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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1887-12-8, Page 3MISS BECKY'S -HONE MARY PBESCOTT, Mies Beckywas goieg to the " Old Ladies' Hone"at last. It wan a sorry fact, but there was nothing else for her to do, it seemed. Who would think of offering any other home to a, poor, almost helplees old woman who had outlived her usefulness ? Having' passed her days in °thee people's 13oueee, sso to speak, the might not mind it as much, perhaps, aa a more fortunate being. " Yes," she said, "there's a vacancy in the 4 Old Ladies' Home,' read the hundred dollars that Parson Amory left me will pay my want 03, but it wouldn't last long if I be- gan to spend it, you know, and I shall have a warm bed and my regular meals without worrying about where the next one's coming feom, I'm 'most tired. worrying about ways end means. Seems as though I had been about it ell my life; ever arm father as Oben with heart diseaee hearing the class in algebra. Now that the rheumatism has got the better of me, eo that I can't work in cold weather, and the doctor says it'll draw my fingers up so that I can't use them soon, it doesn't seem es if there was any- thing left for me in this world but the home —and I ought to be thaukful for that 1" Mies Becky had had other expectations in her heyday, when young Larry Rogers met her and carried her banket ; when hie strong arm paddled her down the broad river to church on Sunday mornings; when they sang together in the choir from the same hymn book ; when they loitered homeward in the fragrant summer dusk, and heard the whip -poor -will complain, and startled the fireflies in the hedges as they brushed by. it sometimes seemed to Mies Becky as if all this had happened in anotheil planet. She was young then with a bloom on her cheeks; but although the rheumatism had bent her figure and rendered her more or Jess helpless at times, yet her dark, velvety eyes looked out like soft stars, and the ghost of a dimple sti 1 flickered on her cheek and chin in spite of her sixty odd years. Miss Becky's father had been the district schoo teacher in those far off days of her girlhood. He had taught her the sixnple lore at his com- mand, but it was Larry Rogers who had taught her music, hour after hour, in the empty schoolhouse; they had practiced together, while he wrote the score on the blackboard. But a I this had not sufficed to enable her to earn a livelihood. Her education, musical and otherwise, had stopped short of any commercial value. In those days she never expected to earn her living by the sweat of her brow. Larry was going to give her everything. How trivial the little quarrel seemed to- day which circumvented this fine resolve of his! But what magnitude it had as- sumed at the time! On his return from a trip to a neighboring city, some busy- body had 'whispered to Larry that Mise Beaty had been seen driving with Squire Eustis' son Sam behind his trotters. Sam was just home from college, a harum- scarum fellow, they said, who made love and left and gambled a bit; and when lJacry reproached her with it she hadinot de. nied ; she had simply said: " What then? If you choose to listen to gossip rather than wait till you—" "But you didn't tell me, and I've been home a week." "1 had forgotten all about it till you re- minded me," said Becky. "It's such an every day affair for you to drive with Sam Eustis 1"—which incredulity so stung Becky that she would not con- descend to explain that she had carried so e needlework up to Squire Eustis', wit nee had been doing for his wife, and the e'she left toewalk home Sam was just starting off with his smart chaise and new dapple -grays, and the Squire had said, "Take Miss Becky home, Sam, and show her their paces ;" and how she had been ashamed to refuse their kindness, although preferring to walk a thousand times; and how, once in the chaise Sam had been the pink of courtesy, and had begged hes to drive over with him to Parson Amory's three miles out of her way, "that Lucy Amory may see you don't disdain my com- pany. For, you see," said Sam, who was not as black as he was painted, or as many liked to suppose, '1 Lucy can make me what she will; without her I shall be nothing and nobody; but they've told her all kinds of wild