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' st lesfenr v'OAMntT, lehMk. ikfVfiwbrea ... k* tartes breath hia hair; f>M:' i'. ( •yiviu^hear himtpeak- + [wwald but only know ,ttaroiifh«&fcU'weary lift, he yean long Ago, i«UM--hi# wife! lw*Mfe Marat his tMk, WbaattM broad toabeuM flrifr ligty mi? hia u; Xwateh him till the evening lays her mask Upon the face Of Day; and in the gloom He Mm hia pencil down and silent sits. An* >«aa« his chin upon his hands and Jis Vow well 1 know what memory roand mm flits t liMditiahbtjM, > | And when his pencil's skill BM aometimes wrought a touch of happy Sit X aee his face with sudden gladness fill; X see him turn with eager lips apart To bid me come and welcome his 8|toe«M; And then he droops and throws hia brush aside; Ob! if my darling could only guest That she is near who diea. • j ( Sometimes I fancy, too, / That he does dimly know it--that be feeli Some influence of love pass thrilling through Death's prison bars, the spirit's bonds and seals ; Some dear companionship around him still; Some whispered blessing, faintly breathed caress, Hie presence of a love no d«tth can kill Brightening his loneliness. Ah, but it cannot he 1 f/ The dead are with the living--I am here; But he, my living low, he cannot see ; 4 ; His dead wife, though she cling to him so near. I seek his eyes ; I press against his cheek; X hear Mm breathe my name in wailing tone; He calls me--calls his wife--I cannot speak, He thinks he is alone. , Vhis is the bitterness of death!/ To know he loves me, pines and yearns for me; To see him, still be near him, feel his breath ' Fan my sad cheek, and yet \ am not free To bid him feel, by any faiutcst touch, That she who never left his side in Vite-- 9bt who so loved hjm, whom he lovea ao much-- ' Xl with him still--his wife.. A MEMORY OF BOYHOOD. "BY A (GBAT-HAIBED) TICONDEROGA BOT. bad feorosnal beats in tow,two on etfch Bide." We pusad the first safely, bat I saw we couid not the second. "Boys!" I shouted, "stand up!" "Jump for your lives!" Quick as thought we sprang to our feet, I had to be last, as it was my duty to steady the boat as long as possible,--andkjust'as the second canal boat struck onr little craft and drew her under its pieat side #* ctioght her rail and sprang on board. Ourescape seemed almost miraculous, especially in Robert's case, who caught the rail by but three fingers of one hand, and was drawn up by the other beys. Boy-like, forgetting the personal peril, I ran at the stern of the canal-boat to en- dearer to secure my precious broadcloth, only to see our boat floating out into the darkness full of water. We reported at once to the captain of the steamer, who landed us in a snort time at my uncle's hotel again. We went in im­ mediate search of Horatio Baldwin, the old ferryman, and asked his advice in re­ gard to our b°at, arui the best means of returning to the Pavilion. His boat was soon at our service, and with one question as <o our position when the steamer struck us, and one glance at the direction of the wind, he told us which way the boat had probably drifted, and where we would be likely to find he*. Taking his bearings, he rowed directly to the spot, and soon found it, floating, full of water, with my coat streaming out in %he water from one of the row-locks. We were soon safe again at tht> Pavilion, but our breakfast-table story was a more serious one than we had anticipated telling, though there was certainly abundant rea­ son for thankfulness that it was not moie so. Our preservation was truly remark­ able, and as I said before. Lake Champlain has one association which I x#call without a shudder. Thirty years ago my boyhood's home-- Fort Ticonderoga, New York--was no less historic ground than it is to-day. Born within sight of the rugged ruins of the old fort itself, my boyish feet knew every rood of ground, climbed every rock and moun­ tain in the vicinity before I WAS 10 years old, while the stories of the scenes which had been enacted there were so familiar that I almost felt that I had taken a part in them. I seemed to see, again, the battle between the French and the English, where two thousand of Abercrombie's men were piled in the trench surrounding the fort. Many a time I thought I could hear Ethan Allen with his "Green Mountain Boys" -- my grandfather was one of them--demanding the surrender of the fort "in the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress," and my grandfather's blood thrilled in my veins at the memory. Aeain and again, as I stood on Mount Defiance, I saw in imagination the cannon of Burgoyne overlooking the garrison be­ low, and pictured to myself the harried re­ treat of St. Clair to the Vermont ahore of Lake Champlain. The blue waters of the lake itself had mirrored many a picture--now peaceful, Bow war-clouded, from the history of our country "familiar as household words" to me, in my trips up and down its sunny waters. It is surely no wonder that our American Scott should choose the scenery of Lakes Huricon and Champlain as ; a background for some of his most charming novels. So dear were these scenes to me that in after years, when my parents had removed to another home, i was accus­ tomed to make yearly pilgrimages to my boyhood's Mecca, not infrequently accom­ panied by some of my schoolmates and It was on one of these excursions, when onr numbers were unusually luge, that I met with an adventure to which I cannot, ••en now, refer without a shudder. "J There were twenty or more of oft VNnpany, and we planned to spend Jpvetal days in and about the classic ground 4f the eta fort, rambling over the rocks penciled indelibly with the story of pur forefathers' struggle for liberty. Eight miles from Granville to the lake, In wagons, made the first stage of our iowney; there we took the steamer Bur- lington, (a name familiar to all frequenters of that region) and were landed at Port Ticonderoga