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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Huron News-Record, 1893-01-04, Page 7,dfOTH1 RS, and oepeofallY narsiag mothers, need the strltngt1 e ening support 41d help thatbmee wit Dr, Pacrers's Favorite Prescrip- tion. It lessens the pains and bur - dons of child- bearing, insures healthy, vigorous o'f fspring, acrd pltomotoi SR alitigdant'secretion of nourish - Ment •on.thepart at the mother. It is an in- Yigoratingtonic made especially for women, Qerftly harmless in any condition of tbo c systenti, as it regulates and promotes wit o natural functions and never coutlfcts Y Toscillation "builds up, strengthens res. In all the chronic weaknesses and dere, that afflict women. it is guaraeteed uegt or cure, or the money is refunded. t Avory case of Catarrhwhich they can- ure, the proprietors of Dr. Sages Ca - h. 'Iieniedy agree to pay $500 in cash. aa'ro Cured by its milli, soothing cleans - 1 44 healing properties, or you're paid. WORTH KNOWING. 'Some time ago the Outerio Govern- u%Gnt pasted a law stating that when a pere4.11 dins and ie not knownand when • the body has to be taken oharge of by .the municipality it shall, instead of beim; burled, be shipped to the Toron• •'to Hospital. A description ofd the body ie published in the parer') in the pleee where the death occurred, and if Ella body is not claimed within four - :teen days it is turnod over to the col. 1' logo for dissecting purposes. The law also state that an inspector shall be appointed in each county, whose bnsi mess it shall be to take charge of the body, ,find out all partienlars of how the deceased died, and forward both to the Toronto Hospital. The taw is re• gerded as a good QIP, as hereafter it will,not cosy municipalities anything • for their dead paupers, the hospital payjpg all expenses. Besides, it will check :ha crime of body snatching. ,r'— aR. CAUTIO E,LCIL PLUG OF THE Nav-ujTIjrtIe IS MARKED &. T.& w IN BRONZE LETTERS. NONE OTHER GENUINE. CO PP'S WALL PAPER and faint Shop IS STOCKED WITH A SELECT ASSORTMENT --CF-- , American —CF--- American and 'Canadian Wall Paper WITH BORDERS TO MATCH, from five cent rolls to the finest gilt. Having bought my Papers and Paints for Spot Cash, andmy practical cx- perfence justify mo in saving that all wanting to decorate their houses inside or paint them out- side will find it to their advantage to give me a call, tgr Shop south of Oliver Johnston's blacksmith shop, and directly opposite blr. J. Chidley'e residence JOSEPH COPP Practical Paper Hanger and Painter The McKillop Mutual Fire Insurance Company. Farm and Isolated Town Proper- ty only Insured. OFFICERS. Thos. E. Hay, President, Seaforth P. 0.; W. J. Shannon, SecyTreas., Seaforth Y, 0. ; John Hannah, Manager, Seatorth P. 0. DIRECTORS, Jas. Broadtoot, Seaforth ; Donald Roee, Clin• ton • Gabriel Elliott, Clinton ; George Watt, Warlock; Joseph Evans, Beechwood; J. Shan• non, Walton; Thos. Garbert, Clinton. AGENTS. Thos, Noilana, Harloek ; Robt. McMillan, Sea - forth ; S. Carnochan Seaforth. John O'Sullivan and Geo. Murdle, Auditors, Parties desirous to effect Insurance or trans. act other business will be promptly attend ed to on application to any of the above officers, ,dresged to their respective post offices. UNUSUALLY GOOD OFFERS. CHRISTMAS GIFTS. The great Holiday No. (enlarged to 260 s=,f that brightest of quarterly publications, "TALES FROM TOWN TOPiCS," out December first, all news and boost stands and railway trains, price 60 conte. will be sent 'lo all who send se00 for 3 fon to months' trial sub TOWI T TOPICJIS- Ttttl largest, raciest, strongest, most varied and entertaining weekly Journal In the world. 18$00140.—To all who will send 66.00, will be sent Totter Tortes and "TALK; PROM Town Torics" from date flutn, unitary 1, 1894, covering 6 Nos. of the lnhnit One quarterly (regular price $2 60) and 14 months o• the geoateat of family weeklies (regular price $4.Of por year). j ''fake one of the other offer AT ONCE and welt in postal notes, orders, or Now York y x hangs to 'TOWN TOPICS, 21 West 23rd St„ Now York. 162•b5. • PRINCE'S W1114 "Mabel, " I1abel, 11Qve you." Leaning from my saddle this words had scarcely left my lips, when the girl riding at my side gave hormount a touch with her crop and was off like a flash. At the bend off the road she turnod her head and smiled. If you kill your first deer, look for the tonight in. Prince's Well," floated back, a silvery laugh echoed through the pine trees and she was gone. I would have followed, but the sound of the distant baying of hounds caught inyt ear. It was the first hart of the season, and I knew Mabel would soon join the. hounds. I listened again. The whole pack was full in bay ; they had jumped a deer, Ind their excited yelps were grow- ing rapidly fainter. A horseman passed me and sped through the woods. 