J. SLYKE, Editor and PtfWWwr, -^TF*MNO OF GL R-JWARS^ t*' BT ft. W. FOM. Jy been said of hlj that, though his liar, he was handsOltfe, me?*» "Mr. Haughton, "this scene It pah* T™^,„ ILLINOIS.! ful to me, but there Is only one<||^ftf^ w^'l to take: I do not love you and a£?6r j with that libber beauty that comes can. I have enjoyed your conipijfltif ! from the fjQHession. Not only did when you were not too loving, and, his faceindicate character, but it therefore, have, «~r, grai>e& In the lamf of Oh- ^ Wlnee clnBters tlimb higher and higher, fchrcromipd breast. is the vintage of Mt'1 tones the la* nerve* with an infinite aeat, ... And thrills !ho dull brain •with new Are. flkaroiigh mutticai rut-he* the stream8 flow along, Aid the valley B resound with the Daughters of Song, And flaunt with their, floating attire; ital: •pare, here is shade, and cool fount* & '1 r'\ perhaps, not dis con raged your attentions as I should have done, so I beg your pardon." Philip received this calmly, for it was only what he expected, and said: "It is enough; you are cruel,' nit I thank you for your cruelty, for it will makfe a man of me; I will never for- na,«nd amaic to | get you, but I will do all in my power j to overcome my love for you, and j whether I succeed or fall, rest assured that I shall never bother you again." The next day when the general leave-taking occurred, Philip's lips trembled, but they were set as firmly as ever were Helen's own, and he said good-bye as coldly as she did. Three years passed by, very event- nil years to Helen Rutledge. To the surprise of all, except her friends, she was still unmarried. She often said that she was incapable of loving; she tki the mountain-hemmed vale* of the Land of V Glt-Tharo. TIN the branches bend down with pomegranates of pence, ftThat <>oze with the jnice of deUght, Vbrough the odorous Past of the Spangled Grass, (from t he Lily Pad Lake, that is clearer than '• glass, tJDre»iu zephyrs float down from tbe height. /flpey mo heavy with perfuma anl odorous • sxuells iRhat arise from the grots of the Daffodil Dells 'Where the noondar is mixed with the night: , Vbere is perfume and song, and sweet music to , spare, j pi tbe verdurous vales of the Land of Git- j _ • , 1 could not even imagine herself in love tut yon eltmb tbe tall mountaina of Precepice l and you come to tbe Land of Oit-Thare; phd you OHMS tbe White Land of Poisonous '.'j.* Saud vtll you teach the b'ack shore of the Shipwreck Strand, By the blood Fed Pea of DeFpa.tr. Jkul you Rail this sea, like a loneatme morass, till you come to the ruse of the Spangled Grass, And n, Ft rone armed angel is there. And a glittering eword in his hand gleams bare, fb drive back all who seek for the Laud of Git- j'si Thare! WTankee Blade. A \ RETRIBUTI6II. i '* i" WM' i f "Yoa ought to be ashamed of your self for treating Philip Haughton in Mie way you do. If I were to be so jruel I should expect to be punished * it." "Well, if Mr. Phil is a mind to itake a fool of himself, I do not see What business it is of mine," said a piquant, but ttrm and quiet voice, •and sweet lips closed themselves with »decision: they were lips often accus- "tomed to close themselves with de- -clsion, for they belonged to Helen -Rutledge. Helen Rutledge was a girl to whom s-any common description would wrong; •though she had brown eyes and hair, •and though the eyes were expressive with any man she had ever seen. Be ing of such a self-reliant and self- centered disposition this was very natural. Besides she had a wonder ful talent for painting, and to that delightful occupation she devoted her whole time, and as is always the case, it requited her devotion with never- failing success. Ail she did was good, but her fofte was originality and feel ing. It was a wonder that she could represent so well what she knew so little about. She still liked the so ciety of young men, but only for the momentary pleasure; beyond that she never gave them a thought. One day when she was with a party of girl friends--perhaps I had better call them acquaintances, she was not particularly sucial; she had no inti mate friends and her best friends were married women--they began to discuss the new doctor. One said he* was so handsome, another so dignified, a third praised his voice, while a fourth thought his conversational powers something remarkable. He was a new arrival, and had evidently made a great impression. Helen at first paid no attention to this insect-buzzing, but it continued •and the hair soft and wavy, though j so long she was at last compelled (her voice was a contralto and had 4hat peculiar charm which that voice gives to every word; though her deep brown eyes were large, with full though thin lids of unusual beauty and long brown lashes; when you told these things she was still undescribed. There was an indescribable charm tfbout her, due n<Jt to any peculiar feature, but mainly to a self-centered, decisive, superior