LLCGIILETS. Lizht infantryv Torch Imam. Cut on the bis! / The guillotine. Bur-«lair us dit°y~ Off in tlce sfuly night. ' Kaolin by his ‘ fizz"-~ Thepltzl-r-wster _ dealer. Flirts are like ï¬ddIu-ro g: (-d vétér n! the bean. Up in snugâ€"~The equalling itrfeh'. at midnight. A tea-totallerâ€"The tea merchmts’ ac- countsnt. the gallery. The hard drinker generally gets a had in the world. i The darkr-rthcur is when )1 u can‘t ï¬nd the matches. Corduroy and rib‘nnl materials of all sorts are in favor. Only the :ublimity n-f check can rise to the znndrur of luck. A promisirg young “:3? One who gr: his clothing ( n Cit-(lit. It is the nmrinfacfurirg chemist who always has a mu rt ready. There is more ambition without tl’if rgy than energy urthuut ambition. It is reported that. Sarah IIr-rnhazdt has grown stout. It’s all “ elnlf,†It is btflrr to give than in rmcive, This rippling patilculurly to advice. The prac'ece of putt’ng in-d p« g per upon is alec is most nezuruly an un cayenne-d in t. “ “'e'ru just driven to death," replied the ULdCIIukrI’ whtn liftlitil how Iii» busi- ness prt-sperul. .\ man ma} successfully point tho tom, red, but when afterward he has a lamb with a policcn an In: looses color. Bliss Tuck- i, a, Texas gill, foi'or-md her lover 3,er uriltn MLd IIHL'IILU him. She must lute be: u Tu Lei-en out. If your children are froulllx- i oi‘h worms, give their: Mother (iravcs' Worm Extermins'or; safe, sure, and effectual. The invention of the drum is :‘mcribid by the Greeks to the God I5;.ccl;u.s. Who-nee, unlluulltuiiy mess the e rpns- :ion "light 211:). ovum.†Of all inventmrnts, none can rank for profitable-noes Withthuse of r. thl'spellb life which is duplicated and redupiicsteu in other well-spent lives. ()livo trees do not come into full bear» ing until after the twentieth yuir. This accounts for the fact that so nmny olivu branches bait wild oats up to that, peri- od. Who will say that the ice man has no feelings! Look at the great lumps he leaves at the dome in vintu‘, and the more cruel and cold the any the grtatcr is his generosity. 'I‘rnsllng a Cossack. A Cossack redo up to her door of a little ion at Bruile, aisnnuntcd, drank a succession of glasses of brandy, and than rnado a show of renrounting his horse. The landlord tt'IliID:.Cd him that he had not paid for his drink. Thu Cossack, with a heavy high, drew out his dirty purse and began fumbling for 2: Cum, when his horse gave a sudven snort, and felltotho ground. The Cossack was in despair ; he d (l everything he coulo. to raise the beast upon its legs, but all was in vann. “He is dead! He is dead I" cried out in chorus a number of bystanders, who had boon attracted to tho spot by the accident. The poor Cossack would not believe it. The cruml, knowing tliata Cossack’s horse is his own property, and that the loss of the animal would be a terrible blow to the owner, br-gan to make a col- lection, in order to mitigate his suffer- inga as far aspoesible. I‘lvcn tho land- lord was touched, forgot his bill, and pro. scntcd the bcruued man with another glass of brandy, refusing any pig. The Cossack lifted up his saddle, slung it. over his shoulder. (Irupptd a fart-Well our over tho fai:hful beast, and walkvd sorroufnlly away. When ho was about 100 paces distant he suddenly stopped, turned round, and gave a long, shrill whistlo. Atthc sound of tho well-known signal the IIUI‘BO sprang up, ncighcd a friendly answer, and darted off with a lightning bpchl to his grinning owner. The Cosska was soon on its buck' making significant symsz of thanks to the assembled cro ml for their generosity mnlsympathy. In a few minutes he was out of sight,andtho landlord of tho krotch- nu was loudly registering his vow tho: ho would never again trust a CUSSIILk. _.. .._.___ ._._._._‘ov<-.~> Io...â€" -v r- A Hallway Ilullt by htealfh. lIcrr Kirycrt gives tho folloaing par- ticulars, In tho ffl'fliflllpftft‘rlf Elmira; lob. “shall at Brunswick, kI a short Inn; of ruili‘ay in China, which did not sham the fate of tho lino botwwn Shanghai and Womung. He says that tholnnc in films- tion, which is only seven and .1 half miles long, and which was construcmd :iilqu‘. by stealth, is in lllc I‘rouucu uI 'l‘chuii, and If! usul for convoy" g tho coal from tho mines of Hoping, suuatcd about TU niilcs to thonurzh cunt of 'I'icn-Tsin and 19.": miles to the us: of l'tkiu. Tho \-l:t'- my, Li flung Chm g, “(an anxious that this coal should be used for the Imperial Navy. for the arsenals in the I’rovrnco ul ’l‘chmi, and for the vessels of the Chinese Merchnnt Steam Navigation Company, instead of the Japan Coal. 'I‘lio simplest plan would, of coursu, have been to con- uuc'. Two-Tarn and Kaipn gby means of a nilvsv. but the Chll‘cnc would not al- low thulï¬uglisl. engintcrs who had bein called into do this and insisted upon a canal being cut. This canal which has indirectly been (-I sonic Itl'\lC£‘. as If. nus had the effect. of drannngtho very marshy district llm oghwhivh it is cut, umhi not be brought. uguc up to the mouth of the mine, so the I-‘Aghsh engineers were»!- lowcd toinsko a r‘lIWnFUYL‘l‘ tho list fow min-s. Butuhcn tho line was undo the Authorities insisted upon the trucks being drawn by mulra, h-r ll“, of a lmmou’vc which the urgincen of Elk lino hul prwnn d being \‘liiplt-yul. want on I"? wmu tune, tut they have given way, runl tun or three funh engines have ban brought UTcI' fnm England. £ro “Unï¬l- The Kniping mm- is worked Upon \‘r'lvi immuntsof your unwciableneul dared % not veulnro. ,turb 3. pm, at I hear you are." lcieutilic pnncrplrs, bump phvt‘triul wi'h III the molt a. prund mflgnanis. 