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Home My WebLink AboutThe East Huron Gazette, 1892-04-28, Page 2DARING NIAGARA S WRATH, Stine of Oak Remarkable Recapes at- the Great Waterfall. Thera were daring men before Capt. Webb si of course they found their way to Nva - gala. One jumped from the bridge 192 feet to the swirling current. For fifty feet he fell like a plummet. Then he turned over twice. Atehast he struck an awful slap. This man died. e But such r hac- other �mper soo s appeared- Rehe kwore harness over his shoulders, to ib was attached a wire running over a cylinder on the bridge This kept his feet straight toward Davy Jones' locker, and he survived the leap to his eonzet rable personal profit. From the beidge to the water he went in four seconds the only time on record. Of accidents some very stafnge ones e are recorded. One lady stooped P of water, lost ber balance, and was out of reach and over the falls almost before her amazed husband knew what had happened. Another lady stooped to pick a flower on the brim[ of the Table rock. She was taken up dead from the rocks below. In 1875 an accident equally sad and fool- ish occurred. An engaged couple went behind the falls into the Ceve of the Winds without a guide. The lady sought to bathe in a pool which even the glides never visit- ed. For her folly she perished, and her lover lost his life in trying to save hers. Perhaps the most dramatic accident was the following : A playful-- young man caught up a charming child who was watch- ing the tumbling waves. " Now, Lizzie, I am going to throw yon into the water," he said, and swung her back and forth. She .creamed, struggled, and slipped from his hands. He gazed after her, realized what he had done, and leaped. Rescue was hopeless. Perhaps he did not deserve death, and at least censure may die with hire Of escapes there are one or two narrow ones almost beyond belief, and which in- volve stories of skill and bravery well worth telling. Not many years ago a painter was at work on Second Sister's island, when he fell into the water. He was old and weak, and while his position was not very dangerous at first, he soon floated down and toward mid -stream, when, just as he seem- ed hovering on the brink and exactly forty feet from it, if contemporary records are to be belisved, he caught on a rock. Hots long would his muscles endare the strain? And who would rescue him, and how ? The crowd was helpless until a guide' appeared with a coil of rope. One end he left in trusty hands, and with the other he plunged into the boiling tide. When he reached the poor painter the old man still held in .his hand the putty knife with which he was working. He shifted the knife to his pocket, tied the painter to the rope, Ind they reached the shore safely. In another case a boatman; was crossing the rive; above the falls when a fog sudden- ly eame on. He lost his bearings and knew he was drifting to death. -His cries alarmed she village and• bells were rung for him to row toward them. Then an oar broke. His only hciae then lay in a paltry little anchor and a, c+ moron rope, which was very thin end, mi reover, much worn. He el -mined every foot, nay, every inch of it ; he tugged at the knots at each end. Time was precious, but he could not afford to make a mistake. Then he threw it over. 'It bumped along the stones, and his heart beat each time it failed to catch a grip. At last it caught and brought the boat up stand- ing, while the tense string throbbed like the bass gut of a harp as the water rushed by it. For the moment it held. How soon would it part? He shrank from feeling along the strands. He was more afraid not to,, lest he should read his fate in the twine, tense and twanging under the current. Inch by inch his fingers traveled to his arms length. So long as he held there he was safe. Time and time again, through the long night be did this, but never he said, without heart like lead and hand quivering like a leaf. when morning dawned, as at last it did, he was easily saved. In another case the danger to life, though considerable, was not imminent. A tug was towing three scows, when one went adrift. eAfith admirable promptness and address, the captain of the tug cut loose the rest of his tow and steamed ahead of the drifting barge. There he held it by steam power, and when the others came along a line was pass- ed, the throttle was thrown wide open, and it was thought to make way up stream. But they had drifted fairly within the grasp of the spirit of the waters and for a time it seemed ho would not let go his own. Final- ly, a foot was gained, and in a few seconds another, and then the tug of war was vir- tually over. An escape of another sort was that of a murderer. The sheriff was behind him, the river in front, and only the wires of the old bridge at Lewiston to help him across. Hand over hand he began the passage. His hands quickly blistered, and then they bled Again and -again he rested hie arms by hanging by his legs. At last he reached the opposite bank, and lay panting for an hour