, • •/; ' - . I i iililHiMTTW frH • J v-i.--'- -- Ae. 1 if ^ *» "» >• * k. *> * *- - » i4 Ail IA, *t^ .a* *. sw-srs^v..^ n'ss#5i rnmmm UlMKftYKf. lini n ftimM; IBPPFSWPiP! - v t , , * . _ • . - - » i"» »**•*• .• -•* <*V-,J..; *; ^ ^ « B ^ -__ ^ T4 MI iiiii r3 , *.»*"V" »i \' » " j" >f *'T'! " \ ~ P . - V , ' . . , . ' . m* • tTnnm mil rr a rail MI' fllnc it 'oroasde com, 8inx er Jurmngl, ho: ¥er --|fc«»t de adder S«u4 M SS shore" ^ iSiV JnuMi bo; - •1< tt» «•*•» nt«gtfshartIto«tannia-> «n*% UtoSi de alt In * reglsr whirl, < » ImuuI HA* » • _ •wStoTdafc.iartttb.c*, . Roan' on de conk , •* Pat de nubbins fade toed sank, I>oan yer hew my horn? - Walt* de Taller nigger, for he'd gwins tsr to oheaL Mnter jnraafl, ho; • lie's gotalotoboond#r, un'er his net Sing er jorahgl, bo; t We'e diggin' like a ben er sorttehin' for deling, ./ 5 Stager JmafLfco; • Tmgot* red veu, oome, dnmt d»t Jug, Singer luxattgi, bo; •w '-•»'•••• " «?m An'er4m. we's boun'beat y#. . £*;;...*•• putttpaepen. . ! " - " . Thought ooairin't me* yef--: FooJta* wid men. . Traeeief. " I LOVE AM FOOTUGHTS. , ^R OEOSOLUU RAIHMSNNIHAUAAT I >*»,» . jhVfi W&-y * ' ! > - Slowly the sun's last beams ceued to Z: p flood tlie quivering waters of the bav, j,j - leaving only the red and purple tints t ' Of the sky to reflect their mingled T: ;. ,, oolora upon the tranquil surface, The ; tinkling note of a flute or the soft ^ idence of a voice floated dreamily up om some idly-tossing pleasure boat to the ears of those who had sought - the shade of the overhanging trees of the garden. PieTre Andree and his ^ f J ;. companion had, like many others, stic- *" ouml>ed to the peaceful,, calm influence - of this summer garden. What an in- ..•-u viting place it was; so apart from the , J'- •' smoke and heated atmosphere of the ' dusty streets. Here the grass was ^ crisp and green, and the leaves of the trees seemed to shine as if bathed in an eternal dew. It was the right place for one to think and collect his scat tered ideas; as it was also a fitting spot for a seeker after the picturesque. ° But Pierre Andree and his companion were not seekers after the picturesque, neither had they any ideas in particular to collect. Pierre's broad hand was Testing idly upon the yellow morocco- cover of his note-book from which he had been reviewing to Adele his last criticism upon Mile. Lorraine, the latest star of the ballet. The danseuse par excellence, over whom men raved, and the women who looked disinterestedly upon the almost-magical weaving of her arched feet, could but admire. Pierre Andree, too, had beheld this wonderful danseuse, and his eyes had Tested indifferently upon the beauty so extolled by the press. He had been disappointed, and the criticism which had appeared regarding her first per formance was not calculated to impress those who relied in a measure upon the opinion of another. None ever questioned the truth of the criticisms as they appeared in the columns of the Independent WorlcK His reputation * was an established one, and his keen "<y: sarcasms were much dreaded by those r, I T who fell a victim to his relentness pen, |f/v and this Mile. Lorraine had not escaped. £ Her short-comings--perceived only by the quick eye of a connoisseur--had been . dissected point by point by the pen Of ,, Pierre Andree, as the lifeless body of V > some poor mortal is parted asunder by ' (.{ the keen-edged knife of th$ surgeon. , »< "What do you think of it?" he asked, dosing the book and putt ng it into bis pocket. "What--the criticism or the justice of it?" the girl asked; then, without waiting for a reply, "I have never seen Mile. Loraine dance, but I think it very cruel and just like Pierre Andree; % few more such would sap the youth And happiness irom the life of the most hardened woman on earth." The red lips formed themselves into a pout as *he finished speaking, and she looked •defiantly at the man at her side. "Why do you, think me cruel?" -Pierre asked, with A lazy indolence in 3us voice. Adele laughed. "It would take me too long to give you an analysis of your great nature," she returned, breaking a bunch of linden blossoms from one of the low-hanging branches overhead. ^This is sweet; I know there is no bit terness in its overpowering perfume as it flings it to the winds, and the old tree from which it sprung pves only protection to those who seek ita shelter. " "Really, Adele. you shame me with your eloquence. Why should you take up the wrongs of Mile. Lorraine? Such people expect to be criticized; a little more or less does not harm them. " Adele looked off over the waters of the bay. "I suppose you think because they are thrown upon the world and dance before the footlights to earn their daily bread their feelings must neces- aarially be of adamantine hardness, impervious to the cold world, who have nothing to do but pay their paltry en trance money, and sit in an upholstered *eat and watch them dance, never -dreaming that in the automatic-like frame there is such a thing as feeling, •or a heart whose every emotion is as icen as their own." "Her eyes were «j>arkling and her lips quivering. &he jjpoke rapidly, impulsively. "Spare me Adele, I beg of you, and I fffomise that the next time I visit the theater to see Mile Lorraine, the dra matic critic, metaphorically speaking. Trill have cut off both his hands, and put out both eyes, for all that the In- •dependent will have to say about her, Are you satisfied ma chere aimee." Adele laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "Pray, do not lessen the itfteres* of the Independent World on Account of my slight burst of en- thusism in behalf of