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V,- ,f "( , < ~ ^ W y <• „ T ' ""' : "mik mm Mi * ^ -%:^W'>vv - rf " • .-<V^ " '""* ~ u*f . . . -^ ; ,i-j 'jf.'^f-' } >* .:*> <" ;»«»•-'-j.^V5, '«*i «,-*v„n." nlcr J. VAN SLYKE, EM* art FUMMmt. McHENRY, ILLINOIS, A SMAIX river of true ink, with which letters have been written, is one of the natural curiosities of Algeria. It is formed by tbe union of tw.o rivulets, •one of which is very strongly impreg­ nated with iron, while the other has im- Wbed gallic acid from a peat marsh through which it passes. : MICHAEL DAVITT is thus at Cincinnati reporter: "He is a man ot massive frame, and a grand head towers above the broad shoulders. The forehead, broad and full, overtdps a pair of searching, cold-black eyes, while the lower portion of the face is covered by a closely-trimmed black beard." ' A BIBD-CAGE suddenly fellto the flow itt a house at Petaluma, CaL, a couple of weeks ago, in consequence of the breaking of a line that was being fas tened up by Mrs. Cora Woodman, a -visitor from San Francisco. She was shocked into unconsciousness by this slight accident, and remained insensible twelve hours. Since then, though un­ derstanding all that goes on about her, she has been unable to utter a word. R MANY of the Flatheadson their reser- T»tion, in Northwest Montana, says a "Writer in the St. Louis Globe-Demo­ crat, "are given to dudish ways. For instance, they wear good clothes, own fast steppers, possess the showiest kind of blankets, and carry plenty of silver. Some of them own one or more race borses, and do nothing else for a living except gamble with each other on the result of a race, but principally with outsiders." ONE of the most successful counter­ feiters of the past decade has just been arrested in New England. The pris­ oner is a woman 40 years of age, and the Transcript says she melted the metal and made her own casts of toler­ ably well-refined bogus silver. She had put out thousands of dollars with­ out discovery, when a bogus quarter which she attempted to pass on a re­ porter caused her downfall. If she over gets out of prison she will hate newspapers. "OLEQUA" writes to the Cowlitz (Montana) Advocate the following sig­ nificant letter: "My wife has been gone sway on the jury four days. I have not had a square meal since she left. My children are crying for bread, and every­ thing goes wrong. I am hungry, angry, snd all out of sorts in every respect. I write this to warn the people that who- over advocates woman's rights in my presence again must be a very large man, and if ever the Sheriff comes after my wife again he had better bring a posse with him, for my shotgun is loaded and I will not hesitate to use it." Vf - i * *v'\v WHEN Senator Jones, of Florida, was elected to the United States Senate in 1876 he was a member of the Legisla­ ture and voted for himself. The funny part of the business is that his vote was necessary Jo effect the election, and he thus practically elected himself. When Jones saw that his vote was necessary to a choice he drew himself up to his full height, and, looking severely, at the presiding officer, saidf" "In the .name and by the command of the 3,000 Dem­ ocrats of Escambia County I cast my vote for Charles W. Jones." The Assembly burst into uproarious laugh­ ter and applause. A VERT good story is told of two Boston business men who had a dis­ pute about the shortest way of return­ ing home from the market. Finally one of them said to the other: "Well, you go your way and 1 will go mine and we will see who will reach the cor­ ner of the street where we live first, but mind you don't run." One of them arrived at the place proposed slightly blown, and the other came up in a few minutes later, panting for breath, and exclaiming: "You took to your heels, you scoundrel!" "Oh, no, I didn't," was the reply. "Yes, you did," was the answer, "for I ran like the old scratch myself." ' A PRACTICAL joke was played one night recently upon a South Chester (Pa.) man and one or two others who were taken to Felton's woods for that purpose. While four of the party were occupied in a tree represented by the knowing ones to contain honey, a num­ ber of others armed with pistols and guns, who were secreted in the woods, began to shoot. One of those in the tree fell and pretended "that he was shot, while the others scampered away badly frightened. One of them was so badly scared that he fainted, and his companions had to carry him all the way to a South Chester drug store, where restoratives Were) applied. The joke was thus turned upon them. A DAYTON (Ohio) man has had A stroke of paralysis which will probably result in death. The misfortune all comes from a practical joke. Last spring the workmen in a shop in which lie was at one time employed stretched an almost invisible thread or wire across a frequented way in the shop for the fun of checking up suddenly those who did not see it, and enjoying their sur­ prise and discomfiture. He, among others, was a victim of this practical joke, though he suffered more than all others. The thread of wire struck him Tight in the middle of the eyes, and so -injured one ot them that he lost the «ight of it entirely. The other one was also , seriously affected. The result has been daily agony or al­ most sightless misery ever since then, with the end of it all in death now probably near at hand. MEN of pluck and ability can find the •front in the West. Take the case of .Samuel W. Allerton, the rich Chicago pork packet. Onlv a few yean ago he settled in Fulton County, Illinois, as a farm hand. He went to work for $20 a month and his board for a rich old farmer named Thompson. Through rigid economy he