air which seemed to come from her very nature without any intervention of consciousness. As to her character, well, that will Jiave to be shown. The men seemed to have a trick of falling in love with her, a habit which to listen, and finally exclaimed, "What a paragon he must be to have made so profound an impression; I declare, girls, you have aroused my curiosity, I should like to see this wonderful young man." "Then come to Mrs. Graham's re ception to-morrow evening," said one of the girls; "he will be there." "Oh, you know I never go to such things; they are such dreadful bores and I don't guess he's worth the trouble lifter all." s Explain it as you may, Helen that evening was a guest of Mrs. Graham's. It ftas not long before she stood face with the new doctor and heard, "Dr. jr. :•"« • h . ' » . : •caused her .some annoyance and no j Haughton, Miss Rutledge." little amusement: but none had been •«o completely under her thumb as JPhilip Haughton. They were all to* •gether at a popular summer resort. He was an attractive youth and all the girls liked him, but he cared for «one but Helen. He was intellectual, •entertaining, handsome, and full of resources, and would have been a con spicuous character if the good men" had been as plentiful as they were Scarce. His only faults were a slight, almost boyish figure, and a certain For once in her life Miss Rutledge was embarassed, but Dr. Haughton was quite self-possessed and said simply that he did not think they required an introduction, at least if Miss Rutledge had taken the trouble to remember him. She replied quickly that she had not found that very hard work. Then followed a short and unimportant conversation and Dr. Haughton started upon his rounds among the other ladies, by whom he was most graciously re- lightness of mien which some thought! ceived. It is nice to be courted and . mi T'% iM:. denoted frivolity of character. The dialogue above was intterrupted ny the entrance of the party dis cussed. Jennie, the < friend, looked tather conscious; Helen not at all so. "Oh, Miss Rutledge," said Philip as they walked off together, "they :are arranging for a big dance at the "Grand Western this evening; may I have the pleasure of your company?" "Ko, I do not like to make in engagement--something might happen." ' 'But you' make engagements with ttthers." 'i ^*"Well, what then?" " >r-'Nothing, only I thought that mtei all my devotion to you you anight condescend to treat me as you ' <4o the others who do not care the <4nap of their fingers for you. Well" •--with a sigh--"the old idea is right - 'that what we feel surest we care least about. If I had more of the world's Wisdom I would conceal my heart, tyit I love you too well for that, and .-Ilj) I suffer." ;; "You need not worry yourself . about it; I shall be at the dance and .fou may look at me to your heart's EContent." "I will, for it is the only thing you ^-Sfrill let me do." , , The dance came and Philip was 4here, but Helen would not dance With him and hardly speak to him. To be sure he did not waltz, which •he said was the only dance she liked, *>ut he thought bitterly as he followed i»ound at her heels she would not liave regarded that had she cared any thing for him. He had resolved not to be out that night, but had been unable to keep away; he made many •uch resolves, but he made them only to break them. For she was always to sweet and attractive, and just as fete was on the point of open rebellion «Ie would be so kind and friendly he *rould soon be as devoted as ever. Helen did not believe herself a flirt, •nd resented the accusation with acorn; she even said it worried her to " Itave a man dangling after her, but thillip Haughton was not the first . «aan who had been treated in just •r^lhat styke. Still, she was not an in-. • itentional flirt and her havoc was .^^rrought from thoughtlessness rather ' ^"than malice. : Well, the season wore to a Close, • '<and still Philip's abject servile de- ,/r Motion to Helen made him the laugh- complimented, even when we do not think much of those who gratify us. Helen found her eyes often follow ing him as he moved among the crowd. His figure was still slight, but the boyishness was replaced by that--what is the French word "sang froid," that comes from experience rather than age. During the weeks that followed these two were frequently thrown to gether and once or twice he called on her. He was rather friendly, but his whole manner said plainly, "I ! worried you once with my foolishness, but I have kept my promise and now regard you only as a friend." It I sometimes made her feel a little jeal- ! ous of fate when he showed such in difference to her. Thus he became a rarity and as a rarity was attractive. She began to think of him during the day, and wonder how much she would see of him during the evening. He seemed to grow handsomer every day: and the more she knew of his character the better and nobler she