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?Imlay Sept. OW 1892
ONTARIO APPLE CROP.
E, • VIEW LARGELY UNDER THE
AYEttAOE—TUE BRITISH TRA.PE
. —CROPS ELSEWHERE.
The following estimate 'of the
quantity of apples upoti the trees in
the different districts of the Pro-
'•vinoe is based upon the replies of
producers from all parts of Ontario.
jtt applies to fall and winter apples
,otlly, and does.not include the pro-
duota, of town and village orchards :
Tocol
roduct,
-barrels.
Lake Ede. 3.27,870
Lake Hnron 395,728
(foorgian Bay 304,984
West Midland 729,695
Lake Ontario 1,142,400
St. Lawrence and Ottawa 352,752
East Midland 115,573
Northern 5.079
Total 3,384,179
Moet of out informants state that
on the whole the apple crop of On-
tario is less than one—half a full
crop, and that owing to spotting
the above figures in reality represent
too high an estimate of yield.
BRITISH APPLE IMPORTS.
'For the ton years, 1882,18 91, the
British apple imports averaged
$3,935,424, the largest of the de•
cade being 1891, when they amount-
ed to $5,032,119. During the
same ton years the. United States
exports averaged $1,903,612. The
apple trade of the United States
consisted partly of green fruit, 70
to 80 percent of which goes to
Eugland, and partly of dried,
or evaporated fruit which goes to
Germany, France, Holland and
Belgium. Tho bulk of Canadian
exports goes to Great Britain.
. The following table refers to
apples only :—
British United States Canadian
Year imports. exports exports,
1530 84,742,102 93,450,445 91,532,303
1800 3,825,550 2,26),113 997,093
1391 5 032.110 896,502 1,438,763
813,509,765 86,507,065 93,963,060
The large Canadian and United
tatos exports of the fall of 1891
're not included in the above, as the
ear ends on June 30.
THE CROP IN THE UNITED STATES.
Apple trees in the principal sec-
tion blossomed profusely, but fruit
failed to set well, rains, excessive
drouth, cold nights and late frosts
being responsible in different dis-
tricts. With the advance of the
season the conditions did not im-
prove. The •condition of apples
on July lst was much below the
prospect on June lat. Maine is
good, Southern Now England States
under average, New York very poor,
especially in the west, Ohio,
Michigan, Kansas and Missouri
poor. On the whore this is an off
year in most of the apple -growing
states.
THE YIELD IN EUROPE.
Reports from most of our corres-
pondents indicate a short crop of
inferior quality in England. In
England: In France and Belgium
a medium crop is expected ; . in
Denmark and Holland the crop is
under the average ; in Germany it is
poor. The European crop, indlud-
ing that of England, is about ono -
half do average crop, and the
quality in most countries is not the
best. There is likely t3 be there-
fore a good demand in British
markets for good Canadian apples,
providing we have. them to ship in
paying guantities.
District.
THE TEO IN THE F/400B.
he
ve11t>r91t xp erela*tra
pxk+
e
in have often be nre nr rk btl and
• favorite story -teller 18alwavfurnished wltb9
•
`OLA NOT SO PRECIOUS.
SiA3�•�- r1.,-..t+.n ' ss:eons we have
relied ort Dr. Fowler's Extract of Wild
Strawberry for all Bummer complaints.
A few doses always give relief and it
never fails to cure. We think it a very
valuable medicine ; as precious- as gold.
MRs. F. C. WII OER,
Font Hill, Ont.
•
a9caunta of one on mere o theta, We are
willing to matcla the tale which follows, with
any oofthe Rinds d shah t e apfueexed before
1t, , - r thrilling and b S 1.
On the 29th of December, 1846, X was
*trolling •through the southwestern part
of Virginia, and, owing to the violence of a
sudden snow -storm, was belated and forced
to pass the, night at a little wayside tavern
remote from ordinary routes of travel,
I don't mind confessing that I was then a
fcod -looking baolielor on the .sunny side of
orty, nor that I was what I call a travel-
ling merchant, but most folks denominate a
geddlar. Now, I am only a 8uperannu•
ated old man, At for nothing
but to tell tales of what happened
to him in his younger days.
That was before a network of railroads
covered the country, and we 'commercial.
gents" who could afford it travelled in light.
covered wagons, carrying our goods with
us. I had been making u longish stay in
Norfolk, laying in my stook, and, when my
business there was finished, I started west,
intending to visit some of the inland vil-
lages and plantations. As I said before, 1
had got belated and bewildered • by the
storm, and stumbling on this little lonely
house of entertainment, determined to put
up there for the night.