1 followed. Vire passed the negro quarters, a broad cot- ton field was left in the rear. and the great rice fields spread out from the forest to the river. Away off on the bank, so far dis- tant that I could barely hear thein, the hounds were stretched for half a mile. Ahead of them an antlered monarch skim- med along, Taking one of the narrow canal banks I spurred my horse on, but 1 was too far behiud. The (leer and the hounds disappeared behinds the trees. There was no sound to guide me, and in vain I followed in the direction I had last seen then'. Unfamiliar with the roads, I halted on the banks of the broad Santee. The yellow water flow- ed by in edging currents. Wherever I turned 1 saw but the ruin of better day's. As far as the eye could reach not a field was under . cultivation. Not a house or home arose from the monotonous level to break the dreariness of the scene, • I turned my horse toward Edgefield, determining to follow the river bank until I came within sight of my host's mansion on the other side of the river. I could easily call the ferryman and get over before the others returned from the chase. But I had miscalculated the distance I had travelled, and after several Hours of picking my way along the dilapidated bank that had once formed a wall between the river and the rice field, but which was now broken in a hundred places, I began to realize that it would be nightfall before I arrived at Edge - field. Still 1 struggled on, and it seemed to me that at every break in the bank the water in the gulch was deeper. At first it barely covered my horse's hoofs, but soon it came to his belly, and once it almost carried hie- off his feet, so swift was the current. As we mounted a high bank I realized for the first time }low swiftly the water flawed below. It seemed, too, as if the batiks were crumbling away in places. 1 rode on for a few moments. I could see that the current was constantly growing moreaid. I r p thought of the rains up the country of which Colonel Hazard had spoken, and of the freshet the planters ex- pected within a clay or two. Could it have missed their calculations and come upon them unawares? Ilanced ahead at the faraway chimneys of Hazard Hall, and then at the long stretchf narrow bank ahead, with its numerous 'breaks, through which the water now flowed in torrents. I spurred my horse toward a place ahead, where the bank spread out a hundred feet or more, and from which point I knew a narrow foot bank led to the main land. \Ve had almost reached the little hummock, with its tumble down log cabin. when I heard a rumbling murmur behind ane. , Far up the river a wave, nearly three feet in height, rose above the even surface of the river and rushed toward me, gathering on it -s crest logs and driftwood, which it, toss- ed wildly about.. The yellow foam glisten-, ed in the- sunlight, add it was some time .before I turned my fascinated, .frightened gaze from the oncoming flood. When I did it was to see that an immense breach had opened in the batik between myself and the clearing. With a sinking heart I hurried my tired horse on. I could hear the fearing nearer and nearer to me, until it was just behind. Before me, though less to be dreaded, was the broad breach. My frightened horse plunged down the steep bank just as the rush of water swept in behind ane. He struggled bravely on until, lifted from his feet, we were both born forward on the wave, A few feet to the right was the river, while on the kat was the soft mud of the rice fields, as dangerous as quicksand. We crosser' the breach. My horse felt his hoofs beneath him, and he tried to stagger to his feet, I' seized the tall canes and sheathed the bank. The horse sank back. There was a distressed whinnie, and the un- fortunate animal was swept from between my legs and out into the current. Safe among the stout canes I soon scrambled to the top of the bank. Wet, fatigued and hungry I looked around in vain for the foot bank leading across the rice field to the main land. It had worn away. A hundred feet ahead there was an- other break in the river bank. I was on an island. Unless sonic boat passed on its way down stream I mast spend what was left of the day and the night there with no other shelter than the rude log cabin that stood in the center, As I approached the open door of the hut.