managed to save a few dollars, which he invested in pigs. Each year they increased in number, and he finally sold them in Chicago, realizing quite a handsome sum. He then engaged in hog raising in a small way, and shortly afterward married the oldest daughter of Farmer Thompson, his employer. He received consider­ able property with her, and that en­ abled him to go quite extensively into hog raising. He made money rapidly, and the result was he started a slaughter-house in Chicago, which has now grown to be one of the greatest institutions of its kind in the world. CONCERNING Victoria, Australia, a writer in the London Lancet says: "As a rising colony its importance cannot be exaggerated, and such statistics as are at our disposal indicate that it is also an exceptionally healthy colony. The illustrated handbook to Victoria, prepared for the Exhibition, states that in 1884 the marriage rate equalled 7.63 per 1,000, the birth rate 30.49, and the death rate 14.27. This is un­ doubtedly a remarkably low death rate, but it cannot be compared with that of Europe, as the proportion of children in Victoria is much smaller. The fact that there is no winter, so to speak, in Victoria, must further contribute to the health of the population. Cattle are able to live in the field all the year round, though no sort of shelter is pro­ vided, and such climatic conditions must help to render physical existence easy. Winter is merely the more rainy season of the year, and snow is un­ known." y "I SHALL never forget," said Gen. Sheridan,- to a Washington correspond­ ent, "the ten days spent in President Arthur's society during our trip to the Yellowstone Park about three years ago. You may remember, perhaps, that President Arthur went to Florida in the early spring of 1883 for a brief sea­ son of recreation and rest. He returned no better than he went. It was then I proposed the trip to the Yellowstone. I dwelt enthusiastically upon the benefit he would receive from the open-air exercise and the delightful hunting and fishing with which that region abounded. He accepted the invisation at once. Our party, consisting of Gen. Arthur, Secretary of War Lincoln, Senator Vest, Gen. Anson Stager, Gov. John Schuyler Crossby, Col. Micluel Sheri­ dan, Col. Gregory, Capt. Clarke, and myself, started from Chicago on the first day of the following August. I might say, en passant, that two of these gentlemen--Gen. Stager and Capt. Clarke--have since died. Gen. Arthur's death adds another to the list within the brief period of three years. We left the Union Pacific Bailway at Rock Creek Station, Wyoming. The first day we traveled 110 niles across the country, which you must admit was rather quick work for a party of men unused to such exercise. The next day, after a forty-mile trip, we reached Fort Washakie, where we spent two days. The news of our arrival spread among the Indians on the different reservations thereabouts, many of whom came into camp to see the 'Great Father,' the tern|i by which all the presidents are designated. It is not necessary to enter into the details of the trip. The park was not so much our objective point aS it was that we were afforded an opportunity for journeying across the intervening coun­ try. Our movements were regulated by a sort of military precision. For example, we arose regularly at 5, breakfasted at half-past, and at 6 were in the saddle. We would ride until afternoon, and then, camping beside some stream spend the remainder of the day in hunting and fishing. The party numbered several good story-tellers. Vest was especially happy in this role, and Gen. Stager made a good second. Occasionally the President contributed something in this line, but as a rule he preferred hearing the others talk. We traveled probably six hundred miles in all. The President proved an agreeable companion; exceptionally so. He was always the gentleman under all circum­ stances. For the time being he was simply plain Chester A. Arthur. The President we appeared to have left be­ hind in Wasnington." A Woinans' Courage. With what a store of sea going lore Captain Wallace has enlivened the long evenings on deck, or when our entire party sat tea drinking in his red vel- veted snuggery. Stories of adventure, of strange travels in all the foreign lands; and last night he told us some­ thing about a sister-in-law of his, that thrilled us as nothing else has done. The young English girl married a sea captain and went in his sailing vessel with her husband, visiting many coun­ tries with him. On her Srst trip, when she was yet a young bride, there was a mutiny, and her husband was wounded or knocked senseless in his cabin. The sailors were about to spring down the companion-way into the cabin, when the young woman barred the way, pistol in hand, and promised to shoot the first man who moved toward her. She held them thus at bay till wrath burned out, and the mutiny was at an end. On the next voyage they were ship­ wrecked, and this brave-hearted girl, with her young baby, was lashed in the rigging, and remained there for several days before they were rescued. They had nothing to eat, and the mother's natural food for her child was ex­ hausted. By some means a can of meat was fished up from the ship, and the child fed on this until it was all gone, and the little one about to starve. But the mother put her teeth into her hand, between the thumb and bit a gash into her own flesh, from which the blood flowed. The child sucked this, and that night the almost dying crew and the brave sailor-wife were resetted,-- New Orleans Picayune. STRIKE a man, use him with violence, and the memory of that blow, be it in act or word, will engender feelings of hatred in him against vouso long as his life lasts. "V OKIE WOXAXTS HCSBAKD. BT OAHLOTTA PEBHT. AS IT WAS TO BB. k-'j- - I Tboagh Und nd tea lay wide betwailfc H® ww coming, my own irne mate; Ha w*s coming to conquer fat*; Tbe King *u coming to crown bis Qtota, Tall lhoilld b« be, with tngtl Mr. With a brow as white m the nm.bla gleeju That flMbW ittwrt tbe sculptor's dream, With waving muses of coal-b>ack hair. Hit love should atone--O mighty love!