before he continued his flight. The feat was certainly a remarkable one for an ama- teur. A Remarkable Olock. Jaren possesses a remarkable time -piece. It is contained in aframe three feet wide and five feet long, representing a noonday land- scape of great beauty. in the foreground, plum and cherry trees and rich plants ap- pear in fall bloom; in the rear is seen a hill, gradual in ascent, front which apparently :hews a cascade, admirably imitated in crys- el. - From this point a threadline stream Meanders, encircling rocks and islands in its windings, and finally losing itself in a far off steetch of woodland. In a miniature sky a golden sun turns on a silver wire, striking the hours on silver gongs as it pass- es. Each hour is marked on the frame by a creeping tortoise, which serves the place of a hand. A bird of exquisite plumage warbles at the close of each hour, and, as the song: ceases, a mouse sallies" forth from ,lt neighboring grotto, and, scampering over the hill to the garden, is soon lost to view, EARTH'S AWFUL GUNS. They Marl Reek Projectiles of 190 cable Yards I6 Miles high, In 1738 Cotopaxi ejected its blazing rock- ets more than 3,000 feet above its crater, wh'e in 1757 the flaming mass, struggling for an outlet, roared so that its awful voice was beard for more than 600 miles. In 1797 the crater of Tunguragua, one of the great peaks of the Andes, discharged torrents of mud and lava, which dammed the river, opened new lakes and made a deposit 60-0 feet deep and 20 miles long in avalley aver- aging•over 1,000 feet wide. The molten stream from Vesuvius, which passed through Terre del Greco in 1537,i on- tained 33,000,000 cubic yards of solid matter. The year 1793 witnessed the desti uction of Terre del Greco the second time from the eruptive action of Vesuvius, when the mass of lava amounted to 45,000,000 cubic yards. In 1760 Etna poured out a blazing river that covered 84 square miles of surface with boil- ing lava from 10 to 4U feet deep. It was on this occasion that the sand, ashes and scoriae formed Mount Rosini, near Nicholisa, a cone-shaped structure, two miles in circum- ference and over 4,000 feet high. A stream of lava thrown out by Etna in 1810 was in motion at the average of one. -yard per day for nearly ten months after the eruption. Vesuvius in A. D. 79 vomited forth an amount ot matter whose bulk far exceeded that of the mountain itself. In 1760, Etna disgorged more than 20 times its own mass. Syria, Egypt and Turkey have received contributions of ashes from Vesuvius. From this crater were hurled stones of 800 pounds weight to Pompeii, a distance of six miles, puring an eruption in 79 A. D. Cotopaxi has cast a roclecontaining 100 cubic yards a distance of nine miles, and whieh,calcula- ting from the angle of ascension, must have reached an altitude of 16 miles. On more than one occasion this volcano has shot up a solid stream to the height of over 6,C00 feet. In 1815 a -volcanic eruption in Java covered 400 square miles with ashes and lava, and out of a population of 15,000 only 20 persons escaped with their lives. During the terrible earthquake of 1883, not less than 20 large and small Javanese volcanoes were vomiting at the same time. Fifty square miles of land andtwo villages entirely disappeared and a section of a mountain chain, 65 miles long 20 miles broad, was wholly swallowed up, leaving a, lake instead. It was the vapor from this eruption that caused the remarkable after - sunset glows over the greater part of the earth, during the fall of 1883. The same country had another destructive outbreak and a series of earthquake shocks in 1891. The Hawaiian group of islands in the South Pacific Ocean is wholly volcanic. They appear where the ocean is from 16,000 to 18,000 feet deep, have bases that are con- fluent, and have diameters ranging from 10 to 60 miles. The peak of Mauna Loa, on' one of these islands, is 13,000 feet above the sea, thus indicating a mass of uplifted mat- ter 31,000 feet above the ocean floor. These illustrations will suffice to convey an idea of how permanent matter is belched onto the surface from the interior of the earth, but the volatile substance, the gase- ous matter, cannot be easily estimated yet this is the vehicle, the motor, the active agent in all these processes. Here we have a clear and altogether logically physical ex- planation of the causes that underlie the formation of mountains. The primary cause of volcanic outpourings is the pressure of the cooled shell of the earth onthegaseous and molten interior. As these interior substances come forth the shell generally settles, and, as it has to ac- commodate itself to a slowly decreasing in- terior, a wrinkle, or a number of wrinkles on the shell, is the inevitable consequence. These wrinkles we denominate mountains. We can readily account for the " chain" system in mountain formation and can also understand why they are so generally par- allel to coast lines, and also why they occa- sionally disregard the chain formation and display themselves conspicuously. But whence comes