• a feeble voice from within called : "le dat you, Marse Steny ?" and then halting steps sounded on the rude plank floor. "Master, it you come fer ole Prince at las' 11" In the doorway stood the bent and de- crepit form of an aged negro. His hair was white as snow and his thin hands were ex- tended before him in supplication. His eyes, now dim, seemed dazzled by the light, but tear•a of joy flowed down the fur- rows of hie cheeks as lie eagerly tottered forward. ' I'se watched fer you, Marse Steny," he acid in broken accents. As he took my hand in his feeble fingers ho bent to kiss it. I gently told him that I was not his mas- ter. For a moment he seemed stunned, then raising his eyes and peering closely into mina, he dropped my hand and turn• ing away hobbled back to his hut. When I entered a few minutes later he was seated by the vacant fireplace mumbling to him- self. So this was Prince, the strange being whom the negroes feared and every one wondered at. Looking at him now, I could readily believe that he was quite a hundred years old. While Prince was muttering stupidly to himself, I glanced about the single room of the cabin. A great pile of lotus seeds, gathered from the canals where the flowers bloomed in abundance, was stacked in one corner. Ravenous with hunger I ate a few. They were siveet and pleasant to the taste, but soon caused a drowsy sensation. I sat down opposite Prince, and as night drew on and the air gtew chill, I went out and collected enough brush to start a fire. Tho river was still turbulent. Great blocks of earth had been washed from either end of our little island, Which was rapidly growing smaller. Under the eheertul rays of the fire Prince seemed to brighten up. "It's freshetin'," I heard him mutter two or three times. "Yes; it is f resheting," I said. The words eeomed to rouse Prince's dormant powers, for he half rose from his sent. "Den Marse Stou'll come," exelaimod the • Aged (lackey, es he mind hie trembling N1113 i11 prayer. "Hal ohne tiers ter 001110 ober here to watch de floods," aa'id Prinee, tucking me strait;l,t in the eyes. Every trace of'intirmity seemed to vanish. Hts mind was clear again, het it was buy with events of half a century ago. Ho was a slave once more, awaiting word from his master. - "Duz you know Marse Stony I" asked Prince. "De one wot own dis place an' all de niggers?" "No," 1 anawored, gently ; "I am a stranger." „ Amt you nebber hear tell 'bout how I is marry de young marse ter Miesie Grace, an' how de ole lnarso is nebber forgih mel But Marse Steny is promise to come buck fer me, an' he'll do it." .And Prince put out his wrinkled hands to the blaze and gazed into the fire. "Tell me about it," I asked. "Well, it was dis way," began Prince. "1 was a ole nigger wen de inure° ; dot was my recon merle is git kill in de fito wid de Mexcans. Marse Stony been a baby 'bout fibo yeah ole. Der ole missis is gib me ter him, cos he grandpa, wot is kill, alwayasay he kin truss me. Marse Steny pa is trusa me, too. An' ebryting go long hanstnn like till de votin cum 'bout Mister Lincum. Dat is bring trubble, cos Marse Elliott is jun cunt wid he fambly tram de Norf, a11' he say he goiu' ter vote for Marse Lindau. Dat is mock my Marse mad, an' he say Marse Steny mus' stop visitin' ober 'cross de rib- er at Marie Elliott's. Marse Steny been growd up man den, an' ho say he goin' ter visit who he please. Dat was 'cos Missie Grace tub him, an' he lub her. %Cell, long 'bout harves' time Marse Stent' is come to me an' say : 'Prince,' sezee, 'you is a crergyman, aiu't you ?"Yes,' seal, 'I is. \Vet kin I do for you, Marse ?' 'I want yor to marl'y me to Missie Grace,' says Marais Stony, un' data as shoals as I is sittin' yeah now. "I wanter larf at fust, but Marse Steny is look so grebe I sees he been in dead enl- ist, so I ain't say nuthen, but bows 111y head specfully, an' when Mas Steny git trou talkin' I ax him ef Miss Grace goin' ter 'low nigger to marry 'er. "Marse Steny turf, an' say Missie Grace is cum front a Ian' where it don't !neck no ditfrens weddor you is wite er black. I)en I know Marse Stony ain't jokin', an' I is made promise ter do wot he say. "'Prince,' sezeo, 'you moa hide me in yo cabin for subral .layd,' an' dat nice he cum down ter de plantashun, an' when all de niggers is gone down ter de quarters Nurse Stent' is cumin' ter my cabin un knock, 1 was sittiu' by de fire jess like dis tinkin' ob de time dat Marse Stony was a leetle boy an' ustor cum to see us niggers on de plant ashun au' eat de same vittles wat we did. ])e ribber wuz a-rizin' fns', an' I allus liked ter listen ter its roarili. "Bless my soul ef Marse Steny didn't stay • all dat nite, an' de hex' an' de hex'. a ] o.1 ,e sen' me up to de big house wid a letter to he pa. I don't know wat dat let- ter sed, bat de ole Marse was powerfu mad. He swar dat Marse Steny is a dis grase ter de fambly, an' dat no one mus eber mention he name een de fambly 'gain. I tiuk though dat Marse Steny muster sed sumpthin -about votiu' Mr. Lincum, cos de Marse ain't eben ax me war I git do letter from. "After he git tru cuasiu' he jess turn he back ter hide he tears. 