in two or three hours. The Pavilion House was then a fine hotel, and we made it our headquarters, going out every day on long rambles, drives, or picnics. The second night found all the girls thoroughly tired put, Sod glad to seek their rooms at an early hour. But the bright water under the mel­ low moonlight was too beautiful for "us boys" to leave, and the rippling of the water on the shore gently rocking a pretty row-boat, tied at the landing, sounded a challenge it was not in boys' hearts to re­ fuse. Six of us decided to go down the lake about two miles to Larrabie's Point where my uncle had just erected a new hotel-- wtay there an hour or two, and return, and so furnish an item for breakfast-table gos- •eip. Charlie Smith took the oars. (He's Bon. C. B. now, and getting too rheumatic *o row a boat); near him sat Robert Adams, <hB, too, is a grave D. D. now, entirely fast such undignified frolics). Henry alkenburg, Dr. Witt Clinton Baker (chil- -dren are named for modern heroes now), and George Carleton, dear old boys, I've lost all track of their whereabouts, but if they see this little sketch they ' will re­ member the smaller Smith who'sat at the helm that moonlight July night, on Lake Champlain. My uncle gave us so eheerv a welcome that our stay was prolonged beyond our first intention, and "Behind a cloud the moon withdrew--in woe," •not perhaps at our delay, but leaving the lake black and dark, as if she were angry With os. We felt no fear, however, and with ahout and song we soon glided over "The smooth lake's level brim." Charlie and I changed places, and 1 took off my coat (my first broadcloth, and ihe tenderness with which I regarded it •«an only be appreciated by the old boys, who were boys when I was), and bent to 4he oars with all my strength. As we left the landing we could dis­ tinctly see the flashing lights and hear the ^rambling engine of a large steamer. I, of oourse, had my back to her, and trusted to the others to keep a "lookout, and. warn me Of danger--as I generally held the post of responsibility from being most-familiar with the country. • It soon seemed to me that we were rap­ idly approaching the steamer, and I re­ marked that she must be coming toward «». "No!" they all stouted, "she's ahead •of MM, hut we're gaining on her! We'll -soon overtake her!" For a few moments this quieted my fears, --^^the noise of the engine and the gleam ~ lights on the water became so dis- • I started from my seat and looked me', to convince nfyielf that I was tlirmy impression. - * r • _ m tetoat I sew, to my* horror, that steamer was bearing directly down UfMkt tts at a rate of ten miles an hour, <aadihe appearance of that vessel, as she looked to me at that moment, is as vivid as « pathtinffi before me now, The great dark hulk, the flying sparks, the huge columns •of smoke lit up by a lurid glare from the Ares, the swaying, gleaming lights like 'horrible -eyes in the surrounding darkness, made her seem like some jnonster from the infernal regions breathing out fire and " smoke, pushing upon us in mad fury, bent npon onr destruction. It diA not take another instant to see that she was within a few. rods of us, and with all my strength I turned our little craft to «seape her. But we were just then oppo­ site Willow Point where Col. Ethan Allen landed hie troops; as we rounded the Point the etoamer followed in our wake, and as I agate attempted to turn our boat my oar paaed her bow and we shot past her. - •Bare a .new honor awaited us, for die • Unhappy Homes. ' In a oourse of sermons to young wo­ men, given recently by Rev. Smith Baker of Lowell, we find the following excellent advice: The young wife should manifest an interest in her husband's plans and •work. His success is yours. His failure is yours. Deny yourself to help him. A selfish, vain, frivolous, pleasure- seeking wife, who is anxious to dress well, go to amusements, and to appear more than she is, and who goes into hysterics, who is disappointed and cries at every little thing, who thinks she must be supported--God pity her hus­ band. She may be affecticnate and sweet and understand French, and sing like a bird, but she is a dead weight, a clog to her husband; less help than the kitten which plays at his feet. Ah, the men who are kept poor, yea, made poor, by wives whose highest idea of wifehood is to be petted! They were always babies, but when a baby be­ comes a wife she is a simpleton. Have your husband feel you are his partner, and are willing to live as he is able until you can afford something better. Study self-control You will need it. Nine times out of ten he will try your patience, will be careless and pro­ voking, or cross, or mean, or negligent, or incompetent, or lazy, and here comes the temptation to speak out; but don't do it. Don't scold. Don't criticise. Don't reply back. A wife who is con­ stantly saying, "Don't put your feet in that chair;" "don't leave your boots there;" "don't wipe on that towel;" "don't soil that table-cloth;" "don't bring in that mud;" "don't tear that tidy," "don't put your hands on that door;" "don't make so much noise when you eat;" "don't leave your coat on the sofa;" "don't be out late"--such a Vife will cool down and freeze up the most ardent man's love. If a man is cross and scolds, do not reply back, but let him pour out all the blue ugliness there is in him, and take no notice of it; for nothing makes a man so mad as to have a woman take no notice of his scolding, and nothing will shame and conquer him sooner. Never reply back, and soon there will be noth­ ing to reply to. It is not strange some honest men go to the bad. They work hard for small pay, and are not perfect. When they come home, they are found fault with before the cluldren, criticised before company, told how much better other people are doing, and it is grumble, complain, worry, and fret; "I wish we could have this, or that, or