|jgr§|ciirg ^laiudealer I. VAN M.YKC. EMW «ML PMMMMT. MoHENBY, ILLINOIS THX PK1ZP. M)E:.l, "BrlM," cried the editor man, "Oh. bring-- HPP THE robi no nest in the linden tre«_ AiMi t*ic 'irn 'll of *>>« jennies i>ni*s fchobreete-- A poem mvie to the tti^meot Sprtn*: Ho li&ckneyetl, palsiei, senile rhyme Poets hive song since the htr:li of ti®®« Bat a new. appropriate, beautiful tkln|r The poet* gathered from far around-- The I'oets of high ai d oi low d^gres-- And. tnnine their Ivre* to the ccnc'rt O, They tilled th- air with a vernal sound; t They sang of the sun and the April ^how rs. Of the brooks aud the birds and the budding floors-- Bat the editor bit hie thumb and froWMfe At last to the editor's pawnee oame A slender youth with a b 11~>na eye. And neve: h > deisneil to make reply To the editor's 'quest to know his name; Bat. when he unfolded hts po?m there I The shout that ravished the cold, pale air Bespoke the poet's eternal fame. *Twas not a lyric of purling >111, Nor a ballad or bird norarhyme of flow'r. "Twas not a poem of blossoming bow r. Nora sons rf the sheep on the distant hill; Ah, no, this beauiilul Owed to Spring Was a much inure p'ahi : nd practical thing -- *Twas a spherical, f«fur-gr*tned quinine ptlL --Eugene Field, in Chicago New*. A MORAL FOB THE DAT. A splendid son a fi e old father had, _ Whoee youth and strength and beauty made him glad. Throuch teething, mumpe and measles he had passed Outgrowing all his childish ills at last. Veil formed, well fea* ured, good as well as gay. Fitted, be seemed, l:is fellow men to sway. Ko wonder that th> parent's heart wa» proud. And that his boasts were often long and load. let when the youth had just to manhood grown, He bad some thoughts and fancies quite bis own. He put aside the best end choicest fare. Convinced that man should lire on nanght bnt air. The ouly proper food was air, he said. And men were gross because too grossly fed. Butche's anil baker qnlte too rich were made* By fools i rotected in their needless trade. His dimes and dollars he desired to keep. And would, while air was plentiful and cheap. This doctrine he so ably argued out, Tho father wondered, though he had to doubt. He begged the son his noble rage to quell. And r.ot to practice what he preached so well.. Of all his father's fears the youth made light; He only cared to know that he was right. Todive on air alone he bravely tried Bnt faded soon, and then at last ha died. "Bow ind'screte!" exclaimed the saddened sire; "And yet his courage we may well admire." MORAL: "Let other fools their startling theories try; •Wait, vou, until crimes your turn to die. --X. Y. Svn. THE "PIE-BITERS;" -OR- II* CUrl who Fell in Uit With the i Author. * literary sensation of 1883 was "The Pie-Biters," a novel of contempo raneous human interest appearing se rially in the Centennial Magazine. It •was a work of considerable force and originality. Its plot was novel anil in teresting: the characters were vigorously, though at times crudely drawn, and the •dialogue Was of a popular breezy nature. Ite elmrf attraction, however, waa the air of mystery which surrounded its origin. The public, ignorant of the identity of its author, ascribed it to numerous •writers of more or less fame, and quite exhausted its ingenuity in endeavoring to solve the riddle. The publishers with great shrewdness used this mystery" to good advantage to advertise the work, and the press, influenced by the popu lar interest in the authorship, used all the powerful means at its command to discover the secret. The eminent Mr. Griddle, of the New York Forum, who was popularly sup posed to sustain intimate relations with the publishers, asserted with unanswer able arguments that the author of "The Pie-Piters" was William Howis, of Bean- Trille; while the San Francisco Nugget with equal positiveness declared that it plainly recognized through the work the playful hand cf John Grass, author of the famous "Large Trowsers." The lesser newspaper fay. following the ex ample of their noted brethren, expended much ingenuity and enthusiasm in bring ing forward their own particular candi dates. Seven cities contended for the honor of the birth place of Homer, but this was collapsed; for no less than sixty-seven cities, fourteen villages, and three rail way crossings vigorously claimed the author of "The Pie-Biters." "Pie-Biter" hats became ihe rage: the "Pie Biter" waltz was the musical gem of the day, and the eminent show man, Mr. Barnum, publicly offered *5 ,000 to the author if he would reveal his identity and consent to exhibit him self beneath the canvas with the bearded lady and the Andalusian fat boy. Among all the admirers of "The Pie- Biters" there was none more wildly en thusiastic over its merits than Miss Lucy Sheldon. 