'Abosel, Abosel my son Abosel,' he say. Derv's de berry words. De- he went inter de house, and 'ruin dat day on he ain't ober speak 'bout Marse Stony, an' wun day wen de wite oberseer is mensun Marse Elliott name, de ole Marse just turn wite, an' de nes' minit he cuss dat oberseer as ha never been cuss befo', Least dat's wot de plantashun nig. gers is say. "Well, wen I get back to Marse Steny an' tell 'im how he pa act ober de letter Maine Stony juas look at me hard an' clench he fists. 'Hard an' unfergivin' ter de end,' sezee, slow like. 'But I am he son an' kin be hard, too. I'll marry de girl r tub an' vote for who 1 darn please.' Dat was de fuss time 1 eber hear Marse Stony use cuss words, but slat nice he is awor' powerful bad, juss like he pa, an' hie mean it all, too. "I ain't interfere but once, an' den I is ax Marse Steny if he ain't shame heself ter disagree wid he pa so. `No I' sezee, wid de fire flashin' from he eye. 'I ain't shame, because I is rite.' An' dat settled it. I kuowed den dat dem two members of de fambly wouldn't nebber come tergeder 'gain in dis wort'. I is hide 'fm dat uight in my well whar wuz all dry, an' big 'nough ter let 'im make 'imself party conlferble on de bottom. "De nex' night Marse Steny is sen' me out wid anudder letter. Dia one was 'dress' ter Missie Grace. We is step out- side de cabin togedder. 'Prince,' sezeo, `w'en yo' git ter de Elliott manshun you'll fin' a big party goin' on, an' juss yo' go in de Bei -bents' hall an' ax for Missie Grace. An' Prince,' sezee, 'press on her dat ef she euro wid you youse kiu show her where I is, an' tell 'er dal I is got to go 'way right off.' 'Why don't you ax her ter cue- een de let- ter,' sez I. "Cos,' sezee, "Miss Grace don't know where 1 is.' "Shoal nuf, a party was goin' on at de Elliott manshun, and arter sum dew low down hired nigger—de Elliott's ain't own no niggers—is sass me, Miss Grace is curie out she self. 'Well, Prince,' sez she. 'Missie,' sez I, an' serapes, here am a letter from Marse Ste"tilnt'i' sa Grace read de letter and turn wite. 'Will I neber see him 'gain,' she say and dat reminds me, so I sez : 'Miss Grace, juss cum wid me all by yo'sef, and I kin show you w'ere '0 is in my well.' " 'Is it true ?' she say, sorter ter herself. Dell turnin' ter me she say, 'Prince, I'll go wid you.' "Missie Grace wuz berry nerbous. De ribber is a -ricin' all de time an' we has a 'nighty libely time of it a-gittin cross. Wen we is git ter de cabin an' I is clare;ile weeds 'way bout de well fer her ter git trough she is laff scared like. "Joss as she was goin' ter lean for'ard Marse Steny is step from behin' de canes. 'Grace,' sezee an' opens his arms. An' Mimic Grace juss turn an' de next minit she an' Marse Steny was clasp terged. der. "I ain't eenterup, but arter a wile I is year Marse Steny say, 'I done meck de test an' he sin' goin' to for rib, but dot, mecks no matter. We luba an' dere is a minister yere ter marry us.' "1 know by datdat Marse Stony means me, so I steps forrard, an' wid Gawtl as my judge, ef Miss Grace didn't put she ban' eon Mars° Steny's an' say, 'Yes, I will be yo' wile-ef Prinee '11 marry us forgedder.' Dat wuz de proudes' minit een my life an' it ain't teck dis nigger long fer ter marry dem two. "I ain't no mo' dan git tru'fob de soun' of dogs an' peeple is herd cumin' cross de ribber in boats. De water is a-ragin' fearful by die time. Dey is diseubber dat Missie Grace is gone an' is hunt for she. "' Jump een my boat,' sez I, pushin' Misse Grace and Marse Steny befo' me. An' dey is, an' as Marse Stony i' shub off he call ter me, ' Wait fer ua, Prince, we will be back.' "An' dey will cum. Dey is born' ter. Margo Stony neber broke he word een he life," and the aged negro arose from his seat. A new life seemed to course through his veins. 1, "Don't you heah darn cumin'," he ex. claimed, painting, his lung, thin arm to the open door. There was no sound in the darkness without but that of the rushing river, which was now boiling and surging around the little island, almost all of which hod been washed away but the little plot on which the cabin stood. As I stepped to the door a cold spray dashed into my face. It was the water of the river. A few more minutes and Prince's cabin would be borne away on the title. I turned to see if there was any means of escape. Prince was behind me pointing in the darknees up the river. "Det' is cumin fer Prince ! Seo? Dey is cumin'," he shouted. Then stretching out both arms, he stood with the water splashing about hie feet, awaiting the coming of his master. Awed by his strange demeanor I followed his glassy gaze. For a moment I forgot the flood and my danger, for there outlined in the darkness was a wnito' robed form in a light boat approaching. It carne rapidly towards us. "I have corne for you, Prince," shouted a silvery, girlish voice. "Ise ready, Mirada (:race," came in stentorian tones