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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Huron News-Record, 1893-06-07, Page 36030T7a0 t7 A. '+ MI;$.11'Ai Ouse A wflal or paling wopiani that there's only alto Mediclite so sure to help you 1 1 1 that it cue lee guar, Cltteed. Ire Dr. 0 1'ferCe'li ]•avarlto ,i'i'escriptlon, In buildingup (were worked, vI.eeble , delicate women, or 111 any "female ootnpllaint" or WelthneSS, if it over fulls to benefit or 1)ure, you have your money buck, It's LAA invigorating, restorative tonic, a sootltlug and strengthening nervine, and a.safe and certain remedy for''yomfeli'g t1113 Mid uilfnents. It regulates and pro• lel'(tea all the proper functions, improves dinestion enriches the blood, dispels aides and pains, brings refreshing sleep, and restores health and strength. Nothing else can be as cheap. With this, you pay only for the good you get. The Huron Nems-Recol d 1.50 a Year—$1.85 in Advance. 1Veduestilay, Juno 7th 1893. Londesboro. The Court of Revision for the Town- ship of Hallett was held at Londeshoro, May 250, pursuant to advertisement. Ms.tubsra preseut were R. Scott, A. T. Macdonald, John Lasharn,Jemea Snell, and John Brigham—all duly sworn— Mr. John Lasham Chairman. Notice was received from Canada Company to assess Adam Glouoher, tenant for canter part of Lot 21, con. 14, and Wm. Hunter, tenant No. 216, con. 4, and S. Cole, tenant for Lot 16, con. 5— the two former changes were made vs notified but the Court de3iJod that Lot 16, con. 5, remain as assessed to the Canada Company. Loxton Bill wts assessed tenant for part 31, 11, S„ Londesboro, and James Hill struck qct As no complaint was int ie agiinst a•is' assessuu'ut, and only a few eli;;ht corrections made the Roll was p tsee,d and the Court cloyed. The Council held a meeting accord- . ing to notice the sante day. A petition front William Wallace and others was read asking the Council to turnpike and gravel part of aide rued 3)x31, con. 5 and 6, as that portion of the road is not at present in a proper con dition for ;Public travel, Tho J. Llsham and J. Snell were appointed to examine the said side road aid hive the same repaired as soon as possible. Joseph I+reetnan was present and made a. claim for sheep killed by dogs, but as it appeared from ,lIr. Freeman ex amination that the sheep at the time were on the public highway, the claire was not therefore allowed The peti• tion of D. E. Munro and several others asking the Council to continuo the allowance formerly made by the Town- ship to Mrs. Stinson, a widow in poor circumstances living in D'Iinrhes'er, was laid over for the present. The Reeve and Clerk were authorized to petition the County Couunil for a per centage of cost of building and main- taining bridges in the 'township of 100 feet and over pursuant to the statute in that behalf. The complaint of Jacob Wagner was heard regarding a drain in the Maitland Block made by argu— ment two years nor and affecting his lands. The Township Engineer was asked to examine said drain and snake his report at next meeting of Council. Eighty cords of gravel will be put on S. It. 25x26, betiVeen Clinton and boundary of Ifullett and E. Wawanosh, under the direction of John Lasnam and Jas. Snell and sixty cords will be put on S. R. 5x6, under the direction of R. Scott and J. Brigham, and thirty cords on S. R. 10x11, can. 13, under the direction of John Brigham. A letter was read from Garrow & Proud - foot announcing to the Council that the decision of the Court with regard to the suit of W. W. Bowie vs. the corporation of Hallett was dismissed with costs, as the plaintiff had not the shadow ofa claim against the Town • ship. Council adjourned until Tues• day, 13th June, at 10 a. m. THE CANADIAN PACIFIC RAILWAY The annual meeting of the Canadian Prolific Railway companjr was held on May 10th in Montreal. Again, are the management enabled to show most sure prising progress and development. The report shows gross earnings for the year 1802 et $21,409,352 and the ex penses at $12,989,004 ; net earning;, $8,420,349; interest earned—deposits on loans $203,603, fixed charges, $5,102,017 surplus for the year after payment of dividends, $2,221,932; and accumulated surplus, $6,923,531; increase in profits from working, including interest earned $614,291. Land sales for the year, 39.2,• 467 acres for $1,355,618, against 97,240 acres for $414,945 last year. The net town site sales were $344,552. The directors say there is an increase in acreage ready for crop of over 30 per cent. in the Northwest, which gives promise ofa large traffic after next liar. vest. The past winter has been the most difficult within the experience of the company, and the results of working have oonsequ'ently to be compared at a disadvantage. The public congratulates