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The DeKalb News DECATUR, GEORGIA. THE SAWDUST OPEIla The Circus mut n fciv Notes About It that • Will interest the Roy-. A veteran circus mau says: New York State was the “original” State for the “circus,” a Stae that has produced, with Connecticut and Wisconsin, the greatest number of circus men. The first clown of any nee unit appeared in Now York at the Old Bowery Amphi¬ theatre. He was called John Gossin, and was of the order known as the knock about clown. Seth Howes introduced the American style of circus printing into England aud made a big stir in London by it. Some of the circus clowns were really educated men who took an odd liking to circus life. Nat Austin could speak three languages and one good clown, William Stout, had been educated for the minis¬ try. But as a rule the circus clowns had more talent than education, and moro shiftlessness than even talent. Among the former clowns of the olden time were Nat Austin, Bill Worrell, father of the Worrell sisters; Joe Pent land, Gardner, Sam Latlirop, Billy Fay, F. Arthur Nelson, Dr. James Thayer, Wallet and Dan Rice. Of these perhaps Wallett was really the best, and Dan Rice made his reputation chiefly by imi¬ tating Wallett, Old Seth was very fond of his boyhood’s home, and the first thing he did with his money was to rebuild the old place, using as much of the original timber and iron as be could. Old Seth had two twiu nephews who were wonderfully alike, both in the show business, and often mistaken the one for the other. Bailey, the partner of Barnum, hadn’t the slightest idea of entering the show business’till he fell in love with the pret¬ tiest- girl iu Connecticut, a Miss Turner, whose father was a circus man. Bailey marrying the lady, became a partner of the father in business as well as of tho lady .in life, nnd thus got from being a country clerk in Danbury to being the biggest showman but one in the United States. The first circus in this country started from Putnam county, N. Y., and had neither tents nor seats nor show printing nor advance agent. The first circus tent was put up in New York city, at the corner of the Bowery nnd Grand street, which was then considered far out of town. This tent was hailed with an im¬ mense amount of enthusiasm, though not over one-fifth the size of the circus tents in vogue-to-day. When a lion tamer does his great act which looks so perfectly horrible to the audience, of putting his head in the lion’s mouth, he takes, unsuspected by the audience, a lion's precaution which renders it against the natural instinct as well as his comfort to hurt him. He holds the lionts tongue so that if he tried to hurt him he would certainly hurt him¬ self. He pulls the flesh from the lion’s jaws right over the lion’s teeth, and if the beast were to try to bite him he would have to bite his own flesh. The lion seeiug this and valuing his own comfort, naturally prefers leaving the man unhurt to hurting himself. The Doctor’s Revenge. A Talc of Kent l.lfc Down in Texas. At Texarkana, says a newspaper cor¬ respondent, writing from Texas, we met a gentleman who would make a good study for a novel. It was a doctor, who used to live at Lincoln, Ill., and whose brother is now the postmaster at Mount Pulaski, He is one of the most original and entertaining characters I ever met, and is engaged in acting the leading part in a comedy from one day to an¬ other. He is a large landowner, and a man public-spirited, of considerable wealth, energetic and but has a way of do¬ ing the natives. things that does the doctor not always is generally please But sharp enough to take care long of himself in peace or in war. Not ago he was in a row with the town, and got the worst of it. He took his revenge in a manner that was both original and effec¬ tive. He got a large quantity lie of white sign-boards, on which had painted in large black letters references to Scrip¬ ture passages. During the night he took a step-ladder and nailed them up in On conspicuous places door, all over the town. the court-house on the fences, on the telegraph poles, and on the dead walls, when morning came, the aston¬ ished citizens beheld such legends as “SeedRomana xii., 10,” “See Acts v., 20,” “See Job xv., 14,” “See IL Corin¬ thians ix,, 7,” “See Romans xii., 17-18.” Never was there such a demand for bibles in Texarkana before, and never since. Men were going around the streets with the Holy Word in their hands, hunting up the passages referred to, aud when they read on the sign¬ board: “And now, O, Lord, look upon their threatenings, and grant unto Thy servant to speak with ail boldness, "they knew it was tho doctor’s way of rebuk¬ ing them. And when they saw staring them in the face the words: “Bat though I be rude in sptcc i, yet am I not in knowledge, and ye do well to bear with me,” they regarded the forcible. sug¬ gestion os very appropriate and For weeks these sign-boards were the talk of the town. Returned.