thought him. * Once she started out on the always tiresome duty of paying calls--it was particularly irksome to her and a thing she avoided whenever possible. This time, however, waa made forever memorable. One of her "acquaintances" began to dilate on Dr. Haughton and the attention he had paid to a beautiful and accomplished young lady where he had studied medicine. By one of the curious and yet natural actions of the mind, just this little thing first caused her to realize that she loved Philip Haughton. Like most coquettes, she never knew that she, had a heart--till she found that she did not have one. How she got through with that visit and safe in her own room she never knew. It may be noted, however, for our special enlightenment, that her friend saw nothing unusual in her demeanor. Now comes the most difficult part of my story, to picture a woman of Helen's character in love. She was not listless or moping, nor did she cover her canvas with sketches of the loved one as most women would have done. None of her family sus pected her complaint, only her mother detected a certain strained tension in her manner and was puzzled. She de voted herself more than ever to her art, but she found in it none of that l°g stock of the whole place. On the divine consolation which she had been m- |," ^evening before the party to which .Helen belonged was to leave, Philip requested her company for a stroll yalongithe beach. For a wonder she "^(consented. :ij| .«rphe pale roeoif". accustomed to obtain in lesser trou bles. She could and her forte was | forts seemed devoid of heart and originality. 4tn . . . . , , * do not During all this time she and Philip rflike interminable description and do frequently met, at her own home and 4not care to go on; you can find the ^ffe^irest in the average popular novel. j Os After a few light commonplaces, ] :^v^n which both seemed to avoid con- versation, Philip said: : "I fear 1 shall be very sad after to- ^ > f«fiimorrow. You have long known of Jovelnr jroos <m«f I ask hDr was also remarkably expressive. It changed With his changing moods. His eyes were gray but not at all so cold as gray eyes are usually supposed to be, but glittered with the fire .of Inspiration, danced with humor, or glowed with sympathy. A8 Helen knew him better she discovered tin* suspected depths in his character. He seemed a mere butterfly of fashioh, with all that character's advantages and disadvantages, but was really a man of deep thought and steadfast purpose, and had already achieved re* markable success in his profession. * One evening after an animated con versation on generalities, a pause, Then Philip remarked: "I am afraid I worried yoi very much at St. Martin's; I hope you will forgive me--I think I have profited some what from the best of all teachers-- xperience." "Yes, I think you bave«hanged.H More chit-chat. He becomes very friendly, and confides his hopes and ambitions, then relates several inci dents of his college life. "And there is something else," he says at last, "I have not told you about-- Miss Deering. She is a delighlful girl I knew while at college--her j beauty is her smallest attraction." "Yes, I have heard of your devo tion to her; when shall I .expect your wedding cards?" ""Oh, it has not come to that yet," and a dreamy look comes into his eyes. "I think you are very fickle," she says with a snap and then would have given worlds to take it back. He replies lightly. A pause--"Miss Helen, I have a great tavor, to ask of you; there is going to be a nice pri vate german Thursday and I watift your company; may I have it?* "No you can't; I hate germans." "But as a special favor to me?" , "I am not aware that you have any right to special favors from me," and she turned as cold as ice. Seeing which he took his leave, with a puz zled, speculative look in his eyes which suggests as his thoughts, "Va- riumet mutabile semper, femina," the best translation of which I think is "a thing capricious and changeable always, woman is," and which is a remark that, joined with even earlier testimony, shows that woman, changeable in all else, has never changed in being changeable. Helen rushed immediately into her mother's room, fell on her lap and burst into tears. For a long time her mother said nothing, but showed far better than I by words that heavenly sympathy on which we can always depend. When her tears were nearly exhausted, her mother said* "Come, darling, tell me all about it" She told her story, aided by a mother's quick intuition. •//And oh, mother, he does not love me, he only, thinks of me as a friend. It is a hard fate but a just one; I only cared for the pleasures men gave, and never thought of the pain I gave them." "Cheer up, darling, this may not be as hopeless as you think, and if it is, with your disposition you can quickly get over it." "No, no, it is hopeless and X shall never get over it. Mother, help me; it will hurt, but I will try