the Company on such efficient management and open. ation. The genial officers from Presi- dent Van Horne, and Vice -President Shaughnessy down display the wonder, fel oharaoteristle of retaining through auecessive!years the same energy, push, anxiety to secure trade and to make their road popular,which they did at the very ;outset. Success has not caused thfim to lose their good judgment or energy. May the country long be proud of the Canadian Pacific Railway Company and its general officers. fagot leg. 01it, The telreet Linea drop at evetittde, The eweteieet tom fell irontoff thest@irr; The rarest thilt(e orb earth yen list abide, And we are banning, too, away like then;; H'e're growing old. We had our dreama, mop rosy driiatns of ,'oath; They faded, and 'twee well. ,Chieefterprhne Hach brought us fetter ho p,peat and yet, toreooth, We dreg a tear now ip title later time To thick we're old, We @mile at those poor fanclee of thepast-- A saddened sinlle, almost alibi to pain; Those high desires, those porpoies 60 vast, Ah, our poor hearts! they can not come again: We're growing old. 014? Well, the heavens are did; the earth le, too; (lid wine is beet, maturest frruit most sweet; 51,40.14 have we lost, more gabled, although 'tta true We tread life's wary with most uncertain feet, We're grinning old. we move along, and scatter as we puce Soft graces, twirler hopes on ever • hand; At last, with gray-atrcaked hair and hollow face. We step across the bosudary of the land Where none are old. --Attalla Gooetitution. AN EASTER WITH PAREPA When Parepa was over here she was everywhere the people's id"l. The great opera houpus in all our cities and towns were thronged.' There were none to criticize or carp. Her young, rich, grand voice was beyond compare. Its glorious tones are re- membered with an enthusiasm like that which greeted her when she sung. Her company played in New York dur- ing the Baster holidays, and I, as an old mead, claimed some of her leisure hours. We were friends in Italy, and this Easter day was to be spent with me. At 11 in the morning she sung at one of • the large churches ; I waited for her and at last we two were alone in my snug little room. At noon the sky was overcast and gray. Down carne the snow, whitening the streets and roots. The wind swept icy breaths from the water as it came up from the bay and rushed past the city spires and over tall buildings, whirling around us the snow and storm. We had hurried home, shut and fastened our blinds drawn close the curtains and piled coal higher on the glowing grate. Wo had taken off our wraps and now set close to the cheery fire for a whole afternoon's blessed enjoy- ment. Parepa said : "Mary, thio is perfect rust! TVe, ebull be quite alone for four hours," • "Yes, four long hours!" I replied. "No rehearsals, no engagements. Nobody knows where you are ! 1£ the whole company died they couldn't let you know !" Parepa laughed merrily at this idea. "Dinner shall be served in this room, and I won't allow even the servant to look at you!" I said. She clasped her dimpled hands together. like a child in enjoyment, and then sprang up to roll the little center -'able near the grate. "This is better than we have at home," she said. "1)e you remember the scaldino that day when I took you to our museum, and you made great fun of our 'pot of coals ?' " "Yes, and how absurd your Italian fires are ! I almost perished." Parepa leaned her head back against the chair and said in a low voice : "Mary, that was a good Sunday in Veuics, when my faithful old Luigi rowed us round to Sc. /dark's to early mass, and—" "Oh ! how lovely it was," 1 interrupted: "It seemed like a dream—how we slipped through the little canal under the Bridge of Sighs, then walked through the court- yard of the Doge's palace into the great solemn shadows of St. Mark's. I shall never forget the odor of the incense and the robed priests. and the slow intonings. Such crowds of people, all kneeling !" Parepa looked intently into my eyes and softly laughed in her queer little Italian way. "And," she vont on,"then you took me to your church where your priest read a song out of a book, and the men and wo- men were very sober looking and Bung so slow ; why I can sing that little song now. I have never forgotten it." Parepa folded her hands exactly like the Scotch Presbyterian folk of the sinal! Eng- lish church in Venice on the Grand Canal, and sang slowly one verse of our old hymn, "When all Thy Mercies, oh my God," to the old tune of "Canaan." "How everybody stared at you when you joined in and sung," I said. The snow had now turned into sleet ; a great chill fell over the whole city. We looked out of our windowa,pointingthrongh. the shutters, and pitying the people as they rushed past. A sharp rap on my door. John thrust in a note. "My Dear Friend : Can you come ? Annie has gone. She said you would be sure to come to her funeral. She spoke of you to the last. She will be buried at 4." 