- «- -\T JpttLTKC, U*»m* PiiWMitr. ILLINOIS. .M® AFTUXD ASTBOXOMT. _ BK ont to see the start ••trMomie bore; there mn two moons new NMIi Jupiter had tour. i thouht of course he'd whisper IOCS' -i. .., Whit fourfold bliss'twould be . IPs Stroll beneath that fourfold Q>90B , Ou Jupiter with me. * ' ' i'X>'[' flfnH when he spoke of Balm's ifSfc ,*• 4 I was Oonvlncod he'd say „ .„ , r ) was the very kind ot thing offer me some day ; ,_i In * tangent off he went #», ̂ *«* ^fpodoublestara. Now'that " ras most RUggestive, so oonl : And quite absorbed I sat. ;,":#ut no, he talked a dreary ; ... Of which the only fraction >W" f » that caught my fancy, I confess ̂' J r ;i Was "mutual attraction." V W 1 I «aid I thought it very queer 3 ". v jAnd stupid altogether, p ' • £JK>r stars to keep ao very near, . *TAM y«t not come together. . At that he smiled, and turned his head; ' thought he'd oaught the notion. / flhmerely bowed good-night and I * Their safety lay in motion. «•OKttary. STRANGER THAN FICTION. BX CHARLES WETHEBILIu thee* are under two JMM," wild the matron of the Fonndliug Hospital, as she looked complacently around on the goodly array of babies of all sizes and complex ions, ranged oft either side of the long nursery. There were babies, plump, rosy, and good-natured, as all babies should be, and pale, fretful, pnny little creatures, who looked as if they were already disgusted with the life upon whioh they had entered; black, blue, and gray-eyed babies, and babies with eyes of very little color at all. XI would seem that the lady addressed, and who was desirous of obtaining one for adoption, would find no difficulty in suiting herself; but either she did not see what she was in search of, or was too bewildered by so many rival claims to be able to make any choice. "Here is a very fine boy-baby," said the matron, pausing in front of a black-eyed fellow, who sat on the knee of its nurse, sucking its fat thumb. "Yes; but I want a gixl, a blonde. Some thing like this." As the matron glanced at-the photograph that was handed her, which was that of a lovely child of not more than two summers, she uttered an exclamation of surprise. "It is the picture of my little girl," said the lady, her eyes filling with tears, "who died a few weeks ago, and whose place I wish to fill, if such a thing be possible." "We have a little girl in the hospital ward," said the matron, "who resembles this picture so strongly that I should think it was taken for her. Both parents are (toad, and, so far as I can learn, there is no one to claim her." The speaker led the way to a cheerful, sunny upper room, where on one of the lit tle cots a beautiful child was sleeping. The resemblance to the picture was very stewqg, and to the bereaved mother it HMwd almost like a revelation from Hearen. "Lilian, darling Lilian!" she cried, bend ing over her. The child must have been dreaming of its mother; the fringed lids Sew open, re vealing eyes blue and wondrously bright, while the little arms went up, with aa eager flattering motion. •a* Mfawima !" fHasping the child to her heart, the lady bust into team, while the matron looked vandatingly from one to the other. "She looks enough like yoa to be war town child." I "She is my own child!" was the tearful; response. "Providence has had com passion on my loneliness and sorrow, aad given mj little Lilian back to me!" Blue-eyed, golden-haired Tilim How ard stood irresolutely at the door of her father's study; the color coming and going in the cheeks, and a look of fear and dis may in the sweet face that was never seen there before. The door being ajar, lb. Howard heard her step, gentle as it was. "Daughter!" Mr. Howard looked gravely and tenderly into the pale, wistful face that confronted him. "My child, you look as if you were sum moned before a stem judge rather than a tender father, who would not knowingly you anything that would promote your true happiness." "Yon have always been very kind to me, papa, until now," said Lilian, bursting into tears. "But. indeed, indeed, I can never be happy without Charlie!" Taking his daughter's hand, Mr. How ard led her to a seat in therecess of one of the windows. ] "Let as talk the matter ovjfr calmly. Yon ars my only child, the PiMe jmd iov of my heart. I have given yonTfay-advantage that wealth can command, and feel that I have a right to expect youto do better than to many a man with neither position nor means to support you in the style to which you have been accustomed. And your mother fully agrees with me." "But, papa, you always seemed to like Charlie until now. You never objected to his coming or my going ont with him be fore." "I like him still; my personal feelings have not changed toward him in the least. But I find his prospects are very different from what I thought they were. I sup posed Mr. Haven to have no family, and thinking BO much of the young man as he seemed to do, a distant relative and all, I thought that he would inherit the larger £art of his property. But he tells me that e has a daughter, who will have every penny of it, which gives the matter quite a •different complexion. It is a little curious that much as he has been here, and as in timate as he has been with all of us, that be never spoke of her." "But why should you cave for money, papa, who have so much?" "You are wrong, Lilian. True, I am the •owner of considerable property, but the ehrinkage in all values has greatly crippled my resources. Go now, my child; I have «ome letters to write. You may be sure that your father has decided wisely. Tell *he young man what I have told you, and let that end the matter." Tying on her hat, Lilian went out for her usual walk; but not even the bright oonshine, and bloom, and verdure of beautiful June day could make her heart less heavy. Her eyes were so blinded by the tears that would come that she nearly tan