things about me; they've told her she might as well jump into the river as marry such a soapegraue. .And, perhaps, if I made her a little jealous—you know there's no harm in that, is there? All's fair in love; and, perhaps, if the Lid folks see me driving about with Becky Thorne my stock may go up, and I may be saved from the burning,' as Parson Amory says." And Becky had consented. How could she refuse to do a service for such a true lover? So slight a thing, too 1 She had often traversed the same road since on foot, on her daily rounds of toil or mercy. Sam YI been growing, one day failed and left he big la and dry. Some of ,het friendetia travelled to pastures new, eorne had marrie away, some had ignored or forgotten her As for Leine/ Rogers, be lied been away fro: Plymouth this many a year. Somebody ha sent him abroad the yeer after Lucy Amore' marriage to develop his musical genius. B. had grown into a famous 140110i/it, playin all over the country to crowded houses, be fore the finest people in the land. It was beautiful romance to Mise Becky to read i the Plymouth Record about our " gifte townernaxi ; " she seemed to hear the echo o his violin when the wind swept through th pine boughs; the did not blame hirn becaue she eat in the ahadow, beceuse her life ha been colorless. She sang again the old tune he had taught her'atid made a little mut shine in her heart. All of happiness sh had ever known he had brought leer. wh should she complain? And now she we going to the Old Ladies' Home. "It isn't exactly what I expected in my youth," she said to the old dootor's widow-. "No ; but you'll have a nice room and a bright fire, and the neighbors will drop in to see you and make it home -like. Now there's old Mrs. Gunn. Nothing can persuade her to go to tr e home. She says it's only a genteel almshouse after a11; and so she rub along with what little she oan earn and what the neighbors have a naind to send in, a,nd they have to do it mighty gingerly too, just as if they were asking a favor of her, Lor,' the doesn't earn her salt." "1 dare say," returned Miss Becky, "Now, if it hadn't been for the rheumatism I could earn my living for years yet, and maybe get something ahead again, but it seemsi as if the rheumatism laid n wait for the poor and friendless." "You ought to have married when you were young, Becky," said the doctor's widow, who had forgotten all about Becky's love affair and labored under the impression that she never had a chance—an impression which matrons are apt to entertain concern- ing their single friends. Miss Becky had been spending some weeks with Mrs. Dr. Dwight, who had moved away from Ply- mouth after her husband's death. She was there chkily to put some stitches into the widow's wardrobe, which nobody else would do so " reasonabl " that lad ' ' f hav- ing incapacitated for her holding a needle or giving her mind to material details of "seam and gusset and band." But during the visit Miss Becky had been seized with her sharpest attack of rheumatism, which had kept her in hod for weeks till her wages were exhausted by drugs and doctor's fees. It was at this time that she made up her mind to go. into the home on her return to Plymouth. M D 'ght saw her off at thestation. "1 hope you'll find the home cosy," she said outside the car window. "It's lucky -Pars rn .Amory left h hundred all. He might have doubled it." "Yes, I suppose so," Miss Becky answer- ed meekly. Perhaps she was thinking that if she were Mrs. Dwight no old friend of hers should go begging for a refuge at an almshouse. Perhaps she was thinking of the pretty, comfortable home wititing for her r quarrel which parted ue—euch a trifle, when 4 1 look back. Do youever look,back, madam?" 