— The London newspapers are pitching into Miss Fortescue as an actress, returned now the that the poor, jilted girl has to stage. The Times says that her acting is colorless and empty. The Standard says that stiffness and constraint spoiled her performance. Still she might have made a very respectable wife for a noodle such as Garmoyle. A Georgia man climbed three flights of stairs to whip an editor, and came down on half the lightning-rod his body. with his clothes tom from He al¬ ways subscribes for the paper in advance now. How to catoh a husband—Grab him ty the hair. LIFE'S WINTERS. We did not fear them once; the dull gray morn¬ ings, No cheerless burden on our spirits laid ; The long night watches did not bring us warn¬ ings ’ That wo were tenants of a house decayed. The early snows like dreams to us descended. The frost did fairy work on pane and bough; Beauty, and power, and wonder, have not ended— How is it that we fear the winters now ? Their home fires fall as bright on hearth and chamber, Their Northern starlight shines as coldly clear; The woods still keep their holly for December, The world a welcome yet for the new year. And far away in old remembered places The snow-drop rises and the robin sings ; The sun and moon look out with loving faces; Why have our days forgot these g*odly things ? Why is it now the north wind finds us shaken By tempest fiercer than its hitler blast, Which fair beliefs and friendships, too, have taken Away like summer foliage as they passed ; And made life leafless in its pleasant valleys, Waning the light of promise from our day Till the mists meet even in the inward palace, A dimness not like theirs to pass away V It was not thus when dreams of love and laurels Gave sunshine to the winters of our youth, Before its hope- - , had fallen in fortune's quar¬ rels, Or time had bowed them with his heavy truth ; Ere yet the twilights found ns strange and lonely, With shadows coming when the lire burns low, To tell the distant graves and losses only; The past that cannot change and will not go. Alas ! dear friends, the winter is within us, Hard is the ice that grows about the heart, With petty cares and vain regrets that win us From lite's true heritage and better part. Seasons and skies rejoice, yea, worship rather ; But nations toil and tremble even as we, Hoping for harvests they will never gather ; Fearing the winters which they may not see Fuaxcis Brown. Bainbridge & Son. There was a suppressed murmur of conversation in the drapery dressmaking depart¬ ment Messrs. of the Bainbridge large establishment of & Son which the stir of a hundred sewing machines could not feminine wholly drown. found, Where the presence can be be sure the tongue feminine will be heard. The superintendent of the room, un¬ derstanding this, did not attempt to en¬ force silence, so pretty Dollio Wynn and May Bruton talked very confidentially in their corner of the great room; and no one interfered, so long as fingers were busy as well as tongues. And this is wliat May said, Dollie’s blue eyes being riveted upon the quilt¬ ing on which she was at work: “I saw her yesterday when I was going out to dinner. She was just stepping into her carriage, and Mr. Edgar him¬ self handing her in. She looks old— nearly forty, I should say; but they say she is immensely rich, and her dress was splendid. So 1 suppose her money goes against her age.” “Did yon hear they were to be mar¬ ried soon ?” “Bless me! didn't I tell you that? the My wedding-cards brother is in the stationer’s where They he are being printed. are to married on the 27th. Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Bainbridge, and the card of the bride’s mother, Mrs. William Wilson. Twelve! Come; we will go for a walk.” “No, I am tired,” Dollie pleaded. And her friend left her, never heeding the Biidden pallor of the sweet young face, the dumb agony in the great blue eyes. When she was alone Dollie stole away to the little room where the cloaks, shawls and hats of the girls were kept, and there, crouching in a corner, hidden entirely by all a huge waterproof, she tried to think it out. What had it meant? What did Edgar Bainbridge mean in the long year he had tried by every masculine device to win her love. She had not been unmaidenly ; heart and conscience fully acquitted her. fehe had , , given . , her love, pure, true and faithful, to the son delicately of her employer; but he had sought it, and persist¬ ently, before he knew that it was given him. The young girl, now sewing for a liv¬ ing, had been daintily bred and thor¬ oughly educated, her father having been his a