8he garnished her conversa tion with plentiful quotations from its pages, and drew unfavorable compar isons between her friends and the char acters in the novel. She lived in a com plete atmosphere of romance, and bridged the time intervening between the issues of the story by rehearsing its previous incidents. The burden of her rhapsodizing del uged the patient ears of Absalom Per kins, her worthy guardian. But fre quently Frederick Kane was caught in Oie shower. Frederick was the old gen tleman's favorite nephew, and therefore was always a welcome guest at Perkins Villa. That is, whenever a lapse in his reportorial duties permitted his absence from the office of the Morning Clarion. He had known and admired Lucy from her infancy, and, this admiration, .nourished by his constant association with her, grew into an earnest devotion. "Whether she reciprocated this feeling or not was a matter of some doubt in his mind. But he bided his time. One pleasant Saturday afternoon Fred- •erick ran down to the pleasant suburb where his uncle resided. His ancient relative greeted him with customary Warmth, but Lucy, who was feverishly <eotting With a hairpin the leaves of the latest issue of the Centennial, scarcely noticed his entrance. "A fresh attack of the old disease," whispered the ancient Absalom, play fully jabbing at his nephew's ribs. "So I see," assent<±d Frederick. "It may be contagious; let us fly to the bil liard room while there is yet time." Lucy Baised her head scornfully and glared at Frederick. "This is newspaper wit, I suppose," she said. "You sneer at my enthusiasm over this story, but that's because you can't appreciate it, Yet I can see that you're dying of envy because you can't write anything half so good." "I only envy the author his power of winning your approval," gallantly an swered Frederick. "That's quite worthy of your society column. Why do you waste it on me? I believe you pretend to be a writer. And what do you do? You write about horrid horse races, and police courts, and prize fights, and--and--and--church fairs." "Sharp, though slightly illogical," said old Absalom as he left the room, beckoning Frederick to follow. But that gentleman stoutly held his ground. "Well," he argued, "the duties jrou mention may not l>e the highest fovm of art, but they may serve as stepping stones to better things. You will remember that even Dickens was once a reporter." "I hope," said I)ucy, feelingly, "you don't claim that Dickens wrote anything like 'The Pie-Biters'?" "Certainly not," said Frederick. She looked at him dubiously for a mo ment as if uncertain of his meaning, then fell to devouring the pages of the -maga zine. Frederick with an amused smile sauntered out and joined his uncle in the billiard room. He did not see Lucy again until he met her that evening at the dinner table. Her cheeks glowed and her eyes spar kled; she even looked at Frederick with some degree of toleration. "And how are our worthy friends The Pie-Biters'?" queried Absalom with a portentious wink at Frederick. "Now, Guardy," cried Lucy, "don't turn on me too. It's bad enough to hear this penny-a-liner scoffing without you aiding him." "I'm sure I haven't said anything," expostulated Frederick. "No-o-o! But you look it and that's*a great deal worse. I know you think I am a silly girl to waste so much time over a novel, but to my mind 'The Pie- Biters' is the finest work ever written. It goes straight to the heart; it strikes responsive chords." Here the old gentleman turned very red and furtively kicked at Frederick under the table. "Ah!" cried that young man, grimac ing with pain, "do you think so? Perhaps I am incompetent to fairly judge it, but I franklv confess that I cannot find in it the qualities you rave about. To my mind it seems to be written with but one purpose and that is " "To elevate struggling humanity," cried Lucy. "No; to fill the purse of the author." "That's quite too bad, Mister Kane," cried the offended girl, with a heavy stress upon the "Mister." Yon willfulla misjudge the author. I know he |s a noble hearted man; one without a single selfish thought. The author of 'The Pie Biters' mercenary! No, indeed! Every line he has written shows his disinterest ed character and his deep sympathy with human nature. Could anything be more artistic and gentlemanly than his treat ment of the heroine in the October num ber? You remember that she has just invited Maj. Barn ham to elope to Pitts burg with her, and what does this grand author make him reply? Listen: "Pearl Patchen, I can never consent to such a sacrifice on your part. The man who would be base enough to ruthlessly tear a red headed girl from her home at the near approach of a severe winter has no abiding sympathy in his heart for her freezing family.'" i At this point Uncle Absalom snorted derisively, but dexterously changed it in to a harsh cough when lie noticed his ward's indignant gaze turned upon him. Frederick eyed his plate intently. "You see," she went on "he wished by his coarsness to shatter her idol. This may arouse your levity"--here she frowned at her guardian--"but to me it reveals the profound insight of exalted genius." "To me," said Frederick decidedly, "that particular passage soundedlike the wildest bosh." Lucy flushed a vivid scarlet, and her eyes shone with an ominous light. "Bosh," sherepeated; "what irreverence. Still you know the author of 'Pie Biters' is worthy of universal lova .1 worship him myself!" ; "What!" gasped Absalom. "What!" repeated his nephew. "Yes," cried Lucy, quite unterrified, "and Fd marry him to-morrow if he'd ask me. No life could be sweeter thaa one consecrated to him and his noble works." • "Probably he's got a wife or two al ready," said her guardian. "That's the way with these geniuses." "No," said Frederick, "he's unmarried. I know him." "You know him?" almost screamed Lucy. "Why didn't you tell me be fore?" "Because it was a matter of confidence. I have, however, told him of your great admiration for him and his story, and he has expressed a desire to meet you--pro vided, of course, that you will respect his secret." „ "It shall be sacred," murmured Lucv. "He's safe, then," chuckled Mr Perk ins. "Did you ever hear of a woman that couldn't keep a secret?" "Then it's decided. Next Saturday I will bring him here." "Here," cried Lucy, with clasped hands afad ecstatic expression, "here! The spot will be famous forever. Guardy, I must have