4 The twilight was falling about them; . Becky's ,face had grown a ehade, or two n paler all at once; she turned her dark, 4 velvety eyes full upon him with a etartled s sir. e " You ?" she said." "You must be Ler- g ry Rogers 1" Then the color swept to her , cheek in a crimson wave. 1` Do you know, a I never thought you had grown old like n myself 1 Don't you know me ? I am d •Beelty Thorne." Just theu the train thundered through the tunnel and they forgot that they were " sixty odd," "On the way to the Old Ladies' Home," she wrote Mrs. Dwight, " I was persuaded to go to an old gentleman's instead 1" SIR MORELL MACKENZIE, holaminent sneciaiist Who heals with the German citron Princes Throat. Three generations ago a Ross -shire High hinder put a shilling about some part of his ' person and set his face across the Scotish- harder. His mime was Makenzie, he amassed a good fortuae, and his grandson grew into a mad doctor of much ability but of retiring habits, To this 'physician, then living at Leytonstone, Englend, there was born, fifty years ago, asonwho was named Morell after an uncle who perished very creditably in the loss of the Pegasus Young Mor 11 was left to run ,ild in Epping Foiest to an ad e armed boyhood, but he progressed well later; took a high degree at the University of London; abjured the retiring habits of his father; screwed a brass plate on his door; and took to looking cloven people's throats for guineas. "His suocess in private practice was great and immediate, and in a few years after eettIng up, he could give to physicians who had been established a lifetime a score of patients and a beating. He became a specialist. Ile wrote books on "Diseases of the Throat and Nose" and on the "Hygiene of. the Vocal Organs." He founded the Hos- pita? for Diseases of the Throat, in Gelden sierare, obtained all the professional honors in general which throat and nose cam give; and became the special champion of special- ism in medicine as opposed to general routine, in which capacity he largely developed and amply displayed the bellicose and controver- sial predisposition he had inherited from the original Highlander. A few months ago he was called in to deal with the throat of the Crown Prince of Germany, which had baffled all the German doctors; and this he has treated with such success that it has been made the occasion for conferring upon him 1 the distinction of a knighthood. Sir Morell is ct man of wealth, of capacity and of strong individuality. He has long been the physi- cian and friend of all singers and actors, and he has a son who Is aiready neakieg a name as a comedian. He can often see a joke, which is unusual for a Scotehraan. g wny their tortunes were so unlike.- " Write when xou reach Plymouth and let me know how you're sui e , said re. Dwight, and just then the ears gave a lurch and left her behind, and Miss Becky turned her alarm inwards. Somebody had taken the seat beside her. "Your friend was speaking of Parson Amory and Plymouth," he said. "1 couldn't help hearing. I was born in Plymouth my. self, but I haven't met a soul from there these twenty years. I'm on my way to look up my old friends," "Twenty years IS a long time," answered Becky. "I'm afraid yen won't find many of your friends left. You'll hardly know ymouth." "1 suppose not—I suppose not. Have you heed there long ?" " I ? I have lived there all my days." " Good ; l'm hungry for news of the pee. ple. Tell me everything you can think of. Did Parson Amor leave a fortune? He was called close. ere S Mies Nell, married or dead ? I can see the old place in my mind's eye, and the parsonage under the elms, and and the orchard behind it where Lucy An, ory planted a young tree on her weddi - day, and -the gown little Becky Thorne woe By the way, is she alive? Do you kne her ?" Miss Becky hesitated an instant. "Yes," she replied. "1 know her more or lees. She's alive." " Ansi married ?" "Well, no ; she never married." "She must be sixty odd ; she was a pre creature, such—I steppoee they are wrink now 1 Where have the years gone ? her home in the old place still ?" "Her home 1" said Miss Becky, flu ing a, little. "K.. has none ; she is on I The Infinenoe of Luxury. The tendency of luxury is toward de- moralization. Rome never became dissipat- ed and corrupt until her citizens became wealthy, and adopted luxurious modes of living. Nothingis more conducive to sound morals than full occupation of the mind , with useful labor. Fashionable idleness is a foe to virtue The youngthe young woman who wastes the precious 1 hours of life in listless dreaming, or in that sort of senseless twaddle which forms the bulk of the conversation in some circles, is in Very great danger of demoralization. Many of the usages and customs of fashion- able society seem to open the door to vice, and to insidiously, and at first unconsciously, lead the young