to live it down." Though she had not expected to go, she found herself at the german Thursday, and the first person she saw was Philip, who came to her at once and said: "I want to beg your pardon for whatever I said that of fended you the other evening; I can not bear to have you angry; I think too much of your friendship for that." "It was nothing much, and lo is I who ought to beg pardon, though, you know we women claim caprice as a right." "Well, to show my pardon will you allow me to escort you home to-night --it is so much pleasanter on a night like this to walk than to ride?" "Certainly," she said. The german was over; In the wee sma, hours, they started home. The streets harsh and business-like by day were given a romantic glamour by the late rising moon, whose horizontal rays glinted in and out among the houses. *, They enjoyed the beauty of the scene silently for awhile, then Philip said: "There is something I want to tell you, Miss Rutledge." f "lam all attention.i- "My connection wUh |[iS8 ^ering is a pure myth." -Y . , Y. Helen trembled. v Y i "Helen, I love you and you only; I have tried to be satisfied with your friendship, but it is not enough. I have asked you before; I ask you again, will you not try to love me a little?" With none of the pretty trifling women usually think necessary on such occasions, but with all such a woman's strong decision, she an swered: "I love you now, with all my heart." After a month of perfect happiness --the nearest perfect that Heaven vouchsafes to us sinful mortals-- Philip one day said, "Helen, my dearest (If any one thinks these terms of endearment and their usual accom paniments, better imagined than de scribed, are not true to nature you may set it down that he has never "been there"), my conscience will not let me keep silent. Do you knpw I you are going to marry a villain?" "A villain? I don't believe it." "Yes, a villain, a vile plotter. I thought you liked me better than you knew at St. Martin's. I had learned , your character and I formed a deep- settle at nothing ; laid scheme, and carried it put. I gone--all her ef- |came to your city for thatiepurpose; I have always loved you, and was de termined to win you. I confess, too, that I wanted to have the pleasure of seeing you experience that terrible thing, which you thought was such a triffling complaint in others and so often occasioned without mejrcy--an .unrequited love. "You did exactly right, but your heart was too soft, you could not punish me as I deserved.'W-fA&Lanta Constitution- * t" at different public and private enter tainments,, to all which she went, as scarcely ever failed to find the new doctor. She was kinder and sweeter than ever, but he took her kindness to be a reward for his renunciation and became more exclusively friendly. It may perhaps be of interest to e ioef;i||podern.t elds woqtd have ^f¥!$icu!ous a Ifttiewhile ago/The adoption of some such means of de fence is, nevertheless, within the range of possibility, if not of imme diate probability* Sxperimeitla. ia this direct ion are reported to Jiave been made both in the Austrian and French armies. The conditions of warfare have been, changed so radi cally by smokeless powder and maga zine rifles, effective at a mile and a half, that it is no longer safe to dis miss any practical suggestion with- a trial. A committee of the French war office have reported- in favor of a buckler of aluminium and copper. They think that a shield could be made out of this combination light enongh to be carried without serious difficulty, and strong enough to stop even the modern rifle bullet, except at very close quarters. From a shield to a coat of mail would be but a short step, but it is not likely to be taken just yet. However light the n$w shield or armor might be, it would either increase the soldier's burden or necessitate the omission of some other part of his equipment, already re« duced to the narrowest limits com- patable with sustenance and a proper supply of ammunition. Extra weight would result in slower marching, an alternative not to be thought Of In these days of rapid evolutions,! | . The Future of Idaho. Idaho's increase will be much more than 5,000 a year, Her resources are Valuable, and are being developed at a rapid rate. Unlike Nevada, she does not depend upon mining alone, but h^s-millions of acres of arable land that are rapidly being settled upon. Great irrigation enterprises are being carried on, and vast areas of agricultural land are being brought under ditch in those regions where artificial watering of crops is neces sary, while in other sections where the natural rainfall is ample, thou sands of acres are being brought un der the plow, and prosperous towns | are springing up. The future is full of promise.for Idaho, as she will show at the World's Fair by the splendid exhibit she is now preparing. Idaho possesses vitality and all the requis ites for a strong and populous State. It is a mistake to compare her with Nevada, though even the despised j Silver States will some day move for ward again under the impulse of agricultural development by systems of irrigation. Idaho has these well under way, and is moving to the front rapidly. Nevada can have them, and will in time, though she can never hope to equal Idaho, because she poa- sessess not a tenth of the arable land that can be rendered cultivable in the latter.