against an odd-looking, middle-aged man, who came hobbling along the narrow footpath. As he caught a glimpse of the yoong lady's quivering lips and tear-wet lashes, he came to a sudden stop. "Crying, Miss Lilian! What does mean?" Lilian looked into the kind, sympathizing face of the speaker. "Oh, Mr. Haven, papa says that 1 can •ee Charlie only once more; and then only to tell him that we can never, never ' many!" "Does he?" was the grim response. "I think I dull have something to sav about that Do you love Charlie?" •©early!" "And yoa think he loves you?" *1 am sure of it." •Then 1 see no reason why yoa two Miln t marry** Lilian opened her eyes widely. "Yon don't think I oaght to disobey hexft all my imtHu Do you oeuld be happy in a smao, piatniy-rar- nlshed house, with neither #W^aBt»»fine dresses, nor any of the bea«Uf«l things to whioh yoa have been accustomed all your Wit" The golden lashes drooped until they lay quiveringly upon the flushed cheeks. "If Charlie were there." Mr. Haven's face betrayed strange inch strong emotion. "Twenty years ago," he said tremulously, "lips just as sweet spoke to me nearly the same words. As I live, your life shall Hot be blighted as hers was. Cheer up, my child,* he added, "leave the matter to me, and all Willjbe well. I was on my way to your house when you met me. I am going to dine there to-day. Let as go back together." Mr. and Mrs. Howard were too much ac customed to the viigaries of their wealthy and eccentric neighbor, to be any way Surprised at his appearance. He had frequently dined with them in the same unceremonious fashion; his genial And kindly traits of character making him ft great favorite with the family. ' Their after-dinner talk turning upon the improbability of a recently-published story, Mr. Haven said, "I will relate a story, as ftrange as any that can be found in what is called fiction, and whioh is striotly true: "Sixteen years ago yesterday, as it stands Upon the records of a certain orphan asylum in a distant county, a lady, young, fair, and wealthy, went there for the pur pose of obtaining a child to take the place Of one she had just lost. In one of the wards was a lovelv little girl, whose parents had both been killed, as was sup posed, in a railway disaster, and who so strongly resembled her lost darling that her heart went oat towards it at first glance. "She took it away with her, giving it her child's place and name, and her husband, who was absent at the time, has never once suspected that it was not the little one that he kissed at parting, and over whose grave the grass has been growing for many a year. "Six months later the father of this child who had recovered in a measnre from the accident which had made him a cripple for life, called at the asylum to claim her, but only to learn that she had passed as com pletely out of his possession as if the grave had hidden her from his eyes. "The death of a wealthy relative had raised him from poverty to affluence, and he spaired neither money nor pains in his endeavors to find her. But the lady who had taken her from the asylum having given a false name and address, all his efforts were fruitless, and it was not until after the lapse of some years, and by the merest chance, that he obtained a clue which led to the discovery of her where abouts. "She was then a blooming maiden of 15, the inmate of a beautiful and happy home, and the pride and darling of a man for- whom he had a high esteem, and who be lieved her to be his own child. All the father's love sprang up in his lonely heart as he looked upon the sweet face that was the living picture of the wife he had so loved aud mourned, but foreseeing the dis cord and nnhappiness that the enforcement of his claims would occasion, he contented himself by placing her where he could see her occasionally, and watch over her inter ests. "But as time passed on, and she reached the age of eighteen, she proved to be her mothers daughter in heart, as well as form, bestowing it, as that mother did befor her, on a man whose poverty was the only ob jection that could be brought against him. When he found that her happiness was to be sacrificed, he resolved " Here the speaker was interrupted by an exclamation from one of the group. Mrs. Howard bad fainted. During the bustle and confusion that followed Mr. Haven went out upon the lawn, where he was joined, half an hour later, by Mr. Howard. After conversing together a few minutes the two returned to the house, where they found Mrs. Howard and Lilian. Both had evidently been weep ing, bat the countenance of the former was composed though veiy pale. 'Mr. Haven," she faltered, "far the first time my hnabend knows that the child so dear to is both is akin to neither. But yoa are wrong if you think that I intended at first to deceive him. I was among strangers wten my own baby died, and he on a bvsiness tour of several months' dura tion. The two were of nearly the same age, and strangely alike, and on perceiving that my hnsbani saw no difference I de cided to wait nitil she had gained too strong a place in his heart to be easily dislodged; every week's delay nakin? my task mors difficult, until it became some tiling that I found it impossible to do. And, strange as it may sound to you, so closely did Lilian resemble the little one I lost, and so entirely did she take her place in my heart, that I could never make it seem that she was not mine by birth as well as by affec tion." "I can give you the key to this," said Mr. Haven, "as well as to Lilian's strong re semblance to you and your child. Have you forgotten your twin sister, who bore the same name, and who was discarded by her family for marrying beneath her, as they called it? She was my wife, and the mother of your Lilian; for I have not come to disturb the relation that has so long sub sisted between you, but to see that