No, not at all.
Very fur from it. That night at the hop
Nona looked lovely and grand enough
for a queen, her golden hair arranged in
some picturesque style, which Jack
Christie audnb'.y declared to be “just
the thing,” yards of satin an 1 lace mak
ing a track of glory behind her, anil
gold ar.d jewels flashing from her
head, her throat, and her wrists.
All in vain, however, Philip pleaded
for a dance. Nona hud been engnged
for every set since breakfast, and she
reminded him rather maliciously of the |
necessity of conforming to the usages of ;
society. So he had the satisfaction of
watching the social triumph of the fu
ture Mis. Hays.
Three miserable days of continual
disappointment and then Philip deter
mined to go back to Nvw York, and see
Nona no more until she returned to her
country home.
He bade his mother ami Cecile good
by, and gave the regulation kiss to
Nona, who received it with perfect
placidity and many kind wishes for his
pleasant journey ; for, as he was to leave
very early in the morning, the ladies did
not expect to sec him again before his
departure.
A* they passed out of the parlors Nona
turned a momen’, ami n flush of the old
tenderness made her face beautiful, her
lips parted, and she hesitated a moment
as if she would speak, but finally passed
on and away.
Pocr Philip! He took his cigar and
sit down on the dark, silent bnlcony,
miserable enough; but in about half an
hour a timid little figure stole through
1 the deserted room, and without warn
| ing laid her hand upon his shoulder.
| He turned rapidly, all the great passion,
which had grown to deeper intensity in
his suffering, bursting out in one im
ploring whisper of "Nona!”
"Philip!"
Well, you know the end. Philip did
not like the fashionable Nona at nil; his
whole heart cried out for the sweet, nat
ural girl that he had never prized enough
till he believed her gone forever. The
tangled curls, the short dresses, ev»* the
little ruffled aprons, never more looked
homely ia his eyes.
Bver afterward he bad the m Mt ’ ■■ >lc
some fear of Nona turning fashionable;
and she to this day, when Philip i» i“
the “opposition,” reminds him of his ona
experiment in managing women, and as
sures him that in thejlong run he wouil
not like his own way if he got it, and so
he takes hers, which, after all, 1 have no
doubt,is the most sensible thing ha can
do. — Harper'e Weekly.
Crow and King Birds.
Crows arc loved neither by farmers nor
by other birds. “All a crow is good for,’’
said a Norwich (Conn.) farmer, is to hang
up by the feet in a cornfield and skceroil
other crows with.” It is un unsettled
question whether crows love best to suck
other birds’ eggs or pull up young corn.
Spunky little king birds arc their most
dreaded foes. They are not so big as a
rob n, but tiiey have long sharp bills and
arc- full of fight. They arc the natural
watchmen of the fields. Even cats anc
dogs are afraid of them, and the mere
sight of one balancing himself on the
top of a bar post or on the cone of a
mullein will make a crow to quake and
flounder away to the woods with absurd
manifestation of prodigious terror. King
birds had rather fight for feathered
friends than for their own sake. A few
days ago at East Great Plain, in this
town, a couple of king birds caught a
crow breaking eggs in a robin’s nest in
an orchard. It was half a mile to the
woods, and the crow knew as soon as he
saw his enemies that he was in for the
bitterest experience of his life. He
flapped heavily into the air, and his
bitter foes went at him. They slugged
him in the head only, pecking at his eyes
on cither side, and in a few moments one
of his eyes was closed or destroyed, and
he floundered about in the air like a
steamboat without a rudder. He had
not gone more than thirty rods before he
had to tumble to the ground in a mea
dow to gain a breating spell. On the
ground his assailants could not get at his
head so well, but they made the feathers
fly from his back. Again he arose, and
as he winged across the valley, driving
up and down and plunging and half
turning his big body in the air, all the ,
little birds in the neighborhood—robins,
bluebirds, wrens, sparrows and ground
birds—gathered and chaffed and mock
ed him. He was forced to drop to the '
ground two or three times before he got
away from his foes. As he passed over !
a dusty road at the edge of the woods, :
flying not more than thirty feet high,
three big splashes of blood fell on the
clear sand. Every feather had been
pecked from his head, and the expres
sion in his swollen and bloody visage in
dicated repentance and a resolve never to
steal eggs again. The kingbirds kept at
him until he flopped through the thick
branches of a spreading chestnut, and
then tin y turned back, evidently satisfi
ed that he would never be much of a crow
thereafter. They could not get at him in
the foliage of the forest. They alighted
on a fence rail, and as they cleaned their
bills of blood and feathers the other lit
tle birds ce e (rated with song the tri- !
umphant termination of the aerial mill.
—.V. 1”. Sun.
The Fish of the Jordan.
The most characteristic fishes of the
Lake of Galilee belong to the family of
Chromidae, three species of which are .
figured in Dr. Tristram's work. Chromis
Tiberiadis is peculiar to the Jordan and
its affluents alone. It is found in the
most amazing numbers from the Lake
Huleh to the head of the Dead Sea. “It
is by far the most abundant of all the
species in the lakes.” “I havesecn them,”
continues Dr. Tristram, “in shoals of
ovea an acre in extent, so closely packed
that it seemed impossible for them to
move, and will) their dorsals fins above
the water, giving at a distance the ap
pearance of a tremendous shower patter
ing on one spot of the surface of the
glassy lake. They are taken both in
boats and from the shore by nets run
deftly round and enclosing what one may
call a solid mass at one swoop and very
often the net breaks. They are also tak
en in large quantities by poisoned crumbs
thrown from tiie shore on to the surface
of the water. By casting nets hundreds
are often taken at once.” When they
reach the Dead Sea, which they do in
thousands, they do not get further than
a few yards when they become stupefied
and turn over on thcr backs, “while cor
morants and kingfishers perched on the
snags of floating logs gorge themselves
without effort, and often heaps of putre
fying carcasses washed on tiie shore poi
son the atmosphere and afford a plenteous
feast to the ravens and vultures.”— Edin.
burg Review.