a new dress for the oc casion. " She looked at Frederick and fancied that he seemed pained at i her enthusi asm. "Thank you Frederick," she softly said. "You havo given me much pleas ure." She rese from the table and turned to leave the room. As she reached the door the old man called after her: *~You still think you'd marry him?" Lucy turned defiantly. "Yes," she answered, "if he should ask me." Then the door closed behind her. The two looked at each other across the table and smiled. The appointed Saturday dawned bright and clear, but Lucy's spirits were not in harmony with it. She was nervous and absent minded, and little inclined to en joy her usual daily occupations. She feverishly worked a few Kensington stitches in a table cover only to savagely rip them out again. Then she brought out her colors and tried to paint, but quit in disgust when she discovered that she had adorned the face of her Spanish lady with a brilliant carmine nose. Her efforts at the piano were equally un successful. Her guardian observed all these evi dences of her agitation with intense en joyment, and gave way to unseemly mirth on numerous occasions. As the hour appointed for the inter view drew nigh Lucy's nervousness in creased ten fold. So anxious was she to appear at her best that her patient maid was almost driven wild with her vagaries. At last all her exactions were satisfied. Never had she appeared more beautiful, and the ancient Aosalom, who was keenly sensitive to female loveliness, embraced her with pride. For some time she sat in^the drawing room in silent state. Then she heard steps upon the walk, a buzz of voices in the hall, and the door opened. She wait- od a moment, then slowly raised her eyes to see "Yes. And as you see, alone. My friend failed to join me at the place of meeting. He has promised, however, that should he be unable to meet me at the appoiiktedUour he would waive etiquette and follow me here. So you may expect him at any moment." "Ah," sighed Lufcy. This time there was no mistaking it^ nature. She fait re lieved. v\ v Frederick observed her closely. "Come," he said, "don't look so 'dis appointed. I promise ' JOB he will be here." He took ti seat by herside. She seemed strangely changed. All her buoyant spirits appeared te have deserted her. After a few moments silence she slowly said: "I want to explain." Her cheoks were flushed, and the slight tremor in her voice indicated more than a passing emotion. "I don't want you to misjudge me, for you have been my tme friend so long. I am not the silly, reckless girl that my talk the other evening would lead you to think. It was all wrong, and I am very sorry for it, though I wouldn't have said it, I'm sure, if you and Guardy hadn't so exasperated me. You know what I mean--about the, author of The Pie Biters.'" She looked appealingly at Frederick, who gravely answered: "Yds, I under stand." "I am only an inexperienced girl, you know, and can't help being foolish and enthusiastic some times. But you'll over look it, won't you, Frederick?" "Overlook it," cried that delighted young man." "Yes, and forget it al together. Your words, Lucy, give me courage, and beside this may be my last opportunity. Perhaps it is folly for me to place myself beside your ideal, but I have resolved to venture all. You know I have long loved you, but I doubt if you know the intensity to which this love has grown. We have always been the best of friends; but I want something more than friendship now. Your love, your self. " Lucy slowly turned her eyes to meet his burning gaze, and in them he read his title clear. Ten minutes afterward Frederick with a start of mock surprise inquired: "What will you say to the author of 'The Pie Biters' ?" • "Mercy!" cried Lucy, "I had forgot ten all about him." At that moment Mr. Perkins disorefetly opened the door and paused at the thres hold. The hastily dissolving tableau he beheld filled him with amusement. "Ho, ho!" he chuckled, "so you've told her?" "Told me," cried Lucy, "told me what?" "Why, that lie, onr Frederick, is the author of 'The Pie Biters.'" "Is it true?" sh? gasped, turning to her lover. "Yes," he answered smilingly. "Then," she cried hysterically, "I'D keep my promise after all and marry the author of'The Pie Biters'." ' The author of "The Pie Bitters?" No. Only Frederick. She gave a little shrug--of disappoint ment or relief? Who can tell? "Ah," she said, "it is you." AGRICULTURAL. Worth a Licking. Some years ago, in Georgia, that band of Christians known as Ascention- ists were having af graad revival. One day when meeting was in full force a storm came up, and a young gentleman who was out hunting with his servant took refuge in the church door. Being curious to see the service, the two hunt ers crept up into the gallery, and tfiere hid in a place where they could observe without being observed. t "Come, Lord, come; our robes are ready. Come* Lord, come," cried the preacher, while all present gave a loud "Amen." . "Marsa Gabe," whispered Cuffy, lift ing his hunting horn to his mouth, "let me gib dem jist one toot." "Put that horn down, or I'll break your head," replied the master, in a whisper. The horn dropped by Guffv's side and again the minister cried: "Come, Lord, come; we are ready for Thy com ing. Come, Lord, come." "Do, Marsa Gabe--do jist lemme gib 'em jist one little toot'" pleaded Gufi'y, wetting his lips and raising the horn. "If you don't drop that horn, Cuffv, I'll whip you within an inch of your life," whispered the exasperated mas ter. "Blow, Gabriel, blow; we are ready for His coming. Blow, Gabriel, blow," pleaded the minister. Cuffy could no longer resist the temptatiom, ami sent a wild peal ring ing from end to end of the church; but long before its last echo died away his master and himself were the only oc cupants of the building. "I's ready fur de licking, Marsa Gabe," said Cuffy, showing every tooth in his head,- "for I 'clare to gracious it's worf two licking to see de way farm cat tle kin git ober de ground wid skeared 'Scensionists behind dem."