man drawing a salary sufficient to give when only child his every wife in advantage. But he died, a few months following him, Dollie had chosen a life of honorable labor in preference to one of idle dependence upon wealthy rela¬ tives. And yet in the social gatherings of these relatives and the friends of sum¬ mer days, Dollie was still a welcome guest. It was at her Uncle Lawrence’s sub¬ urban villa she had been introduced to Edgar Bainbridge. After this she met dress, him frequently, and in her simple with her sweet, pure face, had wou marked attention from him. With the frankness that was one of her greatest charms the young girl had let her admirer know that though Bhe was Lawrence Wynn’s dressmaking niece she worked for a living in the depart¬ ment of Bainbridge & Son. Then he had made her heart bound with he had sudden, her grateful leave joy by “shop” telling night her seen the after night, but would not join her for fear of giving annoyance by exposing her to the remarks of her companions. After this, however, she often found him waiting for her at some joint further from the establishment, and she always so glad respectful of his and protection courteous in that her was long walk. But he was going to marry an heiress on the 27th, only a week away, so he had but trifled with her after all. Poor Little Dollie, orouching among the shawls and cloaks, felt as if all sun¬ shine was gone from her life forever, as if her cup of humiliation and agony was full to overflowing. But the dinner-hour was over, the girls coming in or sauntering from resting places in the work-room, and the hum of work commenced again, as it must, whatever aching hearts or weary hands orave rest. Dollie worked with the rest, her feel¬ ings so numbed by the sudden blow Unit she scarcely heard May’s lamenta¬ tion over the sudden flood of over-work that would keep many of them iu the room till midnight. “We’ll have all day to-morroiv if we can finish these dresses to-night," said one of the small squad of girls told off for the extra work, “Miss Brown says so. But these must be ready to deliver in the morning.” Talk, talk, talk ! Whir, whir, whir ! Dollie folded and basted, worked with rapid, mechanical precision, hearing the noise of voices and machines, feeling the dull, heavy beating of her own heart and the throbs of pain in her weary head, but speaking no word of repining, ex¬ headache. cusing her pallid face by the plea of It was after 11 o’clock when the last stitch was set iu the hurried work and the girls ran down the long flights of rain, stairs to plod homo through a drizzling following the late snow-storm. As Dollie passed down the staircase she saw in the counting-house her re¬ cent lover, busy over some account books. ' But for the heavy news she had heard that morning she would have felt sure that this sudden spasm of industry was to furnish an excuse for escorting her home at the unusually late hour. But, if so, Dollie felt it was but an added insult to his dishonorable con¬ duct, and she hurried on, hoping he had not heard her step. She had gone some few streets from the shop, when, passing a church, she slipped upon a treacherous piece of ice and twisted her ankle. The sudden pain made her faint for a moment and she sat. down upon the stonework supporting the her, railings to re¬ cover herself. Beside not a stone’s throw away, a dark, narrow alleyway ran along the high brick wall of the churchyard, with chill and the girl’s heart Bank a of terror as she heard a man’s voice in the alley say: “Didn’t you hear a step, Bill?” “A woman. She's turned off some¬ where. He aint come yet,” was the answer. “He’s late to-night," said the first voice, in a gruff undertone. “You are surehe’s taking the diamonds home?” “Sure as death. I was at-’s when he gave the order. ‘Send them to my shop at 9 o’clock,’ says he, ’and I will take them homo with me.’ And he gave tho address of Bainbridge & Sou.” “But are you sure he will pass here ?” “Of course he will. He lives in tho next street. He’ll come.” “Suppose he shows fight?” “You hold him, and I’ll soon stop his fight.” Every word fell on Dollie’s _ ears clear. and distinct in the silence of the night. They would rob him, these dreadful men. if nobody warned him. They would spriDg out upon him as he passed, and strike him down before he knew there was danger. He must not come alone, unprepared. False lover, false friend as she felt he was, she could not go on her way and leave him to death. When she stood up the pain of her ankle was almost unendurable; but she clung to the railing and so limped along one street. The others seemed inter minable. Often she crawled through the slush of the streets; often on one foot hopped painfully along, last, aud till the light shop in was the reached at the counting-house