this incandescent in- terior? This is still primeval heat—the fiery, glowing condition which is the incipi- ent stage cf nearly all bodies in space. If we inquire into the relationship be- tween volcanic action and earthquakes, we shall find such relationship to be very in- timate. The earth's crust is too thick and the rock stratification affords too much resistance for an outbreak to occur where - ever there chances to be a more than ordin- arily heavy pressure. This overpressure, then, may exhibit itself in various ways on the surface, depending on its internal en- vironment. This greater pressure of a cer- tain area, in obedience to the law that impels force to follow the lines of least re- sistance, may extend laterally into a region of lesser pressure, with or without a per- ceptible rumbling or jarring of the surface. The variation in the phenomena, however, will be due to the many varying factors, which can only be determined by a careful analysis of the action and referring it `iaca synthetically to such causes as would neces- sarily produce such action. An earthquake then is only the premonitary disturbance that indicates an increasing or a readjust- ing pressure and which, in the fullness of its time, will expend itself in an emission to the surface. This may sometimes involve centuries and large areas that are jarred may never realize more thansuch jarring, as weaker localities, orelocalities having rents, may experience the result -of the final action. Earthquake and volcanic action are then a necessary consequence'from the physical constitution of the globe and such manifes- tation may be expected long after the sphere is at all habitable. The universe knows of no such thing as absolute unending terra firma. - e Severe. The Texas -prohibitionist is a prohibi- nrstindeed. A little soil of a Waco pro- I ition� said to his father ! - Pa, I>cea€`i in a book that a long time �eetn>•ned-men. into swine ; do sue hinga< happen nowadays ?'_ _ Nbic. my son, it is fid longer r►ecessary. � Men turn< themselves into swine nowadays.,, Which It; Ras: m eenA fashionable; shop. Enter tO y lady, addressiiiga chop assistant . I wish to exchange something I bought a :Dee ou remember wheth- �tsdaut, - y _. ou w. e atter ded by-thegentleman with si mustache or [lie; g sale man with h' beard g" e` p, f: the' looking Just as God Leads. "Just as God leads me I wound go I do not ask to choose my way ; Content with what He doth bestow, I know He will not let me stray, So as He leads I onward move— . A child, confiding in His love. Just as God leads me I would go, Though oft 'mid thorns and brie rs keen, He does not yet His guidance show, But in the end it will be seen How, by a loving Father's will, Patient and true he leads me still." Mothers -in -Law Are Awful Tough. teaA feeble -looking Harlem lady called on Perkins Soonorer. f4I'm not coming on well -at all, doctor. hi "What is the mantel; ?ell " I don't seem to have' any life in me. 1 ft. that I am not long for this world." daughter of yours: Then you will he a other -in-law, and ato'tlers=iu-laware awful a so- e world can't kill em. I've got: one and I know khat I _ ., m talking about." ItiTiDr. �."Haw are you, coming on, Mrs. Fuller I," I'll tell you what to do. Marry off that -Sugh, All the doctors In tit diet Sir -John Lubboek-Kent a queen bee for fifteen years. -'44. ----rho end ofthat t -f e a teat moved=that hes• evere .lust as"fertile aa" tilers of a:; ween: tw eels of ; -proof poai- = e a ,_ ._ q y -o a at" the- . tial rir its foplr:ih to.: pp of [rear old sen wort'[ -hatch:. THE POET'S CORNED, • ASong of England. Mr. VST. H. Henley contributes the following fine poem to the National Review, of which we omit the third verse :— What have I done for you, England, my England ? What is there I would not do, England, my own ? With your glorious eyes austere, As the Lord were walking near, Whispering terrible things and dear As the Song on your bugle= blown, England— Round the world en your bugles blown Where shall the watchful Sun England, my England, Match the master work you've done, England, my own ? When shall he rejoice agen Such a breed of mighty men As come forward, one to -ten, To the song on your bugles blown, England— Through the years on your bugles blown ! They call you proud and hard, England, my England: You with worlds to watch and ward, England, my own'? You whoe maned hand keeps the keys Of such teeming destinies You could know nor dread nor ease Were the Song on your -bugles blown, England— Round the Pit on your bugles blown! Mother of ships whose might, England, my England. 