'I‘m- galleries are ‘U .. 1ch I" In nglh, 1: {Mn m awn mtlrn r f "annuity. In a cup, I) of end in trauma I) zinvluus' If. v m- the rind“, of u. run-4 ury in»... i... 2;..- Ticnv'l‘ain stuiucu haw In 5.: II'AIIIS ‘froszp-a. ’lln nunofrum now the) might have got the u sl tiny ranted i- i only safe with pckn: lumps, and .u 15‘: Chino-o will szwnyl bn 1k ll.“ glass is and» to light their pip“, the workings have been Ibnuduncd Tb.- c 1'. of the and at the pi‘.‘s mouth is only ‘3 shining: 3 run, so that uveral “tuft! mes bane boon establish“! in tho nctghtmrhutd. The mum git u crnph ymgnt to 1,000 men. nine tc 1.:er of sham work underground. and though out yet a some“ tinsncully. it man likely to be very beneï¬cial to the dist-id. .w- ThecoxuthImotomy. i 2::l1in connl of the rush u! the Severn. lily father, as my name Will show, was i 1"ranh. v noun] no: he“ i road, and soon stood before the gate of Tm, shynves, I begged him to enter and look fulil)’ lcurlmdy those drrnuis in verse, thcyiquired after my health. hoping he had; V.‘ r l I“ ______-__- , ‘marvellous talk. Each and eve ' sub'ec: jThe Daughter 0f the Stars"seemed alike to him, and my iffiervstJand ______ wong‘er at his resources grew and grew, . _ _ ' till e culminated when, as the nivbt i ‘* M" “ ’“M‘H‘ .oaucm wore oryf, our talk turned on supernatrioral â€"“' subjects and the mystic relation between CHAPTER I. body and spirit. Then it seemed to me I have no friends-no ambition : so the 1‘“ eye†“dined’ h†"lifluecmd face fi-Zloaing strange events are not. IECL-I'led %l°wed more “tighuy‘ WEN“ h? “’91†as .iwr any one's pleasure, or.to win for have new}. head human beufg “Mk l myself the repumtinn of being able to b‘u’re of 3mm: Danng theonu‘ wad i wave a marvelous tale. I write in the spe‘iulmwn" mm†5" “range knOWkdge l : ope alone that. chance may bear in these m h“ ‘1).wn’ .fwrn “it‘ll: MMEGM by Ike- Imgcs a messng to one with whom I have geummlSlyp mlen’ a .m ï¬gmum?“ no means of holding intercourse, unless “I†. .“53'1‘: “he "1H ’1 1:“ Pee-1° it be in a In} sticel way. as between spirit “"1 f‘gm @&“38°- 9 59° C as one H“, whit who new, not as one who suspected ; he, .' v ,‘ - - - , - x -- planted his feet firmly where those of the ‘1" “an'e m thpBeaum-m‘ “y '8‘“. deepest thinkers tread with timid steps. lit-inn, whvnIsm not roaming over the H h ,d a“ h . , nd h w.,rld, the Firs. Thornborough-a small eh .3. edt e funvemu‘tlï¬gn‘ t 3 2mm in the West of England, almost W8 ta "me as 33*" e“ Bib?“ ' listened as he tore to pieces the assertiorm of the most eminent writers of every go “0 hi, his mt,“ cummw dur and country whohave treatcd'lho subject rug (no of her pcriorï¬ioil troubles, and before order was reinserted and he was free to return, had won my mrtlersI upon which he spoke. One of his lighter diatribea, I remember, was in ridicule of the so-called spiritualismof our day. “Not, ’ he said in, conclusion, "thut'Its disciples are without an inkling :of the truth. Take away the absurdity of tables and tambourines, and the bare fac: of a spirit being summoned by a. more powerâ€" fulspirit-force is reasonable enough.†“You believe, then, in the power .of will ’I" I asked. ' “i believe in'the power of strong will over weak will, as I believe in the power of strong body over weak body. Ifby physical fprc'o I‘can make .a body Captive, heart, married, and, strange to say. set- alcd down to a rpi 6 English country life. He was no needy fortune-hunter, being in pursessiun .- f good means ; and as my on rner, LIIU lair. member of an old fern Iy, was an heiress, the death of my parents, which occurred whilst I was very young, left me blur-5.: ll 'hi‘h riches, which, as yet, :...'.o br ugh: mu litzle hapvimss. 7 , My boyhood ms lonely and sad. I was 5-; mt: i\ e and like a=l sensitive boys, unpopular “fill my kind. ‘My guardian _ h a and innit-o was :1 lawyer in London, -in Why by excess of spirit power should I win-n. my fatlicrund mother had notenthmuafll’lm'f lUUIIL‘I‘Ii-iucl‘edUIUUS implicit CI;IIII'.l\ i o- ; and -thl, frbm a bull I may Perhaps BIV“ you 8 INVOI- busincas poin'. of view, did he discharge his that: But he wasa bachelor, and, if liuf. ta-El'lve-ly disliking children, un- dugt It'll lutle about them, and the need of young hearts for kindly sympathy. He had no In)er ..- which he could take me, or'r.".lnir no home in the true sense of the word ; so my boy hold was very dreary. UHIH‘I’SII)’ life was to me little better; there] “as almost as solitary as I had bee-nut school. Istujicd hard, and as the powers of my mind grew, became a. dreamer of strange dreams-indeed, lived almost i-r a World of my own creation, full of quaint fancies and p etic ideas. I was always shy, pl rhaps‘ constrained, in my manner; and alrhough, with manhood opening before me. I lost the feeling of unhappun as that clouded my boyish do) 5, it smnrcd to me that it was my lot to stand alone in the world, and, as friend- ski p was. understood by me, call no man my friend. . > At last I took my degree and quitted ()rturd without j-vy or without regret. Fausying I should like to see the old. home once more, I went down to the Wes: of England. The Firs, during my minority, had been let, furnished 2 but the tznant having quittcd a few months before, I had re- solved that it should not again be occu- pied by a stranger. Knowing it possessed a well-stocked library, I thought I should be as happy in my own house as else- where, so installed myself inthe old coun- try mausion, and began, even at my early age, the life of a recluse. It was in January .that I took posses- sion, and the months passed on, yet I stayed May came, with all the sweet. ness of the season, but It made little change in the manner of my life. In truth I was settling down to aflmelancholy esistcnco. Ilivcdin books and dreams alone. Now, r.le look Ibackzupon those days, it seems to molthat the only breaks in my seclusion were the long walks which l mus fair: to take for the sake of health. In on».