still burned. The side door for the working-girls was still unfastened, and Dollie entered there, reachiug the counting-house soak¬ ing wet, white and trembling, to con¬ front both Edgar Bainbridge and his father. Unheeding their exclamations of dis¬ may and surprise, she told her story with white lips but a steady voice. “Waiting for me?” cried Edgar Bain bridge. “The scoundrels 1” “You bought diamonds at-’s to¬ day?” asked his father. “A parure for Miss Wilson, sir. 1 w i 8 h to present them, with your per mission, on Thursday. Ah, look at that poor For, girl 1” fatigue and overcome by pain, meDtal torture, poor Dollie had stag¬ gered toward the door and fainted upon the floor. A hasty call summoned the porter and in a few minutes the porter’s wift appeared, rubbing her eyes, but full oi womanly resources for the comfort o' the girl. A cab was procured, and clothed it dry garments, furnished by the good hearted woman, and, escorted by tin porter, Dollie was driven home. be The impossible, next morning walking proved tc and Dollie was obliged t< call upon her landlady for assistance t< caring dress, wondering at herself a little foi to get up. But before noon, sitting in the parlor, her lame ankle upon a cushion, she was snprised by two gentlemen callers—nc other than Bainbridge and son in person —and a lady who introduced herself at Miss Wilson. “We have all come to thank you,” the lady said, “and I have come to carry you home with me. These gentlemen owe you their lives; I owe you my dia monds.” “But what did you do?” asked Dollie. “We captured the robbers by a mas¬ terly stratagem,” said the old gentleman. with “Edgar sauntered past the alley-way a revolver all ready in his hand, while I, with three policeman, went round and entered the alley softly behind the villains. Taken by surprise, theii retreat cut off, they were easily made prisoners. You understand, we could not arrest them unless they actually at¬ tacked Edgar. As it is, however, there was a very pretty little tussle before we came up. Bless me, dear child—don’t faint—he’s all right 1” sprained “My foot I” Dollie murmured, “I my ankle last night. It was to stop to rest it that I sat down on the church wall.” “Yon didn’t come all the way back with a sprained ankle ?” “Yes, sir.” “You are a heroine !” cried Miss Wil son. “Bnt, my dear,” aud ' ere the heiress drew nearer to Dollie and took her hand in a close clasp, “we have been hearing this morning a pretty little love story, of which you also are the heroine, and 1 have come to see if you will be my guest Edgar until Thursday, and then make poor there the happiest of men by assisting at a double wedding.” Dollie’s eyes, slowly dilating as the other lady spoke, this were climax open to their f ulli st extent as was reached. “Edgar !” she said. “I thought he was to many you on Thursday ?” A musical laugh answered her. Calling the gentlemen at the same time from tho window, where they had sauntered during this little scene, Miss Wilson looked up at them. “Convince this young lady, Edgar,” she said, “that your affection for me is only that of a dutiful son, and that I shall have a motherly affection for her likewise, when I become the wife of your father, And then Edgar Edgar Cambridge, senior.” chair took the his step mother-elect vacated, while the elder lady aud gentleman went outside to arrange a cushion in the carriage for the sprained ankle. What Edgar said "may be imagined; but certain it is that Dollie drove home with Miss Wilson, and was that lady’s guest until the following Thursday, when her wedding-cards, too, were distributed, and the bridal party consisted of two bridegrooms and two fair, blushing brides. SALARIES OF PUBLIC MEN. Uncle Sam iuid His Army of Assistants— What They Have to Live On. The Admiral of the United States Navy has a salary of $13,000 a year, whether at sea or on shore. Other offi¬ cers have less when on shore. Vice admirals at sea get $9,000 a year, rear admirals $6,000. commodores $5,000, commanders $3,500, lieutenants, senior grille $2,100, ensigns $1,200 to $1,400, and cadets $950. The pay of officers in the army in¬ creases in proportion to the time they have been in the service. Geueral Sheri¬ dan for the first five years of service will get $13,500 a year; a lieutenant-general gets $11,000 a year, a major-general $7,500, a brigadier-general $5,000, a colonel $3,500, a major $2,500, a mounted lieutenant captain $2,000, and a second $1,500. Senators and Representatives get $8 a day, and the Speaker of the Houso and President pro tem. of the Senate $16 per day. In the first Congress the pay was $6 a day for members of both Houses, and in two years of John Adam’s term as President Senators received $7 and Representatives SC per diem. In 1815 it was members changed to $1,500 per annnm for of both Houses, and in 1817 to $8 per day. The Clerk of the House and the Sec retary of the Senate each get$5,000 a year, as do the stenographers in Con gress, the two Comptrollers of the ..Tjswaurv, Customsand a number Commanders of Surveyors of the of the navy. Pension agents get $1,000 a year, the Civil Service Commissioners $3,500, the two Assistant Attorney-Generals $5,000, eight Justices of the Supreme Court $10,000, nine Judges of Circuit Courts $6,000 and fifty-three Judges of United States District Courts from $3,500 to $1,500. Besides the mission to St. Petersburg the only other American Ministers who get $17,500 a year are Our those at Paris 1 , London and Berlin. embassadors and to Spain, Japan Austria, Mexico, Italy, Brazil get $12,000 a year. Those to Chili, Peru, Uruguay, Gantemala, Costa Rica, Honduras, Nicaragua and Salvador get $10,000, and those to Portugal, Belgium, Sweden and Norway, Den mark, eral Turkey, Havti, Greece and sev¬ South American countries get $7,500. The Consuls General to Lon¬ don, Paris, Havana and Rio Janeiro get $6,000 a year, and there are 175 Consuls who receive from $1,000 to $5,000 a year. j Kamel Smith’s Hospitality. There was a party of four or five of us from Cheneyville, La., to look over a by sugar the plantation, and we had dismounted roadside to drink at a spring and rest a bit under the shade, when along came a native on a mule. As he drew up and looked us over we saw that he was armed with shot-gun, revolver and knife, had and the eyes under his old hat a bad expression. “I reckon you gents haint bound over to Kumel Smith’s place ?” he said as he surveyed “Reckon ns. we just are that,” answered our “How spokesman. soon?” “Right away.” “Say, Gineral, will ve do me a favor?' “I reckon.” “Sot here fur about halt an hour, and , then don’t hurry. The Kumel and I have had a little furse, and I’m going to .git the drop on him. Reckon you don’t care to mix in?” “Reckon not, and if these gents is agreed we’ll give you time.” We didn’t raise any particular objec¬ tion, and the wayfarer passed on at a gallop. By and by we followed at a slow pace, but made no discovery until we reached Smith’s place. The “Kur nel” was at the gate with a rifle leauing against the fence, and as he came out and shook hands our guide asked: “Been any furse around here, Kumel?” “Nothin’ to speak of, thank ye.” “Didn’t see a fellow on a mewl come this way ?” “Well, that somebody did come along an’ fill ’ere gate post full o’ buck-shot, an’ I sent a bullet through his ole hat to teach him not to be so keerless; but git off yer hosses an’ come in—come right in an’ make yerselves to hum.”—Detroit Free Press. The Chinese of ^New York city have proved that they have some bowels of compassion for their suffering country¬ men. In answer to an appeal from the old country, calling for aid for the victims of great floods near Canton, $45,000 was raised there in a few days. Several Chinese merchants subscribed $2,000 each. TI1E FIRST ICE-PALACE. Built by the Finprem Anna Ivnnovnn* or the Neva, 1730* In the construction of this work the simplest means were used. First, the purest and most transparent ice was se¬ lected. This was out into large blocks, squared with rule and compass, and carved with all the regular architectural embellishments. No cement was used. Each block when ready was raised to its destined place by crimes and pulleys, and just before it was let down upon the block which was to support it, walyr was poured between the two; the upper block was froze immediately almost lowered, aud as the water instantly, in that intensely cold climate, the two blocks became building literally one. In fact, the whole appeared to be, and really -,vas, a single mass of ice. The effect it pro¬ duced must have been infinitely more beautiful than if it had been of the most costly marble—its transparency and bluish tint giving it rather the appear¬ ance oE a precious stone. In dimensions, the structure was fifty six feet long, eighteen feet wide, twenty one feet high, and with walls three feet in thickness. At each corner of the pal¬ ace the was a pyramid of the same height as roof, of course built of ice, and around the whole was a low palisade of the same material. The actual length of the front view, including the pyra-* mids, was one hundred and fourteen feet. The palace was built in the usual style of Russian architecture. The facade was plain, being merely divided into compartments window by pilasters. There was a in each division, which was painted in imitation of green marble. The window-panes were formed of slabs of ice, as transparent and smooth as sheets of plate-glass. At night, when the palace was lighted, the windows were curtained by canvassed screens, on which grotesque figures were painted. Owing to the transparency of the whole material, the general effect of the illumi¬ nation must have been fine, the whole palace delicate seemingly light. being filled with a pearly The central divis¬ ion projected, and appeared to be a door, but was, in fact, a large window, and was illuminated like the others. Sur¬ mounting the facade of the building was an ornamental balustrade, and at each end of the sloping roof was a huge ch'imney. The entrance tjie was at the rear. At each side of door stood ice imi¬ tations of orange-trees, in leaf and flow¬ er, with ice-birds perched on the branches.