the other." It is no wonder such men spend their evenings away from home. One-half of the men who become dissi* pated after marriage, and one-half the men who are untrue to their wives, are tempted to it by unhappy homes. Un- happy homes are not only the result o{ sin, but fretful homes are the occasioq of sin. Not contention, but self-con­ trol, is a wife's greatest power. - i REMINISCENCE ̂ BY BEN: PRRLET NOU, Some of the young European attaches at Washington are good boxers, but the French are also versed in the savante, an art of self-defense and of offence to others, which is quite as effective and quite as much of an art as boxing. Sul­ livan would denv it equality in noble­ ness. Instead of the fist and arm, the immediately efficient instrument* are the foot and leg, which are employed for tripping and striking the adversary with curious slight and force. A master of the art who handles his legs scien­ tifically will trip down or up an unprac- ticed man in a twinkling of the tibia, or by a peculiar, swinging movement by which the weight of his body is lent to the blow, deal a stunning stroke with his foot on the ribs or even the head of his opponent. The Moon Story, which appeared in the fall of 1835 m the columns of the New York Sun, was the most gigantic newspaper hoax ever perpetrated. It was known that Sir John Herschel had gone to the Cape of Good Hope, to make observations with new instru­ ments of extraordinary power. Then there appeared ft series of papers de­ scribing what Sir John had discovered. They purported to be copied from the pages of a supplement to the Edinburg (Scotland) Journal of Science, exolu-; sive copies of which had been received at the Sun office. It was known that the atmosphere of the Cape of Good Hope is unequalled for purity, and of course has corre­ sponding facility of celestial observa­ tion, and when it was stated, what no­ body among us cculd undertake to deny, especially as it was said to be confirmed by actual observation, that the great object-glass of the astrono­ mer's chief telegraph was a lens of seven-ton weight, no great wonder was felt if the results from its use were un­ exampled. It was said, then, in the alleged report of the "great discover­ ies," that so great was the magnifying power of this instrument (42,000 times) that it could impart to objects at the dis­ tance of the moon a degree of visibility equal to that enjoyed by objects on our earth not more than one hundreds yards off. This put it within Sir John'B power to view, not only the larger class of succession and duration of each. One species oonsumes the fatty acids, an- ogMr abaorbs the fluids, and each dies when its work is ended, whioh is in six or eight weeks in summer. The dale of a murder, the vietim of which was found buried in a garden, was Very accurately estimated. ̂ Hunting Elephants. There are several methods of hunt­ ing elephants in India, all of which are attended with more or less pomp and display, kings and princes taking part in-the sport. The following are the modern methods of hunting, as de­ scribed in Meunier's Great Hunting Grounds of the World: In some places they are pursued with tame elephants, trained for the purpose and very swift. When these have come up with one, the hunter throws, with much dexterity, a noose of very stout cord, in such a way that the wild ani­ mal finds himself caught by the foot. He falls, and they strap him down be­ fore he has time or opportunity to rise. They then fasten him between two strong tame elephants, who beat him with their trunks if he is at all refrac­ tory, and compel him to walk with them to the stables. In Ceylon an elephant hunt is a very important affair. The government as­ sembles a great number of Europeans and Cingalese, who meet in the forest where these animals are to be found. All these hunters form a vast circle, which they gradually narrow, advanc­ ing and shouting. The frightened elephants have but one side to fly, and there is found the "redan," into which they are forced to enter. This redan is nothing less than a great circle of stakes, terminating in sort of narrow neck; once entered into which, the elephants can no longer return. In order to force them to en­ ter, shouts are inrceased, and burning torches are thrown before their eyes; then their fears are redoubled, and they rush into the trap which encloses them. The first care after the capture is to tame them. This is managed by placing one or two tame elephants near the opening, by which the wild ones are made to pass out, tied together, as we have said already. Hunger on the one hand and blows from the trunks of their docile companions on the other, of natural objects in the n^on? but to 8°2Hinspire them with resignation. The Reality of (Renins. j Yes, genius will work; it is impelled "to scorn delights and live laborious days." It "can not else." The fire must out or it will consume its inheritor J Mr. Churchill, in "Kavanagh," just misses being a genius, because he is not driven to perform his work either at a heat or by rational stages. The story of unconscious self-training ever repeats itself; the childhood of Burns and Keats and Mrs. Browning, of James Watt, has a method of finding the pre­ cise nature suited to it. Of course a poor soil, the absence of sunlight, will starve the plant or warp it to some morbid form. But how gloriously it thrives in its true habitat and at its proper season. Time and the man have fitted each other so happily that many ask--as Mr. Howells asks con­ cerning Grant, Bismarck, Columbus, Darwin, Lincoln--who calls such an one a genius? Often, too, as in the cases of at least two of these men, the coincidents are so marked that the ac­ tors lose the sense of their own destiny, and imagine themselves chiefly suited to something quite otherwise from the work to which the very stars of heaven have impelled them But fair aptitude with ceaseless