- of these walks, when, towards evening, I was returning home, as I :suntered through the lane, with its gt eon heng on either side, I was overtaken by u. fellow-pedestrian. I rememborIwas nolding the delicate frond of a fern I had pluckol ; it seemed to me a rare species, and I intended to carry it: home to iden- tify it. As I walked, looking at it and nrsrvelling at its beauty, footsteps sound- od brsido me, and the most melodious nrsn's vl-ico I have ever board said 2 “ You are fortunate in finding that speciiuzn in hose parts; I have never met With it so far west before." I turned as he spoke, and found by my side a man of about ï¬fty. He was tall and well built, dressed in the ordinary ntiiro of an English gentleman ; but although his pronunciation was perfectly correct, something in tho inflections of his voice told me he was of another climo. I forgot how he named my fern, butho evidently know its genus. and 'aftcr ex- liminng it closely, returned it tome, and still continued to walk by my side, giving am an interesting little descriptive ac- count of the curious ferns and plants of otaur lands. Then he drew me admitly imu conversation,till we touched on many otllvr topics. On every subject he scorn- od wprslly informed, and, without the has: suspicion of pedantry, spoke lucidly and pnassutly, completely drawing me out of my USIILI reserve. By this time I had observed ho was strikingly handsome. and as. after a fashion of my own, I had studied facr‘s all my life, I said to myself, as I noted his wide brow and massive :l.iu, “ This man 1135 great intellect and mun-use fume of character ; he is a giant and l mu a dwarf beside him. He has, or should have, lordship over his fellows." Still conversing, we reached the main But now, Mr. Beauvais," he continued, with a rare smile and complete change of manner, “Iain sure I have fired you with my wild talk ; let us turn to lighter sub- jects.†, l protested, and truthfully, that my in- terest in the present conversation was keen; but he only smiled in answer, and, adroitly turned it into other intellectual pathways, and then, leaving them gradu- ally drew, me to I:qu of my own affairs. Recalling the conversation of that evening, I can see now that he appeared in many instances to prompt me in what I told him concerning myself, and that he seemed already to know much about my usual habits and manner of life during the last. few years, That life had as yet been uneventful enough, and having no possible object in concealing any page in if, shortly he knew as much about my- self as I could tell him. I am “not egot- istical, so perhaps, he soon noticed. that my interest in the turn the conversation had now taken flagged, for he rose, and with. courtly politeness bado me good- night, exacting before he went a promise that I would pay him a return visit on the mortow. He. wrote his name and address on a card, which he handed'me, saying, “Your servants will tell you where to find my house; I shall expect you to-morrow evening, and we can theurcsumepur con- versation.†‘ V I “And you can give me the proof you promised of the power of will, or spirit, as you term it 'I" “Nay, I can do that now. See, it is justjtwelvo o’clock. Atono o'clock you may retire to rest, not before.†As he spoke, liedixed his deep, lust;- rous eyes on mine. It seemed to me his glance only rested on me for a second ; but I saw the courteous smile fado from his face, which became calm and stem.‘ I suffered no inconvenience ; I did not; even, I believe, lose consciousncsafor I remember I fancied I heard him close the door as he left the room, and then, in a second, as it seemed, turned in my chair and the clock on tho mantel-piece struck one. , Atrlck, I thought, and hastily drew my watch from my pocketâ€"it recorded the same time ; and then, greatly puzzled at the occurrence, and full of curiosity as to my mysterious acquaintance, I retired to rest. I should add that the card he gave me remained between my fingers, and bore these words ; “Pedro Cardenas, The Hermitage." The next morning I asked my house-l keeper whether she knew the gentleman who had been my guest the night before, l and learned from her that his house was about three miles away,and that he led a life of the strictest seclusion. He was re- puted to be veryrich, butlittle or no- thing tvas known for or against him. He had lived at the Hermitage about five years, and kept one servant only. a man whom village gossip said Was a F tench- man. Two gardeners went twice or three times a week to keep the largo grounds which surrounded the house in order, but they had never been inside the house it- self. In fact, from her report, I gathered that a little mystery hung ever the place and its inhabitants ; so after the per‘ ' plexing event of the night, lneeded no further incontive to make are direct my, steps to the Hermitage as promised. ; I' had little dilliculty in finding the i house ; indeed, although I had not speci-l ally noticed it, Ihsd often passed it upon my solitary rambles. It stocd luck some distance from the road, entirely hidden E from view by a high wall which encirclcdl house and gardens. A large iron gateâ€"l firmly locked, l foundâ€"closed tho en~ : the bell, and{ trance to the drive. I rang Iy dressed manâ€"a foreigner cvidrntly. I 5 must have been expected, as he at once= led the way along the winding drive to the house, which, to my surprise, look-3 ing at the extent of the gardens around. itl in) lmusu, when, conquering my natural at .r lure uliuon of a book which we had ‘ lwn discussing s few minutes previously. was comparatively small. simply a comfortable residence, rvi'.hou:_ ' I should have called on you long ago, any pretension to elegance or to modern ; )Ir. limuvais," he said, “but heard suchiim mvemenu, , .Iy guide conducted me to a small,, I: needs a bold man to dis~ 3 chl-fumished room, and in broken I-Ingï¬ lish begged me to be seated. ,, " his. a port, ' I nplicd ; " a drainer! In a few minutes Cardenas appeared, Sundial†I think. Cullld I but andube greetel mo cordially and in- . Wx-uli pad-s ; but thcrc I fail." Inor ire: too much upon my time: " Tush 3‘ ho Imtcfl'd. " The Inc; the evening before, I furcied his features I, Pfl'mv III" 3"†“I if. in the dream ; the , bore a faint smile of good-natured mock- Imecbsmul Verse is but the garb that cry, ’ciothcs it, the limb that makes the 133-: “ane you dined, 11:. Beauvah?†he ,isteuce of the spirit known :0 the outer A asked; and uponmy replyingintha silirmw ‘ world." i With this we entered, and I led him to before it grew duh. ,my library. lIc cued little for books I! lit: cm were beautiful; smooth bu ks : indetd. he seemed to carry the er of lawn running up to groves of Mammals of are volume I could show line old trees, and here and there beds lhirn in to had. .‘am ind u been my'whcme foliage told of the glowing beauty I Info to meet a man of such intellect and they would bear in a few weeks' time. , or u nun who expreoed my admiration. adding : lunch admit knowkdgc ‘ could use the widens he pone-lad to, “You takes gmt interest inhorticul- ,sptly in convemtion. He at near me, -, m i" and every hour entranced me with his He shrugged his shoulders. A keeping a‘ good garden. I . . “know him and speak to him,even a: you ', stive. suggested swalk round the gardens ' In tru ' VOL.XH ‘ FENELON Runs,ONTKRKLSATURDAY,NOY.M,lï¬u Highest spprobaticn-Applauie frcac’ “Not at all, but I have an object in! You shall know I it some day ; but. not yet." Our tour ï¬nished, we returned to the house, and the evening, like the night before, flew all too rapidly as I listened to his conversation. And 'as I sat and saw his wonderfully expressive face, that seemed to change with every subject he touched, as the theme was gay, grave or obtr'ose, I felt that this man was exercis- ing a strange influence over .meâ€"an in- fluence that increased every hour. Natu- rally, I askcd him about the trance, or whatever it was, into which I had fallen at his command. ' He smiled, and laid : “That is nothing; I will show you more wonders than that, some day. That is," he added, as though speaking to himself, “should I ï¬nd you worthy.†Several other enigmatical sayings like the above, whether dropped intentionally or by chance I knew not, served to raise my new-born curiosity to the highest pitch, and to make melresolve to fathom what mystery he was hi'ntin at. However, for» the present, 1- coal guess or learn nothing. . My visit that evening was the com- mencement of an‘ intercourse almost daily. Evening after eveningI snught the Hermitage. The cordial welcome that Cardenas always gave me banished all my shyness and fear of intruding. I spent in his society hours 'of happiness. of' which as yet. I had only dreamed. Ea- couraged by his sympathy, drawn on by his approval, I poured out my heart to him -,.I told him my wildest dreams, con- ridl d to him my most secret aspirations, feeling I had at last found the friend for whom I had sighed so long. In short, he was my instructor, my counselrr, my all but father. I cannot say our conï¬- dence was reciprocal. He told me little or nothing concerning himself ; and upon my asking him once some question as to his early life, and how he had obtained his wonderful accumulation of wisdom, he replied : “Some dayâ€"soon, it may be -â€"'you shall know all, but the time is scarcely come yet.†But now I was con- vinced that this wonderful man had some strange revelation to .make when he might think proper, but its nature, when that hour came, surpassed all my expec- tations. , “’0 eat one evening in the room we generally occupied; the window was open, and the summer night crept on slowly. The sky was cloudlcsa, and above us shone the stars. We talked, or rather converged, but little. Cardenas secured in a strange mood, and as he looked upwarth the heavens, was whis- pering words unintelligible to meâ€"I fan- cied it was Aruba", ' Iv'aht rain had fallen durlng the evoni_-- *“orilc'h‘e sweet scent of the frcshoned {:3 ° , * 9%,ï¬hrough the open window. I ' Kiss, indeed, so beautiful, that ‘- V .1 content to sit and enjoy it 1139*. .16 ; but my placid reverie was at ls broken by my com- panion, who Lg" 95‘: Aye by saying, in deep impressive f! "a?" y- ' “Philip I as," _. I the hour has now come when; unfair to tell you why I sought you, why I have made you my friend and ' companionâ€"I, who have spoken to few men for many years." I listened attentively, and could see pie deep, dark eyes shining in the star- ight. , I , “To-night," he continued, “at my bid- ding a new life opens to you. Moreover, to-nigbtyou shall see the one who is des- tined' to share it With youâ€"the being who shall hold the love of your body through this life, and the love of your spirit for ever.