-*. For every lack that my life could kMtr; In every wind that could ever blow / A safeguard bis strong arm should prove. He should love the boots that I loved the best, Tiie songs I sang should bis soul inspire With a holy joy, and the poet's fire , Should born and glow in his manly bMMft. Ha should scale tbe bights of philosophy. Science, and art; be should wisely tMioh My flattering lips a diviner speech. Such was the man that tbe King should bei AS IT IS. He's short and fat--O miserable avowal I-- His brow is high as any brow in town-- Ko high it reaches to tiie very crown. His hair--alas 1 he combs it with a towel. His voice it is the sharpest of sharp trebles, With little unexpected flare between; His somewhat palish eyes are always seen Behind the very best Brazilian pebbles, He's in tbe dry-goods line; at trade's quotations Most apt is he; beside the evening hearth He tells the price of wool, what cotton's worth. And cheers me with tbe market'* fluctuations. Ho does not Bit by mo in summer -weather And read sweet poetry in dulcet tones That thrill mo to the marrow of my bones; Xor do we sit in wintry tves together, • v And. bidding cold and snow a glad defiance, ' Discuss the fast inw book, the latest star;" Hand clasp in hand we do not roam afar Along ti«o Ilowery fields of art or science. Instead, we set in solemn tryst and wonder How best to bring up John and Julia, and (This is not just exactly as I planned) O'er tach month's household bills we tit aad ponder. And yet I like bis ways. I think hia stature Quite perfect; in his rnthfr florid faea I read the outward signs of inward grace. Just as I should; and, such is woman nature, I've oven grown to think that eyes look better Behind a convex lens, and very dear Is his bald head to tue (my own true sphere) t I've learned to take the spirit for tbe letter. For, after all, so much is justly duo him; His heart is strong and true, and be loves me; And. though a humble ury-goods man i* he, Ko King on Earth can hold a candle to l<i» --New York Sun. Vt WILL M. MUHltAY. Itwae a bad place for a sick man. The room was large, too large for any attempt at cosiness or simgness to be successful, and the surroundings were most inappro­ priate. Here lay a figure, grotesque in its drapery, carelessly flung on to get the gar­ ments out of the waj; there an easel, with a white sheet thrown over the unfinished picture upon it, and looking weird and ghostlike when the light was dim; in cor­ ners, piles of pictures, framed and un- frnmed, sketches, portfolios, drawing- boards--all the surroundings of nn artist-- scattered about, pushed aside, heaped on chairs or tables; but all bearing the unmis­ takable air of lonR neglect. In one corner, half-screened, a cot bed; beside it, a small table and a chair. Upon the bed Frank Mason, artist, sleeping; on the chair Tom Gwynne, artist, wakeful, and watching. And at any time, day or night, for ten days previous, the same might have been seen, excepting that the invalid had not slept, but tossed and raved in wildest de­ lirium. The time was summer--early June --the hour between sunset and dark. Everything that could be open was opeu, and the hum of the city streets came, softened and subdued, up to the fourth story of the tall house, the studio of Frank Ma-on, artist. The watcher, weary with his long strain of nursing, was wondering, drowsily, if he might venture te lie down for a nap, when tUe invalid opened a pair of large, mourn­ ful, dark eyes, and looked into his face. And Tom's heart gave a quick, strong throb of delight as he recognized the re­ turn of reason in the wasted face and questioning expression. "How long have I been ill?" the faint voice asked. "Only ten days; and you will do famously now," was Tom's reply, in a cheery tone; "only you must not talk, and .you must take this," holding? a tiny glass to Frank's lips as he tenderly lifted his head. "Thanks," drinking obediently the far from tempting mixture. "IT--have I talked much?" "A great deal of nonsense. Nobody pays any attention to fever fanoies, old fellow; so don't worry about that." "Did any one hear me but you?" "No one else, unless the doctor caught & few words. Now don't look so troubled. Yon are too weak to talk now." "Did I rave about him--my father?" The last two words came "in a choked, gasping whisper, and on the pale face the perspiration started in heavy drops. "Dear old boy," Tom said, caressingly, while, tenderly as a woman, he wiped the clammy moisture from his friend's face, "you must not talk of it now. You need rest, sleep; and this agitation is very bad for you. What you said is as if it were never spoken." "A true friend!" Frank murmured; "a good friend for nearly three years, and I deceiving him all the time! Why do you not shrink away, as every friend did when inv father was hanged?