--Editors' Drawer, in Harper'* Magazine. Wound* from Butcher-Knives. Dr. Axford, of this city, calls atten tion to the bad consequences which of ten follow slight wounds from sharp knives used in slaughtering and cutting up animals. As a rule clean cut wounds made by a sharp instrument heal readi ly by first intention--that is, without suppuration, fever, or much inflamma tion. But the wounds made by the packers' knives, which are almost inva riably on the hand or fore-arm, do not heal in this manner, and, if of sufficient depth to divide the skin and injure the cellular tissue beneath, are often fol lowed l>y spreading inflamation and sup puration. The cause is probably the action of minute organisms conveyed into the wound by the knives, which are rarely cleaned with care, and never disinfected. The worst consequences result from wounds made by the knives used by the "shavers," that is, those employed in removing the finger hair from the bodies of the animals after they have passed through the scraping- machines. Dr. Axford confines his re marks to the treatment of such wounds, and makes no suggestions as to efforts of prevention. If the cause of the pe culiar results of these wounds is septic material on the knife dne to want of cleanliness, it would seem that some simple precautions, such as leaving the knives in a disinfectant solution, would be useful. If, however, the poison is derived from the skins of the animals just killed, so that the knife is receiving fresh accessions of virus whenever it is used, such attempts at disinfection would be useless.--Chicago Times. How He had Learned It. Sunday-school Teacher--What has our lesson to-day taught us? • Little Boy--Than we must shun evil. Teacher--But we are told that money is the root of all evil. Now, what furth er does the lesson teach? Little Boy --That we must shun the evil and grab the root.--Pittsburgh Chronicle. A who has tested fhre dttfer- snt varities of peas, according to the satalogve from which he made his se lections last spring, now' finds that there is not the slightest difference in any of them. In earliness, manner of growth, height of plant, lengtli of pods, number of peas in a pod--in fact, in avery particular the alleged different varieties proved to be one and the same. The farmer thus victimized per tinently asks: "Have seedmen t!>e right to give new and catching names to old varieties and to bewilder and mislead the public by offering the same article under five different name3." A CORRESPONDENT of thelowa Home stead criticises those who seek to re store the Morgan horse to favor. He says the farmer of this age has little use for a horse of 900 to 1,000 pounds, and that for light work in cities and on tho road better general-purpose horses of 1,100 to 1,300 pounds, with good speed, action, and spirit can be easily found. For heavy work on farm, road or street the Clydesdale, the Shire, or the Percheron, or their crosses, are far more suitable and more profitable. For such nnimals there is always a ready market at good prices, which is not the c;.se with the horses of light weight. AN INSECT EXTERMINATOR.--M. Cram- oisy, a member of the Sooiety of Horti culture, in France, declares that he has discovered a, composition which is fatal to the mnch dreaded phylloxera. The discovery M as accidental, having first been successfully used for the destruc tion of vferinin infesting apple trees. The constituents of the composition are as follows: Actd pyrolijrneux, or wood vinegar, gram. .1,000 Salicylic acid, gram 2 Red. oxide of^taercu i y, gram 1 And fuschine, ceuticram 25 This compound was fatal to the male phylloxera, did no injury to the bark of the vine, and could also be used, dilut ed, to water roots and destroy the in sects prying on them. CHARLES GOODNIGHT, one qf tho cat tle kings of Texas, thinks that "lump- jaw," or "big jaw" in cattle is caused by decayed teeth. A few years ago he saw in his herd a young* steer having a swollen jaw. The animal was promptly roped, his teeth examined, and one which showed decay was knocked out. In a day or two the animal recovered. Since that time his men have ouders to watch for signs of "big jaw," and on its appearance to resume their dental operation. He has had no "big jaw" in his herd since adopting this plan, of which those scientific gentlemen who pry into the secrets of Nature and big jaw with microscopes and great curiosi ty should make note. WHILE those who write for the especial benefit of the horny-handed sons of toil are advising their readers toplant black walnut and other American trees they patriotically perhaps keep silence re garding the great merits of some for eign sorts, as, for instance, the Eucalyp tus, which grows in the large tracts near the head waters of the Walts Hiver, in Australia, whare these trees average 250 feet in hight, mostly straight as an arrow and with very few branches. Many fallen trees measure 350 feet in length. One measured 435 feet from its roots to the place where the trunk had been broken by its fall, and there its diameter was three feet. Five feet from the ground the trunk was eighteen feet in diameter. A few hundred of such trees in the door-yard of a prairie farmer would make a quite noticeable feature. A farmer who had a few thousand of these good-sized trees might start a small saw-mill of his own. By all means plant E. oblique or E. amy y da Una and see them grow to a hight of 250 to 500 feet.