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1 V; i i Ml* •• • * ILLINOIS. . WBWqjtf. KXmMATHW, • ' ... P»®\. MUM % tritod in my ' w£a*fata gsme wife. Br ;f \ les WkVlatted aapai, MttU imaged wide u' wider, ___ -J** linek dry taMerta--well, INirwbtd 'em down with ctdwr. , Vitii that eider eoarain' thru '•ht. f A, f r, r 'aplnyin' «••»-..-•• i, IliwdljrlCBW^-;^... ' wits » snyin*. . =,"!•*•• iirin*aiiBmtter that I span Abighfalatta ttorr Jl>o«t&« Princeof Walae. and«• r Aboatt cM Qneea Victori*. - ' Stat,eakea alive! I never dreaaaSi Th« on«i would got it printed. that old Queen I'm much eitetmed, •ha has often hinted.) hldthe critter neow, « et fvax boots I'd larn hirS ft mighty lively fashion hsow g&M ." , To walk the chalk, got darn hlmt; '•••"> while, between hi* folks and mine i breach grows wider <m<i wider, by the way, it's my design To irlve up diintta' ciikw. THE MEMORY OF A blue -water of the oacan ahfiost below yoar feet, an' see the Wfctts *«dSi of the ship* that went by to the fcaifeer. " 'It WM > prettyptaee,an'by *A* by «ME • rich genttamantfclt Oalled hissalf in artist--to paint,or, as hs said, to ikiteh, ear beautiful Irish MWBHJ. He kid t fair face, an' a fine, smooth tongue; he nw our Kathleen, then a pretty ehud of 16 or thereabouts, an' he made m*wr excuses to oome to our little tiotae' on the hill, though the ouldmither let him tee plain enough that he was not wanted them. He Was a master hand to talk out of the books --like you, Mies Amelia--an' we, the mither and me, we grew to hate him so, an' when I heard yOu Maying the verv words he used to say, I feared I should hate you, too, for it minded me so of him; so I let on that I didn't understand your book talk, thinking maybe you would stop it for fear of laughing in my face--an' ft looks well for your kind heart that you didn't laugh, Miss. " 'Well, as I said,we grew to hate him an' hfe smooth talk, for we could see that he was turning oar Kathleen's head, an' we An'A* 'mm 22^iTSL»r» -* ltfla had fell on him, he looked it put up a big monitnent for her, with Us «HOM on it, aa'that "faithftU mi* death,* an" they laid her on the hilltop where her feel h|d «#rn the grass away. An' for the nUtherti wfhh be h|d the priest to bless the spot whete she fies. But I ean't help bating, him yet. f< fas took our Kalhie front ua, nn' itfebWM back to me if I hear a bit of "Kathleen Mavourneen." 'But,' she added, rousing herself, *it is late, it is time to go into the house.' , " 'Yes,' said Amelia, wiping her eye Btealthily, this meeting is adjourned etite die.'* BT BETH PAT. , Aunt Marcia had beat a school-teacher in the wilds of Northern Wisconsin, and "f many and varied were the tales she used to relate of her experience while there; and so, when we were sitting together one after- f -? noon, Aunt Marcia langhed at one of my X,;'. Avorite Quotations, but apologized imrne- <|v'Y diately by saying, "I was not laughing at i^*$C.*wfaat you said, dear, but at a vision your f " quotation conjured up." I knew there was jj< *:« story to be had for the {isking, and so |*<r,. ' aaid eoaxingly: I* "What was'it, Auntie?" And Aunt Mar- '• «ia took off her glasses, and laying them yaside with her sewing, took up her knitting, T and punctuating her sentences with the « *-. elick of the needles, replied: I; "It called up a picture of Amelia Ellis, fy who boarded with lbs. Jones the summer ̂ • ' Jlutt I did, when 1 taught school in their t\ v1 district. •»$**./ «When I entered the railway carriage at - .' Millon Station, to go oat to my school, there H',*' , Was but one place vacant in the car, and * , Ahtrt was beside a young lady of, appar- : ently, my own age. gi'. > " We soon fell into conversation with each other. Mid discovered that we were going :•>, to the same village; and on leaving the - train, in eivine directions to the stage Kv driver ns to where he should take us, found |"we were going to the same place to board, djjj- ' "We had still n five-mile journey by stage pi - before us, and by the time we reached our destination, had become quite well ac- f -V ^uainted, in true scbool-girl style. f . Amelia's parents were Bostonians, but had ^ , moved west when she was quite young; she %&d, therefore, imbibed some of our wes- notions, which had, so to speak, tabbed the sharp edges from her severe , Bolton culture, and I found her much more *. ;> • companionable than is the average Bos- < * <(askn; though she did talk much of cut- ? * and was always quoting her favorite •' ^ .authors. She was going to the country for •i \ health; 'Papn told me,' she lemarked, "^Utat Jfrs. Jones is not a cultivated woman, ̂;4ttl tlat she is pleasant and obliging, and V 4hstt it Is a desirable place to board.* mJSn. Jones was expecting us, and her ik Ifrelc: me. though ungi nmmatical, was cor- made us feel at home immedi- Joces was Irish, though one ily know it from her eon versa­ tile was hurried, angry, or ex- times her brogue was very Jones was English; and our stay with them we heard the aad bad qualities of the representa- of the two nations discussed almost me times, too, with more warmth occasion, seemed to demand. At fhe ready Irish wit of Mrs. s her the advantage, and Mr. silenced, if not convinced. "Our summer with them was a very one, although Mrs. Jones proved of a puzzle to Amelia and my- 'Bbe was pleasant, obliging, and _ without being obtrusive, and did her power to make our slay ,«nd we found her ^ asfps of a companion than we had at She was naturally very and had read quite extensively, Who had so little leisure; and yet-- ̂a^d herein lay the puzzle-^she seemed not to nijierstand the simplest quotntion, and «s»alff make some ridiculous re- " ' bow little she understood, the gems of prose and verse me Ha Was constantly stringing upon the threads of her conversation. I was not so ready myself; and then, too, I had no­ ticed ttta- peculiarity of Mrs. Jones, and sHttthsmt wiek or two disliked