from the lips of the aged negro. Then straightening his bent forrn he took a step back, and as the skiff swept in the current, struck the little clod of land before the cabin door, a light figure in vvltite stepped nut. "Quick, Prince, come with ine," exclaim- ed a voice that thrilled me through. But Prince answered never a word. Stiff and stark his body lay on the cabin floor. He had already joined his master and mistress. As Mabel and I were whirled out into the stream the old log cabin toppled over and' fell. I stopped plying the paddle lonenough to say : "11'e met ut Prince's Well." It was not long before we celebrated our deliverance from the watery grave by giving an entertainment at which a clergyman presided. On my very wedding night some one told mo of how "Marse Stony" and his bride had perished in the flood on which they escaped from Prince's Island and their He e had been told of the tragedy; but had steadfastly refused to believe it. - vulgarity Among Gotham Women. If you have any yearning to see vulgarity you need only be one in a so-called fashion- able New York crush. It may be a private house or it may be at enure pidlio place, as, for instance, the late horse. show, but it will always be of intense vulgarity-, The New York crash is a pushing, driving, vul- gar, ill-bred one. The wortten of tho so- called "four hundred" put themselves on exhibition in public places, are overcon- s.:ious, and, while it must be said that they are stlis}, it est also be added that they are a littleo t o fine.L c s anda e dial o n ads were rampant at the horse show and gowns of silk and chiffon were common. In Eng- land the most elegant of women would have been satisfied to have appeared in perfectly fitting cloth g6w-ne, and, if they were need. e(1, some magnificent furs, but they would have known that tine laces and jewels do not harmonize with the smell of the stable. French ladies do not wear on the street elaborate dresses that American women select to walk in and to wear at public places ; they keep their elegant costumes for the benefit of their own family and their friends, but the New York woman rushes into' a big dressmaker's buys a frock that would he sold to Mlle. Ninette or Mlle. Blanche, but certainly not to Mme. la Duel -mese de Haut Tots, New York women are very fond of criti- cizing what they call the bad dressing of the south and west; by this, says a writer in the Buffalo News, they prove their abso- lute ignorance of the effect of surroundings. They -night as well expect an Italian peas- ant girl to wear a Regent street tailor- made gown as to think that a soutnern,girl, breathing the soft airs, having a Warm, sunshiny atmosphere, will not love pink, blues, soft frills and trifles, or that a west- ern girl, inhaling a cold, clear, crisp air, will not yearn for warn- browns, rich greens or glowing reds. New York is narrow, it is a city of one street, one restaurant, and, it thinks one set. It claims that the best of everything comes to it, and yet Phila- delphia, 13altimore, Richmond, Chicago, St. Louis and San Francisco each has more pretty women than this great city. Chnrina of Mrs. Frances Hodgson Bur- nett, Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett is a charming woman—as delightful in her con- versation as in her books. Indeed, she talks very much as she writes—straightforward, confidently, frankly, refreshingly—and she writes very much as she talks, for she puts down the first words that come to her mind, puts them down rapidly and never changes them. "1 cannot rewrite any. thing," she said recently to a New York Commercial Advertiser man. When it is done it is done. I shouldn't know what to do if I were to attempt to rewrite it." And there is very seldom an erasure or interline- ation in her manuscript. Her "den" is a pretty little back room on the main floor, away from the noise of the parlor, and a noisy parlor it generally is, for Mrs. Bur- nett always has her house full of young people, and what with their banjos and mandolins and laughter and pranks they manage to keep the atmosphere of the place in healthful circulation. Yes, and they write themselves into her books with- out knowiug how they do it, for young folks are her spacial inspiration. At 6 o'clock every morning Mrs. Burnett sets out for a brisk, long walk, returning at 8. After her breakfast she retires at once to her study and write, usually having her pen in hand before 9 o'clock. "I suppose I ought to quit at about 1 o'clock," she says, "but when I am getting on smoothly the work is so pleasant that I often stay at my desk until 6." It was this yielding to the pleasure of her work that broke her down in Washington a few ytars ago. But going back to the home of her childhood in England restored her energies, and not. withstanding the