and inexperienced away from the paths of purity and virtue. There is good evidence that the amount of immor- ality among what are known as the higher classes,. is every year increasing. Every now and then a scandal in high life comes to the surface ; but the great mass of car- ruption is effectually hiddenfrbm thegeneral public. Open profligacy is, of course, fraven- ed upon in all respectable circles ; and yet wealth and accomplishments will cover a multitude of sins. -. POSiTIVE CIRIE \ is A a - A an cdha GIVES Immediate Reid pelt Cold in NAY FEVER. te to ud a. he EAST TO USE. ey ret way to the Old Ladles, Home." Thorne !" he gasped. "And I—." taS nil Powder or Irritating Liquid. Price " To the Old Ladies, Home ! Bee ,po "You seem to know her pretty well,!' Eustis bad married Lucy Amory years ago, said Becky, who was beginning to enjoy the and was the foremost man in the country incognito. to -day. Strange how that friendly drive " I should think so. I've loved Becky had interfered with Miss Becky's prospects; Thorne from my cra,dle ; we had a silly I cand ts, $1.00. If not obtainable at your drug. ell intreelarry D'sueaterria'ialnd, my nine, and, wheresoe'er ye wend, Shun eaudy scenes, and be the poor man's friend; You've left a poor one ; go to one as pow, And drive despair and Imager from his door." how the simple fact of carrying home Mrs. Eustis' needle -work should have determined her fate and, devoted her to a lite of hard- ship and the Old Lathers' Home at the end Talk of trifles 1 Poor Miss Becky! She remembered that once or twice the oppor- tunity had offered when she might have made it ap with Lary; but pride, or a sort of fine reserve had loceed her lips—Larry ought to know that she was above silly flirtations]. Once, when they met at Lucy • Amory's wedding, when they all went out into the orchard while the bride planted a young tree and the guests looked for four- leaved clovers, she had found herself whether by accident or design she could not tell—on the grass beside Larry: their fingers met over the Same lucky clover, their eyes met above it, and for an instant she had it on her tongue's end to conteas all about the drive and its result, to put pride in her pocket, but just then Nell Amory called to Larry : "Oh, a horrid spider !--on my arm, Larry! Kill him, quick—do 1 Oh—oh— oh 1 I shall die—I shall faint 1" And that was the end of it. The old orchard, with its fragrant quince bushes, its gnarled apple trees'its founleav- ecl clovers, was a thing of the past; a cotton - mill roared and thundereo there all day long, where the birds built and the trees blossom- ed thirty odd years ago. It no longer bless - some& except in Miss Becky's memory. She had turned her thoughts to raising plants when she was left to her own resources, but one cruel winter's night killed all her slips, and the capital was lacking by which 'she might renew her stook. Since then she had gone out for daily sewing, had watched with the eiek, had been in demand for a tem- porarybousekeeper whenever a tired matron wished an outing; but latterly her eyes no longer served her for fine work, and sewing - machines had been itittoduced ; she was not so alert in the Sick room as of yore ; she moved more slowly, and her houselteepieg talent was no longer in request; added to this, the bank where her little earnings had SCIENTIFIC AND USEBUL, The most important elements of plant -food are carbonic aoid, water, potash, phospheric acid, and nitrogen. Lather for cleaning wind9we ; One part of olive -oil, ono part of spirit of aninlenla, i,WQ of chalk or whiting, and one of vvater. Mix to a thick paste. To Make papier inache for fine email work, boil clippings of brown or white paper in Water, beat them into a paste, add glue er gum and elZe) and press into oiled moulds. Green paint for Venetian blinds wide will stand the heat of the 8un without blist ering : Rub two parts of white lead an one of verdigris with nut -oil or lineeed.oi varnish, mixed with oil of turpentine, and dilute both colors with ordinary drying -oil. The process of fastening ferns to a book is very easily accomplished. With a small brush gently touch the back of the fronds here and there with a little comfnen num, putting only sufficient to keep the fronds from turningup. Place a piece