to make S A N«w Household Game. . \ f While in some classes of gamePflfefe hfcve been many modern examples which has become popular, very few ^ ^ purely of skill have been invented and fen red he meant harm to the girlie; for J have come to have any reputation, why would he want to marry the likes of This season a new claimant for favor in her? j this Hne has appeared and bids fair to * 'She was a good singer, was Kathie; j command recognition as aq. exception her voice was clear and sweet as a robin's, to the general rule. It is called Hahna, an' he sang "Kathleen Mavourneen to her till she would 6ing nothing else. An' the mither talked with her an' told what she feared, an' it did no good; an' then, in anger, she forbid him the house. An' he went away, an' Kathiu said no word, but the tears looked out of her gray eyes. An' that very day she saw him again, and I dared not tell the mither, for I did not know*what she would do, an1 I thought I would talk to Kathie, an' maybe she would hear to me. But the next night, when I went to find her, she was gone from her little room. An' in the gray light she crept softly up the stairs in her white dress. An' when she saw that I was beknowing it, she cried rnd beeged me not to tell the mither. uBut,n says she, "I couldn't stay in the house. O Norah! can't you pity me a little?" An' then she broke down an' sobbed in my arms. " 'But why are you all in white, Kathie?' I asked her; an' she laughed through her tears. K' "Oh, Norah! so noone would speak to me; they'd think me a ghost*" " 'An' I thought by this that she had been alone. An' though I was older than Kathie, I remembered well when 1 WM as young as she, an' the pain of a hem tache that came to me then made me tender of her in her trouble. An' I said no word of it to the mither, for I knew it would worrit her. Then Kathleen began to take long walks, and I feared she was with him; an' the hate I felt for him grew deep and bitter. " 'An' two months from the day the mither forbid him the house I heard him singing "Kathleen Mavourneen" under the morning stars. Then I heard the gate shut softly, an' I looked out an' saw Kathie run up the path to the big hill, an' soon they stood to­ gether at the top, an' I saw them against the sky, where the stars were just dying a purely fanciful name from an entirely different Greek game, and was invented by a well-known professional gentle­ man while visiting friends in' a little village in Normandy where he amused them by inventing two or three games every evening, the early sunset in that high latitude seemingly to daily stimulate his fancy to newiinventions. On his Return to America* the serious duties of his profession absorbed his powers and he forgot everything which he had thrown out in those leisure hours. But, among those flashes, there was one which his friends remembered and treasured, and in 1885 they re­ called it to his memory and persuaded lifm to perfect and publish it. Its friends gave it the pet name of Hoppity. It is played on a board with four times as many squares as chess. There is but one form for the pieces those of each plaver having a distinctive color, and each piece has but two kinds of moves. The rules of the game con be learned in a minute, but the moves are so happily related that no two games are ever alike. It may be played by two or four persons. If two play, the nine­ teen squares in the corner at the left hand of each player are enclosed by a line forming tbe "yard." Nineteen pieces are placed at these nineteen squares in each of the two* corners, black in one corner and white in the opposite. The game consists in changing the place of all the pieces so that the nineteen white pieces may oc­ cupy the squares of the black and vice-versa. Each piece has two kinds out. An' I thought how I should like to j of moves: first, the move of a king in set my teeth in his white throat, an' choke the life out of him, an' my teeth went so tight together with the bare thoaght of it that I could hardly open my mouth to speak to the child when, a little later, she ran into my room crying as if her poor heart would break, an' begging me not to tell the mither. An* how could 1 help but promise when she said: " ' "It was good-bye, Norah. He's gone now, an' when he comes again it will be all right." " 'Then she dried ber eyes, an' for days she was happy as a bird. Soon I noticed that every day as the dawn Was" breaking, an' again whea the sun was going down, she would stand on the big hill; and I knew she was longing and looking for him. An' soon a look of fear began to creep into her eyes, an' all the color faded out of her cheeks. The neighbors whispered ill of ht-r, an' it hurt her cruelly, so she never lift the house but to go to the hill; an' no one came to us because of what they said of Kathleen, an' we could not tell them it was a lie. Ah! me, but the ould mither's heart was nigh broke with the pain of it. " 'But these came a night when Kathie did not see the hill, nor the sea. A wild stormy night it was, too. An awsome night for us in the cottage on the hill, for when the chill gray dawn broke over the world Kathleen Killorin was a mother. The old minister laid the baby in Kathie's weak arms, an' raised her own withered an' shaking hand to call on God to curse the father. But Kathie's voice came back to her then--she had said no word through all the awful night--an' she said, sharp like, "Don't, mither; he irati come back, if be is alive, an' you will forgive him; but oh! I fear he is dead, dead." " ' "I hope he is," said the mither,"then1 he will break no more mithers' hearts." , "' "I will be all right, if he lives." said Kathie. T " 'But it could not be all right to us, an't seemed to live but on the hate I bore him. Hate that grew stronger, an' deeper, an* bitterer with every day, until it seemed fierce enough to reach out an' curse him in his distant home. " 'An' poon Kathleen went to the hill again night an' morn, but his name was never in her presence. At length j mentioned in the home. It WAS the first occurred to me that a part, at time shame had come to the house of Kil- sr ignorance upon the subject, ' lorin, an' it was hard to bear. An' the assumed, and the more I pondered neighbors thought every night to hear the over it, the more I became convinced that Banshee cry for Kathleen, she grew so this was the case. | thin ; nd pale; but the boy grew hnle and "One evening when we were alone I spoke strong, the very picture of his father, an' to Amelia of my suspicion, and found that; walked before he was a year old, an' Kathie the same thought had occurred to hei . We still went to the hill. •ould give no reason for it, but 1 noticed j " 'One morning she wint as usual, an' lift thai Amelia began to give up her quota- 1 ^e little lad asleep in her room up stairs. 