--Chicago Tribune. A VERY suggestive article appeared in the Scientific American, relating to storing wind-power for small motors. It advises the use of windwills to com press air in suitable reservoirs, from which the power thus stored is to be drawn for use in propelling buggies, wagons, or boats, and for many other purposes where steam cr horse-power is now used. Two huudred atmospheres compression will give 3,000 pounds pressure. This is perfectly practicable and safe. At a pressure of 1,500 pounds one and one-half cubic feet will give one-horse power one hour, and one-horse power may be estimated as equal to that of six men. The writer says: "A drive of five hours is a long one, and, in fact, five hours' use in the twenty-four is more than the average. The power which is employed though we use a horse for it, is commonly not more than half a 'horse power.' A reservoir containing eight cubic feet //ill run a li^ht vehicle year in and ear out. Such a box is a very small matter to suspend below the wagon, and need not weigh more than a 190 pounds, counting thus for resistance as one additional passenger. No compli cated machinery is thus required; the air-chest is connected directly with a crank on the hind axle for the driving wheels, and the forward wheels are tised in directing the course." This is only one of the many uses for which jompressed air may be Used on the farm amd in every-day * ork. PACKING AND SHIPPING POULTRY.-- Most Western poultry dealers ship their poultry to Eastern markets m barrels on account of tlii.s being the most con venient way for handling. Eastern marketmen, however, prefer choice fowls, whether chickens or turkeys, in boxes, as they admit of keeping the fowls in better shape. Nice new and lean packages more than repay the ex cess of their cost over that of dirty second-hand boxes or barrels, by their attractive appearance and the more ready sale, under any and all conditions :>f tlx* market, at good prices. In - rowded market and among many of ferings, first impressions often do much o secure a customer, when otherwise the ponltry might go begging. (<n this subject the American Cultivator, after stating substantially what has been given above, says: "One of the great est mistakes committed bv the average shipper of poultry is the use of packing material, us straw, hay, or pap.tr. No such material is needed if the fowl* are properly bled, cleaned, and cooled off. Paper gathers dampness and injures the bii ds so packed. A s an illustration, we have seen turkeys packed in a freezer and as a matter of experiment covered with paper. In twenty-four hours the birds so packed had commenced to mold. If turkeys be killed at night during seasonable fall and winter weath er, they will l>e sufficiently cooled for packing by the following mornings THE smallest pony in the world is the Est of the Baroness Burdett-Coutts-artlett. He is five years of age and stands thirteen inches high. HOUSEKEEPERS' HELPS. POTATO 6AKES.--Take mashed pota toes, add a beaten egg and enough flour to roll; mix well with the potatoes; make into cakes with your hands; fry brown in hot lard. SUGAR BAIU EY" PUDDING.-- Eight ounces of bread crumbs, six ounces ox suet, six ounces of powdered sugar, the rind of one and the juice of two lemons; mix together with one or two eggs; put in a fluted basin or mold and boil one and a half hours. POTATO PANCAKES.--Pare and grale six large potatoes. Chop fine one small onion and mix with the potatoes; add two beaten eggs, a pinch of salt, one pint of milk, flour enough to make a batter, and one and ope-half teaspoonfuls of baking powder. • BREAKFAST BISCUIT?.- -TO one quart of flour add two teaspoons of baking pcrwder, one teaspoon of salt, one heap ing tablespoonful of lard; mix with milk wartn water or sweet milk; knead as little as possible and have the dough as soft as you can handle. CHEESE PUDDINGS.--Take a dish about three inches deep, first put a layer ol bread crumbs, then a thin layer of' grated cheese, a little pepper and salt, until your dish is full, then pour in a cup of milk, lay bits of butter on the top and bake half an hour. STEWED RABBIT.--Cut the rabbit into small pieces; wash with salt and water; put it into a gallon crock with a quarter of a pound of salt pork, two large on ions pierced with cloves. Simmer slow ly for three hours, then add one teacup- ful of bread crumbs and salt and pepper to taste. OAT HEAL.--Soak a teaeupfnl of oat meal over night; next morning add one pint of boiling •water; h&ro it in a tin cup or bucket and set in a kettle of hot water; Loil half an hour, then add salt and a half cupful of sweet milk. To be eaten with sweet milk, or with butter and sugar. SIRLOIN OR BEE*.--Make a batter in the proportion of four tablespoohfnls of flour to one pint of milk and two eggs; butter a deep dish, pour in the batter, which must be very smooth, then take the inside of the sirloin of beef or any tender part, cut in inch square pieces; bake oise hoar in a mod erately hot ovem. PORK HASH.--Take any cold, clean- bits of pork you may have left over, chop fine, add some bits of fat, put in a skillet; chop an onion fine, add salt and pepper and a little hot water; boil till the onion is cooked; then take two- thirds of a teacup of sweet milk and dissolve a tablespoonful of flour in it and add to the hash. Let it boil up good, and serve. A VEAL STEW.