terrible afflictions she suffered there she returned to the land of her adoption in almost perfect health. Games of Primitive ]tacos, The games of primitive races are chiefly confined to children ; the business of life among uncivilized people is so hazardous and difficult that they can spare no energy for amusement. Even their boys and girls, with plenty of time on their hands, only find diversion in mimicry of adult occupa- tions. The men of Australian tribes rely upon capture to obtain their wives, and so the lads, armed with miniature boomerangs and spears, play at carrying off the lasses. Jinn as there is no more popular toy in our nurseries than a box ofp bricks, an the Esquimaux children construct little huts of snow—the recognized buildina material in that commuity. Often the. game or toy thus devised in imitation of the serious affairs of life outlives the practice in which it originated. Thus bows and arrows con- tinuo to be favorite playthings, not only with children, but with grown persons— witness the archery clubs which still flourish in same parte of England.—Black- wood's Magazine. THEIR WIVES AT IIOME. A FOREIGNER'S ENTERTAINING ViEWS OF AMERICAN WOMEN. They are Genial and Lovable—Few Things „ Fret the Pair American and She is at Ease at all Times—The Way We Hoek— Over-Heated Houses, The American woman according to a foreigner in the Horne Journal, is the most versatile of her sex. She is at once domes- ticieted and yet pleasure -seeking in her tastes, with a keen eye for the material side of life, she has a noless ready apprecia- tion ref literature and art ; while, exacting as she is toward men, there lurks in her a sentimental vein which causes her to cast a halo of romance around even the most pro- saic and dollar -grubbing of husbands. EARLY MARIRIAGES. The American woman is in nine cases out of ten also a wife, if we except New Eng- land and other of the older Eastern States, where the nulnber of unmarried' women is nearly as large as in old Epgland. But in the Middle and Western States' early mar- riage fa the rule, although the ge is rising, and a girl who 20 year') ago would have 1 been married at 16 now dela s until from 20 to 24. YOUNG MARRIED COUPLES, Young wives, as a rule, have no home of their own. The girl, nut infrequently, brings her young husband to live in the house of her parents, for the mother-in-law is no such femme terrible as she is suppos- ed to bo with us. The young people have a suite of rooms set apart fol- them where they spend their cosy evenings alone, while they join the family circle for meals, or in turn entertain their relations and friends in their own lit- tle household. The young wife is thus spared the worry of housekeeping for the first few years, while the young husband, who would pro- bably have remained a bachelor 10 years longer, is encouraged to take the plunge long before he is 'ready to keep up an ex- pensive separate home. Other young couples take refuge in the ubiquitious boarding-house, where an indif- ferent table and still more indifferent fel- low -boarders soon lead to promptings of the spirit to find a home at all hazards for themselves. 1105E•11AK1 Ntl. Probably both husband and wife are pos. sessed of "real estate" in the form of "town lots," which they invested in while still in their teens, and presently they [rut up a "frame" house, possibly of considerable architectural beauty, in which they settle down, proudly complacent that they, tun have at length a "beautiful" home. ' 11E1t CHIEF bE1.tnnT. If the chief satisfaction of the American roan is pointing out the "millionaire" to the traveller, the still greater delight of the woman is to drive her visitors ,sound the "city" to see the "beautiful homes" which industry and energy have reared. And hore the- American woman has n far more arduous part to play in home -making than has an English sister. Outside the narrow pale of the gilded "400" of New York and Chicago, where servants in stately routine may be found to the number of 10 or 15 in a household, the average American woman has a daily and hourly struggle with domestic help. • SHE DOESN'T FRET. Further Weet housekeeping is more dif- ficult still, and I have seen the wife of a Cabinet Minister, accustomed to all the - stateliness of foreign courts, and with abun. dant wealth at command, at 10 o'clock in the rnorning,dressed in a loose wrapper, go- ing the rounds of her mansion as general housekeeper. But all this does not fret the American woman. She may look worrid up till noon, but she will then dress in a well -made gown, which.she will don with the grace of a French woman, and will drive in her pretty phaeton to a ladies' lunch party. where she will be all vivacity and good humor. GENIALITY h811, CHARACTERISTIC. The American woman is essentially genial. She