•THE LAND -TO-8B. T'f. the purple, buy tre«s < X K 5 *>{ Rimmver's utmost boiUHtarfHj f. ">•$ i'.oyon'l the sauids, foeyi»iid t lw se»«, . :Lj»»A«H:|3eV<Mid the range of eyes liketbettfc 4** '^ '»*« And only in the reach of the • ' f »• £n raptured giuse of memory. 5 ' "• There ]>«s t ho lnnl lo«tr lost to ' ' * Ihe laadof Used-.o-be ^ Ki , ' 'jfc limd ent;ha«t«d, such as swung * ^ ̂ ; Jn Voldpn ecRs when nireu» cluing " : J; v Along the dripping brink*, and sunft * ' Jo .lason in thnt lnvHtic tonpti# £:;* 1 1 hut dftzcl men wfi h its melody; ' , w/ / ' V*#' O. 8H<-h a lund. wi; h such a Kissinfi its shares eto nally. ; v. Is the fair Used-to-be. " -T ,• A tend n-here music pvpr girds , \ Jfha air witli bells of singing bifWte , W:, • - ."An.l BOWS all sounds with such SWEAT WOW9 , < eros in the lowing herds A inoanftic lives so sweet to me; :^r;# IjORt laughter ripples limpidly ,Front lips brimmed o'er with *11 the jlM , ~ Of rare old Used-to-be, laud of love end dreamy thoughts, • ; And shining fields nnd shady spots, ;v" :i "•®f coolest. jjr.-ewist. gmnny plot* ^ r §fuib"SRcd with wild forget-mo-nota. , Anfi nil the blooms that cuuniugly Iiift their fitces up to me, v;- Out«f t^e past; T kiss in thee. Tlie lips of Used-to-be. I lore ye nil. and with wet eyes - turned glimmerinclv on the skiew, *"/ Jiv blo^srDiis like vour )>orfun>es rl«% ! •>*. TTill o'er my soul ft sileu e lies. r-».-'.;Sweeter tlmn anv song to mo. * 'i '• Pwenftev than any melody S Or,sweet echo. yen. a!l three. MT dreams of I'sed-to-ba, m~7_: JW, A NARROW £SCAi'E Urgent busi- * * ' -^^Oome home at once. ness." ^ ceived at the Crown Hotel. Man chester. from my father, a Liverpool wamttt, ^ "• He handed to my father a bank book, which showed that Hall had deposited nearly £400 in one of the local banks on Friday preceding. "But £400 is not the amount taken," ejaculated my father. "But is a part of it," replied the detect've, -'and the rest may be else where. When charged with the theft, Hall seemed dumfounded, and on receiving the usual caution simply replied, 4I am perfectly innocent' He will be brought up to-morrow, and probably committed for trial to the assizes.' The detective then took his leave, awl my father and I remained silent, thinking for some time. At last I said, "Will you let me* have your ^pocketbook, father, and the key of your private office and safe? I shall probably lie there for some time, so Ido not sit up for me." ? My father complied with the re quest, and in less than half an hour I jwas in the office. Certainly there Mid not seem much hope of Hall be ing innocent, but I was determined "to probe the matter to the very bot tom. I had known him from a lad, land, in fact, in our boyhood we had Ibeen schoolfellows in the Liverpool Institute. Open as the day, though somewhat reckless, he seemed the last man to turn out a thief. 1 sat down and carefully examined the pocket-book njy father had givers nic. X thought the matter over on every side, and suddenly an inspiration % ;::K. merchant. I had just completed a j flashed across me. My father always long day's business, and had intended I wrote with a good pencil, and if he to proceed to Oldham and several ( placed the thin paper upon his pock- other surrounding towns before re-jetbookl might find traces of the num bers. Hastily taking from my own desk a small microscope I carefully exam ined the leaves of the book. Here was what I sought., The numbers stood out plainly, &nd I carefully copied them into my own pocketbook. So much of the difficulty being solved, I next turned my attention to the safe. The question had still to be answered, •'How had the thief opened the safe?" I obtained as good a light as I possibly could and made a minute examination of the safe. There seemed to be no marks of rough usage, and it wan evident that it had not A duplicate key, •&.; turning home. However, I made what haste I could, and reached Liverpool about 8pm. I drove rapidly home and found my father In the dining-room pacing from one end to the other, as was his habit when anything troubled or perplexed him. 4iI am clad to see you, lad," he ex claimed, greeting me in his hearty, affectionate manner. "Something has happened in the office which has caused me the greatest uneasiness. Soon after you went away I drew from the bank about £700 in notes. I placed this in the safe in my pri vate office, and locking it in. came home. The next day, Thursday, I opened the safe, and found, to