of blotting - paper on the top of the fern, and put is weight on top of the book, and when dry the process is complete. A French physicist has been makin8 re- siron, recently into the action of cane - sugar and treacle on on, and finds thab they corrode iron with the formation of an acetate of the metal. The fact is of practi- cal utility in connection with boilers, be- cause it happens sometimes that sugar geta into the water supplied to boilers in sugar. re ' fineries and consequently tends to deteri- orate theboilers. The abolition of resistance is absolutely nessessery . coneecting a lightning -conduc- tor with the earth, and this is done, says Professor Tyndall, by closely embedding in the earth a plate of good conducting nutted - al and of large area. The largeneas of area makes atonement for the imperfect conduc- tivity of earth. The plate, in fact, consti- tutes a wide door through which the elec. trieity passes freely into the earth, disrup- tive and damaging effects being thereby avoided. If small quantities of butter, lard, and beef -fat be separately boiled and ,slowly cooled for, say twenty-four hours, the re- sulting crystals will show very marked dif- ferences under the microscope. The normal butter -crystal is large and globular. It pol- arises brilliantly, and shows a very well - marked St. Andrew's Cross. That of lard - shoes a stellar form, while that of beef -fat has a foliated appearance. In course of time, as the butter loses its freshness, the globular crystals degenerate, and gradually merge into peculiarly rosette -like forms. Celery is a sedative, and is good for rheu- matism and the so-called neuralgia which is Glcry mi. the Right.. ex Pm, The nations in. their rmeht Are 'arming for the tight, Their hattle•crY IS wafted Ligh For glory and the right. Wide doatmgo'cr the world The war-riag is unfurled, Its legend bold bath words high-souled For glory and the right, Alen, eeate the mockery ! 'Fore Heaven how dare ye slay? .10w Can ye stand with blo(4-stained hands And shout, the right, the right ? h Oh I rulers at your ease • Who war what thee pleaSe, d God eounteth all who fight 4nd fall For glory and the not. oftenonly another name for 11. Cucumbers cool the system—when treat cut, of course. Lettuce is not only cooling, but produces sleep, especially if the stalk is eaten. As- paragus purifies the blood, and especially acts on the kidneys. Pease, broad beans, and haricots are positively strengthening, and contain for the human being the proper? ties specified by farmers when they say that pe tee "harden" pig's flesh, and that "oats may take a horse out, 1 ut beans will bring him home again." Potatoes should not be eaten by those who are disposed to get too stout, and many who suffer from derange. ment of the liver eschew them altogether. Artificial asphalt is principally distingu- ished from the natural substance by its dull colour and its scarcely perceptible odour, It is a product of the diseillation of coal Isar. The fluid distillate obtained in the manufac- ture of coal -gas represents about four to seven per cent, of the quantity of coal used, and, after about two-thirds of its weight has been removed in the shape of fluid oils by fractional distillation, a residue is left which cools into a firm black substance, known as artificial esphalt or black pitch. The consistency of the asphalt varies accord- ing to the quantity of oil removed. One of the most important uses of this asphalt is for fuel in the shape of briquettes small coal, sawduat, Sze., being mixed withit. Asphalt pipes and flooring are also made from. it, as well as lampblack of inferior quality. For i the manufacture of iacquers artificial as- phalt is much less euitable:than the natural eubstance, as the coating obtained is liable to crack, and is wanting in brilliancy. Ben Franklin was the first to suggest that ships carry oil to pour on the rough waters. He also advised ship builders to separate the ship's hold into water -tight compartments. These two simple devices have eaved many a ship. JACOB'S LADDE12.