— SI. Nicholas for April, AN ACTOR BAGGED. An Amusing Story of it Burn Storming Com¬ pany Out West. “Speaking of traps reminds me of a kittle incident that happened a few years i-go in a little. Michigan town. Miss Blanche de Bar and a moderately tart company were hunting fickle fortune in towns more or less not on the map. They struck one place that had an en¬ tirely new hall, and opened it with a per¬ formance of The Hidden Hand. When their carpenter came to cut the trap in the stage for ‘Black Dan’—or whatever his name is—to fall into when Capitola presses her foot on the spring in the floor, he was astonished to see that he had cut right through into the store be¬ low, which belonged to the owner of the hall! The owner, a Jolly, good-natured, ready sort of a chap, came up, and find¬ ing that the trap was necessary for the play, said : ‘All right, you go ahead and cut it. I’ll fix it up some wav so that it will be all right for to-night.’ He and the carpenter did fix it up, in some way best known to themselves, while the rest of the company went away until time for the performance. In the evening the carpenter told them : ‘Look out for those boards over the trap under the carpet, and don’t kick them away, or you will leave the trap open. When the time comes I’ll take ’em away, and all “Black Dan” will have to do will be to step forward on the space, and the car¬ pet will give way with him.’ As he said, so it was done. When Capitola put her foot on the imaginary spring, and ‘Black Dan’ took a step toward her threateningly than he flash. dropped There out of sight quicker a was a mo¬ ment’s silence, and then up from that trap howls, came ejaculations a volley of half-smothered of profane amaze¬ ment, and wild yells of ‘Where am I ?’ that were not in the play. They rang down the curtain and investigated. The ingenious landlord and carpenter had nailed securely in the trap by its mouth a huge wool sack, about fourteen feet long. he When the actor went through the trap and dropped clear to the bottom of it, there he was swinging like a pendulum cated, in the darkness, half suffo¬ and frightened almost to death.” Depending Too Much on a Dog. Rooney owns His the ugliest yellow dog in Austin. friends often joked him about the brute, and suggested that he should drown him or choke him to death with butter. But Rooney would wink and say, “Niver you moind; that’s the saygaciousest pup in Texas. ” After many a wild debate at a ward meeting, Rooney had staggered home followed by his faithful dog. It was his custom send to yellow cautiously open the door and his dog in as an advance guard. It the pup came back hurriedly, accompanied by a howl, and a poker or a saucepan, Rooney retreated and slept in the wood-shed. On account of these services Rooney became much attached to his dog. The poet has said, “There’s nothing true but Heaven. ” One night last week Rooney came home after an animated discussion with some of his countrymen as to the expediency of using dynamite “to intimidate the toyrants.” He ap¬ proached the door cautiously, listened at the keyhole, and then whispered, as he opened the door, “Iu wid yez.” The dog thrust his tail between his legs and sneaked in. A dead silence of several minutes followed. Then Rooney soliloquized. “It’s a’slape she is, I’m thinkin’,” and he entered. Next morning when he met his friend Mulcahy, “Man alive, the latter Rooney, said : did you fall off the scaffold. Ye look all broke up. How did you get that face, anyhow ?” “I got it,” said Rooney, sadly. “I got it, Mulcaliy. me frind, by puttin’ mo depindence in the snggaciousness av a dirty yaller dog.”