--[Portland Oregonian.' Sleep (or School ChtldronL' We all know how much grtrtftter 4«l the need of sleep for children than for grown persons, and how necessary for their good it is to be able to fullv satisfy this need; but how great it is generally at any particular age of the child, is very hard to define exactly. ; The amount varies under different. climatic conditions. In Sweden, w« consider a sleep of eleven or twelve hours necessary for the younger school children, and of at least eight or nine for the older ones. Yet, the investi gations have shoWn that this require ment lacks much of being met in all; the classes through the whole school. Boys in the higher classes get little more than seven hours in bed; and, as that is the average, it is easy to per ceive that many of them must content themselves with still less sleep. It is also evident from investigations that the sleeping time is diminished with the increase of the working hours from class to ciass, so that the pupils of the same age enjoy less, according as they are higher in their classes. It thus appears constantly that in schools of relatively longer hours of work the sleeping time of pupils is correspond ingly shorter. In short, the prolong ation of the working hours takes place at the cost of the time for sleep.-- [Science Monthly. Yf., Thought U* Bad a Snr* "He owes me $1,000," said a solid- looking business-man as a dapper- looking young fellow passed him on the street. "You'll never get It,"said the busi ness-man's friend. The business-man smiled incredu lously. "You don't know me," he said. "I thought I was stuck for it once my. self, but I'm all right now. I've beaten him." ^ > ""HOW SO?"' "*'V •' ; i:Kl' "Had him him on the street one day, and when he triod to put me off I told him I was tired of it and took him to the office of an insurance agent and put $3,000 on his life, paid up policy, which I added to his original debt. He can't getaway from me now." "That squared the original debt, didn't it?" "O, yes. Policy wipes it all out. I take that in payment." "And you'll die first." "What?" "He's younger than you and in ex cellent health apparently." There was a moment's silence, and then the business-man said: "By George! I was afraid that scoundrel had some scheme to beat me.w : . . It WM • pointer. •' A call was once made by a dozen noted artists of the Academy of De» sign, in 1870, pn Horace Greeley. Mr. Clarence Cook, then the art-critic of the Tribune,, had been saying things aljout the academy exhibition, which caused the venerable chiefs of that establishment to boil with indigna tion. One day, a committee went down to the Tribune to complain. Mr. Greeley, having listened in $ilence to what these gentlemen had to say, looked up from his desk, a twinkle in his eye, and said, with his peculiar nasal falsetto: • "Gentlemen, I judge from your re marks that Mr. Cook'S articles are widely read. They will, therefore, continue to be printed in the Tribune. Good-morning." MBS. WATTS--How is your girlr Mrs. Patts--Oh, she's a perfect heathen. I left her to straighten things up before the minister called and skM, atv«f evei> d«atod UP I iOP®, OF RA< ID POTA1 a* laterentlng Report by th«r o* kfrlcallars B|g«hlst«4 try l^MIdont-Olktr Cnminltten Report*-- • bin|«r Johns en's A bieut-9tln«*e<tueia» p^RMMI Dispoll^rf. ff HEN the meeffng had been opened in regular form the President an nounced that the regular order of business would be dispensed with in order to bring up such matters as had been crowded out during the past month. Re ports from several committees were due and he would first call up the Chairman of the Com mittee on Agriculture. The report of the committee con tained the foilowing interesting feat ures: 1. Estimated number of water melons grown this year 130,256.07. 2. Increase of persimmons over any other previous year since the ar rival of the Mayflower, 27 per cent. 3. Estimated loss of green corn and new potatoes from the dep redations of raccoons, 11 per cent. 4. Estimated increase of acreage of sunflowers planted by colored peo ple, 34 per cent. The report being finished, the Rev. Penstock arose and observed: "Misser President--I should like some furdder informashun in regard to dose green co'n an' 'taters an' rac coons. 