In the Jewelry Trade;
Magistrate (to new policeman)—Did
you notice no suspicious characters about
the neighborhood ?
New Policeman—Shure, yer Honor, 1
saw but one mon an’ I asked him what
he was doin’ there at that time o’ night.
Sezhe:"lhave no business here just
now, but I expect to open a jewelry
store in this vicinity later on.” At that
Iscz: "I wish you success, sorr.”
Magistrate (disgusted)—Yes, and he
did open a jewelry store in that vicinity
and stole seventeen gold watches.
New Policeman (after a pause) B.■-
gorra, yer Honor, the mon may have
l>een a thafc, but he was no loiar. .Ve«
York Herald.
UHILDKEX’S COLUMN.
Alphabet of a llonte.
A was an Architect shilled in his trade,
B was the Building he lately had made.
C was the Coping le put on the stone,
D was the Dynamite—best let alone.
E was the Entrance ball, spacious and gay
F the Front door which stood open by day.
G was the Garden where frui. did abound,
H was the Hedge which fenced it all round.
I was the Image which stool in the hall,
J was the Jackass which brayed by the wall.
K was the Kitchen for baking and stewing,
L was the Border where cook won’t have you
in.
M was fie Master, w th lots of fine 'adiei,
N was the Nursery, built for the 1 abies.
O was th > Orchard, a l full of fine trees.
P was the Pantry, for bread and for cheese.
Q was the Quarter for lumber to lay,
P, was the Room for the children to play.
8 was tl e Staircase all winding up high,
T was tho Tower looking out on the sky.
U was the Underground cellar for beer,
V was the Vine ou the summer-house near.
W was the Well where tho water was laid,
X was tho Excellent drink that it made.
Y was the Youth who these lines did compose
Z was the Zany he pulled by the nose.
Rev. James L ildyard.
A Clever Humxninc-Dirc!.
I'll tell you how a clever humming
bird shielded her little ones from the
rain. There they were, a nestfull, and
the rain beginning to fall. The people
who had watched the nest out of their
window were concerned about the young
birds, but the mother-bird evidently was
prepared for the emergency. Near the
nest grew a large leaf—it was a butter
nut tree, —and on one side of tho nest a
small twig stuck out. When the drops
began to fall, she came quickly, and with
many tugs pulled the leaf over the little
nest, for a roof, and hooked it bv the
twig on the other side, which held it
firmly.
Thus the half-feathered babies were
kept as dry under their green roof as if
their house had been built by a carpen
ter, like the sparrow-houses all around on
the trees.
When the rain was over, the mother
came back and unhooked tho leaf.—
St. Nicholas.
A Strangej’ Visit.
That is what Dotty calls it to this day.
You see, she was out driving with
mamma, and a sudden shower came up;
and because there wasn’t time
to get home, mamma called at tho first
house.
It wasn’t a very iargo house, and it
was painted'red, all but the end toward
the road. That was painted white. Dot
ty found time to xvonder about it a good
deal xvhile old Charley was jogging up
the lane.
"I s’pose there wasn’t any more
red at the store," said she. “’Relse
they thought folks would only look at
the face end. What doyou s’pose,mam
ma?”
But mamma didn’t suppose anything
about it. She hurried old Charley along
as fast as she could, but the first big
drops had begun to fall before they were
a l safe under cover. Then a minute more
it was raining rivers.
There were no little girls or boys lived
in the red house, and Dotty felt th s to
be a trial. But there was a man, and a
women with funny glasses on, and a
grown-up girl, and a grandma who told
stories, and before long Dotty felt very
well acquainted indeed.
The shower lasted a long while—until
after supper. D >tty was glad of this.
There was a pumpkin-pie on the table,
and Dotty liked pumpkin-pic, the way
mamma made it, but this vzasn’t
made quite as mamma makes pies.
It was sweetened with molasses instead ol
sugar, and spiced with ginger instead of
lemon. Dotty’s second mouthful wasn’t
so big as the first. The grown-up girl
smiled.
"Isn’t your pie good?” she asked.
Dotty blushed. She was a very truth
ful little girl, but she wanted to be
polite. She looked at mamma, but
mamma wasn’t paying any attention. She
looked at. the grown-up girl.
“It—it’s almost good,” said she.
Then how they all laughed—every
body but mamma, who felt for a minute
ns if she would like to shake Dotty. Anu
the grown-up girl pnt down a little plate
of nice white honey in jilace of the pie.
“See if that isn’t quite good, ” said she.
“And it was!” said Dotty, telling the
story to grandma. "Just the goodest I
ever tasted of. They’re real nice folks,
gramma, and they live in a red house
xvith a white face, 1 ke our cow, and I'm
going again, ’cause they asked me to.
That was a good stranger visit, gramma.
“Almost good,” laughed mamma.
Youth's (,'ompanion.
Changing the Voice.
As the result of an experimental in
quiry, Dr. Sandras, a physician of Paris,
claims to be able to change the nature,
intensity, pitch and extent of the voice
in a surprising degree by the use of dis
ferent inhalations. A few inspirations
of vapor impart r. decided hoarseness,
some vapors weaken the voice, while
others strengthen it to such an extent
that it acquires new notes, high and low.
If tie same effects are produced upon
people generally, this curious discovery
must prove of great prac ical value to
public shakers, singers, and all who use
Ike voice considerably.
It costs Maine yearly about S3OOO iu
bounties for beass,