1 was summer then, an' the windows were paseed quickly, and on the eve of OW departure--for Amelia had decided to return with me--we two sat together-under •a apple tree in the garden. We had been •peaking of our sudden friendship and earning separation, and a silence had fall- n open; an' when she came back he had waked an' toddled to the window. He saw ber on' leaned far out, holding his arms to her an' lunghing an' cooing, an' she ran, an' screamed to us, but too lute; he fell be­ fore we could reach him, an' his head 2 over us, which was broken by Amelia, who | struck on a sharp stone, an' all his life rah - began to sing, to a wild, melancholy air, : ont through the jugged wound it made. ' ' ' woids of the old song, 'Kathleen Mavonr- i Kathie's heart broke whin she saw it, au* seen, the gray dawn is breaking.' Before ! Bhe dropf ed down beside bim. We carried sho had finished the first stanza a figure i them in. an' laid them side by side on the darted from the house toward us, and Mrs. j ould mither's bed. An' when the sun Jones laid a strong hand upon the singer's i went down Kathie raised her head an' shoulders. | tried to look toward the sea. An' a light when he poor «"*• t'j "en», now. I've frightened you, and " I didn t mean to do that,' she continued, as Amelia shrank back; 'but it sounded so like the voice of one that's dead and gone that I couldn't bear it. Maybe you would like to hear about her?' she said, and we assented, making room for her on the rus­ tic bench beside us; but she shook her head, and sat down on the gras* near us elasping her hands around hf r' knees. ' " I don't know why I tell vou this,' she •aid joresently--* mv own children have neverheard it; but the old song has waked my iftetnory, and it's that, maybe, that bids me tefl it, and makes me feel that I must .talk to-uight. "*3t ?«0-in. Ire laud, that J come. I am come for my wife." it l»BKHn--v is. 1(1 dended. too-when I was " ' "Ye have no wife here,"said the mither. J J"® " ,h*°< bit of a I " 4 "Ah! but I have," say* fee,"Kathleen is " .v°^4 a blithe ns a ! my wife, we were married long ago, but I •ha in'ii n iiK 'i >. to j bid her not to tell vou, till I should the on.d mil her. 1-ere was a long io%of «R.in r„* li.in green mounds in the ttraveyurd, nn' each Kathie. " 'An' the mither set her lips tight,but she said no word. An' Kathleen never spoke again; the death-dew gathered on her cold forehead, an' we closed her eyes an' laid the boy in her dead arms, and wint out an' shut the door; an' the ould mither's face looked cold an' hard, " 'An' before the due on the grass was dry next day. a man came walking quickly up the path, an' we knew bim. an' the ould my mother stood in the door. | " 'He looked bright and happy-like, an' . teeth went t-hut when I saw bim. j " '" Ah! mither," says he,"once you forbid i me the bouse, but now you will let me bore ihe name of Killorin, an' the one that was JJI'WT'BL WHS the father's. AN'ell, being •* sl:e was the lust of so many, we clung all the more to the little one. 8he grew to be A comely lass, not like us in her ways, but wiit» a dainty, Lidy-Jike. air, an' a love for •tookx an' school in'. Au* we worked hard, the mither an' me, to send her to t-chool an" to save her pretty hands from the rough work at home. An' well she paid us for it, with her bright, loving ways. Many a mid­ night--when the child was asleen. so that it wn*«aj>ek»«wt2 to her--saw the mither m' ItiO .-apjfeiipa" or knittin --extra work, that we lmjiht'lMty for Kathie some ribbon or gown we knew she wanted. The neigh­ bors to W1 us we would spoil the girlie, that site would be a-hamed of her poor home *b»n we had made a lady of her, bnt we •ever heeded; we could tru*»t our Kathleen, in* those were h»ppy,days. , * *Y. e lived on ahill, an' a higher hillrose feeyo&t it, an' from that you could see the come again. But the ship was wrecked, and I was carried so far away, it has leen so Ion?, mither; suiely the hnstold you bo^w I coaxed ber to marry before I went aw4y --for I feared you would take her from me, an' I loved her BO, mither." " ' "Man," said she, "do you swear it? "YFS," said he,wondering-like, "I swear " '-"An' you will swear it to the priest, that he may tell it to the people?" ' "Yes," said he, again. " ' "Th'jn go," said the mither, "an' when ye come back again, ye shall pee your wife." " '"May I not see'her ene moment first, mither?" said he. " ' "No!" she answered him. "Go!" " 'An' it seemed but a little time till he eame a^ain, and tbe mither stood the while in the door. An' this time she said no word, but she led bim to where Kathie lay with her baby on her arm, an' he went into the loom, nn' gave a great cry an* fell like one dead on the floor beside the bed where [they lay; an' the mither smiled then, a chess, and secondly a jumping) move, in which it jumps any other piece in any direction and continues so to jump as long as possible, so that if the pieces were properly arranged one might jump entirely across the board at one move. There is no taking of pieces as in checkers, and a player jumps his own and his adversary's pieces indiscrimin­ ately. These are all the rales, and ex­ perience develops the possibilities of the game. This board is very easily and simply drawn by ruling a sheet of card into squares of sixteen on a side, with pencil or ink lines. Then sepa­ rate in each of two opposite corners, nineteen squares from the remainder of the board by a heavy black line, making a "yard" of the nineteen squares. If four play, lmt thirteen men each are used in smaller yards, in the four corners, and the players may join as partners. For more than a year this game has been in use among the friends of the inventor, and it has attracted so much attention in this and foreign countries that several set have been made by hand until its publication has seemed a necessity, such is the fascination of its simplicity and cpm- plenty.