she is not defrauded of woman's dearest right, the right to wed the man who has not only won her heart, but is worthy of it. There ie many a millionaire who is not so rich in all that constitutes true manhood as Charles Harlowe. My gentle Lilian was nearly heart-broken at the harsh decree which separated her from all her early friends; give not to her child the same bitter ex perience, but let her go to the husband of her choice with your blessing as well as mine." That the blessing of her adopted parents followed Lilian to her new life and home we may be sure. Mr. Haven is very happy in the happiness of his long-lost daughter, who often declares "that she has two papas, and docs not know which she loves beet." "I've said nothing about your disobeying Jtw tethers thai ie abont the very last Hit I should counsel YOU to do Bntcberbe It toot, you know. I have a BLESSED are the "home"-sick, Clothes and Hats in Core*. In the matter of clothing Corea is unique. The prevailing color is what is supposed to be white. A man start ing out in the morning arrayed in freshly-laundered clothing presents a remarkably fresh appearance, but on his return at night he may not be spotless. The articles of clothing worn at first, a hat, or rather two, or even three, are worn at one time; a tunic, loose and reaching to the waist; loose, baggy white trousers supported by a girdle; white leggins, white stock ings, shoes of various kinds; aud over all a coat the sleeves of which are very flowing and reach down to the hips or lower, and are sewed up from the bot tom to the wrist, so as to form very capacious pockets, where merchants often carry goods in astonishing quanti ties. In these pockets the petty official carries his fan, his handkerchiefs, his tablets for_ writing, and sundry little articles. Not to be forgotten are the purse for coins and knife, and the tobacco-pouch and pipe suspended from the girdle, without which no Corean is dressed. In the case of a man of high rank, however, these latter articles are carried by his serv ants, a great retinue of whom attend him. Of all lands in the world, Corea iB the land of hats. There is some variety, but no change of style. The fashion once set, everybody follows it, and sticks to it. With the exception of the forests of the Amazon, where hats, like umbrellas, are worn to shed the snakes which rain down from the dense overhanging branches, Corea leads the world in the superficial area of headgear.. They may be seen there measuring two feet from the rim to the crown. The stockings and shoes are also wery peculiar.--London Figaro. for lea Ito Tempcnum ta the OH* of Medicinal BemsgM, [Philadelphia Beoord.J One of the most interesting of tlTe papers read before the Stale sanitary convention, held in this city last May, was in the form of a warning against intemperance in the use of drags, /fie writer, Dr. Frank Woodbury, of.this city, has permitted the publication of this noteworthy contribution to popular knowledge in advance of the annual re port of the convention, and it is cer tainly worthy of careful study. The habit ofjaking into the system drugsof whose ultimate effects the partaker is either ignorant or supremely careless has grown very common of late among a large class of people w ho are usually credited with more than ordinary in telligence. Dr. Woodbury's experience leads him to the conclusion that it has attained to such considerable pro portions as to command attention and consideration from all medical prac titioners. He finds the physic-tippler and medicine-bibber everywhere--not the solicitous and overanxious citizen, who, with every slight cold or sore joint, rushes off to a doctor for a course of constitutional treatment, nbt alto gether the devotees of narcotic and stimulant drugs, but a great mass of people who use almost eVery description of real or pretended medicament with out knowledge and without stint. Even the comparatively harmless and in nocuous soda-water fountain has been diverted to the uses of the physic- tippler, for upon inquiry Dr. Woodbury found that numerous powerful tinctures, and elixirs, as well as potassium and sodium bromide, soda mint, sodium bicarbonate, acid phosphate, and aro matic spirits of ammonia, were regu larly served out to patrons of soda-water fountains in the drug stores. Probably very few of the these customers could give a logical or pathological reason for this form of indulgence in extemporized mixtures, which might oj might not prove harmless, but which, in any case, conld not be classed as remedial agents. For overmedication is a danger against which the physician guards no less care fully than against the earlier stages of an acute disease. He knows when to administer and when to withhold. But the slave of a habit of drugging often persists until an enfeebled diges tion and a collapsed nervous system sound imperative notes of warning. In the immense increase noted of late years in' the preparations of narcotic and alkaline drugs, as well as in the continuous accessions to the amount of capital invested in making patent medi cines, Dr. Woodbury finds reasons for believing that the practice of medicine- bibbing is more than keeping pace with the growth of wealth and population. Especially has there been increase in the demand for those drugs that act specifically upon the nervous system. But a few years ago the bromides were little known or used; at the present time it is estimated that over 200 tons are annually used in this country. Chloral hydrate has been in use but fifteen years, yet its consumption in Europe and America now amounts to many hundreds of tons each year, while of the opium products, of ether, chloro form, and the iodides, there is a con stant flow from a severely-taxed yet apparently-exhaustless source of sup ply. Dr. Woodbury tells of a formula for a mixture containing