-011 Mount Whitney the highest mountain in California., at level of fourteen thousand feet &novo the See and fifte n hundred feet above the timber line, where there is he soil, and no moisture save snow and hail and ice, there grows a little flower shaped like a bellflower, gaudy in colours of recl, purple, and blue. It is called Jacobs ladder ; and its fragrance par- takes of the white jasmine. It blooms alone; for it not only has no floral associates, but there is no creature—not even bird or insect —to keep it company CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES. trOStesS NOW,1)0'T STAY 01114 111311E ALL TAR tvEtql•TOF. 'lost 1,VE'1.1 ."f0IN Yon IN TEN trneurrs. Tiestesi :kftss Felty.EctlY IS 00I O.- v rmu, YOU Ktow. gait 0 wRtr ' SAY AN 1101311. Ye kings enthroned op high, On you the sin cloth Ile; Ye spoke the word, they drew the sword For glory and the right. * Oh what is glory? this— The burping, fevered kiss The tear dem fl face, the Jest embraoe When love is pain and bliss? Alt! Glory, art thou nigh Where unknown heroes lie Wrapped in a shroud of battle °loud With neer a pitying eye? Is dory in the tomb 'Mid awful calm and glom; Where 010U In life, who were at strife, Sleep in one common room ? Shines it from yonder face That bearet still the trace Of days when grief bad no relief? Glory I where is thy place 1 Bow down, oh God, let thine e'er listening ear Ile quick to hear my faint despairing cry. Long weary years have passed. since earth did bear The Prince of Peace, and still the flag waves high, The blood•stained flag of pillage and rapine. And men still gather underneath its shade As if no fairer standard earth had seen No weapon save the cruel gleaming blade. Bow down, oh Ged, and touch the hearts of Enkindling in. them thine own fire of love, Which, burning bright, shall purify. As when The fire purges gold and cloth remove All baser things- even so do Thou consume The dross of i•iory, hate and every wrong.. Then Truth her sway -in meekness shall assume, AndBight love -guarded be forever strong. Mignonette. BY AROMA lidOK. Thou fragrant plant that lowlyblooms, And sweetly scents the evening air, And scatters wide thy sweet perfumes,— We love thee, little floweret fair— With meek humility end grace Thou bowest down thy bloom -crowned head, Thy lowly plot, alone we trace, E'en from the fragrance thou dost shed. Within our garden plot we keep A spot remote alone for thee, Around thee brilliant floweretssleep, And slumbers every shrub and tree, Bat thou, throughout the livelong night, Breathe forth tby fragrance e'er the vale, And sltunber not when morning light Comes forth, earth's glories to unveil. 313y day and n ght thy tale is told, Thy humble lesson thou dost teach :— Unwavering we the truth must hold, If e'er we would perfeetion reach. We must not slumber night or day, Nor flaunt our gain or our regret, Unwilling from the truth to stray,— Our pattern be the Mignonette. Children's Battle With a Wild -Cat. Recently, while W. D. Clark, of Pleasant Valley, Cal., was away from home, his two little girls, the eldest ten years of age, es- pied a large wildcat prowling around in close proximity to the barn. They, with two small doge, gave chase, the eldest girl armed, not with a. broom, but a blackinalee. The wildcat ran to the mounteins, about NO rode away, took a position on a large boulder and waited for the attacking force. The little girls took in the situation, pulled the dogs' ears and cried "sic," and the bat- tle began. The little girls stood bee pelting the cat, dogs and surrounding boulders with such stones as they could pall up, and using the blacksnake continuously. Your corre- spondent is of the opinion that the black- snake did the business, as in looking back to his boyhood days he has a vivid recollec- tion of the effect of one in particular. The little girls then dragged their victim home, very much fatigued and hardly knowing what it was. They certainly did not know what risk they had taken. A, Grand Nicht. Tennyson was always a favorite with Car- lyle, and at one time he was a frequent visit- or at the house on Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, where that famous sound -proof room was 'built. On one of these visits they sat down ID Carlyle's study on each side of the fire place, and these for two hours they eat, plunged in profound meditation, the silence being unbroken save for the little dry re- gular sound that the lips of the smokers made as they sent puffs of smoke soaring to the ceiling. Not one