--Good Housekeeping. - Thurman'g Red Bandannas* When at home Judge Thurman keeps goodly supply of the famous red ban­ danna handkerchiefs in an old writing desk that formerly belonged to his grand-father. A visitor, who was quite intimate with the family, tells how the old statesman prepares for a tour around town: "First he opened a lit­ tle drawer and took out a white pocket- handkerchief which he placed in an in­ side pocket of his coat. Then a silk handkerchief of the same color was put in an upper pocket, and from another drawer a flaming red bandanna was selected and pnt in the outside pocket of the overcoat, where it would be handy after an inspection of the snuff­ box, which the Judge always carries full of sneezing material. This was all done before removing his slippers, and just before the finishing touches were given to his toilet. Mrs. Thurman ap­ peared and put on her husband's shoes, which she carefully laced and tied se* curely." "How long have yon done this?" inr quired the visitor. "Ever since our marriage," replied Mrs. Thurman, "and I trust the Judge will be spared to me for many years to wait on in the same manner." Then there was a careful inspection of the bandanna pocket, and with a kindly look and cheerful word the Judge was sent out to mingle with his associates for the day in a happy and contented frame of mind.--Washing­ ton Critic. * 5* . I-.n* i !,• The Cost of French OoTerMaenifc Since the beginning of the century the li udgeis of the VuiiGUd Governments in France have been continually aug­ menting, until to-day the Government costs the country 463,000 francs per hour. During the century Frtrace has, in fact, disposed of 186 milliards of francs. If this enormous sum were made up in pieces of five francs it would form a ribbon which, according to a Paris journalist, would go thirty times round the world, and would weigh 800,- 000 tons of 1,000 kilogrammes each. Given a second to lift every piece it would take a thousand years' constant work to turn over this colossal sum. Outside the loans the consulate and the empire did away with 1(5 milliards, the restoration 1<H milliards, the Gov­ ernment of Louis Philippe 22 milliards, the second republic 0, the,, second em­ pire 41, and the third republic, until 1882, 38 milliards. Under these differ­ ent regimes the Governments cost the country per hour--115,000 francs for the consulate and first empire, 110,000 francs for the resto­ ration, 150,000 francs for Louis Philippe, 173,000 francs for the second republic, 249,000 francs for the second empire, and 40,500 francs for the pres­ ent economic government up to 1882. Since then the rate of eonsumption has reached 463,000 francs--over £18,500 per hour. toaettl»**«£»v«r ous countixrottndi Ahont uncomfortably chilbr lor Utis earlv in agreeable night, when 1 deecry a village perched in an opening among the moun­ tains a mile or thereabouts off to the right," write* Thomas Stevens in Lnti- itig. " Repairing thither, I find it to be a Koordian village, where the hovels are more excevations than buildings; buffaloes, horaes, goats, chickens, and human being* *11 find shelter under the same low roof; their respective "quarters are notliing but a mere railing of rough poles, and aa the question of ventilation is never even thought of, the effect upon one's olfactory nerves upon entering is anything bnt reassuring. The filth and rags of these people are something abominable; on account of the chilliness of the evening they have donned their heavier raiment; these have evidently had rags patched on top of other rags for years past until they have gradually developed into thick-quilted garments, in the innumerable seams of which the most disgusting entomological speci­ mens, bred and engendered by their wretched mode of existence, live and perpetuate their kind. However, repul­ sive as the outlook most assuredly is, I have no alternative but to cast my lot among them till morning. "I am conducted into the Sheikh's apartment, a small room partitioned off with a pole from a stable full of horses and buffaloes, and where darkness is made visible by the sickly glimmer of a grease lamp. The Sheikh, a thin, sal­ low-faced man of al>out forty years, is reclining on a mattress in one corner, smoking cigarettes; a dozen ill-condi- tioned ragamuffins are squatting about in various attitudes, whilst the rag-tag and bob-tail of the population crowd into the buffalo stable and survey me and the bicycle from outside the parti­ tion pole. "A circular wooden tray containing an abundance of bread, a bowl of yaort, and a small quantity of peculiar stringy cheese that resembles chunks of dried codfish, warped and twisted in the dry­ ing, is brought in and placed in the mid­ dle of the floor. Everybody in the room at once gather around it and begin eat­ ing with as little formality as so many wild animals; the Sheikh silently mo­ tions for me to do the same. The yaort bowl contains one solitary wooden spoon, with which they take turns at eating mouthfuls. One is compelled to draw the