I can't say I was much pleased with the
looks of things'
for a more lonesome and
desolate place I never beheld ; nor were
the countenances of mine host and his wife
more prepossessing. I had some valuabh.
goods in my wagon and a gond horse.
besides some money, so I was worth role•
bins and perhaps murdering. It was Hob -
son's choice, however, so I decided to make
the best of it ; and, after a supper of fried
bacon and eggs and corn bread, I asked to
be shown to my Nom.
It was a truly wretched affair, that room,
being nothing more than a shed attached to
the rough, boarded cabin dignified by the
title of tavern, with a single unglazed win-
dow closed by a heavy shutter. It was as
cold vis the dickens, and after having all my
packs placed in the room and seeing the
door and window securely fastened, I tum-
bled into bed, not examining the condition
of the sheets too closely, but praying there
might be cover enough to keep me from
froezfng.
I soan fell asleep, for I was dead beat
with driving 'so far in the cold, and over the
vilest roads tint ever mortal travelled. 1
must have slept or some time, for when I
awoke all the lights in the house were out,
,diel everything was profoundly quiet. W hat
—Mitchell Record : Inspector
Coppin got a conviction last week
aginst the keeper of the halfway
house in Downie, on the Stratford
and St. Marys road. One of the
complaints was that the proprieto
kept no provender for horses abou
he premises.
r
t
Sallow and leaden•hued complexions
soon give place to the loveliest pink
and -white , when the use of Ayer's Ssr•
■aparilla is persisted in,and cosmetics en-
tirely abandoned. Nothing can counter-
feit the rosy glow of perfect health
which blesses those who use this medic-
ine.
next perteheet heists Ate,' 11u to
this pl.easitig discovery., the reinnant of 0915*
aft,expired and X wag left to total Ilaritaaess.
.am, net, a, ward', though Z don't set yip
c
o an a a. 10�
fora t d na..n Others who litid
h 1 like Rt a
themselves, in �t:st ai r Y 1 i nothing
a i,.t f Rip*' w} oh n tl. t g
but eaurage and t'owe of mind Oa de.
liver *bona I nuc deafly ile'Rloped hitherto
,unknown reserves of those, admirable qnall-
ties,=' I resolved tbat, if I must be,robbed
•in4 mur'der'ed, I would at least cite hard,
Among the goods purchased in Norfolk
was a hunting knife bought on commission
for a planto�' near Stauntod, It was a
splendid weapon., with rielrly carved handle
and sheath, and a short, strong blade, sharp
and true as Toledo steel. Luckily, I had
not packed ft in my bales, but
had placed it , in the valise which con.
mined my clothes, I stole like a shadow
across the room, trembling lest the creaking
of a plank in the crazy floor should betray
me, opened the beg and seized the knife.
With this in my hand, I did not feel entire.
ly defenceless, and -with renewed hope and
confidence I took my stand close by the
trap, 'determined if my room was- entered,
to do my best in defonee of my life and
property, and devoutly hoping the number
of my assailants might be limited to the
landlord and his wife.
I waited minute after minute, until my
blood, so lately stirred by a sense of extreme
peril, grew chill in my veins from the ex-
cessive cold. Suddenly I head what seem-
ed a stealthy step crunching the snow with-
out. Directly after, the trap was very
slowly and softly raised ; a long bony hand,
holding a tallow candle, protruded through
the opening, and a gray, withered face
appeared below, with widely staring eyes
following the light of the candle around the
MOM.
I shrank as close to the wall as I could,
hut I knew I could not remain long undis•
covered, and as the light and the eyes ap-
proached me, I startedforward and struck
with all my force on the wrist that upheld
the candle.
The keen blade cut through hone and
nuscle, and hand and candle fell with a
sickening thud on the floor, •wh?te a single
shrill, agonized scream told that my victim
was a woman. I shivered through all any
body, and, breathless with horror, waited
in the darkness for an instant attack. I
heard nothing, however, except a stifled
moaning,'which gradually died away.
I waited and waited, half -frozen with
Bold and fear. Nothing happened. At last,
I could stand it no louger, and determined
to get in bed at til hazards. Groping about
in the dark, I in•tna.ged to pile my heaviest
hales on the trap,.ao that it could not be
opened without noise ; then, crouching on
the bed, I wrapped the blankets around me
lo keep from -freezing, and mado up my
mind to watch till morning.