industry and aspiration, never can impose itself for genius upon the world. It will produce Soutlieys in a romantic period and Trollopes in a realistic one. We see the genius of Poe broken by lack of will, and that of Emily Bronte clouded by a fatal bodily disease; but, as against "Wuthering Heights" with its passionate incom­ pleteness, Trollope's entire product stands for nothing more than an exten­ sive illustration of mechanical work against that which reeks with individ­ uality, and when set against the work of true genius reinforced by purpose, physical strength, and opportunity, as exhibited by Thackeray, or Hugo, or Dickens, comparison is simply out of thought Not every mind catches fiTe with its own friction and emits flashes that surprise itself, as in dreams one is startled at things said to him, though he actually is both interlocutor and an­ swerer. Thus Swift, reading his "Tale of a Tub," exclaims: "Good God! what a genius I had when I wrote that book!" Thackeray confessed his de­ light with the passage where Mrs. Crawley, for a moment, adores her stupid husband after his heroic act. "There," cried the novelist, "is a stroke of genius!" It was one of the occasions when, like our autocrat composing "The Chambered Nautilus," he had written "better than he could."---E. C. 8ted- man, in New Princeton Review. . Jt % .MJSSv 'a see with ease the dwellings, animals, and even persons of the Lunarians, which he accordingly described. The descriptions of Luna scenery all-be­ lieved. There was so much versimili- tude, such shrewd and apparently ac­ curate scientific phraseology, that scientists found it no easy task why they should not give the story credence. But when there came descriptions of the web-wings appended to the favorite inhabitants of our satellite, constituting them in appearance a sort of man-bat, strong scepticism of the whole story was manifested. Edgar Allan Poe, the poet, speaking of the immense success of the "moon hoax," states "that not one person in ten discredited it, and (strongest point of all) the doubters were chiefly those who doubted without being able to say why--the ignorant, those uninformed in astronomy, people who would not believe because the thing was so novel, so entirely 'out of the usual way.' A grave professor of mathematics in a "Virginia college told me seriously that he had no doubt of the truth of the whole affair! The hoax was circulated to an immense ex­ tent ; was translated into various lan­ guages, and was, upon the whole, de­ cidedly the greatest hit in the way of sensation, of merely popular sensation, ever made by a similar fiction either in America or Europe." The sceptics thought that they would discover the truth or fiction of the mysterious story by the effect it would produce in Eu­ rope, but the event was by no means so distinct for them or so unfavorable to the credit of the story as might have been supposed. It was read all over Europe with as keen an interest as it had been here, and was made the sub­ ject of a certain kind of discussion, even in the French Academy of Sciences, when the great Arago at length took it upon himself, chiefly, as he said, out of respect to the name and honor of his friend, Herschel, to put an extinguisher upon it. Herschel himself was first made acquainted with the liberty that had been taken with his name by its being sent him amongst a bundle of miscellaneous New York pa­ pers, obligingly furnished him by Caleb Weeks, who had gone out from the United States to the Cape for a lot of giraffes and other African animals for his menagerie. He saw immediately, of course, the nature of the thing, treat­ ing it good-naturedly. James Gordon wedding procession outside of the Bennett was the first to charge the Sun I church, unless it be the procession of They are also taken by pitfalls. A path is chosen which is used many times in the year by the elephants, and which probably serves as a route in go­ ing from the jungles to some spring in the mountains. Across these paths several pits are dug about twenty feet wide, and fifteen to twenty feet deep, and which are then covered over with branches and turf. However admira­ bly these pitB may be concealed, it does not often happen that the elephants fall therein. Not only do they try with their feet with the greatest care any ground that looks suspicious, but they make constant use of their trunks to prove the solidity of the soil, or to clear away everything that appears to hide a trap. It is not an easy matter to draw an elephant out of one of these pits, and it can only be done by the aid of a tame elephant; otherwise it would be necessary to subdue the animal by hunger before thinking of getting him out. Any one getting within reach of the trunk of an elephant just taken would do so at the risk of his life; but, singularly enough, a driver mounted on a tame elepeant's neck can ap­ proach the novice with impunity, and tighten or slacken the noose round his neck or feet. The cords placed round the legs sometimes cut them to the bone, and leave marks which endure for the ani­ mal's lifetime. No nourishment is given him for several days. *This deH privation of food Boon brings down his courage, and then it is that his ap­ pointed driver insures the friendly rec­ ognition of the elephant by bringing him food and unbinding his limhu, French Wedding Fetes. A notable feature of French life is the wedding procession in the open air. When the French plunge into matri­ mony they show no shyness over it; on the contrary, they take the plunge in the most ostentatious fashion. They wish all the world to stand by and ad­ mire their heroism; and lest the world should not take any trouble in the mat­ ter, they sally forth from the church or Mairie, dressed in hymeneal, garb, and spend the best part of two days prome­ nading in public and attracting all the attention they can to themselves. The custom is