1 laid the poor little blotted note in Parepa'e hand. How it stormed! We looked fete each other's faces hopelessly. I said: "Dear, I must go, but you sit by the fire and rest. I'll bo at hr.mo in two hours. And poor Annie has gone!" "Tell me about it, Mary, for I am going with you," she answered. . She threw ou her heavy cloak, wound her long white woollen scarf closely around her throat, drew on her woollen gloves, and we set out together in tho wild Easter storm, Annio's mother was a dressmaker and sewed for me and my friends. She was left a widow when her one little girl was 5 years old. Her husband was drowned off the Jersey coast, and out of blinding pain and loss and anguish had grown a sort of idolatry for the delicate, beautiful child whose brown oyes looked like the young lhusbiud'a. For 15,years this mother had loved and worked for Annie, her whole being going out to bless her one child. I had grows ond of them; and in small ways, with hooks and flowers, outings and simple p.easures, I had made myself dear to thorn. The end of tho delicate gin's life had not seemed so near, though her doom had been hovering about her for years. I had thought it all over as I took the Easter lilies from my window shelf and wrapped them in thick papers and hid thein out of the storm under my cloak. 1 knew there would be no other flowers in their wretched room. HOW endless was the way to this East Side tenement house I No elevated roads, no rapid transit across the great city then as there aro now. At last we reached the place. On the street stood the canvas -covered hearse, known only to the poor. We climbed flight after flight of narrow clark stairs to the small upper rooms. In the middle of the floor stood a stained coffin, lined with stiff rattling cambrie and cheap gauze, resting on uncovered trestles of wood. We each took the mother's hand and stood a moment with her, silent. All hopo had gone out of her face. She shed no tears, but as I held her cold hand I felt a shudder go over her, but she neither spoke nor sobbed. The driving storm had made us late, and the plain, hard'workihig people sat stiffly against the walls. Sorra one gave as *hairs and we sat close to the mother. The minister came in, a blunt, hard•look• Ing man, self-sufficient and formal. A colder than stns u'ltlt his word,®., Ike rei*a a: fere 3ereesfro In, the 0.1410, ani.warned (Ithe ln0feaved mother a 4inst rebellion at the divine Ileoreee,". e prayer nl►tlale is s ..r atld, wets gone. , :te' 1, - p . 4 dreadful hush fell over the vmtall rgo(n,. I whispered to the ;MAIM idle asked Wiby did you watt eci long to send for Mo. X11 thiq would have been different. with a kind of atone, she looked at else, "I cau't remember why I didn't send," she said, her hued to lher head, and added "I seemed to die, too, awl forget, till they brought a cattle. Then I'knew it ail.," The undertaker came amt bustled about. He looked at myself and Parepa, as If to gay : •'It"e time to go." The wretched funeral service was over. Without a word Parepa rose and walked to the head of the coffin. She laid her white scarf on an empty chair, threw her cloak back from her shoulders, where it fell in long, soft, blault linos , fronther noble figure lite the drapery of mourniu g. She laid her soft, fair hand on the cold fore- head, pearled It tenderly over the wanted delicate face, looked down at the dead girl a moment, and moved my ]:actor lilies from the stained box to the thin fingers, then lifted up her head, and with illumine ed eyes sang the glorious melody "Angels, ever bright and fair, Take, oh, take her to thy care." Her magnificent voice rose and fell in all its richness and power and pity acrd beauty! She looked above the dingy ream and the tired faces of the men and women, the hard hands and the struggling hearts. She threw back her head and sang till the choirs of paradise must have paused to listen to the Easter music of that day. She passed her baud caressingly over the girl's soft dark hair, and sang on—and on— "Take-0h, take her to thy care!" The mother's face grew rapt and white. I bold her hands and watched her eyes. Suddenly she threw my hand off and knelt at Parepa's feet, Biose to the wooden treaties. She locked her fingers together, tears and sobs breaking forth. Site prayed aloud that God would bless the angel sing- ing for Annie. A patient smile settled about her lips, the light 0nate back into her poor dulled eyes, and she kissed her daughe ter's face with a lore beyond all interpreta- tion or human speech. 