The gsp1:Nn$tlon,,
Love and Heath Rues 000 .$61
called for wwue, awl threw, atm 1
Ea iv o Ott/grate,
la u . er
v . cls �
9
When the bout, was 9'er the,' fouud
[angled arrow strewed •the ground+
Hasttlyp� tbey gathered then
Ertvb tehe byes find 11yes of men,
Oh,, the fateVali dawn deceived. l
Mingled arrows each one sheaved 1
Death's dread armoury was stored
With the shafts of tile most abhorred 1
Love'e light quiver groaned beneath
Venom -headed darts of death.
Thus it was they wreught our woe
At the Tavern long ago.
Tell me, do our masters know,
Loosing blindly as they fly, •
Old men love while young ,men die ?
—Rudyard Kipling.
At the T1tVelrii of *WA 1 f 0 their
had awakened me I could not toll, but all of I thought that night of hor-
s sudden I found myself sitting up m bed,
with lay eyes staring wildly at theblank for trould never end, but, at
darkness, and m hair stirring and liftinn last, gra' streaks of dawn shone through
on any ]read. Ay strange feeling posscaaa, the cracks in the window -shatters, and 1
me that something uncanny, sonuthiil•4 devoutly thanked God it was over and that
dreadful, perhaps deadly, was near m , but I had lived to sue daylight again.
I could neither see nor hear a ly tiling. As soon as 1 could sec clearly, I got Iv
and cautiously moved my bales, shuddering
After waiting for some moments in that in anticipation of finding the hand I ha
state of intense suspense which follows a cut off last night, But what was my -
astonishment to findsieitiicr hand nor can•
dle, nor even a stain of blood on the flour :
nothing, actually nothing, to tell of Iasi
night's horror. Had it, then really bee:.
only a dreadful dream ?
Ah, the knife ! I eagerly snatched it up.
Yes, there was the red witness plain enough.
still wet, and crimsoning the blade from
point to handle. Yet on turning again to
the floor there was no stain there, and on
close inspection it looked solid plank from
end to end. -
Well !" thought I, "of all the queer
places I ever heard of, this one takes the
ead. But..for this knife I should be tempted
to believe the events
of last night
onlya
vivid dream. This, however, is indisputable
evidence of what happened, and of on(
thing I am very certain—the sooner I get
away from here, the better for my health."
I wiped the knife on the skirt of my coat,
and placed it in any bosom, taking very
good care to have the handle convenient for
laying hold of. I then opened the door,
not without many inward misgivings, and
called to the - landlord to bring out any
wagoli.
He soon appeared, sullen an dogged as
ever, but I saw no change in him since last
night. He offared me breakfast, which I at
once refused ; not for worlds would I have
eaten or drunk in that house. I was in 0
necessarily a brief and imperfect survey, fever of impatience to be nil•, and after pay -
and I struck another and another, but ing his bill in the smallest change I had,
could see nothing. and without any unnecessary display of
There was an end of tallow candle on the wealth, I stood by and watched hien replace
sudden shock from sleep, I regained suffi-
cient self-possession to remember that I
had a box of matches in my pocket, and I
reaehed out my hand for any clothes which
I had left lying on a chair by the bedside.
Something moist and warns touched it,
licking it like the tongue of a dog.
I felt immensely relieved. Of course it
was a dog ; a dog which had been sleeping
under the bed and had crawled out to make
acquaintance with the new inmate. I Lay
down, drew the bedclothes over me,' and
tried to sleep again ; but I could not. The
strange, eerie feeling grew stronger every
moment. I could not persuade myself it
dog indog would
really a the room. A
was n e y
have made some noise ; I should have heard
it scratching or moving about, but every-
thing was deadly still.
While I lay vainly trying to reason
myself .into going to sleep, a soft,
warm touch passed rapidly over my
face. What on earth ,was it? What could
it be? Nothing human, I was sure. Now,
I really must strike a light and see what
was in the room.
With desperate determination I grabbed •
my clothes, got the matches and struck
one. As it blazed ,I cast a furtive, fright-
ened glance around. What I. expected to
see I can't say, but something horrible.