†My surprise at this mysterious com- munication kept me from speaking ; but the thought flashed through my brain, “This man, after all, is but a charlatan, and will probably produce a magic crys- tal or some such device ;" but before I could speak. he rang a bell and sum- moned his servant. Juan entered, bearing a lamp that throw a soft light. Having placed it on the table, he departed in his usual sedate and noiseless manner. My companion then pressed a button in the wall, an I I could hear a bell ring- ing a: a distance. As he removed his hand, he laid it; on 'my arm. “Wait I" he said, almost sternly ; “wait, and say nothing until you behold what I now would show you." He appeared to be laboring under some unusual excitement; his manner and voice sex-med changed; so it was with the intensost feeling of curiosity I fixed my eyes on the door, and kept silence as commanded. The door opened; and a maiden more beautiful than ever poet dreamed, than ever artist painted, entered. Yes, as she stood there in her loveliness, my heart leaped forth to meet her, and I knew that unless I could win her love, lifo for me would be but wearincss and sorrow. She had crossed the threshold with a light, quick step, as though has- ' tuning to rejoin one she ‘10de ; but, be- I coming aware of my presence, haltcdi with downcast eyes and clasped hands. “Astrrm, my daughter,†he said, would to mo." She raised her eycsto mine, and her, eyes shone as the stars above. Her hand ' rested in mine for a second ; and then, 5 moi-ed some words, a question apparent» ‘ ly, in the same strange tongue previously! used by him, and which from her lips ' sounded yet softer and sweeter. By this time I had regained possession . more closely, “'hst particularly struck? me was the unearthlinc-ss of her beautyâ€" 1 the radiaucy of it. Fair as she was it wan: yet the spiritual character of her loveIi-, ness that raised her charms so far above other women‘s as the heavens are above I the earth. IIcrdrcss was composed of some rich material, strangely made, but '_ showing the shape of the perfect ï¬gure it, covered. hands, hair blazed a diamond star. ‘ youngâ€"certainly not more than ninctccn ‘, needed the remem years of age. strangeness of our meeting, so bewildered at the words her father had lpoken bech she up , that I was like one in a dream. I made sfew remarks. which she answered in wellchcscn words, but I was content for the greater part of 1.th summer sun gsihered Ire-z. threw myself strugan on my bed sud fell into a profound Inwg ltime to sit-till and gaze upon her, as the ' at on a low ottoman by her father. with her graceful head resting on his'srm and her Kruger: running his. In little more Rare jawals shone upon her, arms, and neck, and from herirecuy, than half-an-hour's timc, probably in obedience to some intimation Cardenas gave her, she rose and bade us goodnight. Her hand again lay in mine, and as she had conveyed to my excited heart a wild sort of idea. that she ms being from another sphere, I felt a positive relief when I found my ï¬ngers clcse around warm flesh and blood. Gncefufly as she had entered, she left as ; and as the door closed upon her I turned to Cardenas and exclaimed, “Oh, my father, give me but. her love, and I will be your slave fer ever. She is more than mortal.†“She is more than mortal," replied Cardenas, in his deep tones. “Listen, and I will tell you the history of her birth." So speaking, he extinguished the lamp, and in the starlight he told me; and salts unfolded the marvelous narrative, his voice, over melodious, seemed to shape itself into a song, and as I listened I knew, be it truth or falsehood, be for one believed every word of the tale he told - “Years ago, Philip Beauvais, I stood among the mountains of Spain, my native land. Night after night, I gazed alone at the stars. I watched them from their ï¬rst faint gleam at cvo till their last faint gleam at. morn. Not as an astronomer, seeking to' win a little fame by foretelling the advent of a. new comet ; not to bring ‘somc distant speck of light, hitherto un- I noticed, into the family of the planets. No : I, who by that time has proved that my spiritâ€"my willâ€"was stronger than any mortal’s, said, as] watched, ‘Amid that shining space there are myriads of spirits, free and embodied, and .among those myrisds there may be one whose power is not equal to mine: as I have swayed the spirits of men, so may I. per- chancc influence one spirit in, the outer, space and draw it unto me.’ The thought may have been the thought of a madman, but nevertheless it took full possrssion of me, and day and night 1 concentrated every faculty of my mind to compass this one desire. I said, in answer to all objections my sober reason raised. As there are weak minds with mankind, so there may be weak spirits in space,whose powers, though for above 1tho average of mankind, may be below my own, and one P of these I may command.’ So I waited and watched. until one night, when hav~ in: sent my will forth in such a sustained effort that I well-nigh fainted, a thought spoke to my "10qu and said, ‘1 am here! what \vonldst thou have with me ?' I knew that I had conquered, and Ihat one of the spirits of the stars was at my com- mand. Then, in thought, I said, ‘Conrc unto me in earthly shape, take the garb of mankind, and we will be evcrztogcther. And I know that the spirit said, ‘I obey l’ and loft me for the time. “Two nights afterward there came to me, as I sat alone in myrcom, a beautiful woman, dressed after the manner of the peasants of Spain, She stood before are, crossed her hands upon her breast, and said, ‘Mastcr, I am come.