'Is the fierce old Sea's delight, England, my own ! Chossn daughter of the Lord, Spouse -in -Chief of the ancient Sword, There's the menace of the Word In the Song on your bugles blown, Engler; -- - Out of heaven on our bugles blown ! The Bravest of Battles• The bravest of battles that ever was fought, Shall I tell you where and when ? On the maps of the world you'll find it not 'Twas fought by the mothers of men. Nay not with cannon or battle shot, With a sword or nobler pen; Nay, nor with eloquent word or thought From mouth of wonderful men. But deep in a walled -up woman's heart— Of woman that would not yield, But bravely, silently bore her part— Lo! there is the battle -field. No marshaling troup, no bivouac song, No banner to gleam and wave! But ob, these battles! they last so long— / From babyhood to the grave ! Joaquin Miller. ti The Fatted Gal£ Father an' me are gettin' old ; We ain't used to the way Of goin' to hear the singin', 'stead Of preachin' Sabbath day. So when we were with Andrew's folks, An' Sunday mornin' come, We s'posed we'd hear the word an' line In the sweet hymns they sung. An' when we stood in that dun aisle, . 'Neath arched an' fluted stone, A ray of light touched father's hair, An' his worn features shone. The Or'gan's grand an' solemn tone Jest sounded like a prayer. An' when it stopped I seemed to feel Wings beatin' through the air. "The prodigal," the preacher said; " Of sinnin' weary grown, Has left the swine an' now has turned His face towards his home." - Then all at once the choir riz ; It almost made me laugh To hear that young soprany shriek " Bring in the fatted calf." "Bring in the fatted calf, the calf" Implored the alto low, An' all the rest jined in, as if They couldn't let it go. , The tenor's pleadin' touched my heart. A critter'd been a stone Not to have come a friskin' in In answer to that tone. Waal, pa, he sot with eyebrows bent, Like bushes touched with snow Agrowin' round some sheeny lake, Half hidin' its blue glow. But when the bass had started in A callin' for that calf, He jist reached for his han'kerchief To cover up a laugh. "Bring in the fatted, fatted calf," Bellowed the bass; an' stars ! Our grandee, John, called (half asleep) "Grandpa, let down the bars." Mucic and Life. (After Byron.) - - There is a music in our least affairs, There Is a music in the hammer's beat. There is a music in our works and cares, By Winter's bitter cold or Summer's heat. But there are tender touches, soft and sweet. When lovers listen to the nightingale : And there is music in the winding -sheet, When tears flow -fast above the features pale— When life's vibrations ebb, and melt into a wail. • When the wan moon upon the forest shines There is a fulland sadly -mournful strain, As, rushing through the boughs of Titan pines, The evening breezes seek their forest fane. There is a melody upon the main, Gentle in calm, but in the tempest -wild. When the huge billows swell across the plain - - And burst upon the shore, in fury piled, Then ebb. as when the harp recedes in number mild. There is a burst of music everywhere. The ball room with its suffocating reel— The dancing girl above the foot -lights` glare The marriage -bell which sounds a joyous peal— Into each one a harmony will steal ; But when afar is heard the battle's roar, There death on life has put a lasting seal. The soldier lying in the still warm gore Smiles faintly at the sound that he shall hear no more. List, list! haw sweet the far-off music floats! Now in ani -eery tune, now mild and slow, Until the rapture of the distant notes Is melting like the pink of evening glow, And glides like yonder river's placid flow. The undimmed eye at last is forced to weep, The heart cho.ds thrill again to hear the woe. Sinks, sinks the measured concord, low and deep, Gently as when a soul fades' in eternal sleep. Whoever lacks what music ran afford Is but half -soiled; for well do I opine His soul to raptured heights has never soar- ed, Partaking of that spirit; part divine ; The bacchanal who mumbles o'er his wine I- roused to ardor by the stirring dram ; The patients in the ward who droop and pine Drink eagerly the drowsy, distant hum, Which precludes brigh ter days, and better times to come Our trials toils; our:happin egg, our woes, _ Arebut the soundings of a magic string. Life, like some deep, enchanted music flows— Now high now low, the fading numbers ring. As when the harp its echoes 'round doth fling. Then for a moment, dying out, is still— So 'round till-So'round our lives the notes of music cling With interludes between the good and ill Vhen the soul pants again to ;feel the warm blood thrill. When we are over -gay, a sombre strain Reminds us life is serious as well, When sleep prevails upon the restless brain Tho ehimes:of dreamland weariness dispel. Mnsic'is strong, for it can ever quell Our harsh intentions. . Init wer3 ser e y A note of hope, and in it, too, doth dwell .