my astonishment, that not a penny of the money remained. I informed the police of the affair, and it has been placed in the hands of a man named Bingley. He seems a shrewd fellow enough, but so far has reported nothing to me. 1 expect him here this evening. It is not so much the loss of the money that I mind as the fact that I must have about the office an untrustworthy servant. Who it is, I must confess 1 have not the remote-t idea." "But, surely, father, you took the numbers of the notes," I queried. <4That l did." he replied; but here is one of the strangest parts of the whole affair. On referring to myn been forced open. then, must have been used. But, as nothing further seemed capable of being found out from the safe itself, 1 locked it and proceeded to examfhe the desks of Richardson and Hall, which were in an adjoining room. In the latter I found a few loose slips of paper--"Nightshade, 20 to 1, Ever ett;" "Eagle's Wing, 30 to 1;" etc., etc. What did these mean? Evi dently it was connected with betting. I folded them up and put them in my pocketbook beside the number of the notes. There seemed to be nothing else which would throw any light on the affair in either my father's room or that of the two chief clerks, so 1 turned out the lights and went home. The next day Hall was brought up before the Magistrates and, the evi dence of the detective having been t §&&& who fti watched 11 ichardson - "Why, what do you < want with him?" said Bingley. "Do you sup pose that it was a put up Job between Hall and him?" "I do not," I replied. "But I am rather inclined to think that Hall may be; entirely innocent, and Rich ardson the solo culprit" And then I told him what had come to my knowledge, both with regard to Hall's betting and Richardson's shady past. He meielv raised his eyebrows, and then, after pondering over the mat ter for a few seconds, said, "Well, you may be right, Mr. Mefedith. and I will do what I can to find out the truth." By this time Rawlins. Bingley's as sistant in the business, had put in an appearance. The only fact of import ance we gleaned from him was that Richardson had been to Bury on the Saturday. Discovering that the lat ter had property in the town lie had attached little importance to the visit, especially as both he and Bing ley had all along regarded Hall as the probable culprit I fancied I could detect a shade of annoyance on Bing- ley's face, perhaps caused by the fact that he had possibly arrested the wrong man, and perhaps a little piqued that he had to thank me for the information, though I had gained most of It accidentally. Two or three days passed* when one evening as I sat with my father in the dining room Bingley was ushered in. He had prosecuted his inquiries about Richardson to some purpose. It seems that he had visited Bury to pay off a mortgage on his property that had become pressing, and the mortgagee had retained the numbers of the notes lie had received. These exactly corresponded with what I had discovered from my father's pocket- book and clearly indicated the real thief. : Tom Hall was discharged from cus tody soon after, but I believe he kept the promise he made me about betting, and is still in my father's office in his old post. He was married soon after his release and has one of the pret tiest and happiest homes in Liver pool. Richardson was convicted on overwhelming evidence, and is now being provided for out of the imperial taxation. The money was recovered, but my father's forgiving nature would not allow him to see the family of even a dishonest servant in want, and he assisted the Richard sons largelv as long as they needed it --Utica Globe. THE GHGAT NAVIGATOR'S TERESTING CAREERIC IW- pocketbook the next day I found j given, he was committed for trial to this slip of blank paper," and he held out to me a thin sheet of such paper as I bad observed him usiug on pre vious occasions for the entry of the numbers of bank notes. < "And who saw you deposit the money in the safe?" "There was no one in the room ex cept old Richardson and Tom Hall," be answered, "and to suspect either of them seems impossible." "Where did you enter the num bers?" was my next question '.^Asl sat at my writing'table." "..