†And I said said to her, ‘You will be mine and abide with me for ever, and teach me many things.’ Then the woman wreatth her arms around me and said, ‘Not for long, 0 love, but until this earthly frame is fretted away by the spirit it imprisons. Till then I am thinc.’ And she lived with Ian and taught me things that no men knew; things that were I to give them to the world to-morrow would corr- sign me to a mad-house. 80 different is the truth from the theory. “Not long did she stay with me ; but ere she died, or departedâ€"call it which you willâ€"she bore me a da tighter, and then I knew I had not summoned her from her spirit-homo in vain, and that the birth of that daughter was an era in the history of the world. I said, ‘I will guard this child as the apple of my eye. I Will rear her in utter seclusion, as she will need no companions save the divine thoughts which her origin will doubtless give her; and‘when the time comes I will seek a man worthy, so far as human being can be, to mate with her. Pure he must be and spotless, free from worldly taint, and clear of crime and bloodshed. A poet, it may be, with lofty thoughts and inspirations ; and this man shall wed the Daughter of the Stars, and their off- spring shall be the salt of the earth that shall Icaven the whole. They shall be the poets, the musicians, the thinkers, the statesmenâ€"nay, even the warriors of the earth. till war shall cceaso to be. In time a'new race shall replace the old, and the regeneration of- the world is accom- plished I “I have lived in many countries, and am far above the weakness of patriotism. History has told me that the trump that calls for progress and improvement in the order of things sounds first and loud- est in England ; therefore as the maiden grew older, I brought her here. Some- thing I knew of you before we met, and now, knowing you as I do, I say to you til-flight, ‘l’hilip Beauvais, you are the man I have chosen for the great work : and, moreover, for your own happines.’ " As his voice, which in uttering the last sentences seemed like the voice of one inspired, sunk into silence, he rested hia lzcad on his arm, and again fixed his gaze on the stars abave. For a moment I said nothing ; and then, as the ï¬rst of the many eager ques- {inns trembled upon my lips, he broke the gate was speedily opened hr .1 sedate i seating herself by her father, she mur- : inm a sort of invocation, using the soft unknown tongue I have mentioned be- fore. Then tumingw mo: “Depart now,†he said ; “ ask nothing tonight. You have heard what mortal never heard. Depart, and bewith me to- It appearedzof my senses, and could observe hf-rlmon'nw." I obeyed, and left him ; not to seek my home, but to wander miles and miles un- der the clear stars, turning the marvel- ous talc over and over in my mind. Strange as it may sppear,l had little doubt as to its truth. I had always hads dim kind of belief in the supernatural. L'ardclns, to me, was a man gifted strangely beyond his fellows. I had my- self experienced, both directly and indi- the power- of his will, so that She was in the present state of mind, it scarcely outer ends. _ , bnnce of the radiant. more labor, but there will be fewer c . _ uneartth beauty of the maiden I had wounds to heal over or rot any, and t e We a Ire little during Hut inten’lef- seen to induce me to accepthis narrative tree will reoelve less of I check to its IE? I W“ '0 PNth bi thefts true. The only doubts that. harassed growth. A light new set in sli ht iron .I -I .._.___..__ _...__-... N, I. J Nose I -., l Growers «futra large part and peaches llng ago learned to rrutrict. wastath 1 to jar: : 3: amount required for product; ' mg; the largest specimens. 7 , -.- f I“ ,‘ ..__" we v.0...†41-6: ‘ LL": ._, V: M. t‘lIRNtiFAl.?~ Mr. Gladstone has always sung ballads to h~s \\ n'e‘s accompaniment, and is pretax cutly :onnd as paper «anionic 1:7 forums Congress in England. lurwinï¬zissairlnvasdcl' htoqutigun‘ft's ‘ctricstures of himself. I c'was'ol very long body, and when seated and grasping tart ho bars a szrong lfkvucsiro his I t 1.“; rill: link. ‘ u I l‘ho I‘xzr's wife, who is‘vnthiisbu‘QO Isl-out j.-\\‘(llcry,' now Minster! the innit lunch. :1: patterns and artistic settings first be Apples Injurcjlflch Cows! ’ Apples are just'as good for cows as for pigs. but cows cannot, like pigs,'ba per. mitted to help themselves ad (minim. They must be'deslt‘outfo \hem according to the judgment of the feeder. A half bushel per cow daily, in two feeds, would be used with advantage. The writer once fed thirty-six cows running to pas- ture, each per day, a pack of common apples, for forty-ï¬ve days, and the daily milk and cheese record of the season showed a production of 430 pounds of cur-6d cheese, due to feeding the apples, equal to seventeen ounces of cheese from each bushelof apples, which was worth, as dairy cheese is now, ten cents a pound. The whey' from; the increase of milk to make that amount of cheese, reckoned at 75 cents per 1,000 pounds. was worth $2. 