--hanged for mur­ der!" And his voice grew thick and hoarse. "My father! my dear father! You must listen! I must tell yon!" he said, as Tom vainly urged quiet. "It was one mad fit of anger, not intentional murder!" And he shivered at the word. "Bat it was a fatal blow he struck--only one blow--and his friend, the friend he had loved and trusted, and who was false to him, fell, striking: his head upon the corner of a book-case. Even <then my father might have denied the blow, /or not one knew of the quarrel, the first, the last they ever had; but he pave himself up. And we were not popular in Millburn, , while the murdered man was the idol of the place. So the jury convicted the man who made no defense * "Frank! Frank, dear old fellow! Stop, I beg of you! You are killing yourself!" Tom pleaded. "I gathered it all from your fever talk, and you do not need to tell ine." But the sick man never heeded him. "My mother would not leave Millburn, and we endured all man can endure of scorn, contempt, dislike for two weary years, while her heart broke slowly, till she died. Did I rave of Laura?" "Hush! bush, now! I have told you that all you said is already forgotten." "We were engaged to be married. Ah, how I loved her! I would have released her, but I had no chance to speak or write. On the day my father was arrested, her uncle took her awav. They said in the village be went abroad. I do not know. In my misery I was half mad. and my mother needed me day and night. Before I sought her she was gone. When my mother died, I came here to try to forget my wretchedness in my art. But I prayec. to die. Shall I die now?" "No!"--and Tom's voice was clear and firm. "You must live. Live to prove that a man can make or mar his life only by his own acts. You are already known as nn artist, and you will live to be famous." "A true friend! A good friendi" Frank »aid again. And then, utterly weary, and yet in some mysterious way quieted bv his confession, he slept. > The dkrknesF had gathered in the room, while he had been speaking; and, when he slept, Tom Gwvnne rose softly and lighted the lnr^e lamp upon the center-table, care­ fully screening the rays from the corner where the invalid lay. "A true friend! A good friend!" as Frank had called him. he felt 110 shrinking from his comrade. Long before he had been sure there was some sad secret in Frank Mason's life, some sorrow too deep for confidence. There was no sign of poverty. On the contrary, the young artist was lavish In his expenditure, and more than generous when his sympathies were aroused. But it had been groping in the dark to try to fathom his secret, and Tom was far loo loyal/to attempt to surprise it. Enough for htm that they could meet In true fel­ lowship as artists and friends. Since Frank's sudden, dangerous illnesii, however, a new possibility had occurred to his friend, and. as he watched him, as­ sumed an air of probability that troubled him deeply. He had wondered often that his friend would seek no companions, resolutely refused all attempts to introduce him to society, and led the life of a recluse, their own friendship being the result of a chance meeting and Tom's own persistent advances. Seen in the light of Frank's disclosures, it was very easy to understand this, and the promise he had exacted that Tout woald never mention his name to his friends. But as he mused, looking often to see if his patient's rest was undisturbed, Tom Gwynne recalled another face that had for nearly a year been to him a hope, an in­ spiration. He had met Miss Lorimer in society, and knew her as inn heiress, the niece of Mrs. Hughes, one of the leaders of fashionable circles. She was a tall, fair woman, of twenty-live or six, who bore the impress of sorrow upon her face as surely as did the man sleeping upon the cot bed. Gentle and gracious, brilliant in con­ versation, Miss Lorimer seemed to have left girlhood as far behind her as a woman of 50. Quietly dignified, always dressed in the black, gray, and white of light mourning, she WHS to Tom the living ideal Of pure, stately womanhood; something to Worship reverently, and yet to love with a tenderness born of strong devotion. He loved her hopelessly. Never had one took from her large bine eyes given him token that she even guessed his love, and yet he had taken her into his heart and enshrined her there for the worship of his life. And set strangely apart from his every­ day world, his love had l>een carefully guarded, so sacredly secret that no word of it had ever escaped his lips. And now the delirious raving of his friend rang again in his ears. "Laura! Laura Lorimer, my own love! One word! one look of farewell! My darling! My Laura!" Over and over the name came to the fevered lips that had so long starved for its utterance, and Tom listened and won­ dered, gathering strand after stiand of the taad story together, until he held the whole tangled skein in his brain. A voice, carefully lowered, roused him to the consciousness of the doctor's entrance. "Sleeping! That is well! Has he been awakeV" "Yes! And fully conscious.* "Very weak," touching the sick man's {raise with light, practiced fingers, and istening to the'faint brealhlitg; "has he no relatives?" "I know of none." "He will need great care now. It is a pity he has no wife or mother. Women are best in a sick-room, and you mast be worn out." "Not quite that; but I may have a ntttie to help me, if he is willing." "It would be best." And the doctor tip-toed out of the room, leaving Tom to his troubled meditation. He rose at last, gave himself a shake, and then, opening a desk, said, half aloud, "She could never care for me!" sighing heavily as the words passed his lips. A brief note was written, directed, and placed upon the table, and then, lowering the light, Tom stretched himself upon a lounge close beside the cot bed, and sleep reigned in the studio until a late hour the next morning, nurse and patient drawing in new strength after the long, exhausting days they had passed. It was Tom who wakened first, just as the woman who "tidied up" and "did for gentlemen" gener­ ally entered the room