single word broke the silence. After two hours of this strange con- e erse between two great settle that under- stood each other without speech, Tennyson fred, weve had a grand nicht 1 Comeback again soon." rose to take leave alma host. Carlyle wen w th lum to the door. and then, grasping his hand, uttered these words: "Eh, Al Those lovely garments sold as tea gowns are growing in favor for dressy house wear. Tern " RAINY -DAY BOY. "—The latest ad dition to the American repertory of social in ventiyeness is "the rainy day boy who loans umbrellas." Third Avenue, New York, seems to be the chosen haunt of this enter- prising youth and his colleagues, who, as soon as a heavy downpour seems ianninent. hasten to the station of the Elevated Rein [ road in the thoroughfare just mentioned, 1 and, umbrella in hand, courteously offer -- for a trifling consideration—to escort ladies and gentlemen to their residences. The charge for convoy home under the protect- ive cupola of silk or alpaca to the extent of , the "first block" is said to be usually five cents. Some of these lads have forethought enough to provide waterproofs for feminine use; while others are so speculative as to keep a stock of three or four umbrellas. -vehicle their patrons may either keep or re- turn on leaving a deposit. UNBABTHING BURIED Or nualae IfS flif,0109 reOPle Were Vie* ISfaii• Mr, rau71-111C"eY'sshin'aelin4404fr;li° erifaine has, unearthed the ruins of a prehistoric city boa the Salt River valley, about eighty miles, north west of Tucson, Prof. Cushman is at preeeut iu southern Californias •lying ex- tremely ill, but the force he put at work duriug the summer exhuming the buriede city are still encamped on the vet contin- uieg their exploratiens, The camp is located on the edge of tIlks unearthed oity, and about 300 yards from what was its citadel, or fortified temple. This is believed to have been a building of considerable size and strength, prebahlen several stories high, and had its imuadatitou laid deep in the earth. The material nee& in its eonstruction was sun-dried clay, the same as that used by the Mexican e of the lower and middle classes, and before Mr. Cushman began his exploration there wati, nothing to mark its whereabouts except ea F3Drt Of oblong hillock or mound. Little oii* the walls above the foundation were Rani& intact, but the ground plan could be traced in every detail, as well as the lines of the, outer wall. The rooms were of different, 6 zee, and seemed to have been constructed . - with much architectural skill. A number' of the smaller apartments had undoubtedly been constructed for burial vaults, for when% they were opened up skeletons were foam& in thern, the heads beins invariably to the east. In one of these vaults was the sirens- tou of a child. Mr. Cushman was of thte opinion that the building had been a sort cs combined citadel and sacred temple, ana. that the remains of those fouud there were, those of priests and their families. The, city extended out in all directions from the: palace or temple, and the foundations of numerous dwellings had been exposed, many, of them consisting of but a single room; bat now and then there is one of larger and more ample proportions, and in most of these larger ories there had been found burial vaults and skeletons. Two thousand ceW these have been exhumed already according to the letter in the Post, but it is thought by the officials of the geological survey .that, this is a misprint for two hundred. A great deal of pottery has been taken out, of course, No iron, copper, or metal instruments or Of any kind have been found, but graat, quantities of stone axes, stone pestles, and?, mortars'bone needles and knives and other - such materials as belong to the stonenigne The skill with which these articles were-, made was far superior, bowever, to that,. shown by the Indians found in .Amerlea by - the whites. These prehistoric dwellers of,' southern Arizona were a people of very su- perior intelligence. Mr. Cushman has found a good deal of wheat and barley and other grain, all of it,„ of course, in a charred, blackened condition,. and he has also traced several canals an& found the rains of a large reservoir, so that he has no doubt that extensive irrigation. had been carried on, and that all the valley