90, making the total product. from 405 bushels of apples fed, $45.90, equal to ' 11:}. cents per bushel. ' It cost less trouble to feed the apples to the cows than to de- liver them at a cider mill, though One was quite convenient. “'0 have no stri- tisfics of results from apples fed to cows when making butter, but consider them. quite as valuable for butter as for cheese i productionâ€"[National Livc Stock Jour- nal. ‘ i , l I What is a Buslicljof (‘uru I All grains in their natural stuto contain more or less water, the amount. depend- ing upon the conditions by which they; have been surrounded. In Indian corn‘ the moisture may reach as high as fifty} per cent., and probably never falls much ' below tvventy per cent. at the time of harvest. Unfortunately but little is known of the exact composition of grains as they come from the harvest field. All published analysis gives the moisture content as the sample came to the chem- ist, but usually omit to stale its ago or manner of curing. Prof. Brewer's spo- cial Census Report. on the cereals, givcs 98 analyses of all varieties of Indian corn, having an average of 11 per cent. of water, with a range of from 4.10 to 220.08 cr cent, but most of the samples were undoubtedly taken from well cured corn. The curing process of Indian corn has been made tho subject of careful oxpcri- ment at Iloughtou Farm. Samples are, selected at tho harvest from each of tho . thirty-one experimental corn plots, mull being grown with as many different man- urcs, represent a wido range of composi- l tion. These samples are then _storcd ' upon suspended racks and under condi- tions which allow of rapid drying, and; weighed at regular intervals during tho succeeding year. There is a loss of from 10 to 15 per cent. of moisture during the year, and n , Weighed bushel at the and of this limo: contains this amount of moisturo less and } an equal quantity of solid matter iuoro,i than the weighed bushel at harvest, yet; the legal weight, 56 pounds. in most of; the States, remain the same for both onto 5 ditions. The only departure from this, occurs in Ohio, where a legal bushel of l corn on the ear weighs 701‘ounds from' harvest to January lst, and (38 pounds: from that time on. At Houghton Farm the 31 lots of Indian corn, selected from i the crop of 1882, gave in December fol- lowing the harvest, an average weight per ; bushel cf 54.1 pounds. The followingi April, bushels from the same lot aver- aged 52 pounds ; in July 53.4 pounds, I and in October, one year from harvest, , 55.4 pounds. The crop of 1881 was fol- lowed through a similar series of changes, and averaged 55.5 pounds per bushel, one , year from harvest; hence Indian corn; does not reach a standard weight per: bushel until aftcra year’s drying. Inf business this is important. The increase 3 of two pounds from July to October, was I a. gain of 3.7 per cent. in value, if sold by l weight, but not taken into account if sold " by measureâ€"[American Agriculturist.r Pruning Trees. There will be no better time betwccni the present and next autumn for pruning i the orchard trees than now. The f min i is all gathered, the leaves have mostly: fallen, and the trees are in a compam- v tively dormant state. “’here limbs if? considerable size are removed in Nov-cm- I her the remaining wood dries or seasons quite soundly without checking badly, I especially if the wounds are brushed over} with a solution of shellac varnish to keep i out moisture. One who has recently 3 been picklnga crop of fruit from trees, that had nearly twice too many small ; limbs will see the necessity now cfa judi- i cious thinning of the surplus top. I The same law holds good in the produc- l tion of apples or pears as of grapes. ; Largo specuncns cannot be grown upoul wood that is small from the overcrowding; of the fruit bearing vines 'or twigs. , Small twigs, small buds, and small lcnvcs' foretell sunll spccimens of fruit invar-l iably. . In priming trees aim to distribute thcl cutting sufficiently throughout the entire 1 tree. If there is twice too much top rtj might be reduced by cutting off all the, branches on one side, and leaving thcf other half untouched. This might be a good thing to do in some cases, as whore E a tree is too near a division line, and“ overhangs s neighlmr’s hog pen or prin- turc, but it is not the tray to trim an «r- ‘ dinsry tree. A tree that overborc this. year, as very many trees have, will have : very few fruit. buds for next year's bioprn- - ing, but will require a year of rest while . new fruit buds are being formed, so “1' pruning now it should be remembered. that the next crop of fruit will he grown,I wholly upon wood that has yet to grow. It will do to have a tree after pruning look quit: thin, if the limbs arejrrdicimivs-E 1y removed, for another year's growth will fill It up agiin, and perhaps make it nearly as thick and close as it is now.; Instead of cutting out a few large to cut out man Ema were whether I was worthy of thalfnmosttacbcd tos long handle, ike the ; high destiny chosen mo. and whether I could win Astrm's love. Wearied at last with walking ,' sleep. ' (to n cort't'mzn.) i . . andch useful for during this work. . thinking. 1 reached home. Ind u thelshun are excellent for shortening In - 1mm 1-;v_ wd [1,;Jinxvl,gh"u’}md. fnr which Cardenas had i handle of a hay take, an handy tool for Ithinning out the tops of trees. There l are also shears attached w s polo, whichuo Such .wths. and bringing a tree pe. Long slender limbs are whipped about much marshy winds than those which are reasonably shortened In. branches near the trunk, it is far better 2 ' smaller ones nearer the: ’ Is method will require, ‘ . I w! out to seat IHML‘I. love u.’ monsy. or love of secure in Home. 3 - ’ ’ ‘ .lmn Iugrlox is turning grsvin tho pruned life. Her London houwmvhcro she. IIVCS With her two bmthérs,‘ is always lull of flowers. She devotes much time and money to charity. ‘monoyn could Accnrding to the French, Joufl'roy, and not Fulton. invented stcamboats. Ilia statue at Beamcon represents him stand- ihg in a thoughtful attitude, with one hand on a part of his rival: ongiuo. Dr. Schliemann‘s house in - Athena, called by him a cottage, is a large