` Abalm=for disappointment.: It isnigh. in Happiness or woe, from birth until we die, Deeming the Murderer. Speaking of the man now under arrest at Melbourne, Australia, for wifemurder, a [ London correspondent says : g' one might say, is quite a characteristically British person. In the course of his evil career he seems to have handled a hundred times more ill-gotten money than Ravachol ever saw. He has a distinctly Anglo-Saxon turn for finance and large swindling opera- tions, His darling ambition was to pose as a wealthy, well-born gentleman, which pro- bably is the most generally controlling in- stinct implanted in the insular breast. This wild spirit of vaunting, of showing bank 'notes, proclaiming his riches, jingtingjewel- lery in the ears of entranced rustics, really led to his final downfall. No doubt it also served enormously and falsely to - inflame the record of his career which the press of three continenteis now laboriously compiling. Every day brings a fresh story from some English hamlet where the landlady of an inn recalls a strenger visiting _ the place some years ago, bragging about his fortune and displaying fabulous sums cf money. These are all unhesitatingly put down to Dem ing. On theother hand, if he realizesthemedia;val conception of a ferocious and boastful island- er, there is something very striking about'. the thought of him at work in the darkened cabin of the Ballarat all night sawing with a piece of broken eyeglass at his heavy moustache and pulling out - hair by hair what he failed to cut off. Ona cannot im- agine Ravachol subjecting himself to such sustained cruel torture even to save his necks Up to the present it is probable that the newApapers of England and Australia combined have paid something like $100,000 of cable tolls on account of this phenomenal assassin. Before he. is finally put out of the way this expen- diture will doubtless reach the neighbor- hood' of $250,000, which, I dare say, is more than all the London press telegraphic expenses of the Franco-German war up to the capitulation of Paris. It is a common- place to say that the telegraph never be- fore played such a strangely interesting and important part in a criminal investigation. A more curious phase of the business is the sensation of reading -cabled accounts . by Australian reporters of how Deeming look- ed, what he said, the demeanor of the crowds, etc., which are wholly unlike what the dull British reporter would write, but read exactly as if they had been written in Denver or Kansas City. This whimsical like- ness is carried out to the detail of describing the detective in charge of the prisoner, quoting his remarks, stupid ones and all, and generally elevating him into a kind of. a hero. English reporters would think it undignified to invest a mere policeman* with a distinct personality." Sign -Language of the Indians. Make a letter A with your hands and lock the ends of your fingers : that is a tepee, or tens. Keep your hands in that position, and bend them down so that your fingers point away from you : that's a house and a very good one too, because it shows how the logs are interlocked at the corners of the sort of houses one sees on the frontier. If you want to say you saw something, point to your eyes. To say you beard some- thing, point to your ears. To say you slept or are sleepy, put up one hand, with the palm side towards your head, and bend your head as if you were going to lay it on that hand. To say that you saw some one who was beautiful, put your face between the thumb and fingers of one hand, and draw your hand softly down from your forehead to your chin. A faint smirk or smile made at the same time greatly helps this sign. If the beauty you tell about was a woman, make believe take hold of a mass of hair on the right side of your head, and follow it down past the shoulder with your hand, as you see women do when they dress their hair. These signs -for seeing, hearing, sleep, beauty, and women are exactly the same as those used by George L. Fox, the famous clown, when be played Humpty Dumpty. I have no doubt that Grimaldi, the great English clown, also used them, for they are the natural motions for expressing those terms. Did you ever know how the paws of small animals are curled in when they are dead ? That is the sign_ for " died" or " dead." Hold one hand out with the fingers bent towards the thumb to make the sign. But if you would say some one was killed, hold out a fist with the knuckles away from you, and move the wrist slowly so as to force the knuckles down as if the person was struck down. To tell about a child, hold your hand as far from the ground as its head would reach. Put a finger up to either side of the head to say " cow"; to say, " deer," put up all your fingers like branching horns. But another way to tell about a deer is to imitate his loping with one of your hands. To tell of a snake, wiggle one finger in the air as a snake - would move on the ground. That sign is the name for two tribes of Indians. The sign for a Sioux is to make believe cut your throat with one finger ; for a. Blackfoot,point to your foot; fora Blood wipe your fingers across your mouth ; for a white man, rub your hand across your fore- head to show how white our foreheads are ; for a Piegan, rub one cheek. The sign for water is to make a scoop of your hand and put it to your mouth as yon would if you were drinking at a stream. To tell of a lake, make that sign, and spread out your hands to cover a big space. To tell of a river, make the writer sign, and then trace the meandering course of a river with your finger. But the sign for whisky is made by doubling up one fist and drinking out of the top of it as if it were a bottle. If you do that, and make believe to stir up your brains with one finger, or reel a little, you will describe a tipsy man. Nearly all signs in the language are made with the right hand.