Mile. Lorraine, Reside it might jeopardize your position." Pferre Andree picked up a handful •of pebbles and tossed them into the blue :A ' ^ p "• - •Aiti* X"u„ ,-ifc "Bvwy day until youi mmQm* •£• *id at IA •if P4H*' ; • itim- eter marks ninety in the shade, 1 can wear a cold cabbage leaf in my fait, but my watch I will keep; but would that •atisfjr you, Monaeur Pierre Aadree, and in what way can I b« amnred that I. wijl be remembered byyou," she questioned, looking inquiringly up into hiii face. Her pure loveliness touched him. Again he took the delicate hand, but she withdraw it qoickly. "Give ma the flower^ and I will cany it with me, and its presence will al ways be a reminder of the bright days spent here." ' Adele held the flower for a moment and inhaled its fragranoe, the* threw it upon the ground and planted her foot upon it. , When its beauty began to fade all memories would die with it," she said. •Its leaves would wither and die, then drift one by one from their resting pl^ce, and other scenes and other faces would obliterate my image from vour Blind." "Jamais, jamais!" Pierre said, im patiently. "Adele, you do me a great nijustice. You do not believe in me. What have I ever done to make you so skeptical? Why do you imagine that in two short months I oould forget the pleasantest, nay, the happiest, days of my life?" Have thev been all that?" she' asked. "Without mii would you not have found the same in the trees and flowers and the wide bay ?" ahe asked, naively. <, Pierre Andree frowned. "What a fooiish question. You know that it has b(jen your presence alone that has caused the brightness of the hour*." The girl arose suddenly. » "It is growing quite late. I can see the mist begin to rise over the water." "Will you come to-morrow at this time ?" he asked, rising too; "there are but three days left before I start, and we cannot tell what might happen be fore we meet again." Adele shook her head. "Not to-mor row," slie said. "Won't the next day do as well?" "Oh, well, the next, then," Pierre re plied, coldly, "if you ca¬ come to morrow." Adele flushed and walked hurriedly away, but a heavy hand was laid upon her shoulder. It was Pierre Andree. Yon are angry, Adele," he said. "Do not look at me so cruelly." He seized her hand. "I was mad to let you go. J&e, Adele, that when I return you will be my wife." She looked at him curiously. "Do you mean it, Pierre?" she said. "Do yon know what you are saying, aid do you remember how brief has been our acquaintance?" "I do mean it, Adele, believe me," he answered, htprriedly. The spell was upon him; at that moment he would have sacrificed his all. Adele's eyes sought the ground. "I cannot answer you now," she said; "when we meet again I will tell you. A day will give you time t» think it over." Her hand trembled in his clasp. Her pale face wore an unusual flush, and her eyes sparkled. She slipped her hand from his detaining one, and ere he could speak again she was gone. Had he been rash ? Pierre Andree asked himself as he sauntered down the street that night, on his way to the West End Theater. He was seized with an uncontrollable restlessness. How could he spend the time that was to intervene between that day and the day after to-morrow. It was "with dif ficulty that he made his way to the va cant seat that remained unoccupied until his arrival. His eyes roved over over the densely-packed house. Per haps he might see Adele somewhere among all these people, and read in her countenance bis answer. But the faces of the audienoe seemed comingled into one indistinct mass. He threw himself into his seat. He saw the curtain rise and fall upon every scene, but his thoughts were not with the fairy-like Creature who courtesied and kissed the tips of her pink fingers, then disappeared from the boards, Should he be pre sented, Pierre asked himself,as the cur tain fell upon the last scene. Should he be presented to this creature who had the power to dazzle the eyes and rivet the attention of the hundreds of people gathered there, He decided in the affirmative, and soon found himself walking nervously toward the green room; but upon his arrival there he was told that Mile. Lorraine had gone. It was the obliging little manager who volunteered the information, as he stood gazing up into the face of Pierre so far above him, his small round bald head scarcely reaching to his broad shoulder, while the gleam of his white teeth from beneath his ferocious mus- che gave him a rather startling ap pearance. Pierre left the theater and walked out into the night. He did not feel one re gret for Mile. Lorraine's departure, but he hated the little manager. The next day dawned and faded. Pierre walked through the garden with a faint hope of seeing Adele, but no trace of her greeted his eyes. The last day came, and he watched the sun as it slowly crept behind the tall lindens; again Pierre Andree visit ed the garden, but Adele was not in her accustomed place. The shadows l>e- gan to creeping over the grass of the garden, and the waters looked dark. Pierre whistled softly to himself, as the idlers one by one left the place until only he himself and an old woman, who sat with her chin resting upon her cane, crooning to herself in a low voice, were left. What did it mean? Perhaps some unforseen accident had detained her, he tried to tell himself, as he left the shadowy garden. Be felt the bitterness of regret creep over him. Her absence now, as per haps no other cause would have done, m i* that crowd, and. as he atood •and oountoi &eee whomlte knew, the » *° few*. Jan^i*' tomfe' feded frekn his mind. Ttwi people jo«tled part him, a man andiVomaiju T pfcrto grasped the back of a seat a«amstwhioh hewaa standing, and the w»rd "Ad :ie," eeeaped his tips. Their eyes met for a moment, but she parsed him unheeded. He raised hia glatM Wad watohed them as they threaded their way to a seat near the orcheMTa. Pierre, too, sought his own, but only to witch the woman who had deceived him. The massive curtain slowly rolled upward, and revealed the stage in darkness, all save the flare of the footlights, and the white, phantom like figure, thit iswayed to the time of the throbbing music, her dainty white- slippered feet scarcely seeming to touch the boards beneath her. Poising her lithe form upon the tip of her slender toe, she whirled round and round with such sWiftnees of motion that she ap peared t>ut a ball of thistle down, lost among the wooded forest of the scenery. For a moment, Pierre Andree forgot Adele, his eyes were following the swaying figure, as hundreds of other eyes were doing. The whirling ceased, and the red glare of a calcium light from the left shot suddenly upon the stage, while the dainty feet of the danseuse threaded the measure of some wondrous dance, such as had never be fore greeted the gaze of the breathless throng. Fans ceased to wave, even the heated atmosphere was unheeded; few had ever witnessed such dancing. What mortal, but one whose happiness was like eternal spring, could dance thus. Though the twinkling feet in their enigmatical motion beguiled their be holder into forgetfulness of their cares and sorrows, did one man or woman pause to think that one feeling of anguish ever stirred the heart that throbbed beneath the satin bodice. There was a flash of green light, as the red glare faded away, then a report, as of the Tnirating of a bomb, startled the ears of the packed audience. The great curtain fell with a dull thud, rais ing a cloud of dust as it reached the stage before the foot-lights. Pierre Andree remained seated in the rush that followed. In the crush of the mad crowd was injury and per haps death. He saw the little bald- headed manager step before the curtain, and heard him assure the panio- stricken people that there was no dan ger. "Only a calcium light had ex ploded," he tried to say in a calm voice. Pierre Andree's eyes sought for Adele and her companion. What magical power h%d brought her so close to him, he wondered, as he turned and per ceived her standing near him. "Adele," he said, in a scarcely-audible whisper; again for a moment their eyes met. He saw that her face was pale, and her lips quivered, but she only passed him quickly by him, and he saw her disap pear into the door leading upon the stage. Hurried footsteps were heard be hind the curtain. Surely, in all that crash and confusion, some one must have suffered. Pierre walked to the dtoor and opened it. The gas jets flared in the wind that blew in through the broken windows, and the clouds of dust had not yet disappeared. He went to the green room with a feeling of dread. There fragments of glass cracked be neath his feet, a flimsy piece of tinsel, a bit of tarlatan and a small white slip per lay in a heap upon the floor. Pierre Andree's heart seemed to cease its beating as he neared the silent grbup, gathered about ttoe sofa. What was it that caused the blood to leave his cheek, &B he bent over? It was the face of Adele, his little garden flower. Her black-fringed lashes drooped upon her colorless cheeks, and her small hands hung lifelessly at her side, while the woman whom he had watched so intently that evening, knelt with her head bowed beside the silent figure. Pierre started back, he felt like one grasping in the darkness. How alike both faces were? which was Adele? he asked himself. For a moment the dark lashes quiv ered and the closed eyes opened. P erre Andree drew back, and as he did so the little manager came hurriedly into the room, and .threw himself upon his knees beside the sofa. "Adele, Adele," he cried taking her hand, "Look at your dear Adolphus who loves you better than all the world; only speak to me one word." He bur ied his face m the green upholstry and wept loud and passionately. Pierre passed his hand across his vision which had suddenly become misty. He felt detrop. How different was this man's love for Adele expressed from his own. In his tones were the fervor of a deeply- rooted passion, and how cold his had been by comparison. He turned away. "Has Mile. Lorraine a bister," he asked of a by-stander. The man nodded: "They were twins, and no more difference between them than two peas."- As Pierre Andree turned to go his foot came in contact with the small white slipper that had encased the magical little foot. He stooped and picked it up and dropped it into his pocket, and with a sigh left the green room, and walked out into the peace- fulness of the summer night. It was only a chapter in his life's history, bnt somehow his heart never quite ceased to beat for Adele, his little garden fower.--Chicago Ledger. A LONfSVirr LIST. than lived said fk* Nsmmm -->1 tiwiiu of Have liwi lUfiBd 100 Y< "I have re«or<fe ct more 10,000 persona who have 100 years and upward," Joseph E. Perkins to a reporter ef the Syracuse Standard. "I have spent thirty years in collecting these materials, whioh I am preparing for publication. I have ransacked almost every branch of literature, magazine, newspapers, medical works, encyclo pedias, etc., and I have personally written to a large number of centenar ians to procure authentic statistics." "Who is the oldest person you have discovered?" asked the reporter. "According tb the .historian to the King of Portugal a man named Numas de Cogna died in India in 1566, aged 370 years. I have sixty-three names of people who died more than ISO years old. I might mention of those of that number who died in America a slave named Sims, who died in 1798, aged 180. In 1780 Louisa Trnxo died in South America aged 176. Of course I cannot take into account the aged people mentioned in the Old Testament, because in those days a different method of computing time was in vogue." "What country produces the greatest number of oentenarians?" "The cold countries. Perhaps Russia comes first. Switzerland, Sweden, Wales, Scotland and Ireland produce a great many. Our country is among the first, although many of our centen arians are of foreign birth. The American Indians have remarkable longevity. We do not look for extreme ly long life in the tropics, but a cele brated physician in Algiers, Africa, collected in thirteen years 162 cases of Africans more than 100 years old. I wrote to him for the names, but he had not preserved them. The Chinese are not very long lived. In 1785 the Em peror called a convocation of all the old residents of his empire, and of the number who responded only four were more than 100 years old. India has on record a large number of caqes." "Do you find that civilization has any thing to do witti longevity?" "Indirectly, perhaps. Almost all cases of extreme old age belong to the lower classes. They have more ro bust constitutions to begin'with, and they are not subjected to the wear and tear, the late hours, and the tendencies of dissipation that fall tb the lot of a cosmopolitan. Of all the European countries France has the fewest cen tenarians. In fact, they are exceeding ly rare there. Their nervbus tfepipera- ment has much to do with it. A curious fact, however, is that Frenchmen in very large numbers live to be between 60 and 80 years old, but drop off with out going beyond the latter figure." "Which sex lives the longer?" "There are more women who attain the age of 100 than men. But more men five to be exceedingly old than women." 'Are there many cases of longevity in this city?" "I have collected more than fifty cases of people who died in this county aged 100 and over. There are living here at present three persons older than l(Xi These are Mrs. Driscoll, aged 105, a colored woman named Williams in the poor-house aged 103, and a United States pensioner 102 years old, living on Water Street, named Van Vail." "When will yQogjwork be ready 'or publication ?" "Within a year or two. It will be called ' The Encyclopedia of Human Xiongevity; or, Becords of People who have lived 100 Years and Upwards.' It will contain between 200 and 300 illustrations, and, as I said before, more than 10,000 instances." waters of the bay. "Will you [ made the uncertainly grow into viction. Yen, he had reallv lost his irisit this garden often, and think of me A little when I am gone away on my j heart to this young girl, who piqued, ./vacation, he asked, turning tliw sub-' yet fascinated, him. ject and looking into her half-averted Pierre Andree reviewed the matter face. '•'What do you call often?" she re plied. without returning his gaze, but -witched the miniature bubbles upon the surface of the water. "Well, every day until I return," he «aid, taking her hand. How strange it was, he had known this woman but one ;fhort week, yet a few moments . in her •Society was more pleasant to him than hours spent among women who ranked far higher in the social world, and Whose beauty surpassed this frail young girl's twofold. Was he, Pierre Andree, losing his heart because of the sweet amile and defiant ways of this young atranger, whom he had met by chance in the pretty garden. He smiled to himself. Why could not a man spend a few idle hours in thje society of i this woodland beautv without losing liis over in his mind again and again, as he stood gazing at the sea of heads below him. It was the last night of Mile. Lorraine's engagement, and within, the great theater was packed to its utmost. The air that floated in at the open window failed to penetrate those who were seated at a distance. Fan, pro gramme, and an occasional hat kept up an incessant waving to and fro. The footlights flickered and danced, with an uncertain motion, against the ruined arches, tall pines, and the deep blue of the river, painted upon the cur tain. The music burst forth in a wild tu- jnult from the orchestra, then fell to a low, throbbing tone, as if played in the distant towers which seemed to stand so far away upon the bank of the rolling river. | 1%ere were many familiar faces to Advice to Swimmers. The following advice to swimmers and bathers is given in the report of the Boyal Humane Society of Great Britain: On the subject of bathing the committee recommend to the notice of the public a code of rules published by the society, entitled "Caution to Bath era." These have been drawn up and signed my medical officers of the Boyal Humane Society at the suggestion of lady, who has for many years studied the subject and considered its import ance.. The following are the rules' re ferred to: Avoid bathing within two hours after a meal. Avoid bathing when exhausted by fatigue or from any other cause. Avoid bathing when the body is cooling after perspiration. Avoid bathing altogether in the open air if, after hav ing been a short time in the water, it causes a sense of chilliness, with numb ness of the hands and feet. Bathe when the body is warm, provided no time is lost in getting into the water. Avoid chilling the body sitting or standing un dressed on the banks or in boats after having been in the water. Avoid re maining too long in the water--leave the water immediately there is the slightest feeling of chilliness. The vig orous and strong may bathe early in the morning on an empty stomach. The young and those had better bathe two or three hours after breakfast. Those who are subject to attacks of giddiness or faintness, and those who suffer from palpitation and other sense of discomfort at the heart, Court Etiquette and Ambassadors. The etiquette as to the precedency of Ambassadors at court was happily settlod once and for all by the Con gress of Vienna, in 1815, which decided that Ambassadors and Ministers were, to take rank by seniority according to the dates of their appointments. By courtesy, however, the representative of the Pope is always allowed to hold the first place in the diplomatic body and to act as its spokesman. Before 1815 the wrangles between envoys about precedency were incessant, and the servants of rival legations very often came to blows and blood-shedding to determine whose coafch should go first in a state pageant. In 1812 the French artist, Isabev, having been com missioned to paint a picture of the Con gress of Aix la Chapelle, was sorely ex ercised in grouping his plenipoten tiaries so as to offend none of them. He was particularly perplexed in settling who was to be the central figure of the picture. Prince Talley rand, the representative of France, in sisted on having the place of honor, and Isabey, as a Frenchman, desired to give jt to him. On the other hand, the arbiter of the Congress was the Duke of JWellington; and Isabey, being a con scientious worker, wanted liis picture to be historically as well as artistically cor rect. At last he bit upon the really-happy thought of putting Talleyrand in the center of the group, while making him and all the other plenipotentiaries face toward the door to greet the Duke of Wellington, who was walking in. Now adays, diplomatists, though no longer so touchey about the places they are to fill in banquets and pictures, still hold tightly to some privileges which are hardly in keeping with the .spirit of the age. Not only the envoys themselves, but their servants, are free from arrest in the countries where they reside, and an assault committed on an envoy's servant is regarded as an injury done to the envoy himself. It was only four teen years ago that Baron Turgot, being French Minister to Madrid, wrote in dignantly to his Government: "I have this day received a kick in the back of my servant." The servant had been molested in the riots that followed the overthrow of Isabella II., but an apology and fine were demanded pretty much as if the Minister himself had been kicked--Chamber's Joumcfc, ^ Londen's Clean Streets. ! f ^ There is one thing that impresses me about their streets--they are so clean and always kept in order. They have their stone pavements similar to ours; they have their wooden and macadam ized also. Of course it would be im possible to keep the streets dean un less they were properly paved in the first place. There they repair them promptly whenever a break occurs The tires of their wheels are more than twice the width of ours in New York, or any of our cities. For in- who are weak j stance, the hansoms that carry two people and a driver have 3-inch tires, whicji is wider than those of our omni buses, which carry twelve or fifteen persons. Take a truck there that car ries two to four tons--the tires would should not bathe without first consult- I not be less than six inches broad. So Ing their medical advise*. • Mhe wheels are made to spare the streets „ tip. ffo Com- titoa Coancil {temmon aetiOBdnis) of N«#T«)ce%/ ihonldprofit by the expe rience of those who manage the city of XrfH}don, instead o4 taking pains not to learn. "--J&ftt* Batch. The Vigilantes. ffcnr well-known oitizens organised themselves into a vigilance oommittee for the purpose of attesting some burg lars that had committed a number of depredations in the vicinity of their residences. They met together ind swore themselves oh a skull and three Bibles. They got up their pass-words, signs and grips, so that each would recognize the other in the dark under any aircumstanoes. They armed them selves with Revolvers, slug shots, bowie knives, bras» knuckles and bulls-eye lanterns. The thing worked well, as they were near neighbors, and they talked the thing over every night for a month. One dark night, one of the number heard a noise on the front wjndow. He hastily jumped into his clothing, and ran out of his rear door, jumped over the fence and rapped three times on the basement window of another member's house. Just then he heard some one say: "Sick him Tige," and fearing he had been taken for a burglar, made a break for the fence, but not any too soon, as Tige had been on the alert, and suoceed- ed in getting a mouthful of pantaloons. Over the fence went the vigilante and soon appeared at the door of an other member's house. Here he scratched softly, three times, and, hear ing the noise of a clicking revolver, again flew the vigilante, over fences, barns, etc., through alleys, until he reached his own house. With a catlike tread, he sneaked along, up the steps, and had commenced to try the windows and door to see if the burglars had been successful, when three bull dogs darted out and attacked him from all sides. Bang, bang, bang, went some pistols from neighboring windows. The thing was getting hot. The dogs chawed him all over, and soon would have finished the vigilante, but one dog got the other dog by the leg, by mistake, and they got up a fight be tween themselves, during which time the vigilante succeeded in getting into the house a badly used-up man. It afterwards transpired that, when he scratched on the back doors of the other members' houses, each thought it was burglars. They slid out the front doors, and went for the others, and when they saw the first member prowling around, examining his own windows, they let out their dogs with the above remit. The committee dis banded the next day.--Carl Pretzel'8 Weekly. Perfection in Photography Due to the "Po8iti«ni.st." "The fact that photography has almost arrived at perfection is due in great part to the skill of 'positionists,' who make a special study of posing, and who have discovered by long ex perience just how various subjects should pose to bring out their good points and cover, as much as possible, their defects. Posing has become , an art, and a difficult one to master. There probably are not half a dozen first-class 'positionists' in New York city. A 'positioniBt' must, first of all, have an exquisite taste; then, many years of experience are required tb direct the taste and give it breadth.. You would think that artists would make excellent 'positionists.' They may be skillful in posing their subjects for the canvas, but they are generally failures in the photograph gallery. Many artists have a high opinion of their abilities in this line. They some times bring a subject here and act the role of 'positionists' themselves, ex pecting to produce artistic marvels. Thte result is fearful and wonderful. A good 'positionist' can, by a dexterous manipulation of the body of the sitter, relieve the fat man of twenty-five or fifty pounds of flesh, and give it to the lean man. He can make a seven-footer look six feet high, and add a foot to the hight of the little four-footer. He can tone down a camel-back nose, straighten a crooked nose, and level a pug. He can lengthen a full-moon face, and give rotundity to a hatchety face. In his hands elephantine ears become human, and serial chins take a terrestrial direc tion, but over the mouth he has no dominion. An ugly ny>uth will assert itself in spite of all his effort."--iVeto York Sun. The Transcontinental Railways.,: The Transcontinental Bail ways, of which the third is now about completed, a fourth, with an enormous capital, is being built across British America, and two more are nearing the llocky Mountains, will not come into that de gree of active competition which is generally supposed. The through traffic which they will divide is not an important item. If they are to prove paying investments it will be by the development of local business, which will increase with wonderful rapidity as the Western country settles up and branch roads are built. The Union and Central Pacific roads derive their life from their local traffic. With this business the Southern Pacific, which is more than a thousand miles distant throughout nearly its entire length, c&ii never interfere. The route of the Northern Pacific is almost equally re mote, and the proposed Atlantic and Pacific will have a greater width of country to draw its traffic from than all five of the trunk lines leading from Cincinnati to New York. In the un settled West it is not business that makes the railways, but the railways that makes business. Each new line that is projected means that soon an other broad belt of country will be opened up and its hidden wealth rapid ly developed. American Shipbuilding. It is said that the first vessel built in the United States was the Virginia, constructed on the coast of Maine in the same year in which the State of Virginia was settled, and that she was thirty tons burthen and made regular round trips across the Atlantic. This was seven years before the Unrest, or the Bestless, was built by Adrian Block, in New York Bay. As early as 1629 the Massachusetts Bay Company picked our shipwrights, the chief of whom was Robert Moulton, and sent tbem to New England. The oldest name in American shipbuilding is Hol- lingsworth, and as early as 1635 Richard Hollingsworth built ships of as heavy tonnage as 300 tons. IT is no disgrace not to be able to do everything; but to undertake, or pre tend to do, what you are not made for, is not only shameful, but extremely troublesometand vexatious.--Plutarch. Do NOT wait for extraordinary occa sions to, do good actions; try to pa@ conunon aituati»a^,f?f The latest novelty in bali^ carriages is in the shape ot a canoe And is of close wickerwork. Raised upon double springe-above high wheel*, it is lined with tafted velvet or plash, the seat andacifcioiiis being of thgaanwgmterjffl, the lattor edged with a cord and lace and finished at tl|e corners with hand some tassels. Lamp shades are made in tinted glass, semi-opaque, and painted in floral designs in vivid colors. Yellow, pink and blue are the fashionable tints, which form admirable backgrounds for roses, lilies and violets. A fashionable quilt is made of silken patchwork in every variety of color. Pieces of embossed, shaded and gros- graia silk of every possible shape are joined together with gold silk in elab orate feather stitch and form a square, which is edged with a very deep bor dering of dark plush and lined through out with quilted crimson satin. A novelty in photograph frames is in the shape of a Gothic gateway, brick work and ornaments being alike carved in hardwood, oak, mahogany or walnut. The effect is singularly good, and they are specially adapted for large-sized portraits to stand on a shelf or mantel. Very pretty shapes in Dresden and old cninaware are now used for grow ing bulbs for table decoration, filled with mold. The surface is covered with fresh, green moss, and the effect, as the Slants put forth their shoots, is very appy. A very comfortable lounge for a morning room or boudoir is in rattan. The seat is exceptionally wide/ and the upper end rolls over and forms an ad mirable support for the head or for the reception ot cushins. Footstools too match are decorated in bright ribbons. Very effective tidies are made in strips of fisherman's twine, crocheted in open link, and joined together at regu lar intervals. They are made very ef fective by the insertion of gay satin ribbons of every color, finished off at the end with little bows. A hanging cabinet is colored with stamped terra-cotta plush, and in eight irregular shelves, each one decorated with a handsome railing in fijie open brasswork, and containing compart ments large enough to hold a moder ately-sized piece of bric-a-brac. Colored tablecloths for the dining- room are of jute plush, but are no longer plain in the center. In addition to a htfndsome-printed border in Moor ish Arabesque design, they now have an effective circular design in the cen ter. Effective hangings for small windows can be made out of fashion drapery of dark colors by placing deep stripes of lighter color in felt or cloth across the top and bottom within six inches of the edges. When the stripes are in posi tion they can be sewed on in fancy stitches in colored crewels or silks, the stitches reaching some distance over the edge of the stripe on to the body of the material, and so forming a sort of bordering, which can be made very ef fective. A very satisfactory addition to a bed room is found in the three and four fold Japanese looking-glass. Hung'in a favorable light, between two windows or opposite a large mirror, it serves the double purpose of reflecting the figure at various angles and of giving an ap pearance of size to the room.--Boston Transcript. • The BepabUe* ' • Let me entreat you then, young gen tlemen, to bear in mind that patriotism is one of man's highest duties, as well as a most universal sentiment; that though the maxim, "Our country, right or wrong," is an immoral one, yet our country, like our mother, is much less likely to be wrong than right, and that we can do more to right the wrong that exists by patriotic activity than by cen sorious indolence. This is true even of European nations, and still more in our land, where every man is a sovereign. In a democracy, as on a voyage at sea, all hands may be needed tb keep the vessel off the rocks; and the scholar must not complain that he is compelled to take his turn with the coal-heavdr. He may not enjoy the companionship he finds; but the compensation for tem porary annoyance is the general safety of the ship's company. We are all embarked on the same voyage; the question is not who phall be Captain, or who shall eat in the cabin, but how shall we come to land. But there is a nobler view to be taken of this republic. 'Tis n<jt a mere raft of safety, as Fisher Ames called it--our feet always in the water, but no danger of being scuttled or of foundering. I imagine it rather as the world's ark, like that which carried mankind through the ancient flood--laden and adorned with all that can perpetuate and adorn the restored race of man. In the storm of centuries every government of privi lege has gone to the bottom, one after another. Soepter and crown Must tumble down, 0 And In the <iunt tie equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. But the government which Christ proclaimed, which Jefferson inaug urated, which Parker and Lincoln in our day have celebrated--"a govern ment of all the people, by all the peo ple, for all the people"--is not only now alive and flourishing, but must be the government of the future--F. B. Sanborn, at Phillip# Exeter Jtequtemy Centennial Anniversary. . L' 'it % i\: English ©Iris. London Journals, while they admit that American girls are-famous for an elegant and refined type of lovliness; that French ladies are the best dressed in the world; that the German youthful frauleins have the finest heads of hair, the Spanish girls the brightest eyes to be found anywhere, and that in Venice and Florence may be seen to this day direct descendants of those Old World blonde beauties still fresh and fair on Titien's canvass, claim that young English ladies remain ampler in limb, clearer of complexion and more hearty than any others. This they attribute to plain food, sound sleep, suitable cloth ing, exercise in the open air and a plentiful application of soap and water. Electricity Applied to Ylclons Horse*. A new cure has been discovered for balking and cribbing horses by the ap plication of electricity. A gentleman of Baltimore county, Md., who has a horse subject to balking, placed au electric battery, with an induction coil, in his buggy, and ran the wires to the horse's bit and crupper, and as soon ns the horse came to a standstill, the cur rent was turned on, and after the horse was relieved of his shock he proceed*' I without any disposition whatever "> balk. The same application was s- <- cessiully made to a horse which indulged in cribbing, whereof he was soon cut -*d through the unpleasantness of the elt j- •Americ*n$ports. rup his horse. ^ » A MAN fell from the robf of a and killed himself. He was an dropper. WHEN the Ohio river took to rising fb ONE swallow may make a stunme but a swallow-tailed coat doea not essarily make a gentleman. WHAT is the simplest way to ken jelly from molding cm top f--Boarding. Mouse Keeper. Put it on the wble once in a while.--Philadelphia Neur*. WHEN a rich man dies from too nwflji bug juice, his phyioiaa $1 ̂ world that the disease was "voluntary and responsible insanity;* wheu a poor man goes under from the same cause, k is called' ohronic aleoholfain.̂ aaJP Pretzel's Weekly. , ^ PRIEST--"Pat, I understohd you a5 going to be married again." Disopn- solate widower--"Yis, your riWenoeJ* - Priest--"But your wife, Patf hat* only been dead two weeks." D. W.--"Yii, your riv'rence ; but shure ain't she as dead now as she iver will be?" CUSTOMEB (to grocer)--"How muati • are these eggs a dozen?" "Dwentrf- five cents," replied the grocef, "Why, how's that? Jones sells thett at 20 cents." "Und vy don't you py Jones, denn?" "Because he liasn^ any this morning." "Veil, I vill sell de«a for dwenty cents too; venn I don't g#; any.". "THE top of the morning to ,ye, Mis tress Jones," said Patrick. "Was that young lady I saw wid ye yisterday yer sister?" "Yes, Patrick," replied Mrs.. Jones, "that was my sister." Patrick-#a. "And was she married, I don't know?? Mrs. Jones: "She has been married, but she's a widow now." Patrick--"A. widdy is it? And is her hoosband did?" • AN old but good story of Tom Ia- goldsby (Barham) is that he once en* tered a Quakers' meeting-house, andj looking around at the grave assembly, held up a penny tart and said solemnly: "Whoever speaks first shall have thfc tart." "Go thy way," said a drab* colored gentleman, rising, * "go thy way--" "The pie's yours," said Tom, squeezing the raspberry treasjire into the hand of the pious rebuke^-qitd walking out of the assembly. NEIGHBORS. , I've several good neighbara, P , And one he has a dog; » Another has a small boy: ' * Andther keepaa bog. Another has some pigeons; r - Another owns some cats; Another scatters wildly His lutely-poiaoned fats. Another comes and borrows My paper every day; Another on the cornet Is learning how to play. , ' O Boone! heroic Daniel! V O man who got away! I well knovSwhy you ventured 'Mid savages to stray! COMMITTEE of Solicitation--"Is Bitrs. Smith at home?" Mary Ann (latel; landed)--"No, ma'am." Second of Committee--"How unfortunate! wanted to see her on business. Please tell her so when you hand her these cards." Third Lady--"Have you any idea when she will be in ?" Mary Ana (who has been drilled for formalities only)--"Yes, ma'am; she said when she ran out on the piazza as how she'd coma right in again as soon as she heard the door shut." "Now, CHILDREN," said Mrs. Shoddy, as she finished staining their lips and chins with rouge; "now, children, after you are out a little while you must ring Mrs. Envious' bell and pretend you've called to play with her little daughter; If she asks you what made the red1 stain on your face, tell her you had strawberries for dinner. There," she muttered, when the children werve out of sight. "There, I guess she'll be blind with envy when she thinks I have been able to buy strawl cents a pint." LOUISE. When 1 vex mamma, as I fear I do. though not to tease her. She vainly tries to look severe While saying "Now, Louiser!" When papa comes at nightfall he Oivea greetings such as few do And calls me. on, so tenderly. His precious, darling "Lu-ra." My brothers call me "Wexe." As' The girls hail me so easy. And grandma, sweetly beaming through Her specs, says, "little Wewy." But o»e whose name I mustn't tell, Because h ? loves me dearly. Just says, " Louise," which makes me--troll. Love him--a little merely. -H. C. Hodge. ¥ i Mrs. lately ;!L^e "Loo" Save Part for Ontof-Doon. A most conspicuous and deplorable fault in country and village homes || the custom of ornamenting the houses excessively, while the surrounding grounds, with their various accessories and adjuncts, are left in a condition wofully stale, flat and uninteresting. Undoubtedly the trouble begins with the attempt to secure too much for given expenditure, and the owner finds that every dime, of his ap propriation is absorbed by the house itself, leaving nothing either for inside or outside furnishing--if happily he es capes a worse fate. When a man, who has barely money enough to build the house he needs, wishes to make hig home a bright-looking spot on the faoe of the earth, and to feel that he is ad ding to the permanent beauty of the town or village, he should omit every attempt at decoration upon the build ing, making it merfely a protection, against the elements, and thus, if theip is no other way, reserve a small per centage to invest in his out-of-door su*»' roundings.--E. C. Gardner, in thm Continent. The Ideal Onion and the Real Onion. What a grand tiling it would be for the man with a small appetite, if he could only taste the perfume of cook* ing. Walking in the neighborhood of an oyster saloon, for instance, he scents ' afar the odor of the frying clam or oys ter. It is dainty, piquant, aromatio. He enters the saloon, and wlven he com mences to eat his ordered "fry" lie findif it is in tangibility a much different thing fhan it was when its odors were wafted with the air. Again, the man with a small appetite may be strolling past a German restaurant. He sniflp the odor of fried onions, and has an ap petite at once. Then he orders beef steak and onions. But he cannot eat them. The reality is so different front the ideal. Soyer, the great Frencti cook, used to make eatable things for the soldiers of the French army, and' amassed a fortune. The cook who will make edibles taste as they smell in • cooking has unlimited millions before him. , IT is claimed by naturalists that there is a coincidence in the Southern States between the lines of railroad and the abundance of cotton-worms, ttye latter being most abundant where there ar$ most trains running daily. THE electric incandescent pocketbook is the latest; it is always light. V ' V. • V •J