had been under cultivation. He thinkre there must have been a population of at leash 25,000 in the ruined city, and that most'of the inbabitants lived by cultivating the soilt of the surrounding country. Mr. Cushman. was questioned as to hire theory about the complete disappearance oW the people who occupied this city. "1 think," said he, " they suffered from some great calarhity like the inhabitants a Herculanieum and Pompeii. It was probse. ble it was an earthquake. I have fauna skeletons under the walls of houses lyinknee. eee if the walls had suddenly fallen upon the, person and crushed him to death. Yea'I think therecame a terrible earthquake whicle killed many and frightened the remainder - away. They were, no doubt, a religious, people and strongly superstitious, so that - they saw in the calamity that befel them a. warning to seek some other abode. They, probably moved south, and it may have been their descendante that the Spaniards found. in Mexico. They were certainly equal in intelligence and advancement to the Aztecs.” .--emeere-na A Good Memory. "I'm surprised that you should remembse me,Mr. Dumley," said Mrs. Hobson, "since it is so long ago that we met." "Oh," replied Dumley, with profuse gal- lantry, "there is nothing remarkable about. it, I assure you, my dear madam, I can re member anybody." Just Glanced Through It. Miss Waldo (of Boston, discussing literarn- matters)—Have you read" Homo Sum; Mr. Wabash? Mr. Wabash (of Chicago, who is keeping, up hi end of the conversation with diffi- culty)--well—er—yes, Miss Waldo I have read Elomo some, but not a great deal Not a Howling Success, Bobby (to his big sister)—I heard Mr. Featherly talking about the biscuits yen made for tea last night, Clara. Big Sister (with assumed indiffer ence)-- Yes ? and did Mr. Featherly thin k they were Bobby—No; nice, Bobby?ed aai Bo yo;h they gave him hi_ digestion. you wanted to marry Irate father—" Love ITrsiau'rmpthopsahetanybtoc. uo k rkeerne pe erar beol; mine about a year ave ?" ti?aipretty sort'cYfbaitirt eso'ril'thaer;:m nicked ont He has decamped with any whole fortune." " You remember, father, that you tol& him he could not have me until he got rich, don't you ?" fcrejsbreceivedrsueileyoungai haespateh from him.. tst Montreal saying he is rich now, but is, perfectly willing to marry a poor roan% daughter."—Detroit Free Press. A Gentle Reproof. Father—Come, Bobby, you are all tired ult3o; bsbohy(uwrirtyh°affstloowbeac,ind reluctant rtio vo ment)--Pa, you oughtn't to tell a boy tcat mrry when he's all tired out. Robert L. Krum, who has been connected with the Panama Railway for six months, has just returned home, and gives a start- ling cleecription of life and death among the 6 laborers on the Panama Camel. Re says that Panama comes] nearer being hades than any place he was over in. The laborers die off like cattle wirer inurrai n strik e th em. "1 went clown one day to tee the canal laborers at work," said he, "and I never will forget what 1 eavfr. The Weether was soft that day, and fifty or more fresh colored fellows had been brought in. In the afternoon the heat and the air had their effects upon them, and ono by' one they fell. I Paw one man hit on the head by the exca- vating machhte. He woes killed. The body watt immediately hoisted into the clumping tube, sent through the machine, and that was the laet seen of him. At night when the men eve through work they begin a debauch on smuggled whisky, and then they fight with knives and. kill each other. In a big city you can see hxnnan nature in had forms, but the worst forme of vice praetieed in New York and Lohdon and Parisi are nowhere when compared With what can be seen every day en the Istlimns." --- For the completed four months of th current fiscal year the Dominion revcro amounted to $11,702.951, an exceed over c penditure of $1,963,829. Somothino• "Can t you say something pleamip,,, its?" said a husband trY MS Wife as about to start for his office. They had had a quarrel, and he UPI ing" Atoh,"rolamk,e"tripes." ponded the penitet'atii: throwing her arms aroutel his neeb. tbt, give my foolishness. We were bot ito wrong. And don't forget the babe/ 8 t dear, and the toe of coal, and we fice 11A Vtile petatotle; Merl sotth, love, yott niu, II-' - some money for tile gas Man."