—[Stalian Ralph o At .Easter Time. Ring happy bells of Easter time, The burdened world awaits your chime! - Across the fields of fleeting snow The vernal zephyrs gently blow, -- Bird, breeze and brooklet blend in rhyme At Easter time. Ring blithsome bells of Easter time! Hearts hear love's choral in your chime :— " The Lord is risen! Away with fear! Heaven's glad " Good -morning " draweth near ! The world swings swiftly to its prime At Easter time. Ring hope -full bells of Easter time! Our souls respond to peal and chime The gates of life stand open wide-- - No barriers, dark, the saints divide, - We join Heavens harmonies sublime At Easter time. - LLEweevet A.'Moxrarsoer. "The Elms," Toronto. A Resemblance- " Alderman McBoodle is a pian, ain't he?" said a. friend other day. " Yes," replied another, "I was taken far him once." Yon ! whycare for that, I was taken, for PEARLS OF TRUTH. tttequires'a definite aim to !mike a hit in life. . The society of good people is always good solittle. iety. Itakes a thinker to make another think- er thinatik Impence dries the blood sooner than age or sorrow. Our best successes are built upon a foun- dation of failut as. Thoreau once said "There any apology for despondency." As an appliance for the improvement of our friends a habit of scolding possesses no appreciable virtue. A man's real possession is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.—[Alexander Smith. Domestic rule is founded on truth and love. If it has not both of these it is nothing better than a despotism, The temper of reformers is enthusiastic and hence they almost inevitably exagger- ate the evils they seek to correct. Be easy of address and courteous in con- versation, and then everybody will think it a pleasure to have dealings with you. Perhaps to suffer is nothing else than to live more deeply. Love and sorrow are the two conditions of a profound life. Twenty men who believe what they pro- fess, and live as they believe, are worth more than five hundred hypocrites to any good causemak. We e provisions for this life as if it were never to have an end, and for the other life as though it were never to have a bee inning. Pain is the spurring of nature that comes to remind a man that he has gone off the track of happiness and to bring him back again. I know of nothing in our day more pain- fully and surely indicative of the interior wrongness of our life than the inability everywhere manifest to rest and be quiet. There is no real life but cheerful life ; therefore valetudinarians should be sworn before they enter to company not to say a word of themselves till the meeting breaks up. It is well enough to be humble, but it is possible to boast of your humility until it emirs into the worst kind of self -pride. e'hereishardly a virtuein the calender which a man will not lose if he talks much about is nowhere fine-looking of our the. „rim I went on his bail .bond and;waa taken for him -by the sheriff." it. Without earnestness no man is ever great, or really does great things. He may be the cleverest of men ; he may be bril- liant, entertaining, popular, but he will want weight. No soul -moving picture was ever painted that had not it in depth of shadow. ' The art of not hearing should be learned by all—there are so many things which it is painful to hear, very many of which, if heard, will disturb the temper, corrupt sim- plicity and modesty, and detract from con- tentment and happiness. Faith w Lich loves not isnot faith, it is dead. It is Iike a body without a soul. Love is the life of faith, both should grow together. The more we love the more we trust. Want of love is the cause of all want of faith. To preserve faith look above all things, in all things, unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of thy faith.—[Pusey. Leap Year Ode. And this is leap year', so it is, Just once in every four, It adds but one day to this month ; Just this and nothin' more, The seasons all remain the same As what they used to be ; While girls may to their lovers say, Now, will you marry me ? And this time-honored privilege, That this the leap year brings To girls quite willing to be wed, Means heaps cf other things ; It means a home, oh, meaning word, Made up of loves and cares, And makes them think of pillow shams, Of bedroom sets and chairs. It means mankind's most honest state Then earnest life begins, And makes them think of girls and boys That sometimes come as twins Now then young man, heed my lesson, There's purpose in myries me, 'Tis to guard you from the danger Of some leap year design. For should some girl propose to you, And you by chance accept, Let me picture your position, If not in fact, effect. Then your wife will wear the breeches Throughout your life's career, While you in meek submission The petticoats may wear. When you