1 led her back to her spat as the last glorious notes of Pa- repa's voice rose triuutphent over all earthly pain and sorrow. And I thought that no queen ever went to her grave with a greater ceremony than this young daughter of poverty and toil, committed to toe cafe of the angels. That same night. thousands listened to Parepa's rnatch,ess voice. Applause rose to the skies and Parepa'e own , face was gloriously swept with emotion. I joined in the enthusiasm, hut above the glitter and shimmering of jewels and dress, and the heavy odors of Easter dowers, the sea of wailing faces and the murmur of voices, I cretin oruy behold by the diin light of a tenement window the singer's uplifted face, the wondering countenance of the poor on. lookers and the mother's wide, startled, tearful eyes; I code only hear above the sleet on the roof and on the store" outside Parepe's voice sioging up to heavoo:"Take, oh take her to thy care." Somebody in a loud whisper sale in the seat beside me: "Did you hear Parepa sing 'Lo? the herald angels,' in church this morning?" I answered to myself rather than to her "I hoard a glorious voice beside the dead." -Myra S. Delano. THE AGE OF THE EARTH. Geology Showa Its Ago Varies Froin 73,- 000,000 to 630,000,000 years- Geologists have ascertained that the rate at which erosion takes place can be ineasur- ed ; by applying their scale to the sedimen- tary rooks they have formed a hypothesis as to the time which has elapsed aline ero- sion began. The stratified rocks attain an average thickness of 100,000 feet. The material of which they consist wan all washed down from high planes, deposited and left to stratify. By the inspection of river Lanka it is found that in places the rurfaee of the land which has been carried down as sedi- ment in the rivers has been reduced at the rate of a foot in 730 years, while 'ht other places, where the land was more stubborn or less flexible, it had taken 6800 years to lower the surface one foot. The deposit must be equal to the denudation. We find that while some of the sedimen- tary reeks have grown a foot in 730 years, others have taken 6300 years to rise that height. Thus the,period of time that was required to build up 100,000 feetof sedi- mentary rock has varied according to local- ity from 73,000,000 to 680,000,000 years. It follows that the active work of creation lasted for a cycle Intermediate between these two figures. The cycle varied with endless succession of periods ot disturbances by volcanic force and glacial action, and the frequeut submersion of dry land, alternat- ing with the emerging of continents out of the seas. These may have retarded the growth of sedimentary rocks, but they can- not have accelerated it. A study of fossils teaches the steady uniformity with which the work of creation proceeded. Sirice men began to observe there has been no change in the forms of animal and vegetable life. A tow species have disappeared—not one new species has been evolved. Not' only do wo find the fauna and flora of ancient Egypt as depict- ed on monuments which are probably 8000 or 10,000 years old, identical with these which are found in that country to -day, but shells which inhabited our eons before the ice age and grew in an ocean whose bed overlay the Rocky Mountains are precisely the same species that aro found in the Bay of .Monterey and the waters of the Chesapeake. It is evident that there has been no essential change in the conditions of life since those animals and these vegetables wore first dreated, yet how vast the shortest period which we can assign to the gap that divides us from that remote epoch! Population North and South. The type resulting from the mixture of races in the Northern States will be dis- tinctly more Teutonic than in the South, where the main elemonte aro Anglo-Saxon and Celtic, except in Louisiana. It is a re- markable fact that in Canada and the South, where the extremes of climate pre- vail, the Anglo-Saxon mainly holds undis- turbed possession of the ground, while into the middle latitudes has corns a Teutonic and Slavonic invasion in comparison with which the onslaught of Hengist and Horse was insignifleant.—Rome Tribune. Threading a Bair Through a Walnut. To pass a hair through a walnut without boring a lioie seems an impossibility, but the feat has often been done. The hull of the walnut, when examined with a strong glass, is seen to have innumerable small openings, some of which lead entirely through the nut. The trick consists in us- ing a very flux hair and an infinite amount of patience. Pass the hair into one of these minute crevices and urge it gently along. Sometimes it will appear on the other side at the first trial, but if it comes, woman 'said the undertaker brought him. out at the hundred and firejl you will b , Icier than the pitiless storm osteide, yrs, i very luoky.--Glebo•femooret, 4, XISAP?1t! L-IEN.