chloral which he saw conspicuously posted behind a druggist's counter. It was found on in quiry that the posting was merely a matter of convenience, since the calls for the mixture were exceedingly fre quent. Alcoholic mixtures he learned were similarly redemanded, often for months after the occasion for their use had passed away. Intemperance in drugs and medicines, it appears, is no less common than are other forms of self-indulgence. ^ Dragons'Bones. f- Iu ffce folk-lore of many df theftfftes that live along the borders of northern and eastern Asia are found tales quite as marvelous and wonderful as those handed down to the boys and girls of the warmer and more civilized countries of the South, in which fairies, heroic giants, and gods are the principal figures,--the offspring of vivid tropical imaginations. But in the tales related to the children of the far-away ice country, the main characters are gi gantic animals and monsters of strange appearance; and as the northern story tellers are not noted for their imagi native powers, we are led to look for some solid foundation ot fact upon which the originators of the myths must have built their wondrous tales. The Chinese legends abound in dragons and unicorns; and in Canton, to-day, may be purchased "dragons' bones and teeth," which form part of the regular stock of the native druggists. In the "Chinese Repository" is a quo tation from Li She Chan, the author of a Chinese medical book. He says, concerning dragons' bones: "The bones are found on banks of rivers and in caves of the earth, places where the dragon died, and can be collected at any time." In the far north, "dragons' bones" were very common, but they were usually considered there to have be longed to gigantic birds. To prove their belief, the natives showed the claws, three or four feet long, of these monsters, which, if they had ever ex isted, must have far exceeded in size the roc of the, "Arabian Nights." Quaint tales of these were told on winter evenings, perhaps, to native boys and girls; and little reason had the children to doubt them, for the claws were so plentiful that their fathers used them, as the Chukches of eastern Siberia do strips of whalebone, to make their bows, which they use for hunting, more elastic. Finally, an English naturalist,, while studying Chinese folk-lore, made the discovery that the "dragon's bones and teeth" were no more nor less than the remains of a great extinct rhinoceros. Soon after, a scientist traveling in northern Siberia, heard the natives talking about the gigantic birds I have just mentioned, and being shown. a "claw," he saw that it, too, was in reality, a horn of a monster rhinoceros that in past ages had lived in that far- off land of ice.--Charles Frederick Holder, in St. Nicholas. An Early Reminiscence. A Witter, a lady whose name is not given, records this reminiscence of her first meeting with Dickens when he was a young man: It was at the house of a relative of mine. I was first introduced to bis wife in the sanctuary of the bedroom, where I was arranging my hair before the glass. I thought her a pretty little woman, with the heavy-lidded, large, blue eyes, so much admired by men. The nose was a little retrousse, the forehead good, mouth small, round and red-lipped, with a pleasant, smiling ex pression, notwithstanding the sleepy -tip, awmiig eye* 'flolf wai nils dtufc, which malted too suddenly into the throat I %ent down with a fluttering heart to fee introduced to Boz. The first ideas that flashed through me were;, /What a fine, characteristic face! Wnat marvelous eyes! And what horrid taste in dress! He wore his hair long in "admired disorder" and it suited the picturesque style of his head; but he had on a surtout with a very wide collar, very muoh thrown back, showing a vast ex panse of waistcoat, drab trousers and drab boots with patent leather toes, and the whole effect (apart fron^ his fine head) gave evidence of a loud taste of costume.--Jt. II. Stoddard.. ' Tie Distribution of Earthquakes. In the present condition of the oath's crust, so far as the brief historic record goes to show, earthquakes of an in tensity menacing to man are limited to certain regions which probably do not altogetllfer include more than one-fourth of the area of the lands, though shocks of a less degree of violence appear to be common to every part of the sur face of the continents. The regions of recurrent shocks of considerable violence are so irregularly distributed that they cannot be adequately noted in this brief essay. They include, in Europe, Iceland, Portugal, Spaii), and Southern Italy; the region of the Lower Danube, and some of the islands of the Grecian Archipelago. In Asia, the larger part of Asia Minor, several limited areas in Hindostan, the greater part of the eastern littoral region of Asia, and the islands of the Japanese and Malayan Archipelagoes are subjected to destructive shocks. _ In Africa, there is, save in Egypt, little architecture to suffer from earth quake disturbances, and even .little history to record it. Egypt, seems to have been, on the whole, singularly ex empt from great earthquakes, while the western portion of the Mediterranean face of the continent shares the dis turbances from which the Spanish peninsula has repeatedly suffered. The vast Australian and Polynesian district of the Pacific affords a number of regions of great earthquake activity, of which New Zealand is the only one where we have anything like good ob servations for even a few score years. It may be said, however, that the greater part of this vast area seems to be more exempt from these indications of activity in the crest than any other equally extensive part of the earth's surface. 