1 neber heard befo' dat rac coons devoured vegetables." "Nor I either," replied Brother Gardner, "but it seems dey do. Whar' a white man has a 'tater-patch backin' up to de cabin of a cull'd fam'ly dem 'taters begins to mysteri ously disappear. I axed dat commit tee to thoroughly investigate de mystery, an' it 'pears to hev done so. Dat cull'd fam'ly doan eben look ober de fence into dat 'tater field. De key to de mystery is de raccoon. He digs up dem 'taters an' carries 'em off to some holler tree, an' in nine cases out of ten de cull'd man is looked upon with suspishun. I am very glad in deed dat de committee investigated dis matter an' placed de blame war it belongs." {Bible PENSTOCK ARISITS: " Penstock didn't seem to be quite Satisfied, and after resuming his seat he was seen to intently consult a pocket-dictionary and an almanac. FOREIGN RELATIONS. --Judge Stand off Tompkins, chairman of tl)e above committee, reported: 1. If Italy intends to lick this country she is keeping very quiet about it. 2. The Behring Sea question re mains in statu quo--slightly more quo than statu, if anything. 3. Relations with Mexico about the same, and the Indians behave themselves remarkably well, consid ering how they have been brought up. 4. Haven't heard from the Czar of Russia for over four weeks, but he's probably working his Siberian claim for all there is in it? 5. The policy adopted by the Cot ton Blossom Club towards the South American belligerents has proved a wise one. Let 'em fight. Let 'em have all they want of It. Don't stop 'em until they get enough for the next fifty years. DOMESTIC HABMONY.--Judge Peace ful White, chairman of the above committee, scored the following points in his report: 1. The Cotton Blossom Club is now working in perfect harmony with thirty-eight different organizations in this country devoted to art, science, music, philosophy and the betterment ^f mankind in general. | 2. Thrill-feeling existing between Giveadam Jones and Sunrise Jackson, arising over a ' 'swap" of dogs, had been entirely cleared away, and the most brotherly feeling now prevailed. 3. Judge Scott, who lives on At- lant.ic avenue, Brooklyn, had discov ered Prof. Ginger Johnson in his back yard at midnight, and a coolness had consequently existed between them for several weeks. The Professor had finally explained that he was there in a state of absent-mindedness, and not With any intention of removing any of the contents of the barrel of soft- soap at the woodshed door, and the Judge had accepted his explanation and extended the hand of brotherly love. The state of harmony existing in the Club at present may be linked to a Georgia colored man sitting in the sunshine with a' watermelon as big as a barrel on each side of him. IT is COMING.--Sir Isaac Walpole then turned over a letter to the Club which had been written to him from the Natural History Department of the State of South Carolina, asking if • it was the opinion of the Cotton Blossom Club that the colored race was gradually but surely improving. As for himself he thought he could see a great improvement, even in the last year. Last year all his neigh bors dumped their ashes, garbage and dead cats into his yard without the slightest thought of his feelings or rights. This year he had even left a clothesline out .two. dark nights in succession and found! it there in the morning, Giveadam Jones could see an im- • y» ^ ' *Y * % ^ .'v: ^ ^ W ~ * | ( t Y ' T&. LY;-:-uu?:s VM0 !*#<?* ̂ "'Yv f TO • ai^apupe qtampps w< rae#/*ho hadpjpirto to»*h|tewash; 5 JcltChen cents and let It go at that, Wajdown Behse was also glad to bear testimony. He knewa man who used to paa» nearly all his time learn ing a pup-dog to jump over a broom stick and stand on hts head. That same man sat down oh a wash tub in the backyard one day and invented a stove-handle which could also be used as a glass-cutter, paper-knife, pototo- masher, xQUing-piny tack-h? tamer, can-opener, bowie knife and cork screw. Samuel Shin didn't want to take up the- valuable time of the meeting, but he wanted to add his testimony as well. The improvement most noticeable to him was in social eti- quettei A year or two ago if he lifted, his hat to a colored woman looking out of a third-story window she seemed to regard him as some dime museum freak,, and, looked around Dor a cabbage* head to heave at him. If he made a call at a friend's cabin from three to five dogs would rush at his legs and the lady of the house would ask him to sit down in the kitchen so that she could wash and talk at the same time. There was a great change in all except the dogs, and he wanted to- express his deep gratification, that such was the fact. "Wall, de Seckretary will answer dat we kin see an improvement," re plied the President. "It may not be a great big one, but dar's plenty of time left an' no occashun for haste." THE ELDER MAKES A BREAK --Elder Toots, who is one of the late arrivals from Detroit, has been keeping very quite and had been looked upon as a deep thinker and a wise philosopher. Great was the astonishment, there fore, when he slowly arose and offered a resolution to the effect that the sum of $25 