The match lasted such a short time, it was
—Robt. Creery, sen., of the 10th
con of Ueborne, arrived home last
week after a visit to his native
country, Ireland. He crossed in
the Parisian, a fellow paesengor
with J. McCurdy, post master of
Kirkton, and the Hon. Edward
Blake, M. P.
pgli80t 111..,,
The traveller who 161ehe Tol*toi in hitt,
ho..nne with preeoneelved ifvtloila of tho lzus•
ri an Qfor 9 s�crpgnal1t
is at ti l
t v
iev
surprised
ar re9 aneisaypof ted fat' the
t
pplarsto b*very lain ard steeple an,
physically anal lntelloetilally like any of the
peaitautsin the neighboring village that a
glanae from his small and pllerolung gray -
blue eyes, which look the visitor through
and through, and a wise saying uttered or,
hand, at once dissipate the de1uslen, Tol-
ated is very cordial in his intercourse with
strangers and a genial companion with his
guests. lie is one of the kindest -hearted of
men, always on the alert to avoid hurting
-any one's feelings. On all occasion* he
wears the gray woolen blouse and sheep-
skin coat of the peasant, with top -boots en
his foot.
Thomas Cook, with whose name all traysel-
lers are well acquainted, died at his home
near Leicester, England, en July 10th. Mr.
Cook was born Nevember 22nd, 1808, and
as a young man gave evidences of great
ability in the Terme linos of work which
he undertook. Ile was Much interested in -
the temperance agitation, which in 1841 at-
tracted much attention, and In connection.
with a large open-air meeting hold
in Leicester the first C6ok Excur-
sion was arranged. Railroads were
novelties then, and the high rates of fare
prevented them from being better known,
but 111r. Cook made arrangements for a
specfal train at a low faro, and su erin-
tended his own popular excursion. From
that time hie field of work in that particu-,
ler line has grown and spread, until to -day
the travelled world is familiar with his
name and success. Mr. Gladstone has said
that Mr. Cook has been "ono of the most
important factors in England's progress
during the past half century."
Andrew Carnegie's present prominence
before the public recalls an exploit of his
youth soon after he became a telegraph
operator at Pittsburg nearly forty year* ago.
Because of the high water in the Ohio, the
smokestack of a steamboat had carried
away the wires across the river at Steuben•
ville, and young Carnegie, who was then
barely sixteen years old, was sent to take
care of the messages until the line could bo
repaired. He received the messages coming
from the West, and despatched them by
boat to Wheeling every few hours, accom-
plishing the task so skilfully that soon after
his return to the main office he was pro-
moted.
So many French people of consequence,
from kings and duchesses down, have been
fond of posing as amateur cooks that it is
not surprising to learn that Alexandre Du-
mas took great pride in his culinary skill.
Adieetives.
Adjectives are the trouble. They have
so inereaaed in intensity from overusage that
it taken an adjective ten times the power
now to express the moaning desired. Rap -
Wrens and blissful mean alpilt as much as
"very nice" and "extremely enjoyable" used
to do. But I shall never sound a dirge for
"enjoyable." It is one of the worst and
weakest of qualifiers and ought never to be
heard. It is a rnisnornor, too, for when yon
say an evening was enjoyable, you mean
that it was enjoyed. "Pleasantis weak.
too, and so is "warm" as applied tc
weather. The sun is hot when it shines it
summer, and "warm weather," like "warm
water," is ometical in its very sound. Stroh,.
Saxon words of every description are best,
and vigorous adjectives are especially so.
Vigorous, however, does not mean overdone
or anti -climatical. The adjective "ele-
gant," misapplied, appears to have had iti
day, and gone out, in the inelegant circles
in which it did such hard service.
Everything which met with approbation.
from a sunset to a plate of- soap, wa:
"elegant" to a certain class. In Englani
Americans are credited with "real elegant,'
which,'I ani happy to say, I have never had
the pain of hearing. "Real nice" and "real
pleasant" are still heard in the rural dis-
tricts, but the eity intensives have crept in
with the railways and displaced the old-
timers somewhat.
Men use few adjectives, as a rule—men•of
mature years, that is, not the freshman or
the early cigarette tnan—while women of
all ages employ a great many with which to
weaken their speech. Ladies are also lavish
in adverbs, which it is the latest fancy in
speech to use inappropriately, for fun. "I
promised to do so-and-so, which I 'prompt-
ly' forgot"—(that style)—is much in vogue.
and "1 like it awfully." "Very pleased'
is also the thing now, and the • old-
fashioned "very much pleased" has quite
unpainted wooden table which did duty for
a washstand. But that was at the other
side of the room, and to save my life I
could not summon courage to get out of
bed. I am ashamed to confess it, but an
absolutely paralyzing terror had mastered
me. I literally could not stir. I lay still,
with closed eyes, trying desperately hard to
go to sleep, but try as hard as I might that
touch roused me again and again.