--Take three or four pounds breast of veal, cut it up into pieces two inches long, and put them into a saucepan with a couple of car rots, an onion and a head of celery cut into small pieces; add parsely, thyme, bay leaves, clover, pepper and salt to taste, and sufficient stook or water to cover the meat. Si mmer about an hour, or until quite tender. Take out the pieces of veal and strain the gravy through a colander. Melt in a sauce pan one ounce butter, and add one ounce flour ; mix well, and put in as much liquor from the veal, well freed from fat. as will make sufficient sauce; let it get quite hot, then stir in off the fire, the yolks of two eggs, beaten up with a little lemon-juice and strained. Put in the pieces of veal; when quite hot add a little chopped parsely and serve. Statistics of Divorce in France. A French philosopher has been col lecting the statistics of divorce and lecturing on the theories with which they supply him. The results are in teresting and in some respects singular. Some well-worn theories are quite up set by his facts and figures. Taking a fixed standard of 1,000 marriages, the philosopher distributes all countries into three groups--group A, where the divorces average from 1 to 5 in the 1,000; group B, where they run from 6 to 10; group C, where in 1,000 nfiarri- ages there are from 11 to 28 divorces. It is strange to find among the first class the Italians, the Russians, and the Scotch. It seems the only point in common among nationalities otherwise so opposed. The Swede, the Norwe gians, the Dutch, and the Hungarians are in the second closs, while the third includes most other European people. The philosopher insists that the laws of a country have no influence on the results. Norway and Denmark have the same laws, and Norway is moral and Denmark is loose. Switzerland is one republic, but in the canton of Lucerne there is scarcely ever a divorce, and in Apponzell there are a great many. In Catholic counties, as a rule, there are few, and in Protestant there are many. Much depends on profession. Artists and men of letters seem very unfortunate in their unions. Moreover, the statistics of suicide run parallel with those of divorce. Saxony is the country where both are forced in great numbers. For' a space of three years the number of suicides remained station ary in Sweden, and so did the divorces. Both are checked by the birth of child ren. Where the husband is from five to twenty-five years older than his wife the number of divorces runs up to 184 in 1,000; where he is more than twenty- five they drop to, 1 per cent.--Pall Mail Gazette. Old Egyptian Custom*. "Ointment and perfume rejoioes the heart.' Pa. Of sweet-soented ointments, all Egyp tian ladies were, in centuries gone by, extremely fond. These luxuries, as well as rarest perfumes, were usually kept in an alabaster or porcelain vane, very ehaste and elegant in design. So strong were these delicious odors, that passing down through centuries, they nave still retained their power of de lighting, and oven yet bear upon the air the "sweet scents" that character ized them ages ago. At grand gatherings, annointing was one of the early attentions to guests, after which, a lotos-flower was pre sented to each person present, and then were brought necklaces of flowers, and garlands for the head, so deftly placed that a lotos-llower or bud could droop over the forehead. Supplementing the flower-service, wine was offered in oups of silver or porcelain or perhaps of glass. The Wolf and the Hare. A Wolf one dxy stopped a Hare in the public path and said: "Come, now, I want a candid expres sion of opinion. Am I not a better looking animal than the Fox?" "To be honest about it, you are not," replied the Hare. "Ah! then you insult me! Take that --and that--and that." The poor Hare was knocked down and rolled over and enffod about, and her life was saved only by her superior fleetness. Moral -It is better to agree with a Wolf near at hand than to praise a Fox five miles away.-- Drtroit Iree Press. Do all that you can to stamf, and then feai lest you fall, and by the grace of God you are safe.--Edn ards k Ta e of fats. The cat is a beast of rerj ancient lineage and high degree. Perhaps it was from Nubia that the Egyptians got tho cat, which they at once began to worship as the Goddess Posht. The etymo'ogy of the names of the cat throw little or no light upon its orig inal home. A recent American writer mentions some children who invented a "cat language," in which cats could be intelligently ttddi'saswd. Oddly enough, a French philosopher, Dupont do Ne mours, had anticipated this childish idea, aud made considerable researches into the language whish cats talk amoirg themselves. He decided that cats, which have a more extensive view of the world from the tree-tops and house-tops than dogs enjoy, have also a< more fully developed language than their natural enemies. "The cat has a speech in whioh all the vowels of the dog are found, with six consonants into the bargain; these being m, n, p, h, y and f. Hence the cat has a far greater number of words than the dog; bence, too, its superior intelligence and cunning." The Abbe Galiani, a famous wit, was also fond of studying cats. He main tained "the language of the torn is quite different from that of the tabby, as it ought to be." In this oats resemble several savage races (such as the car- ribs, and a people mentioned by Hero dotus), in that the males and the females of the race speak twenty differ ent tongues. The abbe detected "more than