be voted from the treasury for the purpose of purchasing a pier glass for the ante-room in Watermelon Hall. The motion was not supported and the silence for the next sixty sec onds was so deep that the cracking of Shindig Watkin's toejoints sounded like the explosion of musketry. Brother Gardner looked down upon the Elder in a cold-blooded way and finally replied: "Elder toots, dat tfioshum am not only 16 degrees of longitude out of or der but it betrays a reckless disregard of de eternal fitness of things dat al- moas'paralyzes me; When dis yere Cotton Blossom Club emagines dat it has become so purty, an' de varus members is so filled up wid vanity dat de bizness Of de United States of America mus' go to grass while we grin at ourselves in a lookin'-glass, it iyill be time fur us to disband. ,Yo' has evidently become soft on top of de head. But fur believin' dis to be de case I would fine yo' as high as $28,000 an' costs. Sot right down Elder Toots, an' de less yo' say be tween now an' Christmas de better it will be fur yo'!" The fire was then put out, Che bear- traps set in the lower hall and the meeting dissolved. -- [New York World*. Bow n Ax la Made. The first step in the operation of making an ax, is the formation of the ax head without the blade. The glowing flat iron bars are withdrawn from the furnace and are taken to a powerful and somewhat complicated machine, which performs upon them four distinct operations--shaping the metal to. form the upper and lower part of the ax, then the eye, and fin ally doubling the piece over so that the whole can be welded together. A workman stands by, seizing the partially fashioned pieces one after another with a pair of tongs, and ham mering the lower edges together. Next the iron is put in a powerful natural gas furnace and heated to a white heat. Taken out, it goes under a tilt hammer and is welded together in a second. This done, one blow from the t(drap" and the poll of the ax is completed and firmly welded- When the ax leaves the drop, there is some superfluous metel still adher ing to the edges and forming what is technically known as a "fin." To get rid of this fin, the ax is again heated in a furnace, and then taken in hand by a sawyer, who trims the ends and edges. The operator has a glass in front of him to protect his eyes from the sparks which fly off as the hot metal is pressed against the rapidly revolving saw. The iron part of the ax is now complete. The steel for the Wade, after being heated, is cut by machinery and shaped with a die. It is then ready for welding. A groove is cut in the edge of the iron, the steel for the blade in serted, and the whole firmly welded by machine hammers. Next comes the operation of tempering. The steel portion of the af" is heated by being inserted in pots of molten lead, the blade only being immersed; It is then cooled by dipping in water, and goes to the hands of the inspector. An ax is subject to rigid tests before it is pronounced perfect. The steel must be of the required temper, the weight of all axes of the same sizes must be uniform, all must be ground alike, and in various other ways con form to an established standard. The itspector who tests the quality of the steel, does so by hammering the blade and striking the edge to ascertain whether it be too brittle or not. An ax that breaks during the test is thrown aside to be made over. Before the material of an ax is in the proper shape, it has been heated five times, including the tempering process, and the ax, when completed, has passed through the hands of about forty workmen, each of whom has- dOne something toward perfecting it. After passing inspection, the axes go to the grinding department, and from that to the polishers, who finish them upon emery wheels.--[Manufaoturar and Builder. . Amputate*! Bit Own Toe. ' A gritty fellow in Williamsport, Pa., mashed his toe, but instead of calling in a physician, he diagnozed the case himself, and came to the con clusion that ^imputation was neces sary. He accordingly whipped out his pocket knife and proceeded with his srugical work, and coolly bandaget1 his injured foofcYY.; ' •; ; •J•. <• 5-, r -. 't ' J It) >*> r :f CO voliai lands WHTAK J»*T* Territory, and are now homes. The addition about 820,000 acres of land #hich wf available for settlement and for which the Government gets a dollar au*G«& ^ which is paid to the Indians, leavftwr *.;® . about 280,000 acres of Indian and'Y " ** school landi* The area available for' actual settlement will make 5rOOO',v#?3 homesteads, but as there are several ^ men for every homestead on tho ground of course many thousands will be d i sappo in t ed . Many o f t he boom - i ers who are after town lots in the two Yf county seats, Chandler and Tecum- " seh, will also be disappointed, as they * eannot accommodate half of those who have been waiting to take pos session. Thus it is the old, old story over again. For every one- who