$1O41f, Lan Axton wai a silly littlo affection. sa h woman, who loved lien hupband, q,nd w ase l uiband loved her, 7,hpy were re• tenth, married, but not so recently that Tont 4xteti hatl.not Amato And ono .that his wlfn had absolutely no head at ,all for luno es, She oould not keep aocounte. They bewildered her and always ended in a hopeless muddle.. Bile was lute the wontaa who being urged to keep acme account of her expenditure, triumphantly showed her huabaud her book with -the two entries on the debtor and credit side. "Received $50," and "spent it" and who wee exceed- ingly pleased to nee that the $50 oa the one stile balanced the $50 on the other. Lilian, a , had the most vegan idea about u1iecke. It seemed to her that if a book wore.fllled with unused checks, their bank account was therefore unlimited. Now there are two things for a man to do when he finds himself in such a situation as Tom Axton found himself. One of the things is wise, and one of the things is fool- ish. If he is a toolish man he will endeavor to teach his wife how to keep accounts. 1(f he is a wise man he will simply make up his mind to earn more money and let the s000uuta go. So Tom Axton, being wise, bothered his wife very little about accounts, settled the bills when they came in as well as he was able, and bout his energies for wards the accumulating of a good and reli- able balance at the bank. And so things went on very cmnfortebly and pleasantly until winter set in. Ohne night when Tom came home, Mrs. Lilian, who wile a most transparent kind of woman, began a conversation on the subject of sealskip junkets. She said that they were mosewiconomical garments, that a wo- man with a sealskin coat was always well dressed, that the apparent costliness of the garment was a delusion, that a woman who had bestowed upon her a sealskin sacque at the beginning o: a hard winter had little else to ask for until the opting. Tom listened gravely, sari finely said : "There is nothing personal in all this talk, is there?" Lilian averred that there was mot, and in. dignantly repudiated the inainuation.that she was thinking about, herself at all. She was merely interested in the subject in a general way. And Tone said quietly: "Lilian, my dear, what is the price of the particular garment you have been look- ing at ?" At this point in the conversation she came over and sat upon his knee, and final- ly Toms received the information that a per- fectly lovely sealskin coat could be had for $300, which was worth, at the very lowest figu 'Irere, th:100.at case," said Tor, "it is rather a pity not to buy it, isu't it?" and she ad - mated with some reluctance that it was a shame; to let such a chanoe go by. Tom did sortie figuring, and found that a check for $200 wound be honored at his bask, and leave still a little credit re- maining. Hisovorcoat was on next morning, and he was. just about to depart for his 0thee, when he opened the drawer of the table in his rooms, took out his cheek book, and wrote a.check to the order of his wife for $200. Mrs.. Lilian was overjoyed, but Tom was away before she could thank him, She looked at the check with the ink still wet upon it, waved it for a moment in the air to ulry et, and then held it lightly with its face towards the open fire thatwas bier. ing on the hearth. How it happened she never knew, but the cheek gave a little curl at the corner, and burst into flame in her hand. She dropped it, tried to snatch it again, but the charred remnants escaped up the chimney. Mrs. Lilian's face became as white es the ashes on the hearth, and she sank into the arm -chair beside the fire, .owering her face with her hands. w * * * a Tom Axton was a somewhat stolid, quiet, industrious, unsuspicious Irian. He Ire. quently thought bis wife a trifle frivolous, but, on the whole, he rather liked it. Whet he camo home thatnight the door was opened to him, by the eert•ant girl in- stead of by his wife, which was unusual. There was panic in her face. "Oh, sir I" she said, "have You seen the missis ?" "The missis !" said Torn. "No. Isn't she here ?" "No, sir," said the girl,. looking as if she were ing to cry, "after you left this tnorn- ing, sir, she took on awful, and then she went away. I thought perhaps she had gone to yon, sir." Tom stood in the hallway without remov- ing his coat, thunderstruck. Through his unauspicioue mind flashed the circumstances of the case. The cheoue for $200 ; the 'retaking on," and the departure. Tom threw himself dawn with his over- coat still on, in the arrnechair by the fire, and tried to think over the situation. The absolute uselessness of starting out in the night anis trying to find her was the first thing that impressed itself upon hint. He shrank from giving notice to the police. The ticket seller at the railroad station knew his wife, and