1 / We now come to the twin continents, North and South America. The ob vious resemblances in the physical con figuration of these continents lead us to expect a likeness in their conditions of stability. This resemblance in a certain measure exists. The western shore of both of these continents, the seaward face of the great Cordileran range of mountains, is the seat of the most frequent and, on the whole, the most energetic disturbances which oc cur within their limits, while the east ern shore of each is comparatively little Assailed by shocks. The northern, or Venezuelan, district of South America, which is apparently the seat of an active mountain growth, of which there is no parallel in the northern continent, in a district of recurrent shocks of great violence, such as have never been observed in high latitudes on our own continent. On the other hand, the region from the mouth of the Amazon to the La Plata River, which corresponds-to our seaboard Atlantic States, and the provinces of Canada, enjoys an immunity for disturbances probably not exceeded by any other equally extensive area occupied by the Ayran race, while the corresponding region in North America is much less fortunate. --Scribner's Magazine. Kind-Hearted Insects. The Bible has made ants famous for industry and foresight, and modern naturalists find few animals more worthy of study. These insects not only are surprisingly Intelligent, but manifest a lively regard for each others' welfare, as the following incident well illustrates. It is taken from Mr. Belt's "Naturalist in Nicaragua:'" One day while watching a small column of these foraging ante, I placed a little stone on one of them to secure it. The next that approached, as soon as it discovered its situation, ran back in an agitated manner to communicate the intelligence to the others. They rushed to the rescue. Some bit at the stone, and tried to move it; others seized the prisoner by the legs, and tugged with such force that I thought its legs would be pulled off, but they persevered till they got the captive free. I next covered one up with a piece of clay, leaving only the ends of his antennso projecting. It . was soon dis covered by its fellows, which Set to work immediately, and by biting off pieces of the clay, soon liberated it. Another time I found a very few of them passing along at intervals.* I con fined one of these under a piece of clay, at a little distance from the line, with its head projecting. Several ants passed it, but at last one discovered it, and tried to pull it out, but could not. It immediately set off at a great rate, and I thought it had deserted its com rade; but it had only gone for assist ance, for in a short time about a dozen ants came hurrying up, evidently fully informed of the circumstances of the case, for they made directly for their imprisoned comrade, and soon set him free. The excitement and ardor with which they carried on their unflagging exertions could not have been greater if they had been human beings. It Startled Him. He was a clerk in a shoe store, but rather new to the business. When a pretty girl tripped in and aaked for shoes he inquired politely: "What number do you wear?" "Why, two, of course," she snapped; "how many feet do you suppose I have ?" "I--I--meant what siee?" he stam mered. < "Oh! size 8, and D-- wide," she re sponded, carelessly. He fainted before a brother clerk could explain that the width of shoes was regulated alphabetically and no profanity was intended.--Detroit Free Press. Simply Disgusting. Offiee-seeker--I called, sir, to ask you to request the President to give foe a foreign mission or something. The President's Pastor--Excuse me, sir; but you are the 105th office-seeker who has been here to-day, and I have had to explain to each and all that I have had no influence with the Admin istration. "No influence with the President?" "Certainly not." "Well, I didn't suppose bo was such a heathen as that.Omaha World. THE world is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who feeL-- Hor*e» Waipoh. ^ There appears to be something per* fectly appalliiig in this branch of the art of courtship, for the widower is not only careful to give plenty of advice, but suggests a variety of ways of meet ing the crisis and fairly throttling it. "There is one maxim of universal ap plication in 'popping the question never lose an opportunity. A girl can not make direct advances; that would be indelicate; but she can use infinite tact to cause her lover to make them. In every case it is fair to presume that when a woman gives a man an oppor tunity she expects him to improve it; and though he may tremble and feel his pulse throbbing and tingling through every limb; though his heart is filling up his throat, and his tongue clings to the roof of his mouth, yet the awful question must be ashed, the fear ful task accomplished. "In the country, a lover is taking a romantic walk t>y moonlight with his sweetheart. Their conversation is varied. A little village gossip is intro duced, when he sayB to her: 'People will talk about each other. It was only yesterday that I heard that you and I were going to get married. I thought to myself I wished it was true.' The. girl leans more fondly on the arm that tremblingly supports her. 'What do you say, Eliza, shall it be so--will you really have me?' This is a settler, and the answer, ever so inaiidible, 'makes or undoes him quite.' "Another way would be for him to say to her: 'Eliza, I have made a very ourious and interesting discovery.' 'What is it?' she inquires. 'I have cast our nativity, and I find by the rules of magic that we certainly shall be mar ried this year. Of course you will not oppose what fate ordains.' "A point is often gained by taking a thing for granted. A gentleman who has been paying attentions to a lady, says: 'Well, Mary, when is the happy day?' 'What day, pray?' she asks, with a conscious blush. 