general among the masses of the people. Among the higher classes it is needless to say that there is no wedding with the fabrication of a hoax, and the inventor of the story, who was editor of the paper, had to be very adroit in dealing with the situation in such a manner as to conduct the concentrated indignation and disappointment of the public away. True or false, it wonder­ fully increased the circulation of the Sun, but Mr. Bichard Adams Locke,an Englishman, who was the author of the hoax, never wrote anything afterward which created much sensation. It took a long time to convince the public that it had been deceived, and it was said that some spinsters at Springfield, Mass., took the story in such good earnest that they commenced the estab­ lishment of a missionary society for the conversion of the Lunarians. President Lincoln used to write long letters to his military commander, and copy them himself. Just after Gen. Joe Hooker had taken command of the Army of the Potomac, a letter was penned, and while the President yet retained it in his possession, an inti­ mate friend happened to be in his Cab­ inet, one night, and the President read it to him, remarking: "I shall not read this to anybody else, but I want to known how it strikes you." During the following April or May, while the Army of the Potomac lay opposite Freder­ icksburg, this friend accompanied the President to Gen. Hooker's headquar­ ters on a visit. One night Gen. Hooker, alone in his tent with this gen­ tleman, said: "The President says that he showed you this letter," and he then took out that document, which was closely written on a sheet of letter pa- Eer. The tears stood in the General's right blue eyes as he added: "It is such a letter as a father might have written to his son. And yet it hurt me." Then, dashing the water from his eyes, he said: "When I have been to Bichmond, I shall have this letter printed." But "Fighting Joe" never reached Bichmond, and. it was sixteen years before the letter, which sharply criticised him, found its way into print Fixing the Date of Death. •By a study of the organisms which work upon corpses, M. Meguin claims to be able to determine the date of death--a matter which is of great im portance. In a body which had lain in a cellar for a year, five different species of acarina were traced, with the order carriages, Those who wish to see one of these corteges des noces will have no diffi­ culty in doing so if they are in Paris at this season, which, above all others, is the one in which mankind is prone to marry. They have only to spend an afternoon at St. Cloud, Clamart, Men- don, or any of the suburban rural re­ treats and they will be sure to see at least one noce, and they may see half a dozen. A sudden clatter of tongues tells me that one is coming. A pro­ cession of twenty, thirty, or fifty people walking two and two, is passing near, headed by a young woman dressed in white, with a wreath of orange flowers on her head, and a young man in a "claw-hammer" coat, with a great deal of shirt showing, a white neck-tie, a tall hat, and with his hands encased in white gloves. A bouquet in the button­ hole completes the invariable costume of the bridegroom. Those who follow are relatives and intimate friends. Among them may often be seen an old couple--the man in a hat of the bygone chimney-pot pattern, and the woman in a great white cap--an elaborate work of art in the way of starching and iron­ ing. They are the parents of the bride or bridegroom, and sometimes there are two such couples. If there is one seri­ ous face in the whole party it is that of the bride. She feels that the eyes of tie world is quizzically fixed upon her, and that everybody is saying, "0 la belle mariee!" or something less pleas­ ant As a rule, however, her face, like the bridegroom's, is radiant with satis­ faction, and her shrill laughter pierces the air when her ears catch the latest joke from the low comedian of the party--and it is sure to include one. When wit is wanting, buffoonery sup­ plies its place. While the noce is prom­ enading--fallowing the bride and bride­ groom as sheep follow their leader, a feast is being prepared at a neighboring restaurant, which displays along its front the words, "Salons pour noces et festins." At about 6 o'clock the pro­ cession enters the restaurant and the rest of the evening is spent in feasting, dancing, and uproarious merriment. This program, without the marriage ceremony, is repeated the next day at some other place. But it is the rule there for the bride not to promenade in white, but in black silk.--Home Jour* naU Ik* ClffCMd Industry. Cigar-and gathering, which ia prac­ ticed more or less in evexy large town, "•4industry. The man who picks up thrown-away cigar-ends does not do so to smoke but to sell them. The head­ quarters Of this curious trade is probably in Paris, where nearly everyone smokes cigars, and where the cleanliness of the streets and the numerous cafes--the habitues of which, seated at the round tables on the pavement, are invariably smokers--facilitate the industry. The Temps gives some investigating particu­ lars regarding the life of the cigar-end gatherer, and the mercantile value of his "goods." He begins work on the boulevards very early in the morning before the pavements are swept, and continues to 7 o'clock in summer and 9 in winter. Then he goes to his lodg­ ings ii\ the outskirts of the town to pre­ pare his merchandise. He cuts the ends of the cigars into small pieces, and spreads them out on a newspaper. This is tabac gros. He rubs the ashes off cigarettes, removes the papers, and spreads them out in the same way. This is tabac fin, Ashe subssitsfrom day to day on his gatherings, he must dry and sell his stock at once. So he places it in the sun to dry and reduces it to pow­ der, putting it where it will get a cur­ rent of air. When dried he rolls it up in little