is not so terribly anxious to know the pedigree and occupation of every stranger who may happen to build a house next to hers, or take the next pew to hers at church. She will welcome the new comer, whether her husband happens to deal in land or law, stocks or sugar, medicineor morals. It is all "business" in her eyes, and she cannot understand the delicate lines drawn between standing behind the counter of a bank or of a grocer's store. THOSE ROCKING CHAIRS. After luncheon she will either recline in a rocking chair or sit down at a table to play whist or progressive euchre. Every house furnishes at least a score of rocking chairs, and one's first introduction to a ladies' social circle is decidedly a bewilder- ing one, for each individual chair rocks its own time, and the effect upon the brain is analogous to that which would be pro- duced upon the ear were each individual instrument in an orchestra to keep its own time. Those who do not play cards will form themselves into a circle to discuss some book or play or picture. There will be little or no personal scandal discussed. The tone of American conversation is proverbially high, and the questions dis- cussed in London drawing -rooms, often in the presence of men and young girls, are entirely avoided in America, except by that foolish and limited set who live to eat, dress and imitate nothing but the follies of the English. GROWS OLD TOO 800N, The American woman is hospitable, gen- erous, intelligent, vivacious and brave, but the lines which appear under the eyes and round the mouth ere she reaches 30 tell their own sad tale. What she needs to perfect and maintain her charms is the cold morning tub, less violet powder, more fresh air and out-of- door exercise, and the utter extermination of the horrid fnrnace which, placed in every cellar, sends forth sirocco -like blasts of air into every chamber in the house, and so converts the modern American • home, in point of temperature, into a conservatory for forcing planta. Romance of Emin Pasha. A pretty little romance is told of Emin Pasha, the,African explorer, who was cause of Henry M. Sta aey'a exp©d1 ion. In early life, before leaving Hungary, he fell in love with a charming little playmate, still in short dresses. Although he did not tell his love, it was so deep that no other woman has ever shared it. Pre retired from society, became a misanthrope and did not marry. Long years after, while attending the wife of Ismail Pasha in his professional capacity, he found in her his former love. The result was the old story. Ismail, after many hardships in war and prison life, died to make way for Emin, who declared his love and won the widow. • s: HOW TO PREPARE A TABLE, A Bettina Housewife Can no T)tls With Little Expense. If our "good plain cooks" could only be induced to garnish their dishes and serve them up daintily they would he far more appetizing. Phis involves little labor after all, and is within the roach of every hoose• keeper. Parsley, a pecially, gives an edible look to even a dish of cold meat, and a box of it will grow easily in a sunny window all winter and require little or no care. A few wigs around a dish, a little chopped up and sprinkled over fried potatoes or a beef- steak, makes all the difference in the world in their appearance. Take up sorne nastur- tium roots iu theautmmn,cut book the ends and the buds, and in a few weeks they will begin to bloom again, giving ytiu the pretti- est decoration possible for youe salads. In fact you might have a regular little kitchen garden in pots and boxes with very little trouble, and it will be almost sure to interest and delight your cook. There are no end'of things that make pretty garnishes for a dish. A few fried onions help out a beefsteak immensely ; French chops look particularly nice if laid in ordinary fashion around a neat hillock of mashed. potatoes ; a handful of watercress greatly helps the look of a roast of beef; croquettes served in a napkin look twice as well as if laid in a dish. A fragrant geranium leaf floating in the water of a finger bowl looks fresh and dainty. In fact, a clever woman can think of any cumber of little accessories that will help the appearance and attractions of her table, without adding in any way to the ex- pense of her housekeeping; and her cook and waitress will be quick to learn a neat and tasteful habit of serving.