and undertook to watch the patient while Tom went to his own rooms for bath and breakfast. It was not long before he returned, having dis­ patched his .brief note, refreshed himself, and prepared his heart and brain for the trials of the day by a prayer that was as simple a petition as ever passed the lips of a child at its mother's knee. Still the patient slept. Twice he v*as tenderly lifted, and nourishment placed at his lips, but he drank mectanically, mur­ mured a very drowsy thanks, and slept on. Noon came, a hot, breathless noon, such as London often feels in early summer, and Tom sat fanning his patient, listening ever for some coming footsteps in tbe hall. The doctor paid his visit, shook his head doubt­ fully, and went away, and no one came above the thirl floor until the clock chimed half-past twelve, when a soft rustle swept across the hall, and there, at the Opened door, stood a tall figure in a dress of thin gray, with a bonnet of black lace upon the wealth of golden hair, worn in waving bands. Tom rose at once, no token of his fast throbbing heart visible in his qniet greeting. "How can I ever thank you?" So she greeted him, with outstretched hsnds, and a light in her eye* JheJhriMrer b e f o r e s e e n t h e r e . " ' T ^ T s l "You know all?" 1 Mill "All that Frank can toll mS." "He could not tell you how I came back to seek him after my uncle died. I could not come before, for my uncie was old and sick, and I obeyed him as I would my father. I thought Frank would under­ stand and trust me." "But he would never ask you to 6hare a life blighted and shadowed as his, so I dared to write to you." "God bless you for tbe thought!" ste answered. "You are a true friend." Softly she crossed the room and stood by the cot bed, looking with grave, earnest eyes into the pale face; but Tom saw that the old shadow was gone from her face, and there was 110 sorrow in the tender curves of her beautiful lips. The patient opened his eyes suddenly. There was no start, no exclamation, only a rapturous look of recognition, and then Tom stole away closing the door after him, and took refuge in his own den. Vet it was Tom who, a few weeks later, gave the bride away at his friend Frank's wedding; Tom who was here, there, bverywhere, the bridegroom's right hand. As the steamer for Madeira slowly left the wharf, Tom's face and Tom's waving hat Were the last objects upon which the eyes of the young couple rested as they started upon their wedding tour. It was a pity be could not hear them, as he turned sadiy away, saying to each other, "A true friend!" The Stars and Stripes. The first true Union Hag was hoisted over the American camp at Boston, January 2, 1776. It was composed of thirteen stripes, with the British "union" in one corner. In May or June, 1777, a committee that had been ap­ pointed by the Continental Congress ' called at the house of a Mrs. Iioss, in Arch street, Philadelphia, with a design for a flag--thirteen red and white stripes, alternately with thirteen six- pointed stars--and requested her to .make the ilag. She suggested that the stars would be more symmetrical if made with five points, and folded a sheet of paper and produced the pattern by a single cut. Tin's was approved, aud she finished the flag the next day. Mrs. Boss was given the position of manufacturer of flags for the Govern­ ment, which descended to her children. In 1794 Congress ordered that the flag should consist of fifteen stripes, alter­ nate red and white, and fifteen stars, white on a blue field. There was then fifteen States. The stars and stripes were equal, and a stripe and a star were added with the advent of each new State. In 1818. as the States increased and the flag tlxreatened to become too large, the stripes were reduced to thirteen, representing the original Union, and the stars were made equal to the number of ; States. No change has since been made, except to add a star when a new State is admitted. A SIS DOTOflO EXECUTION. ttriUlaj Seen* at the Death ofs Murderer. [New York Times. J Senor Blanco, a man noted for his' desperate character, had in Dajabon brutally and in a most cowardly man­ ner murdered an inoffensive person for some fancied slight. The murderer es­ caped iuto the Bwamp at El Cupey, but the Governor, with commendable promptitude, exerted himself with great vigor, and after a search of ten days one of the searching parties sent out by him ran across the fellow in a part of the swamp inhabited only by alli­ gators, and, tying him up, brought hitn back. He was tried for the mnrder and sentenced to death. San Domingo, more advanced than America, doesn't use the rope to execute its criminals, but shoots them, and a part of the public plaza is set apart for that un­ pleasant ceremony. The criminal is brought out, and, placed with his back to a low brick wall built for the pur­ pose of stopping bullets, receives his leaden death. At the appointed time Blanco--a magnificent specimen of a man, **11, powerful, aud with all the courage of desperation--was taken from his place of confinement in the little jail and pre­ pared to be marched out to his fate. The heavy irons which manacled his wrists and ankles were removed, and he was allowed to make his last toilet. This he did, tightening his collar a little and touching up tho set of his wristbands, and then, with as firm a step and as unfaltering an air as if he had been going to receive the highest honor, he stepped into his place be­ tween two armed soldiers, and waited quietly until with measured steps the rest of the rifled guard--twenty-five in number--closed in upon all sides of him. Obeying the order to "march" with as much military precision as those who guarded