'Why, every body knows that we are going to get married, and it might as well be one time as another, you know. So Avhen shall it be ?' Cornered in this fashion there is no retreat for the lady. " 'Susan you know that I am over head and ears in love with you, and if you will only say you will marry me I should feel a great relief.' 'If you feel so bad as that (she replies) I should be cruel not to relieve you at once.' " 'Ellen, there is one little word in our language I should like to hear, if you can pronounce it correctly.' 'If it is not a hard one I will try.' 'It is one of three letters and answers the ques? tion,' "'Will you have me?'" The lady, of course, says 'Yes,' unless she prefers a word of two letters and an swers 'No!' "One timid gentleman asks, 'Have you any objection to change your name ?' and follows this up with another, which clenches its significance, 'How would mine suit you ?' "Another asks, 'Will you tell me what I most wish to know?' *Yes, if I can.' 'The happy day when we shall 1 be mar ried.' "Another says, "Anna, we must do what all the world evidently expects we shall.' 'Al^ the world may be very impertinent.' 1 know it--but it can't bethelped. When shall I tell the min ister to be ready ?'"--Exchange, i The Lime-Kiln Club, ,i "I hev a pitishun heah," said Brother Gardner as the meeting opened, "from thirty cull'd people of Niles, axin' dis Lime-Kiln Club to use all its influence to secure de restorashun of capital punishment in Michigan. Long ago dis club announced its stand on dat queshun, an' it h'as thrown its inflooence in favor of a law, but it am plain 'nuff dat the present Legislacliur' doan' in tend to make any radical move. We shall, darfore, pay no furder attenshun to pitishuns. It am evident dat we ar' too good an' nice an' soft-hearted in dis Stait. "We call it barbarious to hang a murderer. He am a hero who should be presented wid bouquets and poetry. If he happens to be poo' we should chip in to furnish him a lawyer. All his ac quaintances should try hard to remem ber dat he has always acted queerly, an' dat he must hev bin insane when he committed de deed. If he am acciden tally foun' guilty his lawyer mus' move fur a new trial on new evidence, an' de hole fur him to crawl out of mus' be made larger. In case he goes to prison he is incouraiged to look fur a pardon an' advised to consider himself a sort of lion. "If you come to my hog pen in de arternoon an' steal my two hogs I kin promise you five y'ars in State Prison. If you come into my cabin at night an' kill my old woman an' steal de $27 I hev got hidden away in de chiny teapot in de pantry, your chances of remainin' at liberty ar' as good as your goin' to prison fur life. Nine-tenths of de pub lic sentiment in dis Stait am in favor of hangin' fur murder, but de restorashun of de law am alius check-mated in de Legislacliur' by a dozen pussons so en tirely too good fur dis world dat de sooner dey break frew de ice an' git drownded de better it will be fur de rest of de publick. "Meanwhile each of you go to de grocery and buy twenty feet of rope to tie up a cow wid. Make a slip-noose in one end an' soap do rope so dat it will slip freely. Hang it up on a nail in de kitchen, an' de fust night you tumble outer bed at de cry of 'murder' take your cow rope along wid you. If de murderer has bin caught dar orter be a lamp post near by. If not, try a shade tree. However, you should fust ascer tain if de murderer's victim am a mem ber of de Legislacliur. If not, hang de murderer. If so, let de murderer go free an' chip in a purse' to help him reach Canada. We will now attend to de abnormal business which has brought us together."--Detroit Free Press. Louis XVI.'s Last Orier. An interesting document is abont to be added to the treasures of the Hotel Carnavalet, Paris. It is'the last order signed by Louis XVI., ordering the Swiss Guard on August 10, 1792, to cease firing and abandon the Tuileries. His Majesty and his family had been driven rfom the palace and had taken refuge in the National Assembly, hold ing its sittings in the Salle du Manage. A company of Swiss Guards, under the direction of Capt. de Durler, was ad vancing in shooting order to deliver the Royal family, whereupon a number of deputies and citizens begged the King to sign a formal order to put an end to the combat. Louis XVI. signed the document with a trembling hand. Capt. de Durler preserved the document, which his descendants have now placed in the Musee Carnavalet.--Galignani'a Messenger. THE simple process of slipping a tube into the larynx through the mouth is being substituted for the •formidable surgical operation of tracheotomy in Jfipiip and diphtheria, with good result* There are few of us who have not made the acquaintance of the wet blan ket, and have not experienced its chill ing effects, and suffered and pneumonias from its oontact. We have often reoeived it, no doubt, from a quarter from which we least expected it, and have, it may be, in our turn be stowed it where it was equally unwel come. What a tendency it has to kill our little entliusiams with its frosty touch, to accent our ignorances, to arrest our progress, to annihilate our pet conceits! She who does not know the wet blanket is a fortunate being, perhaps, but she lacks this means of development and discipline, although most of us would vastly prefer to re main undeveloped and undisciplined to the end of our days. It is not cheerful to be matured by misfortune; one would rather submit to the natural process of time. ^ The wet blanket renders us self- conscious and shrinking; it makes us feel as if we were too insignificant, too stupid, to accomplish anything serious or serviceable. It is worse than a nar cotic for stupefying the faculties and benumbing the activities; one could no more live under its constant application than under that of a chronic blister; it is a species of torture which, although slight, ends by