—Chicago Journal. HOW TO MAKE MACARONI. Interestlag Process for Producing Italy's Choicest Hit. The flour and water is first put into what is called a dough making machine. It is cylindrical in form, and within it are knives or plates, which are worked by steam power. The dough is kept in this machine until it is thoroughly mixed. Then it is thrown into a circular trough about six feet in diameter: Through this trough rolls a large stone weighing 3,300 pounds. Over and over the dough this heavy weight passes, rolling it out fiat. This process is kept up for half an hour. The next step is the placing of this well - rolled material in a powerful circular press work by steam. The bottom of this ma- chine is a copper plate or mold. It is about an inch thick and perforated with holes; in the center of which is a pin. The dough is forced tlu'otigh these boles, the little pin in the center of oae.h making the hollow center in the !ata i It comes out n roc in long strips, soft and so pliable that it could d be tied in a knot. It is then taken upstairs, where a man lays it out in straight lengths on wire trays covered with paper. The whole is covered with heavy paper, and the trays are put ha racks to drv. It lies in this position for eight days betore it hardens and dries cones pletely.—Philadelphia Times. The English Like Our Luncheons. An English paper says : "The Americans are without doubt the people for pretty luncheon parties. 'Daisy' ' and 'violet' lunches are very popular across the `Retia., ring pond,' and at one of the former the centerpiece was composed entirely of mar- guerites end maidenhair fern, the square or cloth underneath it being bordered by s, single row of artificial daisies, and the can- dle shades cousisted of the same dainty flowers. All the favors, colors, etc., were pure white, only relieved with a suspicion of yellow green. 'Shakespeare' luncheons, have been the latest novelty, and on they occasions the menu was written in Shake- spearean language, terrapin being described as 'fillet of a funny snake ;' the ice cream, 'Thou art all ice, thy kindness freezes,' etc.. while an appropriate quotation was placed before each guest. Sometimes poems are found on the back of the name card, com- plimentary descriptions of the owner, and which are read aloud by one's next door neighbor—to spare one's blushes ! Gener- ally speaking, luncheon parties in England are rather dreary forms of entertainment and as we borrow our American cousins= mode of speech, why do we not also take a few hints from their talents for entertain. ing and inventing something new?" When Shall We Fly ? Hiram S. Maxim reports on onr progress in aerial navigation. He describes what has been done, explains that his experi- ments have been much delayed by his long absence front England, but says that he has now got a grip on the air many times great- er than has ever been obtained before. If his large aeroplanes can be made to lift one- half aa•much in proportion to, the power consumed as the small ones did in previous experiments, he says he will have sufficient power not only to make the machine rise in the air, but to• carry a considerable load be- sides. He thinks' he has now proved that itis possible to produce a really powerful and reliable motor well within the limits of weight, and that if he does not succeedsome one else will, and that at no distant date. He is inclined to believe that naphtha is the motor that is destined to carry us through the clouds. nor does this seem a vain hope if it be true, as he says, that a naphtha motor could be constructed which would develope 100 horsepower and not weight more than 500 pounds. Mr. Maxim mentions that he has been told by a Rus- sian that the Czar .has spent £100,000 out of his private purse on the aeroplane sys- tem, but without any success as yet. A Gruesome Relic, The scaffold upon which John Brown was hanged in Harper's Ferry has arrived at Washington for shipment to the World's Fair. The timbers are in a .good state of preservation, though they have served the purposes of a porch to the residence of a son of the man who built the scaffold. The gallows itself is a plain, substantial affair, which would attract little attention apart from its history. Tho timbers are evident- ly pine, although they have been painted over at some later period to preserve them. The two uprights are big beams six inches square, and the crossbar is in proportion. Even the screws with which it was put to- gether have been preserved. John Brown was hanged on December 2, 1859.—Boston Journal. The River Nile The river Nile has a fall of six inches to the thousand miles. The overflow com- mences in June every year and continues until August, attaining an elevation of from 23 to 26 feet above low water mark, and flowing throngh the "Valley of Egypt," in a turbulent body 12 miles wide. During the last thousand years there has been but one sudden rise of the Nile, that of 1820, when 30,000 people were drowned. After the waters recede each year the exhalations from the mad. are simply intolerable to all except natives. This mud deposit adds about eight inches to the soil every century, and throws a muddy embankment from 12 to 16 feet into the sea every year.