line somewhere, even under the most uncompromising circum­ stances, and I naturally draw it against eating yaort with this same wooden spoon; making small scoops with pieces of bread, I dip up yaort and eat scoop and all together. These particular Koords seem absolutely ignorant of any­ thing in the shape of mannerliness, or of consideration for each other at the table. When the yaort has been dipped into twice or thrice all round, the Sheikh coolly confiscates the bowl, eats part of what is left, pours water into the remain­ der, stirs it up with his hand, and delib­ erately drinks ft all up; one or two others seize all the cheese, utterly regardless of the fact that nothing but bread remains for myself and their com­ panions, who, by the by, seem to regard it as a.perfectly natural proceeding. "After supper" they return to their squatting attitudes around the room, and to a resumption of their never-ceas- ing occupation of soratching themselves. The eminent economist who lamented the wasted energy represented in the wagging of all tne dogs' tails in the world, ought to have traveled through Asia on a bicycle and have been com­ pelled to hob-nob with the villagers; he would undoubtedly have wept with sor­ row at beholding the amount of this same wasted energy, represented by the above-mentioned occupation of the peo­ ple. The most loathsome member of this interesting company is a wretched old hypocrite who rolls his eyes about and heaves a deep-drawn sigh of Allah! every few minutes, and then looks fur­ tively at myself and the Sheikh to ob­ serve its effects; his sole garment is a round-about mantle that reaches to his knees, and which seems to have been manufactured out of the tattered rem­ nants of other tattered remnants tacked carelessly together without regard to shape, size, color, or previous condition of cleanliness; his thin, scrawny legs are bare, his long black hair is matted and unkempt, his beard is stubby and unlovely to look upon, his small black eyes twinkle in the semi-darkness like ferret's eyes, whilst soap and water have to all appearances been altogether stricken from the category of lrn per­ sonal requirements. "Probably it is nothing bnt the lively workings of my own imagination, but this wretch appears to me to entertain decided preference for my society, constantly insinuating himself as near me as possible, necessitating constant watchfulness on my part to avoid actual contact with him." - MAGGIK MITCHELL, it is said, looks as young as ever. When Maggie was really young she yearned to play Juliet and kindred parts, says the Boston Times. but yielded . to advice and as­ sumed the line of character* with which she has become identified. Women Who Eat Arsenic. "Just take a good look at this woman coming toward us and tell me what you think of her," was the low-toned re­ mark of a well-known physician. The woman to whom he referred was elegantly dressed in a polka-dot silk walking costume, and her plump, well- developed figure was displayed with a true fashionable precision. "So you didn't see anything queer about her, eh ?" asked the physician. Well, I'll tell you what I saw. First, that woman's eyelids, particularly the lower ones, were puffy and full, pre­ senting the same appearance that en­ sues when one indulges in a good fit of crying. That complexion which you admired was really and truly of an ala­ baster whiteness, but the delicate pink was produced by paint and the dead white by arsenic." " 44Arsenic! How do you know tribe takes arsenic?" "Because two years ago she came to me, a thin, -almost gaunt woman, ar,d asked me for a prescription for her complexion, which was in a terrible condition. You see she had been using face powders and paints in her stage 'make-up' and they had finally brought on skin disease. Well, an arsenical so­ lution is the constituent part of any prescription for the complexion. I gave her such a prescription, but warned her that she must use it in small doses, and after three months she must gradually increase the inter vals between doses until they finally cease at the end of the four mouths. She promised to obey me, but she didn't. Just as soon as she found that the arsenic was improving her complex­ ion I know what followed as if I were there to see it. She commenced to in cresse the doses, in accordance with the popular fallacy that if a little is good > more must be better." "Well, if arsenic produce* all theso with ̂ „ are tempo***?, alid she will *0«n be- eepi* a phyaiehl Bofor* *he geto back to to*ft from 'the road* a*xt spring she will commence to notice, while combing her hair, that it is ping out very freely, I havr heir? warning her that this symptoms will soon develop. don't believe me now, bnt just as as the hair-f«lling commences she will know I am speaking the truth. Sho will stop her arsenic doses in a panic, Mid in two weeks she will be the worst looking object that ever wore female clothing. The cutting off of the arsenic supply will precipitate the very trouble she will hope to avert.' Her cheeks will sink in, her finger nails will com­ mence to crack and split and before a week her complexion will bo gone. Out of sheer desperation she will re­ sume her arsenic and will be tempo­ rarily benefitted. She will have the worst symptoms of arsenical poisoning before next summer is over, and will be so hideously ugly that she will have to retire from the stage, whether she wants to or not." ' "Whatare the final results of Hie dis­ ease ?" "Palpitation of the heart, a deadly oppression in breathing, itching eyes, stiffness of the joints and terrible ema­ ciation. In this condition the slightest cold will bring on galloping consump­ tion and death. Yet I know that arse- nic eating is. on the increase;*--New York Star. From Jail to Congress. "When Daniel Webster was in De­ troit in 1-836," said Levi E. Dolsen to a Detroit Tribune reporter, "he made a speech in the old Cass