packets and makes for the Rue Galande, in a poor district of the Latin quarter. Groups of from a dozen to fifteen may be seen on the pavements trying to sell their little packets to passers-by. Workingmen stop and fill their pipes, and there are regular customers who will send for the day's supply. The wine merchants in poor localities buy wholesale to retail to their clientele. The tariff is as follows: Tabac gros--ends of cigars rough and uncut--Hi pence and 1 shilling per pound; the same cut small, 1 shilling 3 pence, to 1 shilling 5-J- pence per pound; when sold in retail the pound is divided into forty packets at a halfpenny each; tabac fin--cigarettes cleared of paper and ashes--2 shillings pence per pound wholesale and 2 shillings 61 pence retail; ends of cigars, specially selected for chewers, are sold at 1 shilling 7 pence per pound. The weight of the packets is invariably judged by a vued'wil. In case of a dispute an appeal is made to the mar- chande des quatresaisons--the French coster. In addition to the small wine merchant the cigar-end gatherer has another good client--the small florist He does not buy to smoke, to retail, or to fumigate, but to water flowers with nicotine water. This, it seems has the effect of making, them suddenly burst into a blaze of bloom, and also makes them--after the buyer has admired them for a day or two--as suddenly fade and die. There are only one or two centers for the sale of this kind of tobacco in Paris. After the stock has been sold the cigar-gatherer takes to the boulevards in the evening again. He also frequents railway stations, theaters, and other places. There are about a hundred poor creatures engaged in the cigar-end industry in Paris. They are too proud to beg, shrink at the idea of the hospital, and are not down low enough to steal. The police, after hav­ ing found that they are harmless, are not hard upon them. They earn only about a franc a day, and when an op­ portunity offers are glad to leave the tobacco business. There is another class of cigar-end gatherers which the writer in the Temps does not tell us about. These are the waiters in the cafes, who pick up the remainders of cigars every night and sell them when they collect a pound or two. In Paris nothing is allowed to waste. mouth organ?" "Neither; my neighbor, Joshua Riley, was " "I know; Mr. Rilev was walking across a pasture field when he was sur­ prised by seeing a monster black snake engaged in ripping a board off the side of a barn, with which to fan itself. Mr. Riley is a man whose word is vouched for by the best citizens of Pine County, and cannot be doubted for an instant. That's it, isn't it?" "No, not exactly, Mr. Riley n "Yes that's it. Mr. Riley was gath^ ering eggs in his barn when he dis­ covered a singular looking reptile, spotted yellow and pea-green, which had hatched out a brood of chickens and was scratching around to find grub for them. That happens every year about this time, but-1 expected it a day earlier." "But that isn't it--;--w "'Tisn't eh? Why, it must be that Mr. Riley recently killed a large ser­ pent, which he cut open and found that it had swallowed a circular saw, which was still running, as well as a coil of barbed fence-wire and a set of harrows, which he thought had been stolen from him. In any event, sir, it would be well for Mr. Riley to drink from a hydrant for a while, until he can look at a coil of garden hose without think­ ing he sees it swallow the well-tub and hitcliing-post." <- "But " "Excuse me, this is my busy day. Tell Mr. Riley not to show up here un­ til he has found a snake that knows the Declaration of Independence by heart, and can drink cold tea through a straw. Good day."--Jersey City Argus. How Sioux Juveniles Break Ponies. The Sioux, like many other Indians of the plains, are bred from infancy to handle horses. When but papooses they are hung on the saddle bow, and I have frequently seen them, when not more than five or six years of age, girls as well as boys, riding their ponies like mad at* full gallop. The manner of subduing a pony I have often witnessed on the plains and one who now visits the Sioux Indians in their Dakota reservation may find children similarly employed in break­ ing colts. The boys and girls take together a young colt when only three or four months old and begin with him. A lariet is tied Indian fashion with a slip noose to the under jaw. A small bundle is then placed upon the colt's back, or the children arrange a pair of light trevice poles over the colt's shoulders, letting the ends drag on the ground; then the poles are tied to his back, and attached to a wicker-work platform or basket, and a weight is placed in it. Sometimes in place of a weight, three or four dogs are placed in the wicker and very often the chil­ dren get in. The colt runs and plunges and kicks in all directions, then lies down and rolls over. Sometimes three or four children will climb upon his back, and by and by such a tumbling scene is witnessed as would make every boy and girl reader cry with laughtert-- the children flying one way and the blankets the other. ffloderik Corinth. With all due regard lor its saeient history sad tone, one must ooni^ss that modern Corinth is a dreary hole; as a city, that is. Its bouses are for the most part wooden sheds; Its streets and highways are o# fatiguing sand. Of late, moreover, a spirit of improvement has brooded over the place; avenues, squares, and boulevards are to be dis­ covered. Young trees are set in rows along the footpaths. Houses of brick, stone, and plaster, two stories in height, with upper balconies and gay green jalousies, have recently been built, and are building. So that a traveler, ignor­ ant of geography and history, ac­ quainted with the young towns of the United' States and our colnies, set down in the midst of Corinth, would infal­ libly suppose that he was in one of those hamlets of the New