square marble mansion crowned with groups (I marble statues. Tho interior has spa- cious and lofty rooms richly framed and full of his antiquities. On the day of Queen Margherita's ar- rival In Venice for the lmtlscason, when the diningmom windows of the palace were thrown open, the pigeons of St. Mark's gathered in hundreds to welcome the Queen, as she and the little prince had been in the habit of fucding thorn at this balconv. Miss llor King ling, daughter ofa prominent Christian Chiusmnn at Fco- Chow, whose family was the second ono in tho crupiro to embrace Christianity, has bccn lately admittsd to tho Ohio Wesleyan College. Him is ~sevontwn, “.nd intend: to study llit‘tllclnt‘ and prac- tice in China. ' Mr. Gladstone. long since nude it a rule to give thirtyâ€"two bites in chewing a piece of mo.t, and I brought his children up to do the same. We are afraid it speaks poorly for Mug. Gladstono's marketing. Mr. John (I. Gurrct‘r. the great rail- road nmnagcr, novcr rcca'vcrcd' from tho shock of his wife's death, \vhich undoubt- edly hastened his own. Ilu usually hml hcrbesido him in his «Illicit. giving it u, homo-like appearance, and aho was of great assistance in his business. ALLIGATOR II UN TING. Exciting and Proï¬table Sport In tho Swamps of Florldn. rIho men who hunt alligators for their hides and teeth are now reapinng rich harvest. The warm mother induces great numbers of allimioai in frequent the marshy banks of tho river, and tho absence. of sinv‘l'ltzlllun during tho season maker. them conipnr;\li‘.‘vly foul-rm. 'l‘ho mansl- utlcccï¬ï¬‚ful hunters hunt only in dark nights. .\ fcw nigh'a ago I lltlil my aluminum broken :lovcml times by the dis- charge of ï¬rms. (In rr-pziiring to the banks of tho visor Ilu- l1.‘.\l morning tn ascertain tho canon of the ni-iscs, I found two young llllfll occupying :l Immiin con. structed p:ihu~.tro fan .nmp. Six dch alligators \vvru lying: .muuul tho camp. varying in hugth from four ‘m right foot. "The hunters had killed ilmzn the previous night. One of the young' nu-n was busy skinning thcalligatorr, wliilo the other. with flu: aid of u singlo' cooking utensil which auswonul the purpose of. linking- ovcn and coffee-pol, was preparing a fru- gal Morning meal. The skin is removed from tho belly, the “mint part of the jaws, and the inside of tho logs. The skin on tho back is “ruthless. As soon as the skins are l‘clllUVt‘lI they or.) salted and packed in barrels, which ru‘o shipped it!) a New York firm. The hunters rcccivo $1 a piece for all hides four foot long and upward. After the skins uro i'cuiuved tho hunters cut oil the lands, an] place them on tho edge of the river, \vlu'ro they remain for about a week. At ll‘.~: null of that time tho tooth bcc‘nro to laws“.- flllf. they can readily be pulled-nut '.'.Illl the linguru. _'lho teeth from hu’f a d1 zen lirgo :illigatoru weigh about, a pound, and are Worth $1. The two young men killed fifty alligators intho week they huMcd in their neigh- bourhood. They bLgiu hunting as soon as it. becomes thoroughly dark. 'I‘hcir l hunting outfit Cunninin of a bull’s eye Irin- tcrn, in camp language r-nlled “look 'em up," a double bairulfl: -'gun, or "kill 'cur sure,†and a lurtche'. uifh which they split the alligator-'5 skull, to which they ‘give the very cxprcucivo nrnue of “dyna- mite. 'I‘ho lll'lll who in to do the shoot- ing for tho night {salons tho lantern to his forehead. and lft‘n‘l‘ft his place in the bow of flu: bout. III: parliivr paidch the bum r-zutfiuu'rly nl'ncv lllu sin-am. vleilo flu: nmn intlw Imu hoops a sharp lookout for :rlligzi‘.nr:.' my. .4, which, under .,iu'«ni~.«,l.‘;o circurontnndcs, ho mu. “shine with his lantern at :1. “wince of two hun- (lrul yaidiz.†.‘l'r. mourn they discover a p:-.ir of eyes tiny puddle. cautiously up to within a few fuL-L Imm t‘lo :illigubirs’ head, and discharge .1 load of buck-shot into it. As soon as the him. is fire: rho paddlcr catchcs tho alligator hyiln: jaws, which he holds {number with one hznnl wlillo ho cleaves the skull : pun with his hatchet. Formations: 1h" I:ill',’f"'i.'n retain consid- erable puwvr of “anon When such in the. case ii is 11thvr arr-hing work getting them into the hunt. Sonia-times very large zillizgri‘xlrn turn tim- b' 3‘. war. If an alligator in not h'lrzdl..d at unco after being wounded l.:- Links to thub-‘ittl‘rm and in IUAL. lashed out; r." the hunters, who has killcd more that LOU?) alligators, what was the aim of this larger: one he bVfl‘ lzillwl, and he talc: me If“, feet long. lIo said that his fath- : l;il.cd one on tho St John's riior 17‘ feet long, the head. «if uhlch, v.th placed in :i jinn)" barrel, projuctml two imhcs over thetup. [Io 'fl."l'l i‘. to n Lin ".::r for 5’23 “H‘ltuidn Ci rrcnyun'io-zzcv,u ..,.. ¢-o-. .a. . .. ,1 - «p is no: so industrious as In: might. b: ' ‘ school, owl his father endeavors to t'cwc‘. the owl. "So you were lch'. in :.*,'.,n a‘. school for not knowing your I. n :jux‘. walk into that ronzxi,"ntd ol'l l'r/chtop hunting for a strap. “Oh. no, pa, don't, for heaven's sake, In: us have another we of those Johnny I" Cï¬l'lft‘f. = Howlittle v4.2 snow «f the inner life While we may imagine that his thornflala an: of friendly serenity, he in Until:in may mum : "Strange he does rm lill'llll'all the 85 h. borrowed from rrzc." ’Eh, human na- ltnrc, thou art a deceptive rascal. Thou ‘Ii‘uilust the smile of the sweet herb, and ; thickest the thought of uuirrinc. 1 Volvo: and volvuzt.:n marques in the ' comely trimmed with point do ham and , Irish crochet. lama, are the popular, dressy ,overgatments of small boys and little girls.