"What was it?" I asked over and over.
I could not be dreaming. I knew I was not
asleep. I wasbroad awake and every nerve
in me was twitching and quivering with ex-
citement. And now, as I opened my eyes
and looked fearfully at the corners of the
room, trying to piercethe shadows as people
will do when badly scared in the dark, a
a strange thing happened, which I Is m't
suppose anyone will believe, but its' as trite
as that I'm living.
The room, as I have said, was intensely
dark, but as I looked towards tip outside
wall, it seemed to me it was not quite so
dark there as elsewhere. A faint, huninous
haze seemed to grow out of the darkness,
and as I gazed at it breathlessly, it gradual-
' 1y took form and substance, and grew into
the pale likeness of a human being, with
something, but I could not 'see What, crouch-
ing at its feet. I rubbed my eyes hard and
stared at these strange appearances until 1
seemed dimly to perceive that the thing
crouching on the floor was the shadoway
presentment of a dog. At the moment I fan-
cied I had made this discovery, a long, lots,
mournful howl sounded through the room
—the most doleful and lugubrious wail I
ever heard. At the same instant, a shadowy
hand from the human figure seemed to
point to a spot on the floor over which it
hovered. Then the apparations vanished
and all was darkness.
As will sometimes happen, extremity of
fear now gave me courage. With to desper-
ate determination to fathom these mys
teries, if possible, I leaped from the bed.
huddled on my clothes, and, lighting the
candle, I approached the spot where Ibhad
seen, or fancied I had seen, these strange
appearances. After as close a scrutiny as
the wretched light would allow, I found
something that looked suspicious.
In the floor, close by the outer wall, a
space had been sawed, large enough to ad-
mit the body of a man, and the planks
fitted in again closely enough to avoid
attracting notice, yet so as to be easily -
raised from beneath. Locks and bars
were useless with such a means of in-
gress as this, and my late supernatural
terrors were now succeeded by more reason-
able bodily fears. I recalled the villainous
countenance of my landlord, the still more
repulsive look of his wife, thought of my
valuable possessions, anal decided I Was
fairly trapped in a murderous den, where.
probably. many an unfortunate traveller
my packages in the wagon, and harness the
horse. I dal not offer to assist him ; I was
too much afraid of being taken at a disad
vantage. I kept my hand on my trusty
weapon, and never took my eyes off the
surly villain. His amiable helpmate di,i
not make her appearance, and I
thought I could give a shrewd
guess at the reason. I made no inquiries
sifter her health, but jumped in my wagon
and drove off.
To this day I cannot account for my es-
cape. The fellow must have seen that 1
suspected hila, and mist have guessed at
the witness to his attempted crime which I
carried with me, yet he made no effort to
stop me. I can only suppose lie was an ar-
rant coward with all his brutality, and
dared not attack me, knowing me to be
armed and on my guard ; especially after
his accomplice was disabled.
It was nearly two years afterward that I
was travelling the same road again, and
passed by the scene of my memorable ad
venture. I had, I assure you, no intention
of calling, but I found the appearance of
the place so changed that I made sure it no
longer belonged to my former friends, and
curiosity tempted me to stop and ask what
had become of them.
Everything about now wore a thrifty and
cheerful look, and so did the comely dank
who answered my knock. U umn inquiring
after the former occupants, I heard, with-
out surprise or regret, that they had at last
received the punishment they so richly de-
served. The disappearance of a traveller,
who was known and expected in the neigh
boring town, led to suspicion, and suspicion
to search.
"And would you believe, sir," continued
the good woman, "they found a trap-door
in that shed -room there with a false floor,
and under it was a deep hole with the tra-
veller's body in it, and the skeletons of an-
other man and a dog, poor thing ! They
killed him, I suppose, for trying to defend
his master. And the wicked wretches was
put in jail and hung, and we bought the
place dirt cheap because it had such a had
name. Some folks says it's haunted, but
laws ! I ain't never seed nothing, and I
ain't scared of ghosts nohow."