sue-- • ceeds in reaching the coveted prize there will be twenty times as many • disappointed ones. Y In time, however, it cannot he 4 doubted that the new addition to the ' Territory will take care of itself. It ^ probably contains the same proportion f i; of good land as.the Territory itself. Y The same scenes which were wit-1 nessed the other day transpired when . Oklahoma was thrown open to set- Y* tlement. There was the same rush across the border, the same disap- Y pointment, the same poverty, priva-' tion, and suffering which must be en- *•' countered in the new addition But, the pioneers of Oklahoma already % have given a good account of them selves. The train which came into Chicago the other day from Guthrie, loaded down with grain, fruits, and vegetables of the new crop, was an .. eloquent and suggestive omen of its future prosperity, and demonstrated that the discouraging reports of its Y" barrenness were unfounded, and this experience will undoubtedly be re peated in the new addition, where J pluck, patience, and industry will yet have their perfect work. The new Territory is to be con gratulated upon the extension of its " area, but the work is far from com plete. Oklahoma is still surrounded on all sides--north, east, west, and A south--by Indians. As many of them V are willing to dispose of their lands, however, the Oklahomaites will not rest content until they have extended their boundaries on all sides and taken in the possessions of the Creeks and Chickasaws on the east and south, the Arapahoes, Wichitas, and Cheyennes on the west, and added the Cherokee strip on the north and northwest, thus carrying their boun daries to the Texas border. By that time, if the present tide of immigra tion continues, Oklahoma will be ' knocking on the door for admission as one of the sisterhood of States. Far in the future, when the Indians have given way before the irresistible march of civilization, another great State will be formed out of the*re mainder of the Indian Territory. Ys S«nten<MM of Oonvlcta. • The Census Office furnishes soitie information as to the sentences im posed by the courts upon prisoners in 1890. ' Of 45,233 prisoners in penitentia ries, fifty-three werej not . sentenced, 2,486 were serving sentences of less than one year, 39,757 had been sen tenced to imprisonment for a definite term of years, 2,688 for life, twelve during their minority, and sixty-two were under sentence of death and awaiting execution. Where sentence for a definite term of years is pronounced, the most com mon sentence is found to be for two years, and then, in the order stated, for five, three, one, ten, four, seven, and six years. Nearly seven-eighths of all penitentiary sentences fall un der one of these eight varieties. There are reported 132 sentences of 50 years and over, of which 55 are for 99 years. The number of "fraction al" sentences is also shown, which was 4,859; and taking them into the account, the total duration of im prisonment for not less than one year, but less than for life, Ordered by the courts, was 228,210 years and 5 months. The average term of sen tence, therefore, is 5 years and §70 days. A tendency to greater severity of sentence is apparent in th» South and West. The average sentence of a native white convict, of native parents, is 5 years and 208 days; of a foreign-born convict, 5 years and 193 days; and of a colored convict, 6 years and 183 days. The average sentence of a male eonvict is 5 years and 285 days; and of a female convict 4 years and* 215 days. . . The differences between the aver age sentences between different States are a surprise. They range from 2 years and 356 day s in Rhode Island to 12 years and 116 days in Mississippi, and seem to be governed by no dis coverable law. States which join each other, and in which the condi tions are presumably similar, mani fest differences in this regard which are unexplained. For instance, the average sentence in New Hampshire is 2 years and 141 days more than in Maine, or about 50 per cent, greater. The difference in averages between Indiana and Illinois is 1 year and 240 * days; between Wisconsin and Michi gan, 1 year and 155 days; between West Virginia and Virginia, 2 years and 66 days; between Louisiana and Mississippi, 7 years ar«d 10 days; and between North and South Dakota, 1 year and 309 days. Coffeo. The annual coffee crop of the world is estimated at over 11,000,000,000 pounds* worth at first hands $135,- 000,000. This enormous quantity is grown In lands between the parallels 30 degrees north and 30 degrees south latitude, mainly in British India and the neighboring islands, in Liberia and Other parts of Africa, in the West Indies, Mexico, Central America, and Brazil. The domestic consumption of the United States amounts to 561,- 132,100 pounds, which is valued here 4 at $72,140,000, and of which 90 per cent, comes from countries geograpb» ically belonging to thto continent <K fa*** i.