World which have no past, but very lively hopes about the future. Let not the traveller, however make the same mistake as Chateaubriand. That celebrated mstn, landing at Cor­ inth and failing to discover at flr»t sight the seven columns of a temple which were then, as now, all that the city could show of its old magnificence, forthwith concluded' that they "were carried away by the English." Lord Elgin has much to account , for in the denudation of Greece, but he has not interfered * with Corinth. The Doric columns are still there, some four miles from the new city--this being the dis­ tance separating old Corinth from Corinth the new, railway terminus, port of communication with the West, and unappreciated stepping-stone to Athens the Great Wishing to see what is to be seen in Corinth the new, I engaged the ser­ vices of a stout youth who could talk French, and together we walked up and down the streets. Certainly the wayfarers were the most interesting sights of the city. There were troops of shepherds from the Morea, mahog­ any-brown as to their faces, hands, and naked legs; colossal in build; stolid and silent; clothed in thick white wool­ len stuff, and holding big crooks in their hands. Many Albanians were also to be seen, with great moustaches curling to their eyes, wearing white cotton shirts, short and stiff like a girl's ball dress, loose jacket of gray colors, red turbans, white stockings to their thighs, and capacious shoes with a big woollen knob on the ex­ tremity where they turned upward. Not a whit less picturesque were the well-to-do country farmers. These, unlike the city Greeks, do not find1 themselves called upon to acknowledge the march of civilization by setting aside their native costume and wearing the mournful broadcloth and tall hats of Western usage. In their crimson caps, blue vests covered with a multi­ tude of buttons, their short embroid­ ered jackets, wide blue trousers, ("bags," they might veritably be called) and jackboots, they gratify the eye and show off admirablv their own stalwart frames. Corinth iias also among its two or three thousand inhabitants its Eroper proportion of children--little rown mortals clothed wholly in blue --and a quite disproportionate number of foreigners in the persons of Italians, Smyrniots, etc., who live in a country they are forever abusing. My guide, for instance, was a native of Smyrna. "It is a fool of a poor iflace," said he in criticism of Corinth, and his ridicule of the Greeks was open in the extreme. "See those!" he con­ tinued, pointing to a group of King George's soldiers in fighting habili­ ments, who are drinking raki at a wine­ shop door. "They are men of war!" with an unaffected sneer. 1 "Fine fellows!" I remarked, to en­ courage his outpourings, though he de­ served to be thrashed by one of their corporals for his impudence. ' "Yes, very fine! They run away When they fire the gun," retorted the boy, with a burst of laughter. But whatever modern Corinth lacks, it has a noble situation. The bay is a bold, graceful curve, with a- broad fringe of yellow sand. On both sides of the gulf the mountains rise abruptly as far as the eye can carry along its waters to the west. There was snow on the higher peaks this spring day, and it was cloudy overhead; but beyond and above the mountains of the north shore the golden ridge of Parnassus gleamed under a hidden source of sun­ light. Between Parnassus and the gulf lies Delphi, and though, of course, in­ visible to the eye, one? is not uncon­ scious of it as one looks high at the majestio, serrated crest of the moun­ tain. As for the Acrocorinthus, so much taunted by writers of all ages, and often held to be an unassailable fortress, one may be excused for humil­ iating it. It is a fine rock, some 1,800 feet high, with steep sides and a flat s^jpiuit, for centuries subjected to for- tificapjtoiis. The view from it is superb, with atmospheric permission; but it is no more impregnable than Primrose HilL--Cornhill Magazine. ° i? She Got the Umbrella* f During a rainstorm a gentleman emerged from his club in Piccadilly. It was pouring, so he hoisted his um­ brella and looked about for a cab. He could not see an empty one, but he espied a lady taking shelter in a door­ way, and evidently also waiting for a cab. With true gallantry he made to­ ward her and politely offered to hold his umbrella over her until a cab should pass. The lady agreed to share the hospitable shelter of the umbrella, and so as to get well under it raised the arm nearest the gentleman, and with her hand assisted in holding the umbrella up. Presently an empty four-wheeler passed. It was hailed and pulled up close to where the pair stood. On reaching the cab the gentleman re­ linquished his hold of the umbrella and opened the door. As the lady prepared to enter the cab she lowered the um­ brella, and was about to take it with her when her companion touched it and remarked: "My umbrella." Very softly the lady replied; "Pardon me; mine, I think." The situation was a little awkward. The rain was pelting down and the gentleman did not care to continue wrangling with a strange lady over the ownership of an umbrella. So there was nothing for it but to sur­ render the umbrella and resolve never again to protect a lady in the rain.-- Tfie Argonaut Why the Dog Failed. "Papa, what made you untie the dog last night?" asked Edith, timidly, at the breakfast table. "To protect the gate," replied the old gentleman, sternly. "I--I--don't believe he succeeded in doing it," she returned. "Hey? what do you mean?" and a savage glare darted over the coffee­ pot. "Why, the last I saw of Harry he was taking a tremendous gait up the road, and I thought perhaps--" The old man's groan was so deep that she desisted.