would perhaps remem- ber if she bought 'a ticket for any place. The first thing evidently to do was to find out if she had loft the suburb, and, if pos- sible. where she had gone to. Once more he called up the servant, girl. "Did—did Mrs. Axton leave the house alone!" he asked with some hesitation. "I think so, sir," said the girl, "but. 1 don't know. I heard the front door close, and a while after I found that she was gone, and when she did not come back to lunch. I did not know what to do." "Oh, it is ail right," said Tom. with a confidence he himself was far from feeling. "I think I know where she hap gone. A friend of hers is ill. She has very likely been detained. I will go and bring ler home." And so, putting on his hat, ho resolved to go down and see the "man at the railway station. ‘Vhen he closed the front door be- hind him and went down the steps towards the gate, he saw in the darkness the figure of a woman who seemed to have been loiter- ing there, and who now hurried away. As he came out in the street something of her evident desire not to be seem, convinced him that the retreating figure was that of his wife. He followed quickly, and as anon as she noticed this she broke into a run. Now Tom realized that it was a risky thing to run after and overtake a flying woman, especially if she turned out not to be the person of whom he was in search. But Tom was 'deeperato, and ho took the risk. Seeing that she could not get away, she stopped at a lamp poet, leaning against it, and as he came up to her he hoard the shuddering cry "Oh, Toin !" "Lillian," he maid hoarsely, grasping her wrist, what is the meaning of this ? Have you gone crazy?" She loaned against the lamp post and wept. - "Come," ho said briefly, and without re. etstance she accompanied him in silence lbroken only by her sobs, back to the Louse. The girl lot them in and at once cur• raised by the grief of her mistress that tho friend who was ill had tiled. • Tom, lint Ma •trifa,into tbo#'nittluSroft4 and there she semi, halo .the chalet $o.Y.P.rfns bee face with her Minds, idle ,law by Id. Altera, d. eui0tiuor that .he gttapeetelt #tett guilt, • Ile closed the door,,. sad them standing bolo .° her, said sternly; "Lilian, k want+ an explanation," oh, Tom, Tom," she said piteously.. ..D n t look at me like that, or I shat; never be Able to tell'you the troth." "you neat toll me the truth no matter' how 1 lodk." "That check, that cheek," elle moaned, "Well, what about it? What luta the chock to do with your going away?" "The check," she murmured, "ISone." "Who has it? Did you cash ite and have you lost the money?" "I have lost the money," She said, "but I did not cash the chock. It was burned," "Burned! Who burned it?" "Oh, I did by accident. I. wbe drying the ink before the fire and somehow it caught and had not preseuae of Wad enough to save it," "But what has ail that to do with your reining away." She looked up at him in snrpriee.- "It has everything to do with it," she said, ".I could not face you after lolling 6200:" "Good gracious, Lilian," hs cried+, a light breaking in upon him. "You surely don't imagine you have lost anything by the burning of the check?" "Was it not for $200 ?" she aakediia sur- paiee. Tom's overstrained feelings gave way. He sat down on ,t chair and luughedt. "Lilian," he said at last, "is that rvll1" "All!" she cried, astonished at his beha- vior. "Is it not enough, when we have so little moneyV' "My dear girl," he said, rising and' kha- lif; . her, "the check is buts niece of paper. It is not like a bank note. The burning of aheoleis nothing. It only puts mo to the trouble of writing another. Ignorance may be blies, hut it has given the a very bad half an hour." "Dear me," said the little woman,. look- ing at him with wide eyes. "What im the world did you suspect?" "Nothing," said Tom.—Luke Shorn. Cardinal Newinan's Wit. When invited by the Protestant: cors troversialiet well-known as "Tribulation, Cumming," tredispute with hitn before the public at Birmingham Cardinal Newman replied to the effect that he had small ability in controversy and could mat ven- tere to meet so redoubtable an opponent in that field, but ho added, "my friends aro kirtd•enough meal that 1 have some skill on. the violin, and if agreeable, I shall be happy to enter into a contest with you+on that instumeut." On another oenasidn, dining at a friend's house, a noble lord among the guests wishing to draw himcwt with respect to the npehot of political con-. tests. in the Roman States, said: "Things are sadly disturbed just now in Italy, Dr. Newman." Staring into space in au,ap- perently vacant manner, he replied: "Yes,. and in China." N14 one present said. a. word.more on the subject, Stub Ends of Thought. Spring is the eourtship of the year ; :sum- mer the honeymoon, and