I did not disturb her comfortable skepti-
cism by relating lay experiences in that
house, but I believed then, as I believe now,
that a supernatural warning saved my life
on that night of terror.
gone out. "Directly you carne," which has He is said, indeed, to have been prouder of
no 'excuse in grammatical construe'' •1, is making a stew than of writing a auccessful
also in style, and it is considered bad form novel or play, and h ewas the only frequent -
to criticise it. The two last furs of course er of the famous Cafe de Paris who was
direct importations from the Bt•itish Isles, ever allowed to enter its kitchens. George
and therefore desirable. "Quite" in its Eliot had a similar liking for going into
perverted meaning of "rather" is no longer the kitchen, and, according to popular
correct, I ant glad to say. This Anglicism tradition, it gave her great gratification to
is a decided improvement. "Quite a pleas- snake a good omelet.
John C. Eno, the most distinguished of the
American exiles in Canada, lives comfort-
ably m Quebec in a handsome brownstone
house, and is frequently seen in society.
IIe is said to he the life of the luxurious
Union Club, which owns its existence in
great part to his efforts, and is popular and
contented. He has grown stout in recent
years, and now weighs -abcut two hundred
pounds, while his face is ruddy; and there is
every physical evidence that cxisttence is
agreeable with him,
Few people were aware that any descend-
ants of the poet Burns were living, and the
news that his line is about to become extinct
is less startling • than interesting. Tho
poet's great -great .grandson, a child but a.
few months old, died in Chicago recently,
andYlyingdangerously
the child's father is
hurt in a hospital in that city. The only
other surviving relatives of the Scotch bard
are the mother and aunt of the dying man,
who live in London, and are old and feeble.
The late General Hardunge, the Queen's
Equerry, was one of the bravest of Eng-
land's soldiers. He entered the army in
1844, when a youth of sixteen,. and up to
the time when, in 1890. the was relieved of
the command of Gibraltar his service was
most distinguished. IIe fought with great
credit in the Punjaub, at Balaklava, Inker-
man, 'and Sevastopol, and later in Afghan-
istan, and was honored with many medals
and clasps in recognition of his valor. From.
1881 to 1885 he was commander-in-chief of
the forces in Bombay.
ant evening,'' that mawkish form of express
ing enjoyment, nobody with social preten
sions world dare to be heard utterin7
nowadays; while " Quite well again," iln
plying complae recovery, is in corm of
use. Dreadful and splendid preceded b•
perfectly, are out of favor, and this Barbar
isle, "a perfectly splendid tine," left
thank*6 oodness, to very young git u
idiots. "Rare (for rarely) good sport" i.
heard commonly now, and "ruga go"—bra
the last is pure slang and I am not veutur
ing within that sacred sty.—Chicago Post
Manners.
We are all familiar with 11Ir. du Maurie7'i
Duchess, who has either `company mem.
we 111
andl
hers" or no manners at all
that the dear lady to confess is not al-
together a libellous caricature of eertai:
members of her class. It does not folios
that either the Duchess in question, or the
butler, or anyone whose manners are bac
by nature, and. indifferently good. by art
is also by nature bad -hearted and insincere.
Some of the best and most well-meanin;
people in the world have the worst man-
ners, and wear their artificial manners wit'
the worst grace. They aro conscious that
their manners are not natural to them,
and their own honesty makes their assump•
tion of that outward politeness of demeanor
the more awkward and constrained. The
really well-mannered man is the man tc
whom bad manners are a natural impossi-
bility ; to whole it is as difficult to be rude
or brusque as it is to another, and per-
haps better -natured man, to 0e courteous
and polity "A man may smile, and smile,
and he a villain"—in Denmark, at least, it
was the case—and 80 it is quite possible for
a man to have perfect manners by nature,
and yet be as finished a scoundrel as he is
outwardly a finished gentleman. Manners
are by no gleans an infallible index of the
real state of the Hurn whom they *dare.
And yet they certainly do make the man,
as far as his commerce with other men is
concerned, and are of greater value to Trim
in his relations with the outside world than
many other more sterling qualities. Polite-
ness and courtesy, such as is universal in
every class and degree of life in Japan, de
much to smooth the way of life, both for
ourselves and for others. Iinglish people,
as a rule, even of the better and most edu-
cated classes, do not achieve politeness ;
the utmost that they inn attain to is a
rather rough civility. Now, civility is very
well in its way, but it is not politeness, nor
anything approaching thereto.—London
Spectator.