paralyzing effort, spontaneity and originality. There are instances, however, where the wet blanket has not been applied often enough--where it would be rather remediable than otherwise in counter acting self-sufficiency and other deep- seated ailments. It is as good as physic for those whose stomaches are dis ordered by too sweet an opinion of themselves and contempt for others, or as salicylic acid for the mentally rheu* matic. There are wives who have be come so docile under its influence that they not only dare not say their souls are their own, but no longer believe the fantasy, who never venture to give an opinion on any subject till they have found out which way the wind blows, who have had their intellect eliminated by this dampening method. Indeed, the wet blanket is largely used in the domestic circle, and one can usually county among one's friends a few who keep it constantly on hand, and do not scruple to use it in order to subdue high spirits, contented minds, and lofty aspirations; like the cold compress, it is a sure means of reducing the temper ature and bringing the fever of high emprise down to die normal pulse of commonplace repose. However medi cal this treatment may prove, we all like to swallow our bitters voluntarily, and not have them thrust upon us like greatness; and to whatever school of medicine we may belong, we place little confidence in the saving grace of the wet blanket for our own personal dis orders, however we may insist on its efficacy with regard to others.--Har- per'# Bazar. What Is an Instinct | lEhttinct is usually defined ulty of acting in such a way as to pro duce certain ends, without foresight of the ends, and without previous educa tion in the performance. That in stincts, as thud defined, exist on an enormous scale in the animal kingdom needs no proof. They are the functional correlatives of structure. With the presence of a certain organ goes, one may say, almost always a native apti tude for its use. A very common way of talking about these admirably definite tendencies to act is by naming abstractly the purpose they subserve, such as self-preserva tion, or defense,, or care for eggs and young--and saying the animal has an instinctive fear of death and love 6f life, or that she has an instinct of self- preservation, or an instinct of maternity and the like. But this represents the animal as obeying abstractions whioh, not once in a million cases, is it pos sible it can have framed. The strict physiological way of interjpreting the facts leads to far clearer results. The actions we call instinctive, all conform' to the general reflex type; they are called forth by determinate sensory stimuli in contact with the animal's body, or at a distance in his environ ment. The cat runs after the mouse, runs or shows fight before the dog, avoids falling from walls and trees, shuns fire and water, etc., not because he has any notion eitheir of life or of death, or of self, or of preservation. He has probably attained to no one of these conceptions in such a way as to react definitely upon it. He acts in each case separately, and simply be- cause he cannot help it; being so framed that when that particular run ning thing called a mouse appears in his field of vision he must pursue; that when that particular barking and ob streperous thing called a dog appears* there, lie must retire, if at a distance, and scratch if close by; that he must withdraw his feet from water and his face from flame, etc. His nervous sys tem is to ^ great extent a preorganized bundle of such reactions--they are as fatal as sneezing, and as exactly cor related to their special excitants as it is to its own. Although the naturalist may, for his own convenience, class these reactions under general heads, he must not forget that in the animal it is a particular sensation or perception or image which calls them forth.--Prof. William James, in Scribner's Maga zine. Some Mitigating Circumstances. "See here, Jones, I want to talk* to you a moment," said an Austin philan thropist ; "don't you know you are not doing your duty by your chUdf en in not sending them to school? That's not the w&y a fond father should treat his children." "Well, now, I don't know about that," replied Jones. "I don't believe you fully realize what you are talking about. Now, I have a brother whose oldest son was sent up for two years for horse-stealing, and the judge, in sentencing him, said that his ignorance and lack of early education were strong mitigating circumstances in the case; and instead of making the sentence ten years, which he would have done had the boy never received any education, he would make it only two. Now, do you suppose I am going to rob my boys of those mitigating circumstances that have already been such a bonanza in the family? No, sir; before I do, I hope my right arm will cleave to the roof of my mouth!"--Texas Siftings. True to the Last. A groceryman was dying of con sumption. "Ah," sighed his pastor, "the sands of life are slowly running out, but he sweetens his last hours by the consola tions of religion." "Ugh," grunted a deacon who had bought groceries of him, "the ruling passion strong in death; he Btill puts sugar in his sand, Isee."--Washington Critic. THERE is nothing so minute or incon siderable that I would not tather know it than noL-̂ ohnson. * ¥* ^A^s-nw^nto îiss. held o««* by the magaiine pahttdMr. PB«mm;s ink is a gttat thing, yet printers sink much nttoayin it,s<mH> times. 7^ ' A iAD cannot expect to be dresaed up like a man until he is through dressed down like a boy. ^ A MABBIED man who never teek a drink in his life, will see double whan his wife presents him with fcwiua. THE ideal wife gets out of bed, the fire and has the breakfast prwmrmi before she calls the ideal httsbaad. THK man who "can either tsdte it or leave it alone" usually has a little drop in tho house in readiness for ait emer gency. "I KNOW what four o'clock a. m. four o'clock p. m. mean," said old Bee- zum to his wife? "but what is this foar o clock t. that we art invited to?