see this trouble coming, The symptoms you may trace, As there's premonitions always, Of a crisis in the case, Go and boldly pop the question, - 'Twill save you anxious thoughts, Then, you may parade in breeches, Leave her the petticoats. Just take her little hand in yours, eYour other round her waist, Squeeze her gently lest the timbers In her corsets be displaced- ; Speak it softly, say it fondly, " Oh Sarah Ann Maginnis, Can I be your ` hubby' Or shall my name be ' Dinnis?' " She will in choicest language then Consent to be your wife, To make it more emphatic, say, " I will, 'you bet your life."' Won then, after this you needn't Promenade so very late, Or stand and chew the pickets That adorn the little gate. Yes, you may then run the parlor, The dining room and hall For a season. With her mother Be dady of them all, All your virtues will be canvassed, All your failings will be hid, And we hope you wont repent it For doing as you did. - Now just one single act remains This comedy to end, And trust you'll find in Sarah Ann An ever constant friend. Go and get a marriage license, Don't forget the First Command, And in honor swell the census, Do your duty ; be a man. JA1IEs SINCLAIR. Feb. 29th, 1892. THE WOLF CHILDREN. Seised by Wolves, They Partake of the .aima1's Nature. The Rev, Dr. Jr--- -e H. Seelya 'tirites as 'ollows in the Congregationalist ,— le November, 1872, I saw at Secundra, near Agra, in Nothern India, a boy who had been drought up among wolves. I published an ,ccount of his appearance at the thee, and some further facts which I have lately learn- ei concerning him will also be of interest, lie was found in 1867. Some men, passim through an unfrequented jungle, suddenl' came upon a child apparently five or silt years old, without clothes and running upon his hands and feet. They tried to catch bin but he disappeared in a large hole which was evidently the lair of some wil:,i beast, Unable to unearth him by digging, and not daring into the hole themselves, they re' ported the fact to the magistrate ot the dire trict, who directed them to start a fire al the mouth of the den and smoke out its in. mates of whatever sort they might be. The fire was started, when presently a large she. wolf dashed out of the hole, scattering the fire and speeding away for safety. She was soon followed by the boy, whom the men had seen before, and whom they now caught with difficulty. He was evidently a child of human parentage, but with the appetities and ways of a wolf. He could not walk erect, he was without clothes, he had no language but a whine, he would eat nothing but raw flesh, and would lap his drink like a wolf. Put into an inclosure, he would lie in a corner during the day, and at night would prowl abut picking up bones and ravenously gnawing them. After keeping him a while the magistrate brought him to an orphanage at Secunda, under the care of the church missionary so- ciety, where he was kindly received and cared for and where he has since been an object of unceasing wonder to the many who have seen him there. He has been taught to walk erect—though he does this awk- wardly—to wear clothes, to drink like a human being and to use a fork and spoon. He has lost his appetite for raw flesh, and he has no longer any disposition to escape. He has also been taught to do a little work, but he doe's not like to work. He has be- come wholly inoffensive, and mingles freely with the children, among whom he has his favorites. He evidently hears well, and understands many things which are told him, but he has never uttered a word or shown any wish to speak, though many efforts have been made to teach him articu- lation. He is now, as far as can be judged, about thirty years of age. His forehead is low, but his features are regular, and his eyes, though wild and restless, have not an idiotic look. His jaws do not protrude, and his teeth are regular and human. His arms, legs and body differ from those of an ordin- ary human being only so far as incident to his habits of locomotion when he was first Those who are constrained to solicit for assistance are really to be pitied ; those who receive' it without, are to he envied ; but those bestow it unasked, are to be -admired. found. How far he has ever become conscious of moral or religious trath it is impossible to say. The nearest approach he has shown to something like au apprehension of an un- seen world was in connection with the death of one who bad cared for him and of whom he was very fond. At the funeral, as the body was lowered into the grave, the poor boy looked wistfully at the coffin and then at the bystanders, evidently wondering what it all meant. By gestures and other signs, by feigning to be sick and dying, and then pointing downward and upward, the bystanders seemed to awaken in him some strange thought of something which could not be seen, and afterward, when sick him- self, he laid down and closed his eyes and pointed to the earth and sky. From a friend in India, who has recently seen him, I learn that he is still living at the orphanage