twenty inflections in the language of cats." He was certain that "cats always use the same sound to express the same thing." These philosophers might well have wondered, like Mon taigne, what their cat was thinking of their diversions.' Chateaubriand, a great friend of cats, had rather a good story of a ghost of a cat, accompanied by a ghost of a wooden leg, which used to walk up and down stairs together in an ancient house. And if cats have a language why should they not leave ghfcsts behind them ? Among tho most illustrious friends of cats have been Victor Hugo, Theo- pliile Gautier, Prosper Merimee, Chat eaubriand, Cardinal Wolsey, Richelieu and Mahomet. The cat of Mahomet was named Muezza, and for this worthy animal he showed the highest considera tion. One day the cat fell asleep on the wide sleeve of the prophet's coat. Mahomet had a business engagement, but he could not dream of disturbing Mue?za. At last, as the matter became pressing, this good natured prophet cut the Bleeve off his coat, went about his business, and left Muezza to repose. Chateaubriand thought, and justly, that the independence of the cat was one of its most remarkable features. There is always one who loves and one who lets himself be loved in every affair of the heart, and the cat invariably occupies the later position. And why not? Man has sought the society of the cat, it is not the cat that has sought the society of the man," says Campfluery. It is a natural, comfortable, selfish, in dependent animal, and probably its so ciety is valued because it so obviously and unaffectedly makes the best of this life without pretending to any enthu siasm for humanity.--London News. An Uncommon Love Story. Young Rounceville was very much in love with Ida Mumfey. Bounce- ville was lovely, dressed well, danced gracefully, and, more than all, was an excellent talker, being famous for his brilliant and entertaining conversation. He had not yet proposed to the young lady, but in orde>- to meet her at one party gave up another very large and brilliant one at Wedgewood Hendrick's, at which Mr. Prodder was present. Prodder had always s;iid that Kounce- ville was a good fellow, but could not afford to marry, and positively forbade his daughter to become interested in the young man. At the party just mentioned Bounce- ville determined to offer himself to Miss Ida, tell her frankly that he was poor, and leave his fate in her hands. When he had spoken to her alone in a little side-room, and she replied by putting her hand on his shoulder, he knew that he had lost nothing by his candor. Just then the couple heard Prodder and Mumfey in low conversation out side the alcove. "All there is about him is just this," Prodder said. "I was telling young Perk I wished I cpuld hire some bright young fellow like himself to come to my wife's birthday pasty and stir up the stupid folks a little. He named Rounceville, and I could hire him at $25 a night, that being his regular business. He's gone back on Mrs. Hendrick to-night, and lost $25 just to see your daughter. What can you think of such a fellow?" "Why I think he must care a good deal for the girl," exclaimed Mumfey. "When I was a young fellow I cared more for $25 than all the girls alive." As soon as the conversation ceased for a moment the young man turned toward the girl and whispered: "It is all true," and Ida threw her arms around Bounceville'sneck. "Well, what are you going to do about it ?" the couple heard Prodder ask. "I'm going to say 'yes,' if he asks me for my daughter," said Mnmfey, "and I'm going to offer him a half interest in my business. Youug fellows that can make themselves agreeable, even when they are paid for it, are hard to find, and those that care more for a decent girl than they do for the upper-crust society and a $25 job are still scarcer." --Exchange. A Family Broil. "What's the matter love," said Mr. Merricus to his wife as she appeared at the breakfast table. "I spilled the hot water and got a boil on my hand." " "iv thought you looked s-fry-ted," said the little gentleman looking over the top of his paper; "but then it is the usual pot-luck with a housekeeper." "There you go again with your old poached jokes. Will you never sim mer down ?" "Certainly, my dear, rather than lose your 'steam we will discontinue this little family broil."--Texas Siflings. The Tramp Would Mot Drink. A tramp rang the bell of an up-town flat and the Irish servant responded through the speaking tube: "Who is it, and phwat d'yoes want?" "Will yer pleeze give a poor feller a drink of coffee ?" called baok the tramp pathetically. " Put your mouth to the thrnmpet," responded Bridget, "an' Til pour ye down a drink." The tramp did not reply, but de parted in disgust.--New York Tribune. MODERN education too often covers the fingers with rings, and at the same time cuts the sinews at the wrists. -- Sterling. HTH AUD POINT. "Clawed married he wrote it, HELEN OF TBOT was the first woman who wanted to go to Paris and leave"" ner husband at home. A MARRTED woman says that her hus- band used to rave over her before mar- riage. Now he only raves at her. "LIGHT is gradually breaking--me," remarked the man whoa he" paid a gas ** large as usual.