*-- Texas Siftings. "• ^ • 1^®NKY>" asked the fond wife of Her siok husband, "would you not like to see somebody?" and he faintly re sponded, "No, I'm not see sick."-- Commercial Bulletin. WHEN a young lady runs off and ries a coachman a great fuss made about it; but every day some bride marries a groom and nothing is thought of that--Brooklyn Union. TSUST him little.who praises all; him less who oensures all, and him least who is indifferent to all. In fact, don't truet anybody if you can get ready money.--Shoe and Leather Reporter. "THAT fellow calls himself a soldier, and he never smelt powder," said Jones to Smith. "Never smelt powder, eh?" "No, sir." "I think you're wrong, I saw him kissing a society girl the othec night"-^Boston Courier. .? pooit FELLOW. •» «SF , The man who never advertised hto sten • ̂ Sat down one night a little while to t.hinfc, Ana after meditation rose and swore; This place is deader than a roller rink. --Boston Courier. , «PDHN and Ida married lived i - i j :' . ^In Idaho forlorn, "'"1 s y®ause John hung round the i - And let Idaho the corn. --Texas Siftingt. "WHAT do you consider the mo«| difficult thing in the world ?" asked an inquisitive old lady of the President of a college. "Ah," sighed the learned man, who had a family of grown-up daughters, "the most difficult thing, I find, is to convince a woman that she should wear her old stockings muddy day."--Chicago Ledger. PLEASE SINO WITHOUT LINING. Breathes there a, man with soul so dead, H« does not love to lie in bed, While matin bells are loudly rung And caustic taunts at him are flung? If such there bo, go, marit him welL And ring for him the daMight bell, Far happier than that wretcU forlorn, With joyous snores I'll hail the mean. And as the sun up-climbing goes, Make the day hideous with my noM. Burdette, in Brooklyn Eagle. FOGG--I've been writing soifr&tht here; but I don't know whether to pulPN lish it or not. What do you think of it? Brown (after looking over a few pages)--To be frank with you, I don't believe anybody but a fool would buy such a book; certainly nobody but a fool would ever read it Fogg--Thank you, I'll publish it The man who writes only for the wise men is a fool; he who writes for fools is a wise mmn. He has a hundred readers to the other's one.--Boston Transcript. JOHN SMITH, familiarly known aa "Shemoka John," formerly of McCal- mont Township, now deceased, was a great tobacco-chewer in his day. He would bite off a chunk as.large as an elephant's ear, and twist it aronnd with great satisfaction. One day, while mastering a fresh invoice of plug, he noticed that it produced a peculiar crackling and grating sound and tasted nasty. He looked at the plug and saw that a mouse had been embedded in it, and that he had bitten it in two and had half of it in his mouth at that momeitt. That was his last chew of tobacco.--- Punxsutawney Spirit. Some Baboo English. like following document, which ma recently received by a European gen tlemen, is a superb specimen of Baboo. English: HONORED SIR : We begs to bring to your kind notice the following facts, .which are quite genuine, i. e., your Secretary, Mr. -- , Es<j., comes to the mills when he is quite intoxicated, totally, daily, and not only that, he strikes the works peoples with that heavy ponderous stick that he was wqnt to carry always with him, therefore the works people are always fearing him and are quite dishearted to work while he stays over the works peoples. Me and my friend was forced to leave your Honor's service owing to his maltreat ment, and moreover his vulgar language that he uses to us is something degrad ing and obnoxious to the human eara. We would not care much for his abusive language, but for his great partiality for liquor and dealing sundry blowa with his stick. He almqst killed one man with the same stick by dealing at him sundry blows, the victim's eye was bleeding 'blood severely, and Mr. , Esquire, beholding the fatality of the inflicted blows he gave the victim he gave Rupees six (6) to the victim to compensate for the atrocious deed he had committed. While he is in the in toxicated still he sits in his chair with his eyes rolling wildly in his head, and when he, your Honor's servants, Waa sent for by him we can hardly dare to renter his office, because we are fearing very muoh for that most ponderous stick. We sincerely hope your Honors will kindly look into these matters and have pity on us poor suffering clerkfc We beg to remain, Sir, yours, &c., ^ POOR SUFFERING CLERKS* ^ ---Fall Mall Gazette. ^ 3 ** * Wanted Some on Accoaa A iew days ago a well-known negro man, who was the fortunate possessor of a fine lot on one of the leading reai- dent streets of the city, sold his prop erty for $10,000 cash. He was given a check for that amount, which was car ried in due time to one of the banks. The paying teller asked the negro how much of the money he wanted in cash* "I wants all that'ar paper oalls fur,* replied the negro. "What! You don't wont $10,000 |a "JesBO, sah." .< * "All right," ansVered the nan nm shuffles the bank bills, and in five min utes he began piling the money on tike counter. As he laid the $500 paokages on the counter the negro's eyes began to grow larger, and finally when twenty of the packages were placed before him his eyes looked as large as jiew moons. The negro looked intently at the stack of money for a moment and then, with a broad grin on his faoe, said: "I'se jist paralyzed, boss; gimme $1.50 and you kin keep de rest of that till I call agin.n--Chattanooga Timet, THOUGH measured by feet, .poetry & the kind of literary gush in wnich seB- tiiaentaL writers take ahm ,̂ , . •14',.=,: