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wmmom mi iff *« poeee, (•fl^eedinr - .if • I.** mUilww^ Jly c unfits iwn: • ' 0*«r ten thoi»««n'l m )o« of «letuahiff yw.es h .8 sceptre p^a. ;tfe>. 1K«4ttttB«n<lr« of the coal minesf ; *W» toil thp minors *rim. ^ AwltiMgold of the waving oonltWO Pay trtbutr unto him. But Mie anil worn is tho monarch; ,M WW'flttting and whirling: by. »- t •& t he sees tint doe= not notice 19 farm* r rein old Gray At|becrossing-, to let ;liospecial .ajliillrapon iu way. t Stalwart ami etronjr is Farmer John. < • I Aud bronzed with sun and weather, i ,... •Ma, wife," ho laiiRhs. -you'd never thin* * • vz ' *e and I were boys together 1 **He, that shadow, silent and sly,. No bfjrfrer than my arm. Ju' Ba owns a hundred millions, and*; Havc only you and the farm 1 • *- j « "But, Lord, who ev. r would change with him? Poor follow, he never sees Our upland in widow of clover red. jur upland raesflo* oi ciover i Our blossoming apple trees. "Be only hears the clanging whwto,' And the engine's whistle shrill; « , Oars are theTmmminjr of the bee* **'- And «he wild bird's Summer tntt. , •'And while in the dusty town hc{*|ls At a toil that ne'er is done, I awing my scythe to a merry song; ; j In the cherry wind and sun. "And we shall be jojrcingr behind old Gray When in earth his bones shall He. r long do these meadows keep the sound 'his swift tra n roaring by*" ' $ T hilude-lphin Jlecord. •? MY FIRST EDITOR. "It's the natura' result of a serei'e coarse of Swinburne!" I snatched up my manuscript and was leaving the room flushed with shame, trembling with rage and indig­ nation, when the editor's voice arrested my attention. I turned round and looked at him scornfully, for I felt I could have withered him with a glance, bat he did not seem to feel it much. "You're a most impetuous young lady," he said in a slow, low, musical voice. "I have not half finished my criticism of this very remarkable pro­ duction," and he took the manuscricpt quietly but resolutely from my trem­ bling fingers. "No, Miss--" "Jones," I said, shortly. , "No, not Jones; but the name will aerve;" and I felt his keen gray eyes (Mi my face and observed an amused smile hovering round the corners of his mouth, which was half hidden by a long, fair, drooping mustache. "Now, Hiss Jones, pray sit down"--he indi­ cated a high leather-covered chair just opposite to him--"and let us talk this matter over. If you had been content, like other aspiring young authors, to send your contribution in the ordinary way; tli r on ah the medium of the post- nan and a newspaper wrapper, it aould have been declined, doubtless, and re­ turned with or without the customary, though not very consoling, thanks; but, Bincc you have bearded the lion in his den, you must listen to me for a few minutes." I bowed and sat down. He had got out his scalpel and was going to scanty me mercilessly, but as I had brought it on myself I felt I must heroically epdure it, though I glanced surrepti­ tiously round the "den" in search of apme means of escape., He "fixed me With his glittering eye,"., and I waited, wondering why I had been so mad and misguided as to enter aneditorial office at all. Slowly, doliberately, with a sort of fiendish satisfaction, he smoothed out the crumpled manuscript, glancing at me with amused interest. "Why do you write poetry, Mi»« Jones?" "I don't know; because I like to, I etypose." - ; # "A woman'b reason--therefore valid. But do you honestly and really think it necessary for people, even in poetry, and supposing they are very much in love with each other--which no one is • nowadays--it is necessary for them to be 'bitten' and 'smitten.' and that sort of thing ? Is it really desirable m the interest of common humanity for hearts to be 'melted* and 'smelted ?' " and he placed his finger under a certain stanza. "This sentiment, for instance, is simply ferooioos.* "Don't!" I cried, angrily. "It's very cruel and unkind of you! If you don't want my poetry you can say so, and hanre done with it!" ¥ 'My passion flowed forth aa a tor­ rent,' which, of course, rhymes with 'abhorrent,'" "Stop, please, and I thrust my fing­ ers into nay ears in the most undigni­ fied misery, but I could not shut out the sound of the clear, quiet, mocking Yaice. I shut- my eyes, but still there was the horrid, gloating, good-looking editor watching me Bteadily, his hand resting on my beautifully-written poem; I thought then, and think to this day, that it was and is beautif uL When I looked at him again he was laughing at lay distress, smiling to himself like a ghoul, or a harpy, or something equally horrid, but that he was exasperatingly good looking. ;"Now, Miss Jones, what else have JP written besides this very remarka- ©te production?" with another sup- jwessed smile. t - *^8ome blank verie and blanker prose f- And more of both than anybody knoqp/' I reply, a little bitterly. "Will you please give me my manuscript? I'm Very sorry to have troubled you; I ti&all never do «o again.* "Oh, yes, you will, and I shall be very glad to consider some of the blank prose you speak so despairingly of! If you will let me eee a nice, matter-of fact, commonplace little story, or a short article on some useful domestic subject, such as *The Average Servant,1 or Occupation for Girls'--anything of that sort--can you suggest anything ~and he looked at me gravely and ^jttestioningly--"something novel and attractive, that might be treated briefly Mild brightly, made a feature of, in ehort, I shall be very pleased to con- eider anything o< that sort you may fa­ ctor me with. Miss Jones." , always paused most provokingly after the Miss," and I hardly knew Whether to get angry or to laugh out tight as I stammered a feeble "Thank you." "And you really should cut Swin ; fmrne," he added, with a glance at the manuscript. i "I don't know Mr. Swinburne, that v Jl I met him only once.and then he said •omething to me in Greek," I replied. "He (Bight have said something much worse. But I mean voU**houldn't de- ao men. of jour time to his poetry, he touched my manuscript. "This betrays a se­ vere cotorse. You mipeft liter your style, Mas Jones. Tfatte enoogto for you to come to the cynical-metaphys- lcal-mcomprehensiblein ten years, say. You'll be Mtaeafed np to the point of not believing a word of it by that time. Kindly leave me your addreei and the manuscript shall be returned in the usual way.* ' "No. 17 Thrown street, B!oomsburv,W. C.," I replied, my face crimso6,"care of Mrs. Kent." He wrote it down, and then stood np to indicate that the interview was over, bowed formally, and then touched a bell. Suddenly a small boy appeared, who conducted me down dark, break­ neck stairs, through several mouldy, dusty, labyrinthine passages and out through a bookseller's shop. I felt more thoroughly small, mean, miser­ able and disgusted that I had ever felt in my whole life, as I emerged from the shady by-street containing the office into the light and bustle of Piccadilly, and, as I got into a 'bus I Towed never again to come to a personal encounter with an editor. Hitherto I had been content to drop my little contribution modestly into the letter-boxes of cer­ tain weekly publications that delight in small stories, or I would send them by post and await the result with what patience I could. Some tines my sto­ ries and verses were accepted, some­ times not. and I fancied that if an edi­ tor only knew how exceedingly indus­ trious I was, how devotedly attached to my calling, for I had married the muse of literature for better, for worse-- there was no choice between doing that and being a governess--he would have a far better opinion of me and give me an important permanent position on his paper immediately. Then I bad heard so much about the editor of the Ar­ lington ; the girls at the reading-room of the British Museum were continu­ ally talking of him; and in an evil hour, armed with my most elaborate poetical production, I made mv way to the office and requested, and, strange to say, was granted (for London editors are difficult of access,) an interview. The result was pain, shame, confusion, discomfiture, and, worst of all, failure. Hoaven and earth! how I hated that man as I sat in the most remote oorner of the 'bus on my homeward journey; how I vowed to be revenged and let him know some day whom he had sneered and jeered at! I would put him in a novel, in a comedy, in a bur­ lesque. I would carricature him with pen and pencil. 1 would become fa­ mous merely to spite him, and refuse-- oh, the joy of that thought!--I would refuse to write a serial for his hateful magazine. I believe I became almost eloquent in my internal denunciations of him; and, as an immediate practical, disdainful defiance of him, I got out at Oxford street and went into Mudie's for another volume of Swinburne. In one way or another the editor of the Arlington was a good deal in my thoughts during the next week, and the more I considered his conduct the more I detested him; my cheeks burned and tingled as I recalled his low, mocking tones and quiet, annihilating glances. As for submitting story, essay, or arti­ cles to his tender mercies--never! A fortnight passed and my manu­ script did not come back. My name was not Jones, but I really did live with Mrs. Kent in Brown street, and I told her all about it; so I should have re­ ceived it had it been sent. Of course he had tossed it in a capacious waste- paper basket that I had noticed under his table, and that was the Qtxd ef it. One day, quite-a month after my en­ counter with the autocrat of the Ar­ lington, Mra Kent announced a visitor, a gentleman, to fee me; and in a mo­ ment there entered the editor, more cool, calm, self-possessed and smiling than ever. "The verses have not come back in quite the usual way," he said, sinking unasked into the only easy-chair--I was at my writing table, and meant to stay there. "However, here they are, all safe, with a few marginal notes. ' You do really leave beautifully broad, clean margins--they're quite tempting! By the way, wliy haven't you sent me that story?" I havent written it yet," I replied --I longed to add "and never mean to," but somehow I could not. Well, you must; prose pays best. What other editors have yon been in­ terviewing lately?" "None! I never want to see another in all my life!" He leaned back in his chair laughed heartily, then, with mock gravity-- "I'm glad to hear that, for you're really quite--dangerous. By the way, why did you say your name was Jones ? You might have known I should find you out. Editors do find out every­ thing in time. You are Miss Madeline Meredith of Garth, and your brother Jeff and I were chums at Eton and Oxford." "Oh!" I said, somewhat surprised, I didn't know!" "Of course not. How could you ?" "And I'm not Miss Meredith of Garth any longer," I said, with an effort of proud composure. "Papa lost all his money, and our house was sold; then papa died and Jeff is with his ship at the Cape, and Aunt Adelaide didn't want me any longer; so I came to Lon­ don to Mrs. Kent--she's my old nurse --* and I earn my bread by my pen." I could not help telling him all that --he seemed to make me, in spite of myself; but I uttered the last words proudly, and he did not smile at all, but looked very grave. "I wonder, Miss Meredith, if you ever heard Jeff speak of Harold Cashel- ton?" Oh, yes, often!" and then I paused in some confusion. Mr. Harold Cashel- ton had been my brother's "guide, phil­ osopher, and friend." and in one way and another I had heard more than enough of him all my life, though, through my having no mother, I had never been at Garth when Jeff's friends visited him. In fact I had worshipped him secretly and afar off--from Jeff's descriptions--and made him the Hero of more than one romance; and now there he was sitting in my easy-chair and chatting to me as if he had known me all his life--as, indeed, I suppose he had in a way. Jor Jeff surely must have mentioned me to him. After asking all sorts of questions about my brother, he stood up to go, and desired me not to forget the story; but then more than ever I resolved not to write, as no doubt he would accept it from mere pity. Three months passed away, and I was on terms of almost civility with my hated editor; but I had written noth­ ing for the Arlington--on that point I was obstinate--nor had I told Mr. Caahelton very much about myself or my own affairs beyond the first sudden about Jefi I would talk for hours, and M did not aftem to weary of the subject. **Sometimes I eeconMnied him to an afternoon concert at Btu fames' Halt or a matinee aft the lij&etfto, and he was always very kind and attentive; bat I never *onld get over the faot that he had laughed at ny poetry. Had he laughed < nlv at tnv^lf T feavo forgiwn nnd forgotten it. One evening uttli^d after having abeented himself for. a fortnight, and I waa wondering, in spite of myself, what could h ive happened to him. I waa about to call Mrs. Kent to light the gas, though it was really quite bright, when he stopped me. "Dont ring fcr lights," he said, in his lazy way; I want to talk to you. I have something very particular to say, Madeline, and I want to say it to you alone, Madeline"--and somehow he got possession of both my hands--"I love you; I want you for my wife; I want to take care of you, dear,' if you will let me." "I cant help ft," I returned, feebly and vaguely. • "No, of course not, I don't want you to. Darling, you must have seen that I love you. and you must, you surely must care for me a little in return!" "I don't know," I said, more feebly still; and the golden opportunity for revenge and retaliation was gone forev­ er. I might have been cold and proud, haughty and defiant, laughed in his faco and told him I scorned his love as he had Bcorned my poetry; instead of which I stood trembling and blushing in his arms, while he kissed my face and called me all sorts of pretty names; and, in spite of myself, I confess I liked it. It is humiliating, it is horrid, but it is true--I did love the handsome, hateful editor. "Darling," he cried, holding me from him at arm's length, "you're a vixen-- you're too fond of that vagrant poet-- J'ou detest me cordially; still, Made-ine, I love you, and I believe I have loved you from that day when your presence made a spot of sunshine in my very shady editorial den. Some day perhaps you will learn to care a little about me." , A • • • * * * - * ' _ Six months afterwards we were mar­ ried at St. George's, Bloomsbury; and when Jeff came home and heard all about it, I thought he would have gone out of his mind with joy. Now I write what I please for the Arlington; and though the editor goes over it, he does not dare alter a syllable, so that in that respect I have gained my poDife I have conquered my first editor.' New Orleans Homes. New Orleans, unlike most cities, im­ proves vastly on acquaintance. Good manners illuminate a place. It is like turning on the gas in a gloomy house. The outside of a London house is as cold as the inside of it is warm and welcome. But tho problem for the Btranger is how to get on the inside of an English gentleman's home. Here in New Orleans the doors are not shut tightly; I mean this figuratively, as Avell as in fact. For you can pass along the street and fre­ quently see straight into and through a' New Orleans home. Nothing is closed up, nothing concealed. It is a bit like the suburbs of Naples or Venice, where the side of the house next to the sun is alwayB wide open. The door-bell down here is on the gate. The old brass En­ glish knocker is a feature of the doors, as distinguished ' from houses of the north. There is more heart here to the square milq than in any one spot in America. And it is real heart. Not show or sham heart, as in Paris. Tho perfect good manners and ever-prevail- ing politeness here," it seems to me, is real, neither selfish nor superficial, as in the metropolitan cities of France. When a woman enters a street car here, let her condition be ever so humblo, and though the car be filled with tired laborers returning from their day's work, each man there seems proud to make it his special duty to see to pass­ ing her fare, procuring her a seat, and so on. And this is away down at the bottom of the city's social make-up. Of course, as you ascend upward this is not only preserved but improved ppon.. --Joaquin Miller's Letter. -5 •» i ' V.; :* South American Antiquities, The. ethnological museum at Berlin has been lately enriched by a fine col­ lection of South American antiquities, which had been gathered during many years by Herr Mehring, a German res­ ident of Brazil. The colllection is almost wholly composed of objects which have been disintered from burial mounds and similar places, and in­ cludes axes, arrow-heads, lance-heads, all of stone, and generally of moBt per­ fect workmanship: monumntal stones, earthenware utensils, and some painted pottery. There are two pipes, evident­ ly used for smoking, made of baked clay, the bowls representing caricature faces. Besides these ancient objects, Herr Mehring has also presented to the museum a very numerous collection of modern utensils, weapons, and orna­ ments obtained from South American Indians.--London Times. Couldn't Face His Amanuensis. A gentleman for whom I wrote a book on a theological subject, could not collect his thoughts while I was pres­ ent, without lying prostrate on the bed in the study and partially covering his face with the pillow, and that position he always maintained during the two hour\ of the dictation. He said he could face an audience and had preached many times to large congre­ gations, but he painfully missed the in­ spiration to be gained from numbers and could not face one man alone. He would not allow me to look at him dur­ ing the entire interview. I remember well, though, that he dictated nicely, and the transcripts went to the printer almost without correction as they left my hands, for he was careful to note paragraphs, and they were punctuated when they were prepared.--Brown's Phonographic Monthly. Trials of Ueaius, ! When a patent medicine artist throws much soul and perspective and tone and things in an advertisement on a board fence--that is, when he paints a legend reading. "Use Bolus' Liver Sefcrcher"--it makes him feel like a foiled pirate to come along that way a week later and find that a board has been knocked off and replaced upside down, making his work of art appear in this shape! „flse qiAea --Drttktfg traveler's MclgaeMe. Ay Englishman who would not for anything say "My God," will make no scruples about "Mon Dieu," or "Mein Gott." as though .God only understood English. 9MS of th« Caitlito Hanwyl; St. Bernard dog *s an some#et derogatory to **ek « kBoble ether' desa, they feeve exceptional ofeflms upon the regard of kttfean !>•£&£»-<<-« superiority which only the Newfoundland end the true Shepherd deg can in any way b > aaid to shere With them. The instinct of the Newfoundland to save life end the amaaitsg intelligence which it sho'srs whenever it aiteiupis to i-«jscuo drowning have suggested to the Conti­ nental Kiver Police the formation of a brigade of these brave animals to co­ operate with thee regular "Human So­ ciety," and the experiueiitB as reported by.'our emotional neighbors, the French, gave some surprising results. It was ap­ parently proved that the dogs d iscovered at once for themselves the actual de­ gree of danger of the immersed person, and acted accordingly. If a man pre­ tended to fall out of a boat they pricked up their ears and wagged their tails. But nothing more. If he called out for help they looked much puzzled, but still refrained frOm offering assistance. They saw that he was within arm's length of the boat; that the other man in it did nothing to help his unfortu­ nate comrade, set they put their saga­ cious black heada together and said one to another, "That drowner there is either a fool or an impostor. In either case we had better list him alone." And they did. But no experiment when the accident happened to a man or woman's clothes failed to send the dogs splash­ ing in at once, end if the object was a child the competition to save it was immediately furious. Ordinary pro- peri ty failed to attract their interest, but a hat floating down the stream made them at once uneasy, and the older dogs would go in and paddle up current and "quarter" the water, as if the association of a man's hat with his head were too atrong for the New­ foundland mind to disconnect the two, and as if the animal thought that if the one wa» there the other Would proba­ bly bo not far off. With the sheep dog, again, there is an analogous discrimination of circum­ stances. If a sudden storm comes on it first sets about herding those sheep which run the greatest risk and scour­ ing places where peril is the most like­ ly to be fatal. For the sake of a single straggler which it knows to have gone off it leaves the whole flock, and as soon as'it has got the whole number complete the tone of its voice, its ges­ tures change so significantly that the shepherd knows tnat all his charges are safe. On the homeward way the colley devotes all his best attention to the lame and weaklings, urging them on with a benevolent ferocity which the sheep thoroughly understands, and bestowing upon the rest ouly a per­ functory care. Arrived at the fold it immediately surrenders all responsibil­ ities. It says to the shepherd, "I know you are not good for much as a shep­ herd without me, but at any rate you can surely shut the sheep up for the night and count them by yourself. I am going to have my supper." The intelligence of the St. Bernard moves in the same arc. It is of the same degtee. No dog is less frivolous --less addicted to canine vanities. Even as puppies they find out their strength and weight, and the natural generosity of their character, so amply expressed in the broad, deep set of the forehead, the expression of thoughful dignity in the eye, makes them far more tolerant of trival affronts, more patient under amaU provocations, than their inferiors in size and sinew. When they grow up they carry themselves admirably in any "sccne" with which they may happen to get mixed up. Their presence often sufljoies to put a stop to a street brawl. The gravity with which they approach the cause of quarrel, the ponderous air of judicial impartiality with which they seem to investigate it, are too much for the little dogs of low degree or the vulgar types. Such dignity of bearing is in­ tolerable to the canaille. They slink off in various directions, overpowered by the suavity of the giant's address, the imperturable courtesy of hie a#an- ner.--London Telegraph. T ' „.IfeiHfetime, and after hi* death eft his writifega, reeprds, and observations were prints in a series of twenty volumes. Hie theoriee weep often at fault, owing to the imperfect knowledge and inaccurate reasoning of his tipie, but his observations were ac­ curate and c(>r jful, and recorded with the utmost clearness, and thus proved of the highest value in stimulating the de»eiopa«u4 of csttuU'jffiicsl science.-- Inter Oct an. Interesting Facta Abeut Air. There is always a wind at the burn­ ing of a building, because the heated air rises and the cold air rnshea in to take its place. _ fc'ound depends on the presence of air, because the air is put in motion by the action of the body producing sound,^ in . the same way as a pool of water is disturbed by throwing in a stone. The vibrations of the air grad­ ually expend themselves until they reach the ear> and cummunioate tho idea of sound to the mind. This is easily illustrated by clasping a small bell with the liund so as to stop the vibration, when the sound will in­ stantly cease; or if a bell be placed under an air pump, as the air is gradu­ ally exhausted, the sound will grow fainter, and finally cease altogether. All solid bodies conduct sound more readily than the air, and generally their conducting power is in propor­ tion to their density iron conducting ten and a half times better than air. Smooth, calm water is a very good conductor, and even the earth conducts sound much better than the atmos­ phere. Hence, the Indians, by laying their heads on the ground, will discov­ er the approach of game or the march of a body of men, when others in the same situation would hear nothing. But it is its agency in respiration which renders the study of the air mo3t important. In ordinary cases the lungs are filled with air twenty times in a minute, from ten to fifteen cubic inches being inspired each time, ac­ cording to the size of the individual. Thus every full-grown person re­ quires from twenty-five to thirty hogs­ heads of air daily, or more than one hogshead an hpur. Not only is this amount withdrawn from the atmos­ phere, but an equal quantity of an im­ pure and poisonous gas is returned in its stead. So there is a double source of con­ tamination, to say nothing of the large amount of matter thrown off the skin. The air thus received into the lungs is brought into contact with the whole mass of blood by a contrivance so won­ derful as to merit a more particular de­ scription. If tho assertion that "the devout as­ tronomer is mad" be true, much more must an undevout anatomist be liable to the same accusation; for in nothing is the wisdom and skill of the Deity more manifest than in the structure of the human frame. The l^ngs copsist of a light, porous substance, penetrated in every part by minute cells, separated from each other by a membrane of so peculiar a struc­ ture that the air readily passes through it, while the blood is retained. These cells are so exceedingly mi­ nute that a cubic inch contains 1,000,000 of them, and the whole lungs 180,000,000 with a superficial surface of 20,000 square inches, or nearly 140 square feet, and all wrapped up in a mass not more than ten inches in leflgth and five or eix inches in diameter. These cells are divided into layers, so arranged that the cells of one layer are filled with ai», while those of the layer next adjoining are occupied with blood, the two sets being separated by a membrane so porous that while the blood is retained, the air can readily pass through it. By this means the whole mass of blood is brought periodically in con­ tact with the air. The oxygen, amount­ ing to one-fifth of the whole, combines with the carbon of the blood and is ex­ pelled from tho lungs in the form of carbonic acid, while the nitrogen is re­ turned in a pure state.--Every Other Saturday. Tycho Bralie, the Astronomer. ' Tycho Brahe, the celebrated Danish astronomer, was born December 4, 1546, at Knudstorp, in the Province of Scania, which was,then a part of Den­ mark. He came of ancient princely family, and was educated by private tutors. In 1559 he entered the Univer­ sity of Copenhagen, being destined by his family for the law, but his observa­ tions of an eclipse of the sun in 1560 turned his mind toward astronomy. In 1562 he was sent to Leipsicto complete his law studies, but while there devoted his nights to astronomical observations. Inheriting a considerable fortune from an uncle in 15G5, he was left at liberty to pursue his astronomical experiments, in which he was encouraged by the Danish Government. After spending some time in study in Augsburg, lie re­ turned to Copenhagen in 1570, having now gained quite a wide reputation, which was greatly increased in 1572 by his discovery of the remarkable varia­ ble star afterwards called the "Star of Bethlehem." Shortly after this he married a peasant girl, which gave great offense to his relatives, but the King, Frederick IL, remained his stanch friend, and to secure to Den­ mark the honor of his discoveries gave him the island of Huena, and there built a labratory and a magnificent ob­ servatory. The observations conducted here by Brahe gave an impetus to the Btudy of astronomical science all over Europe, and the observatory was visited by philosophers and noted men from all countries. After the death of Fred­ erick, however, he lost a pension of 3,000 crown the king had given him, and was unable to keep up the ex­ penses of his observatory. In 1597 he left Denmark and went to Germany, where the Emperor Rudoph received him with every mark of distinction, and gave him a residence near Prague and a pension of 3,000 florins. In 1600 the Emperor gave him a spacious mansion in Prague, which Brahe purposed to tit up into an observatory after the plans of the one on the Is1 and of Huena, but his death, October 13, 1601, cut short the accomplishment of his purpose. Tycho Brahe was one of the most inde- fatigable astronomical observers that ever lived. He formed a catalogue of 777 stars, which bis pupill, afterward the world-renowned Kepler, increased from his records and notes to 1,000, and his very complete observations of the planet Mars gave this distinguished successor the groundwork on which to build his celebrated "Laws." Tycho Brahe did not accept the Copernican system-- for this only sound theory of the universe had to wait for the discov­ ery of the telescope for its most con­ clusive evidence--but held the Ptolem­ aic theory, which made the earth, not the sun, the center of the solar system. With all his intelleot and remarkable ' ' * • *1 • • «.:• •••fV J a ., One of Froude's Stories ef Carlyle. It is no exageration to say that if one of the stories in Froude's "Thomas Carlyie" had been published during the historian's life, no woman, unless possibly one of his kinsfolk as hard as himself, whould have ever spoken to him again. His wife, suffering from the combined effects of chronic neural­ gia and a terrible fall, with the nerves and muscles of one side entirely dis­ abled, lav on her bed, unable to close her mouth. He came into her room, looked at her, while he leaned against the mantelpiece--an act intensely irritating to a woman not vain, indeed, but proudly desirous not to look ill-- and said, "Jane, ye had better shut your mouth. Jane, ye'll find yourself in a more compact and pious frame of mind if ye shut your mouth." That Mrs. Carlyie Cndured this gibe and afterward remained near the man who inflicted it upon her, says much for her consistancy; but no woman who reads its crude brutality can afterward be open to conviction that there was anything good about Carlyie.--Ex­ change. The Detective at the Fashionable Wedding. In the first place, you know, he ap­ pears as a guest, and not in an official capacity. He wears a dress suit even if he has to rent it for tho occasion, a white tie, and a gold stud in his shirt bosom. The work is extremely diffi­ cult. Really, all that can be done is to watch the presents closely and see that nobody carries them off. Sometimes, in a large room, two men are required. Of course, we cannot prevent the crooks from working on the crowd, un­ less we happen to know them. If we spot any we know, they generally get out as quickly as possible without mak­ ing any trouble. After everything irj over, one man generally stays all night, because, as a rule, there are a great many strange servants in the house, who have been employed for the occa­ sion, nnd they need watching.--Phila- delpfcia frets. Pacified Hen Young wife--Why, Charlie, wtaat have yoti gone and bought a dog for ? Young husband--Ah--um, my dear, you know we can't eat everything that comes on the table; no family can. Young wife--O, Charlie! (crying) I knew you wouldn't like my cooking. Oh, dear, dear! Young husband--There, there! don't cry. I'll sell the dog.--Burlington Free Press. To ENTER safely into the married state, the contracting parties should understand human nature, and above all, their own dispositions, and then compare them frankly and candidly.-- L. C. Judson. *Mw»rd MMpSaint. The moat annoying feature abotit a m:\s juerade j»rty is the difietfltyof getting * nutak. Nobody eeems to know jbst where to go to buv ona Dealers in fancy goods shake their heads and send the numerous caller* off to hunt up some costume? who always lives up­ stairs in some out-of-the-way street, whose very appearance is enough to make ons i^arysl ou His extinction of witches aud w!>,»»*us, ximo was when only the members of Germany society invested in the mask; now it is in de­ mand every week during the winter season, and it constitutes the best "pay­ ing article in the costumier's stock. Every club and dancing society gives at least one ball masque during tho season; women find a fantom dance or domino party an inexpensive way to pay debts; every dancing academy gives each class a masquerade, and very of­ ten the winter entertainment at Sun- day-schools is a sheet and pillow-case party. The result i9 a cry is raised for masks, and the costnmer who has a lot of neatly-finished faces gets his purse lined. The great trouble with masks in gen- oral is the careless manner in which they are made. 'The paper u-ed is gen­ erally of the cheapest kind and dis­ agreeably odorous, but when it comes to the poor paint with which the face is colored the effect is overpowering. The suffocating feeing of these vise­ like faces is ones' reason why they are never woriy alt evening. The meu dis­ like them, and women who have had much experience with the little face- plasters refuse to wear them, preferring to buy a spectacle-frame and attach a little ruffle of lace to it, which can be made attractive and pretty, and also shroud the wearer in mystery. There are dainty little French masks made of red, pink, and yellow satin, but it is dflicult to buy them in this part of the globe. There has been no change in masks in fifty years. No attempt seems to be made to make the articles less an in­ strument of torture. But the variety of faces increases every season by the addition of some new character. The new faces are caricatures of some pro­ minent person, male or female, an actual likeness of some European or American celebrity, or some grotesque subject borrowed from fiction, the drama, or the animal kingdom. Men and women prominent in art, literature, the drama and music are favorite mod­ els for false faces, and persons who have gained notoriety through the newspapers rarely escape facemakers. The notabilities include the kings of England and France, some of the popes* Bacon, William Penn, Washington, Columbus, Danto, Cornwell, Raleigh, Rousseau, Voltaire, Raphael, Bismarck, Kaiser Wilhelm, Alfonso, Victor, Em­ manuel, Lord Beaconsfield, and John Brown. Among the celebrities on this side of the ocean are Talmage, Beecher, John MCcullough, General Grant, Roscoe Conkling, Carl Schurx, Tilden, Peter Cooper. John Kelly, Tweed, Ben Butler. President Arthur, John A. Lo­ gan, Vanderbilt, Jay Gould, Abraham Lincoln, and Horace Greeley. Of all these people Ben Butler and Boss Tweed sell the best, the bias eyes of the one and the enormous nose of the other being the features that charm the multitude. In the grotesque Henry Irving as the villiain of the "Lyons Mail" has a great sale, and after him comes John T. Raymond as Col. Sel­ lers. Among the female faces Lydia Pink- ham the "Witch of Wall street," Jose­ phine Mansfield, and Sarah Bernhardt are standards, and Mrs. Langtry, Mary Anderson, Maud Branscomb. Mme. Patti, Mme. Modjeska, Fanny Daven­ port, Miss Fortescue, tho empress of Austria, and Queen Isabel are shown in finer goods. For charades neuter faces are offered which are struck off from such strong models as George Sands, George Eliot, Rose Bonhour, Janauscliek, Matsrna, and Charlotto Cushman. In the miscellaneous line there are masks typical of the Irish, Yankee, negro, Esquimaux, Chinaman, kings, queens, students, clowns, harlequins, jockeys, puglists, doacons, and various trades. In the same class there nre peasants, dowagers, dudes, dandies, dowdies, fat women, old women, young women, coquettes," chubby babies, and mischievous toys. The jokes include cats, dogs, monkeys, frogs, donkeys, wolves, sheep, calves, foxes, and ele­ phants, besides indescribably ugly lu ads with movable jaw, lolling tongue, and wagging ears. These masks are to be had as low as a cent each, being made in Germany and France, where labor is cheap. Ordinarily 25 cents it* paid for a fair good face. The making of a mask is not such a simple matter as it seems. The materi­ als used are ordinary paper and a plas­ ter mold. The paper is placed on the latter until the proper thickness is at­ tained, after which a coat of paint is applied. The molds are made by sculp­ tors, who make a specialty of that kind of work. Dealers' who order the goods usually send photographs which they wish re­ produced, but often the portraits* are far from bearing any resemblance to the model, and when the gross of re­ presentations of Mile. Aimee is re­ ceived from the manufacturer the deal­ er would never be able to recognize the once-famous opera-buffe singer but for the name on the package. The full mask, which covers the f4ce and head and rests on the shoulders, is a much more difficult article to make. Molds are required for the vairous sections into which the cast is divided, and when made the several pieces are put togeth­ er with such neatness that it is impos­ sible, to detect the seams.-- Qhicago Tribune. She Couldn't SpelL "There's something I want you to read," said Fogg, laying down a letter. "It's from my wife. But don't criticise the orthography, please. Fact is, Mrs. F. was a school teacher for a great many years, and therefore she never learned to spell. It wasn't necessary, you know. She always had the spell­ ing book when she was hearing her class. But it comes rather awkward now for her when she comes to writo a '•--Boston Transcript Small Coin. In a certain province in southern Russia a coin is current which is made in the form ef a wafer from the juice of a tree. Its value is so microscopic that 250,000 would be required to purchase an American dollar. MANY people take no cure of their money till they have come nearly to the end of it, ana others do the same with their time.--Goethe. GREAT men are like meteors; they glitter and are consumed t# enlighten the world ---Napoleon i • .»• f , v „ •>' * •" Mtt i is ai thtf ttakee: boy to his sister. *I%now wtmt it is ~ the little girl; "it's tobat drnwbaek Jog of y is, that he is not old, ugly, rh-- sffiicted triti the gesi. Carl Prcts^. c!':t IVeekly. ^ XiKAii'jtA, does your feet leek ?" aatfoS little Joe, when he aaw water dripping from his maternal relative* pedil ex­ tremities, just after she emerged from a bath.--Carl Pretzel's Weekly. WHEN little Willie L first heard the braying of a mule he was greatly frightened, but after thinking a minute he smiled at his fear, saying: "Matama, jusf^ hear that poor horse with thf whooping-cough I" ,;SS TWO-I.IP TRIOLET, < A thrill of osculation; rv • A dainty little kiss; •si- ' H A moment of persuasioa. »A thr.ll of ofenlattoa--* Extremely sweet sensation-- vaweeteensaaon-- harm is there in tbisl -izr*' ' : xtremalj What i thrill of ofleulation, _ . A dainty tittle kiss? Ms a. RAMSBOTHAM is astonished to hear there are parties who complain of the Government for vacillation. Considering what a dreadful distemper smell-pox is, she has no patience with those anti-vacillationalists. -- Loudon Punch. - Hi 'ifs * •» A JIYMN AS WRimmt "Welcome, sweet dar of rest. That saw the Lord arise; Welcom to this rev.vinsr breast And these rejoicing eyes." And as sun? by our choir: "Waw-kaw, swaW, daw aw waw, Thaw saw, thaw law aw waw, •. , ' Waw-kaw. taw. thaw, raw-vaw-vaw bra#' Aw thaw raw Jaw saw aw." ' 3$ "Do YOC think you will see Smith down-town to-day ?" asked Jones of 1 , friend." "Yes." "Will you give hiih this note for me ?" "Yes." "You are quite sure you will see him ?" "O, I haven't the slightest doubt in th#v world that I will meet him somewheriii I owe him $20."--New York Mail. A YOUTH who attended a Scotch re­ vival meeting for the fun of the tliingt ironically inquired of the minister "whether he could work a miracle or not." The young man's curiosity waa fully satisfied by the minister kickir^g him out of the church, with the male* ̂ diction, "We cannot work miracles, bnt we can cast out devils!" UNCLE JACK--"Why, Sally, you look melancholy. What's the matter t* Sally (just returned from the funeral, of a very dear friend in Massachusetts): "I have been in Boston the last few days, aud--." Unole Jack--"O! dotffc " let that depress you, my dear girj. You'll get over it in a day or two. Whjr, look at me. I lived there once." "I PAY the quarter part of that yopng fellow's tailor bill," remarked a gentle­ man, referring to an exquisit on the, opposite side of the street, "though I never have spoken a word to him in nrT life." "You do! Why, I thought he " procured his clothes from the same tailor you do ?" said his companion. "So he does," waa the reply, "but ifi does not pay for his."--Pittsburgh Chronicle. v- THE DOO AND THE IXUCTS. . •*. A do* within a srrocery sat, ; \V , Beside a buskctfnl of fat ' ; ' , / And lucious grapes: . V And as the tl es flew in to sip The grape-juice, this.Herco.doff would snip * *4 Them up. A snap--kizip! No fly escapes. , i •; Bu' soon a hornet floated by. Snap! Whiz! IlehoM the gToeerl And hear that yell. • A streak of dojr is all we see! And why that hornet In the tree Seems jtxst as irlad us he can be, }""t •>'< I cannot teU. --Cincinnati TUaes-Star. ^ IT come* pretty hard on somo serv* > ^ ants to give up their ponition where ' they can run things and settle down into the humble position of wives. "Mary," said a lady to one such, recent* ly, "have you come back to be a hirod . girl again? I thought you left us to . get married and have a home of your own." "So I did, mum." "Well, whet have you come bock for?" "Well,you j see, mum. John's done pur ty well, an' we kep'a hired girl, too, and I'm kind '<1 o' tired av the way of life. I thought I'd like to come back an' be boss agin for awhile." * INCORRIGIBLE -- Fair Philistine: \ "Yes, we've just returned from a visit to Antwerp, and of course wo saw Rn~ j bens' great picture at the cathedral. 1 | d o n ' t l i k e i t a b i t . I n e v e r y e t s i w n • picture by him I did like." Artist * (more in sorrow than in anger): "Pet- • haps you have not come across the best examples of that master." Fair Phil- ,, istine: "Perhaps not. By the byet there was one Rubens there I liked.* , Artist (much relieved): "Ah ! there * < was one, I'm glad of that." Fair Phil- ^ istine: "Yes; it was a picture pi hie death painted by somebody else." Curiosities of the Mails. - ^ Only domestic letters are opened by the Dead Letter Office, and of these* duridg tho last year, 15,000 contained money; 18,000 contained drafts, checke > and money orders, and 16,000 contained receipts. In these letters the actual v, money received was $32,047, and the drafts, checks, and money orders . amount to the enormous sum of more than $1,300,000. In these letters there were 35,000 photographs and 66,000 of them contained postage stamps. A great many of them contained article! - of merchandise and curiosities of vari­ ous kinds, and there is now in the Dead .Letter Office museum, enough specimens of different things, which have been sent through the mails, tie fill the shelves of a good sized parlor* These curiosities are of all kinds, from a dirty Bliirt cuff to a polished dirk, . from hand-mado lace Indian moccasin^ . » from a cow's hoot to a human skull, from an eagle's claw to 3 live snake, from an Easter card to an alligatorr - and from gold nuggets to fine jewelry. Everything, in fact, that one would think impossible to send through th|lf mails, people attempt to mail.--Cfove* land Leader. Advantage > of a Pistol. The following conversation between •, two Houston negroes, one of whom was exhibiting a new pistol that he had ^ < just purchased, goes to illustrate th|l A; lamblike natures of the children of , Ham. "What use has jou got for a pisti^fKfS Yon has got a knife ter defend versed wid if anybody 'tacks yer." " 1 • "Yer can't make de jury believe del 5 ; a knife wen't off' accidently itse'f and killed somebody, but you kin make a 1 pistil go off accidently, and kill some­ body ef dey has a spite agin yer."-- Texas Si/tings. » THE attempts to raise vegetables in Greenland are not marked witli anjf*?" "great success. At 64 degrees long­ itude, however, carrots prosper, tnrnipf ; " come to perfection, and cabbages pr<& ; : duce tolerably large leaves. Potatoep never get larger than marbles. S • FROG legs are now the faahionablei * dish for lunch. ' . ;;':C t* . **» Ht*if . . a i l t - . - x j . t • *