--Merchant Traveler. MEN of intellect stand by their ideas; dissipated men fall by their rye dears, and men with extravagant wives are ruined by their high dears. ,, ' J'k® to give you a piece of my mind, Mrs. Smiggs." "I wouldn't talk of impossibilities, Mr. Smiggs. The V^lc}e,lon sPeuk of too small to b* divided." A NEWMAN youth sent « dollar to a New York firm and roceived a watch, the case of which was made of earthen- ware. He calls it his "crocky-diaL'%» Newman Independant. A REPORTER asked a Chinaman if |Hi expected to marry. The wicked heathen made answer: "Me mallee? No, sir. Mallee no fnnnee; blette funnee single man, alle same Melican man." "No, JTY son, you shouldn't jump at conclusions. The prima donna doesnt ride in A special car because nobody will ride in the same coach with her. It is because she prefers to ride that way*** that's all." ' f.\t • Up Into tbe apple tree > vn? Gaily he bounds; - •' f or not a sonl is in slcht, r ' _As he oontlnnonslv looked rMnd. But ere he can par ako * Of the luscious fruit. . . - " He hears a doprjry growl. And sees a (treat big bo»fc " Underneath upon the eraniiid. --Carl J'relzel'it Weekly. THE late A. T. Stewart, some fifteen years ago, paid $50,000 for an oil paint ing by a foreign artist. There has been a great reduction in the price of art since then. Last week a panorama nearly half a mile long was sold at pub lic sale for $875. One was "high" art and the other was long art. If there were any other differences they were not strikingly apparent, save in price. LIFE AND DEATH. Life 1h the flowei whicii blows, Death Is the withered leaf; Lite is the cr«in as it gr'.ws. Death is tho garnered .sheaf; , Life is the hlazine (ire. Deat h in the a- h irrown oold; Life if the k'litteri itr spire. Death is the ruin old;. " Life in the whistling gale, Death Is the calm repose; Life's the continued tale, Death is the story's close; Life IS the flowing streun. Death the mysterious deep; Li'e isa walking dream, Death is the long, lust sleep. --Texas Sif tine a. A MAINE man broke off his engage- • ment to marry a girl alleging that "She couldn't cook," whereupon she declared that she "could cook herrings" and she added "you know darned well them's all you can afford to pay for." If, as the young man asserts, she couldn't cookt there may be good grounds for him to break the engagement, but if, as she de clares, she may feel thankful that he backed out. It is about an even stand off, taking the words of the interested parties as a base on which to form judg ment.--Peck's Sun. A COLORED man was hanging around one of the opera-houses in a manner to show that he was deeply interested in what was going on inside, and a gentle man finally said to him : "Why don't .you go in ? Under the Civil-Eights bill you can take a seat in tho*parquet-cir cle. " " Yes, sah! I knows all "bout dat, sail!" was the reply. "Under Cibil- Rigkts bill I ken take a seat in the house; but under the present strain in my finances I couldn't buy two shingles if hull opera-houses were sellin' for ten cents apiece, sah.--New York Inde pendent. THE superintendent of a certain rail road called up a conductor one day and said to him: "So, sir, I understand you passed a man over our line recently on your own authority. Is it true, sir?" "Yes, sir, it is." "Didn't you know, sir, that you were violating the regula tions?" "Yes." "Then, sir, why did you do it, I shoftld like to ask?" "Well, Captain, you see I got so dang lonesome riding back and forth every day all by myself, that I gave a friend of mine a pass just for company." TI4 conductor was looking for a job th next day.--Merchant Traveler. ^ Unruled Ambition. An enthusiastic artist, desiring to paint a storm on the sea, pushed his boat far out on the deep, and when last seen was painting the very wave which engulfed him. That this man was a fool is self-evident. The means he em- * ployed defeated the end he sought. He sacrificed his life to a passion which, if properly restrained, would have been innocent and even praiseworthy, but which, being inordinate, destroyed him. Does our judgment condemn this pain ter ? If it does, it illustrates its own soundness. But does it not at the softie time censure a multitude of living men ? What is this painter but a typical man, illustrating the folly of thousands who have surrendered themselves to the control of an inordinate ambition to be rich, or to be pre-eminent in society, or in political or in ecclesiastical life? What other interpretation than that such a surrender has been made by vast numbers can one give to those illegiti mate methods which havo taken posses sion of the great marts of trade, which so largely characterize our political elections, and which in some small de gree manifest themselves in ecclesiasti cal circles"? Ambition in church or State, when curbed by Christian princi ples, may be innocent and even praise worthy ; but when it exalts itself into a ruling passion, tramples on the claims of God and humanity and seeks money, honor, office or power as an end, it be comes a deadly and dangerous sin, des tructive of character and fatal to its victim's immortal interests. Our painter is the fitting type, both of his folly and his fate.--Exchange. Little Foiks' Definitions. A writer in a juvenile magazine gath ered a number of dictionary words as defined by certain small peeple, of which the following seotn to be genuine: "Dust--Mud with the juice squeezed out. Fan--A thing to brush warm off with. Ice--Water that staid out in the cold and went to sleep. Monkey--A very small boy with a tail. Pig--A hog's little boy. Salt--What makes your potatoes taste bad when you don't put any on. Snoring--Letting off sleep. Wakefulness--Eyes all the time coming unbuttoned." YIRTFE will catch as well as vice by contact; and the public Btock of honest* manly principle will daily accumulate ̂ Burke. SLOTH, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears, while the key often used is always bright*-'Franklin,