winter the settled. marred life. A man's time• ire the marker of his :eter- nity.: Virtue is a disinfectant. After ell, it is high price rathertbarrehigh, art that catches, the appreciation af' the: .world.. No•man kngwahe is honest until het has been tested. Only, hard knocks bring the beauty -out of flint. The head may:: be empty that Moth largest hat.. A sneer is the stiletto of conversation,: The- man wha philosophizes does. not weep. Getting is pleasanter than having.. Errabarraseed. She•w-as so pretty that the clerk tel. sore it would be a pleasure to wait on her, as she stepped up to the stamp -window. "1—L—" she began, tremulously,."can I get yow to lamp this stick for me?" "Excuse me!" said the clerk, growing red and• wondering what was wrong with, his ears,. "what did you want?" "L—I would like you to stamp thie.liek," she answered, the color coming into her face.. Then;realizing she had made a mis- take„ she handed on, "I, mean to stick this Iautp—to stack this limp—oh, thiee this!" and,she held. it out to him. And the clerk, pale but brave,ears oat Luis tongue till it touched his chin, and slapped the Columbian poster down, en it. Diamonds for All. "Do yogi kuow that when year shoes glieten with a polish they are really covered with diems ids!" &eked a shoe maker the other day of one of his patrons,. "Thio is true," he continued, "and I will show you why. Bone dust, which is the principal ingredient of shoe blacking, iaalmost pure carbon. The diamond, you know, is the purest form of carbon. When the Taste has been smeared over your shoes, the fric. tion of the polishing brush crystallizes the blacking and converts it into millions of in- finiteeimally small diamonds, and every man with a shine on his shoes may revel in the knowledge that he wears a cluster of diamonds on his feet." His New sister. she—No, I cannot marry you. He—But you have shown me so much re- gard. "Yes, I respect you very .much; I will be a sister to you. More 1 cannot ba" "But you will be a sister to me ?" "Yes, gladly." "Then just bring me my stick and hat and hold my overcoat for ms—you might also brush it. Do not wear that horrid lit- tle apron any more. Be a very good girl and I may take yen to the theatre some night next week. Here is a kiss for you in ' the meantime." "What do you mean, sir 1" I "I am merely taking up my part of the brother." About Jute. Jute is a native of India, but is grown in several countries. The plant is out about three months after sowing, while in the flower state the leaves are stripped, tied in bundles, steeped several days in water to loosen the bark and rot the fibro, after which they are treated very much as flax or i hemp. It is used in making coffee sacks, carpets and many other kinds of goods. Tho Lucky Man. G.—The papers ere full of social scan - date, murders, suicides and the like. H.—Yes; when we read about the misery there is in the world we must admit it is much better never to have been born. G.—No doubt, but you must recollect that such good look does not fall to the lot • of one man in a million, • THE' E gN ' IICIPA li g'.,' Anti 1iomtt Xoralf>lalttir,•.:00>tia ;7<A 117' *4 'Itlettra.Qaer... ir• _ Where will eeeentrlo 41.04g 5$4(8U? Already Ile no'1e$ger neu3atr; xG vieiatee IhuneNa engin lswP, .tad takes away eh -gripe Irina women, is Alt pleette beauty le Ioraot,. Or thong/it eineerth4' oftittention, And she who's most gcote rine reef/weltThe largest meed'of•pcb*he esegtiere Alen! where are the •gotdm days When San In sunny uplands straying Found greeet44 ti mph@ upon his wage, And set them dateantn.10 playing. And laughed to OR their *lender torts !n susiehino sweet and mellow deneing, While heiped on the slender reed pp �, I31 torol 1 , @ p me ot,teb'eAtrar OI4i;Y m, - Gone is the fair Areedtarr dose, When beauty was the fist of treasures; When it would have been held a crime To banish 1t while forting measures; The angular Parisian lick Is relished more than.good Greek posing, And e'en were Juno here to dance Twould set our audienese dozing. IPI Yes, what was good enough for gods !n that far-off harmonteue morning Of this young world, is now forgot„ And, if revived, would reap our scornitng; Wad rather see some tortured girl Her limbs twist hn tome posture slily, Than to behold a rapturous nyntpb As graceful as a bendlog lity. Wo are civilized so mach That dancing • must bescientific To win our plaudits, and we want. The most eccentric ands terrido : We want a kick to reach, the stare, A music which sets brains in motion As well as feet, and makes both dance, But of true beauty wetve no notion HOW HE SAVE1 THE BABY A TRUE STORY. "Baby is loot," said Mrs. Getlsoart, This Cathcart baby was always pronounc- ed lost ft ho happened to wander out ot the room where his mother sate yet, al- though the time