— Texas Siftings . NOTES BY THE WAY. The German Admiralty now thinks that it must alter its coast defences, inas¬ much as Krupp’s improved monster guns are found to penetrate easily the strong¬ est armor plates. The Citizen, of Illion, N. Y., printed its edition by eleotrieity, using an elec¬ tric motor, deriving the current from a ten-light dynamo fifteen rods away. It is the first newspaper in the country thus printed. A Providence man slapped a stran¬ ger’s face for staring at his wife in a street car, and he was beginning to feel himself a hero, when the car stopped and a little girl helped the impudent fellow off He was stone blind. Eight hundred vagrants, a score of fht in men whose ages ranged from 90 to 99 years, were arrested in a single week toward the close of last month in Paris. slept Many of them asserted that they had not on a bed for thirty years. Since the commencement of work on the canal, the population of Aspinwall, Panama, has suildeulv increased from 1,500 or 2,000 to 8,000 or 10,000, and building has extended into the swamps, where there are no streets graded. Hon. Cabroll E. Smith, of the Syra¬ dress cuse Journal, before will deliver the annual ad- ' the New York Press Asso¬ ciation at its convention in Plattsburg, in June. George E. Stevens (Wade Wipple), of Yonkers, will deliver the poem. President Taylor of the Mormon church says: “When they come West to wipe out polygamy they will find 100, 000 muskets pointing eastward.” In that ease, says the Philadelphia Call, they had better take along 100,000 muskets pointing westward. Three thousand food inspections in Glasgow last year resulted in the destruc¬ tion of 16,000 pounds of fish, 3,000 pounds of pork, 600 pounds of beef, and other considerable quantities of food. Among the better class of houses, 263 drains have been inspected, and only seven of them found to be in good order. The Treasury Department is in receipt of a telegram from J. H. Sanders, Sec¬ retary of the Treasury Cattle Commis¬ sion, stating that he has information that the cattle disease prevailing in Kansas was carried there in clothing by two Scotchmen, direct from an infected herd in Scotland. Liverpool is the greatest shipping port of the world, its annual tonnage being 2,6-17,372 tons. London is tho next port with 2,330,688 tons. Glasgow ranks third with a tonnage of 1,432,35-1. New York comes fourth on the list of shipping ports of the world with a ton¬ nage of 1,153,676. One of the latest cheats is tobacco paper. The stuff is such an exact imita¬ tion of the natural tobacco leaf and is so well flavored that it takes a magnifying glass to detect the deception. Cigars made of this tobacco paper have a good flavor, burn well and hold their white ash firmly. Here is a statement, in round figures, of the Irish population of the earth: Irish at home, 7,500,000; Irish in Eng¬ land, 2,500,000; Irish in Scotland, 2,000,000; Irish in Canada. 2,000,000; Irish in Australia, 1,000,000; Irish in America, 12,500,000; Irish elsewhere, 5,000,000-a total of 32,500,000. In Sayreville, Pa., there is a horse which hauls thirty-five small cart loads of clay and one of coal dust every day. He has nodriver, is as regular as clock work, and never fails to go exactly the right number of times. If too big a load is put on the cart, he rears and plunges until a part of it has been re¬ moved. At domino parties in Boston, the la¬ dies, but not the gentlemen, wear masks. At one entertainment a young gentle¬ man was flirting desperately with a domino, when to his astonishment the voice behind the mask said. “Why, Bobby, where did you learn such fright¬ ful things ?” The domino proved to be his mother. The engagement is announced of Mrs. Frank Leslie te the Marquis deLenville, a gentleman who has spent much of his time for the pastthree years in New York city. The duel between the Marquis and Count Almansegg, in Belgium, in which the latter was wounded, was be¬ cause of remarks that the latter had made concerning an American lady. Not the Right Leg. “I leaf my poy Shake in der shtore while I come down town,” he began as he halted a patrolman, “and pooty queek a man vhalks in and looks all aronndt and says: “ ‘Poy, I has godt some badt news for you.’ How dot ?’ asks Shake. »< < vos “ ‘Veil, your fadder falls down on der shtreet und preaks his leg, und I vhas here to get a dollar to pay for a hack to bring him home.’ “ ‘No!’ (« 4 Dot vhas so.’ ‘•Vheel, dot makes my poy Shake feel like a load of hay falls on him, but he doan’ go quite grazy. He t-inks it all oafer and asks: “ ‘So my fadder proke his leg?’ << t Vhieh leg vhas it ?’ “ ‘Der left leg.’ “ ‘Are you sure ?’ “ ‘Of course; I help to carry him into der city hall.’ “Den my poy Shake he laughs all oafer, shust so—, und chuckles down in his poots like dis—; und den he plows bolice vhistle mit all his might, und dot schwindler runs avay.” eh ?” “So Jake doubted his story, 1 “Of course.” “Why!” look here few times.” “Veil you a He reached down and pulled up the left pant leg, and the officer saw a neat handy wooden limb. “You don’t fool my poy Shake on wooden legs, und don’t you forget him I” chuckled the old man as he waved his hand for a street-car to take him aboard. —Detroit Free Press. Robert Bonner's fast horses include Marietta, 2:16}; Maud Macy, 2:t0j; Maybivd, 2:21; Wolsey, 2:21 j; and Con¬ voy, 2:221.