--Tid-Bits. A BoXE-APABT-IST--tlM I THE worst of imj A BCNNING acoouxit---* feO#' ^ CAN sing and whistle to lfil'-bnlleta. MODEBX novelists d* not encourage marriage. They make their fpmale characters talk too much. WIFE--You havep't been inside of a ohurch i sinoe we were married--there! Husband--No* a burnt child dreads the fire.--Judge. . .. THE discovery of a soarlet snake Is reported by an Ontario paper.' The man who discovered it had in all prob­ ability been painting the town red. r "GAS you change a five?" asked De Baggs. "I eould if I had a fifre," re­ plied De Kaggs, and now De Baggs wonders what he meant^--Detroit 'Free Press, Young husband (to wife)--Didnt I telegraph you liot to bring your mother with you? Young wife--I know. That's what she wants to see you about. She read the telegram. THIN PARTY--Just returned from Florida, old man!, .Great country to brace a man up! Gained twenty-five pounds in three weeks! Stout Party-- How'd you get there--by mail ?--Pufik. "HATS you read my manuscript Mr. Editor?* "Yes sir." "You found plenty of food tor thought it, 1 imagine." - "An abundance, only it was wretchedly cooked."--Chicago Ledger; SHOPPINO in the country: Clerk--• No ma'am; those are two articles we don't keep; but the oysters I think you will find at the postoffice, and bananas you can get across the way, at the bar­ ber's. IT is one of the singular things in life that we seldom hear of the boy or girl pianist after they arrive at maturity. Perhaps there is some truth after all in the old proverb that bright boys and girls make commonplace men and wo­ men.--Boston Courier. OUR small boy--4 next month--strik­ ing a distressing attitude, with his hand on his abdomen, thus explains to papa what were his sensations when mamma found it necessary to rebuke him very sharply: "It made the feel- badly come all up, fru my tummic !*-- Babyhood. ^ Dr. Busby was asked how lie , 00* trived to keep all his preferments andthe head mastership of Westminster school through the successive and turbulent reigns of Charles I., Oliver Cromwell, Charles II., and James. He replied: "The fathers govern the nation; the mothers govern the fathers; the boys govern the mothers, and I govern the boys.» WHEN Frederick the Great heard of the petitions and remonstrances sent by English towns and counties to the throne he exclaimed: "Ah, why am I not their king ? With a hundred thou­ sand of my troops round the throne and a score or two of executioners in my train I should soon make those proud islanders as dutiful as they are brave, and myself the first monarch in, the universe." LITTLE Mabel, 5 years old, is not sp young but that she has picked up some knowledge of the ways of the world. She said to her mother the other day. after a fit of deep musing: "Say, mamma, who was papa before h» mar­ ried us, anyway?" "Who was papa? Why, he was the same manJ that he is now." "Yes, but what was he to yen? Was he just a man that yott mashed?* --Boston Record. ' »' ; XOVE'S LABOR LOST. The verse I wrote with graceful My dear Elizabeth to pleas«-- ' Full-fraught with deepest depth I calle<l her angel, darling, dove, In-sweetest formti of Dobeonese. -, I I Ming in me'asnxed ecstasies, TChe many charms of toy Elise, I hoped she would not be abova, The verse I wrote; • '-C.Si'ft Alas I they were but pleasantries^ # ̂ I never dreamt by slow degrees , My lines she'd make curl-papers at-- i When too, with such a dainty glome, i «43he took with sweet amenities > The verse I wrote. . , .. --If. M. Levy, in Tid-Bitt. ' 1 ' - Diu DARWIN informs iis that tU reason why the bosom of a beautiful woman is an object of such peculiar de­ light is that all our first pleasurable sensations of warmth, sustenance and repose are derived from this interesting source. This theory had a fair run un­ til some one happened to reply that all who were brought up by hand had de­ rived their first pleasurable sensations from a very different source, and yet not one of all these had ever been known to evince any very raptures* emotions at the sight of a spoon! ^ - About Fair. * % > In a Montana court a suit involving the title to six mining claims was sev­ eral years ago decided by Judge W. in some mysterious way by which he gave. four claims to one side and two to the other. After the decision was an­ nounced an attorney in the case met one of the litigants, an honest old Missourian, and asked Mm what he thought of it. "Wall," he replied, "I think Judge W. did about the fa'r thing. Yer see, thar war four of us an' two o' them. That would be a claim apiece. An' the Judge he guv four claims to us an' two to them, so each man gits a claim. I don't see how he could ha' done much fa'rer than that" But the Judge never enjoyed being joked about the peculiar legal principle! on which he had decided that Detroit Free Press. i The Boy and the Frog. , y|ij|oy Who was Passing a Pond a Frog jump from a Log Among a Mass of Rocks, where he would be safe from' Missiles, and assuming an Injured tone; the lad remarked: v > "Have I ever done you Harm thafe you should thus Avoid me?" "Never," replied the Frog. "Then, why such Action?" "Simply because there can bett»'lNW between us except at my expense." Moral--The Boy Chugged at him, but the Frog Dcdged it--DetrwA Fim Press. • r Sugar in Soap. v ̂ f Many of the finest grades of transpar­ ent soap sold in England do not contain; glycerine, as advertised, but sugar. Sugar seems just as well adapted make transparent soap as glycerine. ^ DEEP in the Arolla glacier of the Alps Prof. Forel. has discovered * natural grotto, which he explored to a distance of about 275 yards. The width of this ice-cavern is from six to thirty yards, and its height from two ft* three yards. 1 ; •_ A NOTED actress declares that slie" cannot live on £4,000 a year. Lots of people are in the same predicament,' but it is because they cannot get the £4,000. J IT is a noticeable fact, and one havftig a moral in it for men, that the smallest ears of corn have the thickest shucks. hV-:- --J- •/lb % '-St j.- '*>r, •» mSmi ' . -s;-.' .. "w#