him, the condemned mur­ derer started to his death. The march was straight through the heart of the town, the streets crowded with people who were going to see him die, and Blanco glanced at them with a palpable sneer, disfiguring his handsome mouth. His courageous bearing impressed even those people, accustomed as they are to scenes of the kind, and, with a won­ derful forbearance, they did not throw stones at him or even attempt to de­ ride him. Arrived at the plaza, where the Governor and his staff, all in full uniform, and a crowd of people were waiting for them, the guard and their prisoner halted. They stood at just the right distance from the fatal spot upon which Blanco was to stand, and® which was already marked by the grisly-black coffin which was so soon to receive its burden. At a movement from the Captain, Blanco stepped firmly forward, and in long strides walked up to his position, and, stopping, turned around and faced his executioners. There was a pause, broken by the clear voice of the murderer asking for permission to give the word to fire. The request was so unusual that the Cap­ tain was for a moment nonplused, but at a sign from the Governor he simply bowed his assent, and Blanco, ap­ parently satisfied, began calmly to take off his coat. This being accomplished, he slowly opened his shirt-front, and, baring his protruding breast, braced himself to meet his death-blow. There was a rattle of muskets as the file, at a sharp command of their officer, brought their pieces to "aim," and thero was another deadly pause as the men waited for the doomed to give the word to fire. It was again broken by Blanco's (clear voice: "Shoot at the breast of a man. Fire!" The blast which rang out from those twenty-five deadly Weapons was deafening. Through the cloud of smoke I saw Bianoo. For a fcecond after the discharge ho stood {jerfectlv still, not a quiver distorting lis placid features. His arms hung loosely down at his sides, and his hands were tightly clinched. Then, without any bending of the knees, he fell forward on his face. As he did so his arms--the hands unclinching as he fell--rose slowly above his head, and, reaching the ground, his fingers buried themselves in the soft, grassy earth. For more than ten seconds did he re­ main in that -position, when, with the last convulsive energy of life, and by a movement which no athlete could re­ peat, he sprang straight upon his feet, his hands tearing away little bunches of earth adhered to grass as he rose. Glaring at his executioners with a look of hatred that shall never be effaced from my memory of this scene, he, with a quick movement, raised his two hands and flung with wonderful power the dirt straight at the heads of the soldiers in front of him. Before the earthy missiles had reached their desti­ nation Blanco sank down upon and across Ids coffin and was dead. A Qneer Pair of Smiths. The difficulty of meeting the dietetic requirements of certain pets reminds me of another pair of lizards that in turn inhabited the bell-glass. These were brought from Brazil, and intro­ duced to me by the name of Taraquira Smith. An i or two should terminate and dignify the latter name, to com­ memorate the particular Smith who be­ stowed it on Taraquira; but Smith is simple and practical; and the Taraquira Smiths was the name of my two little Brazilian lizards. The smaller one measured about eight inches from the tip of his snout to the end of his slender tail; the larger one was ten or more inches in length. They are, how­ ever, less agreeable to handle than the previous pets, their tails being armed with finely-pointed sharp scales in whorls. The lizards seem to know how to use this long tail protectively, hav­ ing acquired a habit of retrogression, and, when held, of backing out of the hand, as if with the intention of prick­ ing or inconveniencing you with these sharp spines, which are thus converted into weapons of defence. When per­ sistently held or detained, the pricking effect caused by this backward motion is by no means agreeable. For food, they were provided with a supply of peculiar kind of cockroach which in­ fested the reptile house at the Zoolog­ ical Gardens of London, near which I happened to reside; but my two little foreigners persistently declined them and other equally tempting food. In­ deed, the poor little Smiths were in such a feeble condition from exposure to cold during their transfer from the ship to their glass home that the small­ est one soon died.--Chambers' Jour­ nal. Don't Ask Too Much of tiie Memory. "I always carry a good denl of my business in my head, and avoid the use of books as much as possible," said a prominent business man to an acquain­ tance. "Then let me tell yon it is a 1 ad habit," replied the other; "you had better take warning by the condition of the old gentleman who once had the largest news depot in the city and car­ ried his business in his head, as yon say. To-day ho is in the insane asylum as the result of too great a strain upon hit menial energies. That practice may do while you are young, healthy, and full of intellectual vigor, but nature will de­ mand big interest on the investment when you have advanced in years."