orchard, about where J. F. Joy's house now stands. After the speech I remember, in speak­ ing to me of our Representative in Con­ gress at that time, the Rev. Gabriel' Richard, he paid Mr. Richard the high compliment of saying that he was the smartest foreigner he had ever known. "There was an interesting incident connected with the election of Richard to Congress. He was a Catholic priest and came of the best blood of France. When the Revolution was beheading all the nobility the Rev. Richard was nearly caught, by Robespierre. He jumped from a window, and a woman threw a teapot and cut an ugly gash in his cheek, the scar of which was in plain view to the end of his life. After living for several days in the sewer* of Paris he escaped and reached Baltimore in 1796. Two years later, in 1978, he reached Detroit. His statue is one of the four on the city hall. In 1823, just about the time the reverend gentleman was elected to Congress, a man named Labadio deserted his wife in Montreal, came to Detroit, married again, and en­ gaged in the mercantile business. He was excommunicated from the church by the Rev. Father Richard, and the, French people, who had been his prin­ cipal patrons, stopped trading with him. Labadie procured the arrest of the priest for slander, and he was confined in jail. When the time came for him to go to Congress the turnkey entered the corridor ono morning, when the priest approached him with majestic mem and a lofty wave of the haujl and said: 'Stand asid6,1 am on my way to Cong ress.' The turnkey 'was so overwhelmed with the majestic bearing of the man that he offered no opposition, and Father Richard took his seat on time. Labadie afterward sued him and got a judgment of $1,100, but never collected ftC^ftt." • One Side of the Question. *1 see," said a man, addressing a companion, ."that a writer in the Scien­ tific American says that laughter pro­ longs life." "How does he explain his theory ?" "Well, I don't exactly know, but he says that it starts into circulation little hidden particles of blood which would otherwise remain dormant. Then he goes on humorously to say that the time may come when physicians will prescribe so many laughs to be taken so many hours apart." I dare say, but how do you suppose the physician could produce laughter at a stated time. It wouldn't do to give liini laughing gas for that pro­ duces anger more often than it does mirth." That's a fact. How would it do to read extracts from political platforms?" "Might do very well." "Say, I believe that laughing does prolong life. I'll give you an instance. Some time ago, when 1 was in San An­ tonio, I saw two men engage in a quar­ rel. One of them, Zib Lock, drew a pistol and told Bob Foster that his time was come. Instead of becoming ex­ cited, Fostfr said 'Now wait a minute, Zib, er haw, haw. Don't you--ter he, he--recollect the time when we went over to see old Miller's daughters? Well, sir--haw, haw--I thought I would kill myself laughing,' and then he laughed uproariously. Zib, overcome by astonishment at this untimely mirth, lowered his pistol, and, quicker tliafr a bass striking a troll, Foster snatched the weapon and killed Zib. So, you see, this is an argument in favor of laughter, for it saved Foster's life." "Yes, but it killed the other fellow, for, don't you see, it enabled Foster to shoot him." "That's a fact. I expect, after all, it is a little dangerous. It's the way with those scientific writers, though. . Tliey never take up but one side of a ques- ion."--Arkansaw Traveler. Killed the Whole Family. A singular instance of the contagious­ ness of consumption is related by a French medical journal. A young man who had contracted bronchitis married healthy woman. Within a year he died of consumption. Not long afterward his widow's lungs were found to be fatally diseased, and their child speedily fol­ lowed them. One of their neighbors, a robust young woman, was suddenly attacked with the same disease. While she had called repeatedly at the house of the consumptive family she had never remained in the sick-room over night; but she had eaten chickens which had been killed on their farm. As it was reported that several of these fowls had died prematurely, the medical authori­ ties decided to* have other chickens killed and examined. It was then dis­ covered that the fowls had contracted consumption, their livers containing the bacili now recognized as a characteristic of the disease. These fowls had swal­ lowed the sputa of the infected family and contracted the disease; and the un­ lucky neighbor's daughter, who had eaten one of the fowl's livers, became a victim in her turn. This is one of the most remarkable stories ever vouched for by a medical journal.--Nqio York . T t i b t m e . ' 1 ' . " , j ' COLORED bows to match the stocking* ! are worn on slipper*. _ ^ , jHWTfWtWPi*, In OBrinany the cloeeof the harvest is cdobraiwdrbr the "Etttte^aokfeet," or hw.t thankBgiving. lt I* not a general feetbfci jike it* faerie*** *ela- five. & Se» ISngland each fiiwr is owner and master of the b& . of land from which, by the sweat of hi* brow, keeps the thorns and thistles, and thus all the- little proprietors may be united and centered like "a composite flower, and blossom out into one gen­ eral thanksgiving. But in Germany the land remains chiefly in large es­ tates, and the extent of these domains places the owners ao far asunder that itVould be difficult to unite them in one common idea. Each proprietor having many people under him--often hundreds--arranges the harvest festival as best suits his convenience. It is in reality a merry­ making for his retinue of servants. When the grain-field is ready to yield up its last load of treasure a cart is drawn into the yard of one of the peas­ ants, and the young people gather about it and trim it with wreaths, flowers, and leaf-festoons. To this are attached six or eight horses likewise decked with garlands. The