TUE 1>;1it Alt VAT ,ATT4.01$4p 41,b0
$'11,ME' W AJ'A1) on't F11111ot18,•
rl;he. 'recent adventure of Mr,
Gladl:totlo with 8COW is still the
thrilling sensation of the day at and
round flawar..dell. The ween
.ras sent a telegram inquiring after
he preu,ier's bealph, and a pe deet
J10M1 of nloeeages front Iese dietin•
guished sources has poured in upon
the grand old n'an. Some of let-
tere of sympathy end solicitous
inquiry have also been received, A
lees pleasing fact is that many
niaaives of a scurrilous nature hove
have been received. Asir. Glad•
stone, who Coneidere his mishap as
too trifling to be noticed, is inucb
annoyed at the newepepere for giv-
ing it so much +publicity. Tom
-Wiley, the ipoal celebrity who shot
the cow, is the bero of the vicinity.
He received the head, horns and,
hodfs of the cow as the reward for
killing her. These trophies he
took to Chester to have them mount-
ed and preserved as minindeis of
the proudest moment of hie life.
he has received many local offere
for them, the highest being £10.
This he refused, but a liberal offer
might secure the articles for the
Chicago fair. A Hawarden butcher
bought the bide of the cow for £2,
and almost immediately resold it for
£5. The purchaser was a Chester
bookbinder, who intends to make
out of it a nuniber of mementos,
which will doubtless find ready
sale, inasmuch as the chips
from tiees felled by Mr. Gladstone
are always saleable. The' meat of
the celebrated cow was retailed at
Chester at double the ordinary price
of beef.
The University of Chicago.
Wise Sayings.
The way to do a great deal of wont is to
be continually doing a little.
Putting mittens on a tiger will never
make him lose his taste for hlbod.
The devil never pushes a man who iswill-
ing to stand still and do nothing.
The devil always has trouble in introduc-
ing himself to people who are busy.
If stinginess is a disease, there are too
many people in the church who are not
healthy.
The reason some men remain honest is
because they are patched too close.
Tho big head is one of the hardest things
in this world to cure men of completely.
The man who lives to help other people.
will soon have other people living to help
him.
.,gIf we had to be judged by one another
Ole gates of heaven would remain closed
forever.
The woman who marries a man to reform
him undertakes a job that will ruin her com-
plexion.
The nascent University • of Chicago very Having to hoe one row over and over
every day gives the devil a splendid chance
nearly failed to obtain the sum of $1,011(1,000 to get ou 101401iate terms with some rleople.
which was 000(10(1 to complete tlle_huilding —liana's Ilnrn. 7�
and equipment fund. On April 10, Mr.
Marshall Field, an honored and wealthy
citizen, had offered the trustees the surin of A Burglar linens a safe.
$100,000 as a contribution toward a fund of On Monday the burglar who broke into
$1,000,000, which lie stipulated should be
raised by July 10. The trustees accepted
the proposition and set to work to obtain
subscriptions for this end. When the hoard
met last Saturday 838,000 were still necbcd
to round up the sum. At a very opportune
moment, however, President Harper an.
nounced that Major Henry A. Rusk, vice-
president of the Board of Trustees, had sub.
scribed the sum of 850,000, which more than
completed the fund. The university will
now be enabled to commence its wcrk in the
most generous spirit, and there is nothing
apparently which can be a barrier to its
future usefulness. The assets amount to
, LAWYER, WIFE AND
BIJ GLAR.
At the Woodstock police court
lawyer Ball tells of his chancery
dicker with burglar Kelly and how
plucky Mrs.Ball wielded a shilalagh
to good purpose.
On the charge of attempted mur-
der Kelly entered the same plea of
not guilty. Mr. Ball continued his
testimony from the point where he
closed on the charge of housebreak-
ing. He had thou grappled with
the prisoner in the hall and related
many incidents that occurred dur-
ing the struggle which followed.
Col. Arthur Paget's home, .in Belgrave
square, a few nights ago, was charged at the
Westminster Police Court and connnittcd for
trial at at -'•n. 01(1 Bailey. It appeared in evi-
dence, C!.t. this prisoner, named Thu -gar,
alias Knot, has struck out a new line in tl;e
business of cracksman. Since August last,
when ire came out of prison, lie has rented a
safe at the Chancery Lane Safe Deposit, in
order, no doubt, to avoid any unpleasant as-
sociation with receivers of stolen goods.