-- Buffalo Courier. Doffing the Hat. All Jewish congregations worship with their heads covered. So do the Quakers, although St. Paul's injunctions on the matter are clearly condemnatory of tbe practice. The Puritans of the Common­ wealth would seem to have kept their hats on, whether preaching or being preached to, since Pepys notes hearing a simple clergyman exclaiming against men wearing their hats in the church, and a year afterward (1662) writes, "To the French church in the Savoy, and where they have the common prayer book read in French, and which I never saw before, the minister do preach with his hat off, I suppose in further con­ formity with our church." William III. rather scandalized his church-going subjects by following Dutch customs, and keeping his head covered in church; and. when it did please him to doff his ponderous hat during the service, he invariably donned it as the preacher mounted the pulpit stairs. When Bossuet, at the age of 14, treated the gay fellows of the Hotel de liambouillet to a midnight sermon, Voltaire sat it out with his hat on, but, uncovering it when the" boy-preacher had finished, bowed low before hint, saying, "Sir, I never heard a man preach at once so early and so late." As a token of respect, uncovering the head is one of the oldest of courtesies. Lamenting the decay of respect to age, Clarendon tells us that in his young days he never kept his hat on his head before his elders except at dinner. A curious exception, that, to modern notions of politeness; but it was the custom to sit covered at meals down to the beginning of the eight­ eenth century. Sir John Finett, deputy master of the ceremonies at the court of King James I., was much puzzled as to whether the Prince of Wales should sit covered or not at dinner in the presence of the sovereign, when a foreign am­ bassador was one of the guests, since the latter, as the representative of a king, was not expected to veil his bon­ net. Giving James a hint of his diffi­ culty, his Majesty disposed of it, when the time came, by uncovering his head for a little while--an example all pres­ ent were bound to follow--and then, putting on his hat again, requested the prince and the ambassador to do like­ wise. "Hats need not be raised here." So, it is said, runs a notice in one oi Nuremberg's streets. "Hats must be raised here," should have been in­ scribed on the Kremlin gateway, where a government officer used to stand to compel passers-by to remove thfeir hats, because under that gate the retreating army of Napoleon withdrew from Mos­ cow. Whether the regulation is in foroe at this day is more than we know. --Hatters' Gazette. How to Button Tour Collar. "I suppose you will be indignant when I tell you that in all your life you have not yet learned to fasten your oollar properly," said a clerk in a Smithfield ptreet gents' furnishing store. "Why, what's the matter with it? Tho clerk's features lighted up with a quiet smile of superiority- as he re­ plied: "There is nothing the matter with it as far as appearance goes. But, tell me, do you not find it rather a trouble some matter to button your collar in the morning?" "Well, ves; these stand-up-all-round collars are awkward tilings to handle anyhow." "Exactly. And you button the left side first so that the mJitijî laps over?" " ' "Yes." •' "And yon button the left ski* tarith the right hand, and the right side with the left hand afterward?" "Yes." "And when, after wrestling for while with the left side, you get it fastened you tackle the right side with the left hand--much the weaker hand of the two, unless you are left-handed and you have a terrible time that makes you perspire all over and use profane language, unless you nre a very good man, eh?" "You hit the troth very nearly, I am afraid." "Of course. I know how it goes. Now if you will only button your collar the other day you will have your right hand in reserve to do the hardest work, and your collar will go on ever so much easier, especially if you put your tongue to the button-hole first and soften the starch a little. You need not feel ashamed be cause you do not know all this, because 1 notice nine well-dressed men out of every ten have their collars on the wrong way. The remedy for the trouble is very simple, but very few people think of it until they are shown."-- Pittsburgh Penny Press. For Office Circulation. "I heard from Radbv to-day," said one newspaper man to another. "He's just started a weekly paper in New York. There's a mint of money in it, too." "I don't see why you are so Certain of that," said the other. "Kadby is a bright fellow, but it takes something more than mere brains to make a weekly paper succeed in New York. What makes you think this one is going to boom?" "Oh, I'm sure of it," was the reply. "He sent me a copy and I've been look­ ing it over. It's bound to be a go." "Well, that may be so, of course, but what is its distinguishing feature ?" "Why, it's a paper that no respect­ able man would ever allow to come into his house."-- Somenilie Journa^ Musical Item. "I dfisfrc," said Miss Esmeralda lionfc- coffin, entering a music store on Austin avenue, "to purchase a piece of musdc for my little brother, who plays on the piano." "Here, Miss, is precisely what you want." "What is the name of it?" "The Maiden's Prayer for fifty cents." "Only fifty cents! Why, he's much further advanced than that, fo» last month he played a piece worth seventy- five cents. Haven't you " something for a dollar?