consumed in, finding him seldom exceeded five minute', the cry "Baby is lost" would bring the whole of Lieutenant Catheart'e small hoursehold to the aide of the frightened mother._ Thio morning Anna,,tlie cook,. James, the Lieutenant's soldier "striker," and Mrs. Cathcart herself run will up and down the stairs in the adobe quarters which, the gov- ernment had provided Lieutenant. Cathcart at Fort Bostwick, N.31. It did not 'take long to ransack the six rooms and three closets that the biome contained. and dis: cover that baby was not there. James next hastened. to the tnt,le corral, for th.e chilli ha•as fond, of running away to look at the mules; and, the cook made the mends of the officer's -quarters to. see if he were visiting ; but both returned without news. "here is Adonieatn?" demanded the new frantic mother.. "Has anyone seen Adoniram ? Baby has probably gone with 14440," No ono had lately. seen Adonisanh. The hearer of this name W418 an immense gray eat, and he always ancompanitd. baby on his stolen eucursiona.. Indeed, Lieutenant Cathcart believed that the cat uuticed baby to these strolls. "Yes, I am sure that he has gone with Adouirant," replied Mrs. Cathcart. "And nes they are not about the galenite" they must be out ou the prairie." She caught up a aowerfel fieMsglass and ran up to the flat roof of the house. Sure enough, there was baby, fpr oat on the prairie, trudging along 111 the brown grass with Adoniram tatting proudly beside him. She called down to Jainoa, and told him to hasten after the truaut,.aud then re- turned to her field -!;lass. She saw the following drasna,euacted Baby had a ahoy.,s piece of repo in his hand, and this he - nailed through the grass while Adoniran, ga"ly played oath it, bit.. ing, rolling, dashing, otf into the grass, then shargiug back upon. the rope wan a head. long rush. It soon became: evident that the two friends were taking their weer toward a small, bare swell that ruse front the prairie. Mrs. Cathcartlee heart stool still, for in that bare swell. were the barrows of a prairie dog town;, and prairie dogs are often the unwilling hosts of diminueive owls and various hinds of :makes. And there, lying hi the sun, coiled before tlw very first prairie dog holm. was a rattlesnake. Baby and Adoniram walked, straight to- ward the snake„ and stopped: and stared at it. The momenta slipped by as they stood there. Mrs; fi'athcart loweacul her glass, faint. She saw James was only just leav- ing the house.. She called to him to burry. When sheeoould lift the glass again baby had raised hie rope above los head and was about to etrike the coiled serpent. Down came the knotted rope end,, and the snake raised its ,head, angrily. Startled, baby ran a few steps and was too far for the seek° to reach by &spring. Slowly. the snake uncoiled and started to- ward the:child. Ie was winding through the scanty grass, when there wee a streak of gray in, the air, and Adroniram alighted upon its, tail, bit and tore at it, leaped away, and then faced shout, ready for an- other frralie. The snake turned upon Its new enemy and_n3.ade . a, spring,. ...bu t. the lively eat leaped to one aide and crouched,, eagerly watclriug the baffled snake. Nom baby raised his rope again and run-, ring around behind the snake dealt it a. secoad blow. Quickly it whirled around3 and made ready for a spring—but not se quickly as Adoniram leaped upon its back,. bit and tore, and leaped away again. Audnow baby seemed to lose interest in that snake, dropped his rope and ran, calmly sitting down by the cat began to stroke it. Now both of the snake's enemies were to-. gether, and it raised its head and advanced, toward them. The child ceased stroking the cat, and looking toward the fort began to senile. Yee, he saw James approaching. One moment more and Jatnes would be there and also in that one moment the snake would strike the unheeding little creature bl. But Adoniramthefatal fe notowsmiling est James.. Crouched flat to earth, still as a stone save for his quivering tail, he watches the snake. Now he rises upon his haunches, and this forepaws flash as ho deals the hdrrid head of the snake box after box with lightning like rapidity. The snake lies still, half steamed.. Jima rashes up and stamps its life out and thea with baby on his shoulder starts homeward and Adoniram trots behind, fully resolved is his mind that he will never play with ropes and strings again when it; is so much more fen to play with snakes. The drama was ended. Mrs. Cathcart sat clown on the flat adobe roof epeeehleam and helpless, and there presently baby anti! Adoniram both were brought up to het' mailing and purring.—Wardon Allen Curtis, An VgIy corruption, The worst corruption of the Rng11sJt )anguago is that which makes "haIIlolr, synomymous with "ugly." • 1•r