cart is taken to the field, where the loading of it goes on more as sport than as work. When the last sheaf has been tossed up, a pole, surmounted by a gay wreath, is stuck,, in the load, and the fanciful but heavyJ laden vehicle rumbles and sways on its' way to the village, followed by an ever-growing crowd of women and ohildren. When the parsonage is reached the cart stops, the pastor comes forth with his little black skull-cap on, and a hush falls over the merriment, while the good man returns thanks for the bounty of the ^harvest, and craves a blessing upon its use. • Then the gay proces­ sion resumes |ts jollity, and its line of march toward its destination. The whole day, and often two, are given up to merry-making and feasting, for which many hands have been busy for days preparing the viands. One evening is devoted to dancing. Some large, airy barn is selected as a ball-room. The floor is swept, the walls, the hay­ mows, and the stalls of the cattle are profusely decorated with boughs of the linden and oak, relieved by bou­ quets and garlands of bright flowers. The girls bring forth the treasures of their wardrobe, and appear with bright 'kerchiefs fastened tastefully over their tightly-braided flaxen locks, or with an immense stiff black bow attached to the back of the head, as taste or custom dictate. Often a bodice is worn over a full, light waist, at)d these, with- the bright-colored short petticoats made of heavy woolen stuff, add greatly to the picturesqueness of the whole scene. The old village fiddler--for there seems always to have been one in every village since the time of the Nibelungen-- comes with his violin, and furnishes the music with a capacity for endurance which could have been evolved only by beer and sausage. One cannot rightly say that "the light fantastic toe" grows upon such broad, practical feet as go jumping over the barn floor. Their daily walk is over life's roughest paths, and that in wooden shoes; but there is a spontaneous grace to youth, wher­ ever found, and the enjoyment of the older ones, who have grown stiff in faithful service, seems not in the least marred by a sense of the lack of it. Often the servants from neighboring estates come as guests to the festivities. The sons from the castle leave their dignity for once, and are found turning the pretty peasant girl in the dance. The ladies, who usually are present as spectators, often have a dance or two with the overseer, who is almost always a person of some culture; but as he is not noble, to dance with him is a con­ descension for these dames, who roll their family "von" as a sweet morsel under their tongues. Schiller refers to the harvest festival in his "Song of the Bell."--New York Observer. Sam June's Daughter .̂ In speaking of parental duty Mr. JoneB said: "I have got girls in the bud now; in two or three years more they will be full blooming young ladies on the carpet. I don't know how your parents feel about it, but I am less con­ cerned about getting my daughters off than any fellow you ever saw. I will board them and take care of them as long as they are good girls, and if they never marry it's all right; but I will tell you what it is, I don't care how badly I wanted my daughters to marry, I would not push them out in certain circles of society. If you have a boy that wants a wife, and knew a girl just like your daughter in every way, would you want your son to marry her--a dancing, giddy. Godless, Christless girl, would you? Now, honor bright, would you? You say: No, Jones; I give it up. God knows I want my bov to marry a better girl than my wife raised. If you had a sweet, nice daughter, and a fellow had a fac simile of your boy, would you like to see her marry him? Let me say this: If I wanted to marry my daugh­ ters well I would try to have them taught how to bake bread, fry chicken, and do all manner of domestic duties so well that when persons came in our house they would say my wife was the best house-keeper they ever saw, when in fact it was our daughter's work. Then there will some first-class boy come here, 500 miles from home, and marry her. I went 500 miles to get a first-class wife from Kentucky, and I got her, too. I put you young men on notice. I told my wife thsi when any boys came to our house to ask them in the parlor and treat them like gentle­ men, and then go out and hunt up little Paul and Bob to come in and see them, but to tell the visitors that my daugh­ ters were up-stairs studying their lessons. Boys, if you want to see Paul and Bob just rack around."--Atlanta Constitution. A Problem. The coachmen pulls up at a railroad crossing, alights, and lowers the window of the carriage. "There, sor," lie says, "you Can put yer head out now." "Put my head out! What do.you mean?" , "Why, sor, the sign beyant there by the thrack says, 'Look out for the loco­ motive.'" "Why, you fool," testily exclaimed the o.ccupant of the carriage, "you aro the party who is to do the looking out." "I am! Well, how can I do that when Fan not inside ?"--Pittsburgh Dispatch. The Oaly Time It Didn't Work. "What a beautiful child! What an extremely handsome fellow S" says the gushing pastor to the lady of the house. "Yes, he is a handsome boy, I think." "Oh, indeed he is. He's the perfect image of his father--the perfect image. Don't you think so?" "Well, I don't know. I never saw his father. We adopted him."--San Francisco Chron- icle. , ' EVEBY man finds hi* level at Ja*t, and the wrapper of the banana has a good deal to do with it. who btiicrve* hot it. . hMUrM ̂Of a clock is prob­ ably regarded by the minute hand a* the "left-hand "THKU: is something 1 have dashed off," *aid the poet as he ] hie would-be sofc-in-law oft the d6oir»' stop. ---Bos ton Courier. "NERVE food" is advertised. This is the kind of food the man eats who wants to occupy two seats in a crowded railroad car.--Boston Courier. 