^--Texas Si/tings. "WHAT are you holding* your hand over the fire in that way for? Tbe weather isn't cold?" said a father to his little son; who answered, UIain't trying to heat the weather, papa; I'm warm­ ing my hands." WHAT I'd like to know," said a pious old ladv, "is how we're ever going tc get back the forty days that are Lent every spring?" ' « ; ' - * Si V 6» Climate to Be 1 ^ ' [BoetoaB*^.] It is amusing to hoar ̂ l who has crossed the country dw<4Jiag*-k them with the pictures English cottage, of the house, the vine-grown dows projecting from the j height, the shadow, th about them, and the ii They would give all the villas of this country for one grown or red-roofed cottage fcft glisli hawthorn lane, ora | valley. But experience 1 country's architecture is, to a gree, a necessary fruit and OT its circumstances. We have a and difficult climate here, a first of all, consider it in our There is the heat of the tropicg summer, and the almost Arctic the winter. We cannot have low : here, for the rooms would be erable in snmmer. Low, shu cottages, with dormer windoi roof, are no doubt pic they mean hot chambers roof and low, close sitting-rooms. if an air chamber be secured the roof and the bed-room, upper rooms, in such nights have now, would be almost able. We must have houses high tween floors, and the bed-room separated from the roof. Then another element of the pk esque is the deep shade and thick' overclambering the walls. Bat on perience shows that sun and air are dispensable for health: in a house, we are compelled more and plant trees at a little distance, shade by piazzas or balconies, lowing the sun free play on walls. A moderate use of wall-' of course, permitted under these ditions, but any excessive draping ivy or creepers breeds insects, aii& creases dampness. The constant bility to malaria, of course, mc our modes of building, and eoi to admit sun and air. Indeed it-' noticed now in England that all the country houses are built much more in the American or French style than formerly, with airy chambers, high stories and much openness to the ran* • and summer balconies for 'I'tylt The regular form of BnglH tMgtlMM is a historical feature, a result of gkowttu It appears here sometime* where an old country seat has been enlarged Stnd remodeled, and is wonderfatty attaact- ive. I live iu such a house, and while I enjoy it, and am proud of it, I must confess that it is , exceedingly incon­ venient. It requires great expenee in the care, lighting, warming, and age. The cheapest of all houses it^fhe square house, and as most people tMtfld with small means in this country* naturally adopt this, or some cations of this form. These old jimi irregular English villas, it sha«l&':lM| remembered, have become under modern sanitary ideas. Tlw&r drainage is execrable,* and they ape often nests of typhoid fever. In this country the first thing fof » householder to consider, l>efor* ,all ornamentation or architectural is drainage. He must see to it1 water pipes and drain pipee are protected from tiie frost, tfeat P' are close, and that the outfloi peded. In all small hoi the part of wisdom to plaoe pipe behind the kitchen <"" is always warm, and to . angle and no cross-pipes to room. So fatal are the return from a drain, that it is safer to ,' the Aid country custom of boi pitcher in the bed-room, and obi|||r;;aU the water from but one place, t&i'fciftlt- room, which should be entirely 'sepa­ rated from the bod-room. It is W lieved by physicians tha£ one of fbe most prolific sources of diphtheria #nd all foul-air diseases is the. tettUA gaa through the Croton wateiHUfltihfC In regard to material, it if anything is more suitable tie ttk climate than wood with "briok filled in." This is dry and warm. But ia every locality there are peculiar, and often, beautiful, building stones, whkk could be combined with wood in Swiss chalet style with very pretty effect. Yet small house builders will find that every deviation from "HUptiy style is expensive. Stone alone ieiana often damp, and, for some unknown reason, not so completely wateB-tJfeht. A red roof is a very pretty feattire, l>ttt if of tile or slate it is expensive, nod, if of shingles exposed to rot. It aeeMf ft pity that the modern black and btaa slate is so much taking the of shingles in country houses. PjagiMs are t he great necessity in this and the prettiest feature in ou* tecture. They should not, however, be built on the south side of the bH&lfeg, and on the west should not be so broad as to exclude all winter sun. A balcony for an open-air breakfast would be ail exceedingly pretty feature in our fteft villas. One Honse a Year. "What do you think of such a passion - that?" asked a New York lawyer, recently, as he introduced me to Cbarkf • Bloomfield, of Boston. "Very morbid." ' f "Perhaps it is," replied the wtn tro criticised, "but 1 have determined to remain true to it as long as I Kve.* This man inherited a fortune at the > age of 22 and a number of houses, which, by singular coincidence, was ex­ actly the same as the years of his life. He got the idea, somehow, that ha must maintain the relation between hit estate and his increasing age. So he set for himself the sing!#task of adding A house to his estate every year. EvenV nally he grew to look upon the fulfill­ ment of this self-imposed duty as fb requisite to his existence. Possibly H was due largely to his intimate ac­ quaintance with one portion of the spectacular drama--the ballet--and to •lie Mephistophelian promise to Faust Of a year for ev^ry soul. But is foreign to the story. For a time he had 110 difficulty in buying a house an­ nually out of liiis income. Now he ia 44, the rent-roll has fallen off alarm­ ingly, and the quality of the property he has annually been forced to buy has steadily declined. Whcroas he began with houses ou Beacon street, he is now , jurchasing small tenements iu .South i . Boston. Superstitious to a ridiculous degree, he dares not sell any house that he has once acquired. The ide* of economizing in his expeuses b<ui never occurred to him, and though he now owns forty-four houses in Bt>s! he is miserable because ho does m_, know how he is going to buy the fcartvm fifth. " THE English like French maids, the French like English maids. T the way a balance is maid between two countries. WHO loves his work and knows to spar©, may live aad flourish here. i:S