When searched by the police, the safe was
found empty ; yet, no doubt, bat for the
accident Col. Paget's appearance at the
moment when 'I'hurgar was taking Mrs,
about $5,000,000, and the endowment fund Paget's jewels, it woti -jot contain plenty
is nearly $3,200,000. With such a source of articles of value. There issomething very
of wealth at -hand, and since it is so admir- amusing in the picture of the apparently re -
ably egnipped with of10078 and faculties,thespectable middle-class gentleman who rents
University of Chicago will enter the lists of a safe and is constantly depositing in it heavy
education with unrivalled opportunities.
Its hails and class -rooms will open to all
sorts and conditions of students, rich or
poor, who will be able to share npnn equal
terms the advantages of a thorough ednca.
tion in almost every line of work, and by
means of the university extension systctu
men and women in the remotest parts of the
country will be able to enjoy it.' es a7. hrnc•
fits. 'l'o ?,1r. Rn,kcf. !1:•.•, '..u•1 1.+ 1:e.'at,_,..
hearted cit ize1,1 1,1 (' Masse all, 1 ,ii e c• c.they love to work the same nor. It is so
trihnted sn We:rally of 1 h• -,r 1 . ,:u •. • \‘'•!! sociable, you know and then it reminds
be a 001(5 Muni 0o '.r. ,• of .' 1. :. 1 : •< i ' them of the words of the poet, "Two souls
tint, as '8'l1 as it 1): •, ..:. ••.. c with but a single thwart.'
their industry :led ',sc.:
...
packages, but who is in reality quoted burg-
lar. 'file writers of melo drama have never
dared to draw so impossible a picture as
this ; and yet, after all, they might with
perfect propriety have hrnnght the million-
aire and Bill Sykes together in the corridor
of the Safe Deposit.—London Spectator.
As soon as Mrs. Ball was conscious •
of her husbaud's danger she ap-
peared on the stairs with a 'evolver
and asked the witness if she would
shoot. Mr. Ball answered yes, but
the chambers of the pistol only con-
tained blank cartridges. Mrs. Bali
gg
the hammer
trigger, but
pulled the 1
�b +
fell on the blank chamber. The
prisoner then twisted his hand and
fired, the ball grazing the top of
Mr. Ball's head and lodging in the
door at the back • of the room.
Kelly then changed the revolver
from his right hand to the left and
pointing it at Mr. Bull's left breast
fired.. He thought that ball passed
through his shirt collar and the
shoulder of his coat.. He felt n
effects from that shot except Sore-
ness caused from the powder. The
revolver was a self—cocker and he
thought the ball went high. The
burglar immediately shot him
again, the ball passing through his
left arm, taring off a piece of the
shirt sleeve. A.11 the shots were
fired in rapid succession. Mr. Ball
said he then grabbed Kelly's left
arm as he was firing the fourth shot.
The ball entered the door. beyond.
Then Mr. Ball took the revolver
from the prisoner when a rough and
tumble fight ensued between him
and the witness. Kelly tried to
bite his face and frequently threat-
ened to knife him, although he had
nothing in his band. Mrs. Ball
brought him a cane and as be struck
at him Kelly broke away and at-
tempted to jump through a glass
door. Mr. Ball, however, caught
hold of Kelly again and threw him
down in the corner of tho room.
The prisoner "attempted to take the
cane from hila when he threw it
away. Another scuffle ensued„
and once when the witness was
under Kelly, the prisoner called
out : "Now I've got you, now I've
got you." He then called out to
Vera and his servant girl to get Mr.
Marehall, a neighbor. At this
time Mrs. Ball was at the telephone,
and as they regained their fent the
witness saw his wife in the hall
with a cane. While Mr. Ball held
the prisoner hie wife clubbed him
over the head with a cane until he
dropped. A mild sensation was
produced in the court room when
Mr. Ball was giving this part of his
testimony. Ever,' man within hear-
ing of his voice, sat with bated
breath as Mr. Ball related how his
wife saved hie life by this brave
act. Thorn was then a murmur and
a suppressed applause. The specta•
tors who wore being jostled about at
the door withdrew having heard
from Mr. Ball his own account of
the struggle. But the crowd stood
in small groups discussing the pro-
bable fate of Mr. Ball had his wife
not come to the rescue. The court
room was still crowded to suffoca-
tion. Thepistol was then produced.
Mr. Ball lecognizod it as ono re•
eembling the revolver used by
Kelly. It teas a 34 calibre "safety."
Wordsworthlnn.
When Harry and Lucinda go out rowing