where he, was first taken, and in a report of the orphanage, which has lately come into my hands, I find also the statement that three other children —two boys and a girl—found under similar circum- stances and all with similar characteristics, have been brought to the institution, though none of these have lived -longer than a few months after their capture. Their are also other well -authenticated instances of a simi- lar sort. These strange stories awaken many inquiries which which are not easily answered. We find no instance yet of the wolf evolving itself into the human, but here we have the human easily losing its most essential characteristics and tak(.ug on the type of a wolf. Does the human life left to itself find degradation more natural than development Throwing the Shoe. In the middle ages the bride was led to church by the bridegroom's men, the bride- groom by the bridesmaids ; according to the Sarum missal, sops of wafers, immersed in wine, were blessed by the priest and dis- tributed to all the wedding company at the conclusion of ' the ceremony, as previously stated—an evident imitation of the Roman " confarreation." So also is the custom of scattering wheat over the bride, in token of fruitfulness, which originated in the worship of the god- dess Ceres, and whichrstill lisigers among us in the form of rice. The throwing the shoe is a relic of an Anglo-Saxon custom. In those early days the bride's father de- livered her shoe to the husband, who touch- ed her with it on the forehead, to denote his authority over her. This custom was probably founded upon a possible misinter- pretation of Ruth iv. ,7. In the middle English period weddings were scenes of great state and festivity. The bridegroom presented to eall the guests, scarfs, gloves, and garters of his favorite colors, and received in return gifts of plate and other household goods. Bence our modern ideas as to wedding presents. What Then. Parson Baxter—I'se mighty sorry to heah dat you and your wife keep on a fightin like cats and dogs. Sam Johnsing—I'se mighty sorry myself, but dar's no help for hit, I has prayed to de Lawd about me and my wife, dat one ob us be tucken away. - Parson Baxter—'Sposen de Lewd heahs yer prar, and one ob you be taken away -- what den? Sam Johnsing—Ef de Lawd heah my prar and one ob us is tucken away, den I'se gwine ter move to Washington and marry a white woman. A Matter of Wages. "1 otserve, James,''- said the employer, " that you say ` eeth -r' and 'neether.' Are you not aware that such is not our pronun- ciation of those words ?" " It doesn't seem to me," replied the boy despondently, " that you ought to expect me to say eyether ' and ' nythe't ' on a sal- ary•of ten dollars a month." Of all the earthlymusic that wi`W retches farthest into Heaven is the beating of a truly loving heart.—iii. W. Beecher. Jimmieboy (viewi nga kald-headed baby _ - "Papa, aren't you going to p'i nt any hair onhim ?" eshe eke An' In a I con Wha Laks An` Dra My co When An' 'e In u A -s• I sets When 'N' di An' Des I don - When At de An' .< Kett l stea When An' de An' Sque I don' Tell de Gets in Dat, Dur Td som Some a Ef 'twa An' !o id De le -llluth Mc ® The Lake eel mending sk powerful a which are our Atlant a veritable quickly the water take ways cold, far around have been t meat, that the open la ren heft. As cannot swiu to '.earn the expelt swim any great le When I wa point, I fou some who -.greed upon. a profession of age, who had visited t that he had its waters ne he admitted very long. -diem some s confirmed my seamen have 1 coldness of th who fall into long he sup life, or cling t swered, very s some men cou others, and ti man possessed alive.. " But,' ever saw fall shot before we supposed he to The bodies o rise to the surf and the deco ascent of huma not take place. tion to my note to which fishes that many a ha ties as he died, will ever thus r under the dark depths. —[Harp Linking the career of Deemi Australia for m ren, the police marvelous trim Since starting crime at Sycne operatedsuccess Brisbane, Queen Christchurch, N been discovered name of Delmart his wife ; Wellin married and rob Sydney, to whi ed ; Cape Tow ban, Natal and perpetrated su cleared Durban bique, thence India, thence tra Sea to England, Hull and Liver fled to Montcvid bis road has teen escapes ha'e bee rapidity of his m ecuti onand his p guise. The Scot Clare that from fu and facts in their state positively t have been implica chapel or Jack-th coroner's jury inv the women and fo were found beried Villa at :;,sin hill n erdiet of wilful mu Rightl "I've auite cont Some farm of i - "What style of Would most be One glance at hit The r:aiden did, " Why, ` mutton know You've such a s He 9'1 aE ""She's avrful ain't 11 Dreadful. " Rie"keSh.e" flirts with e "Yes ; w'..;y doesn "He's her fiance, y1 i Paltry affection an easily attained by t wear them; but they ante or stupidity whe please. �-[Goldsmith Docnmer-ts found miters a s e o �in Dtt rible programme of d - been--"+erl oeit. Am have been rl out. u ' Depntfes and tae c Palace, eaeses