1 SCENE in Mrs. Newlyrich'* library. Visitor (exploring book-case) --Have you read your Bunyan's Progress. Mrs. Newlyrich--Land sake! have they got my feet into the papers?--Life. •; THIKOS one would rather leave n&» said: She---And you aro really bettor, professor, since you came to live at Hemstead? He--Oh, yes, a different man altogether. She--How pleased your friends will be! "SHE did wrong to look hack; did#*! she, Bessie?" "Yes, mamma." "And what do you think Lot thought when he saw his poor wife - turned into a pillar of salt." "I don't know, mamma, I'spect he wondered where he could get a fresh one." "THIS paper tells of a place out West' here water is sold for 50 cents a ucket," remarked Jones. "Ah," re­ turned Smith, "it'a only when we read of such things that we appreciate our own advantages. With water at GO cents a bucket, what must be the prieo of beer." "YES, the ballet is very fine, but Fd like to take those bald-headed men in the front row out to Montana with mer" "What for?" "On a speculation. They pay a premium on baldness out there. "I didn't know that" "Oh, ves; there's quite a bounty for bear scalps."--Vkfc cago Ledger. , » THE LEVER'S COMPLIMENT. , * called, but Jennie was from home, " -And her room they let htm seat #"*A fitting nest it i* for snch ..A pretty bird," quoth h«. . ; - iJA fitting neat for ftnch a bird " 5 ~ SP® again quoth he, Jennie's room ain't half ast**&r _ As ber company Is to me.* " --Boetap Budqet. "You are a comical fellow," remarked a Texas gentleman to a newly-married friend. "In what respect?" "You might have married the pretty young daughter, but you went and married her ugly old mother." "Strategy, my boy. Don't you see how I headed her oft from being my mother-in-law. ?" A LITTLE boy who had lost a pet sheep through death was somewhat con­ soled on visiting a cemetery one Sun­ day. "Mamma," he said, as ho dis­ covered a number of marble figures of lambs on the tombstones, UI guess I ain't the only one that's lost a sheep. There seems to be lots of them buried here."--Puck. BAGLEY--Say no more, Aurelia, I forbid the match. Young Spriggs may be a gentleman, but he is poor. Aure­ lia--But he is one of the heirs to the great Hogg estate of $64,000- 000. Bagley--Nothing of the sort, girl. He is deceiving thee. Aurelia-- Why, pa, I'm sure he told me that he is one of the lawyers engaged to defend the will.--Philadelphia Call. "YOUR actions are simply disgraceful, John Henry!" exclaimed Mrs. Henry at breakfast the morning aftej John'» re­ turn from the club. "If you do not like my actions, Mrs.u Henry," replied he, "the divorce courts are open to yon." "I shall not need to take that method to show my disapproval while there is a poker left in the house," was the meaning reply. And then there was deep silence. A MAN who was traveling along a country road in Arkansaw was over­ taken by a gaunt fellow who asked: "How fur yer goin' on this road?" "About two miles." "Wall, I tell yer what I wush yer'd do. When yer get ter Dr. Gillum's--big white house on the right--stop an' tell him that Bill Henley's wife is powerful sick an' want* him right now." "I'll do so. Are you Mr. Henley?" "Yes, sir." "It's for­ tunate that you saw, me for instead of going all the way to the doctor's you can now go back and stay with your wife." "Yes, but you see I wantergo to the circus. That's the reason I can't go all the way to the dock's. They tell me that they've got ten monkeys an' or b'ar. WalC here's whar I turn a£ Don't furgit ter tell the dock."--ArkGRr saw Traveler. A Walk Through Rotterdam. The whole of the city is intersected by canals, broad, long, and deep, and capable of accommodating vessels of heavy tonnage. These canals divide, the city into so many islands, united bj draw-bridges, swivel-bridges, turning- bridges, and a few stone bridges. It is curious to walk through Rotterdam and find everwhere these canals, with streets on either side, and trees along the side of almost every street, and more curious still to find that you can never get away from the shipping. In the very heart of the city large ships are discharging their cargoes; the masts of the ships are seen among the houses, above the tr^ea, beside the churches, and all alorg the center of the main thoroughfare*. Many of these ships are built expressly for the Rhine and Holland; they-atfr single-masted, broad, stout, and . all highly colored and ornamented. The prevailing style is bright green for the hull, with red or white stripes, gilded poop,svamished or highly polished decks and masts, while buckets, hatchets, barrels, and other things, are usually painted a bright red, with white or green stripes. The cabins are models of cleanliness and comfort, with brightly polished windows, snow-white muslin curtains and pets of flowers. Beside the novelty of finding "a fleet imprisoned in the heart of the city," there are many things to attract the attention in. the streets of Rotterdam. The houses have pointed facades; are of all shades . of brick, from the darkest of red to the pinkest of pink; whitewashed stone or wood ornaments the facade, the windows and doors are bordered with broad white stripes, the window-sills are gen­ erally full of flowers; the windows are provided with little mirrors, by means of which the inmates can sec all that takes place up or down the street with­ out being themselves seen; brass plates and brass knobs in a high state of polish adorn . the doors, by tlie side of which bird-csges frequently hong. It is a curious fact that nearly all the hoqaes are a little out of the upright, and lean more or less, while sometimes in a street all the houses will lean »%ktly in one direction. / AN old lady says she hears every < of civil engineers, and wonders if is no one to say a civil word for ductors. ' No SOUL is desolate as lor there is a human being for whom/ feel trust and Eliot, s • : • ... .i«Xi ..i >, \lft <A. * .A •hafpv'vifs jMtfatMaS&bwinsafcEfi*.MiaraSi ?' ,,'v v:*l