^tSDn what did you plac? the paper?" the assizes, bail being refused. He re served his defense and was removed to jail. I asked for and obtained per mission to see him. He seemed very much cast down and troubled by the thought of the pain his arrest must have caused his mother and sweet heart. "But, Mr. Meredith,', he said to me, "I am utterly innocent of the theft, I hope you, at any rate, will believe me. The matter of the money standing to my credit in the bank can be easily explained, though I felt that I could not urge it in my defense to-day. lb fact mv solicitor •r- -k- "As well as I can remember, on i advised me not to bring it forward, my pocket-book," he answered, j as at present there is only my own "Stay, now I call it to mind, there | unsupported evidence for it The as- were several other pieces of paper ex-! sizes come on in a week, and by then activ like it lying on my desk. After ! I hope further corroboration will be entering the numbers I doubled up | available. I received certain inform- the paper and put the money into the j ation about a fortnight ago that «afe.M , ; 1 Nightshade, a rank outsider, as he "Leaving your pocketbook on the was considered, stood a good chance desk, I presume?" "Yes," he replied. •Then that is one step gained. The thief took the numbers away and in serted one of the blank sheets of for the St Leger. I know that I was foolish for betting on the race, but events proved that I was rightly informed. It was my hrst bet, and shall be my last Everett, the great j betting man in one of the local clubs, pallor came ov^r mv! offered to lay 20 to 1 against Night- To accept the truth of i shad<?, and I backed the horse for £20. On Thursday last he paid me £400, the greater part of which I banked on the next day." I immediately called to mind the slips of paper in my pocket, on one of paper." A sudden fathers face. my inference was to believe in what be had declared impossible of cre dence. "Who was nearest the table," was my next query." "while you placed that money in the safe?" 'Tom Hall stood within about three yards of the table,and Richard son was Close to me when I lockea the safe!" answered my father in a shaky voice. "It looks black for Hall," he went on more slowly. "I almost wish I had not called in the police. I would rather lose the money al together than break his poor mother's heart" which was "Nightshade, 20 to 1, Everett" It seemed clear to me that llall was speaking the truth, and I promised to do all that I could to ob tain the evidence of Everett on the point, and to supply him with a good counsel at the trial. The next day I was called awav to j are in good condition. Leeds on business of importance con nected with the firm, and on return- i ing in ttye evening found myself in Old Paper la Never Wasted. "There is no such thing as. waste paper," said the junk dealer. "Hardly a scrap of white paper is ever wasted. Every bit oi it that is thrown away is carefully gathered tip and finds its way eventually to the mill again, to be made over. The note-book in your hand may furnish material for the pages pn which you will write a letter six months hence and perhaps, a year later you will unknowingly And it incorporated in a summer novel with yellow covers. Thus the stock of paper that supplies the world is used over and over again indefinitely through the medium of the scaven gers, the dealers in junk, and the fac tories, which are continually engaged in transforming the discarded mater ial into fresh and clean sheets. "Brown paper, however, is differ ent Because it is composed of nothr ing more valuable than straw it is mostly thrown away and never used again. I would not pay you 25 cents for a ton of it A few years ago old newspapers were worth four cents a pound, being made of rags. Now they are manufactured out of wood pulp $nd straw and their market value is only a quarter of a cent a pound. Office papers, such as old bills and such scraps, are worth the same as newspapers, while what we call ^office sweepings,' composed largely of envelopes, are quoted at 15 cents a hundred weight The kind of paper tor which I pay the highest price is such stuff as led gers with the covers torn off and other line writing {taper. For that kinc. of material I will give a $1.25 a hundred weight 'Reading books are worth 50 cents a hundreu pounds. Ordinary mixed white paper has a value of 15 cents a hundred. Old metals I pur chase just as I do waste paper. For old iron I pay 25 cents a hundred weight and for old lead 3$ cents a pound by the quantity. Olid copper is worth 7 cents a iildfcind, and old brass fetches from V to 6 cents. There are people who deal in second hand machinery, but A only buy it as old iron. Safes, wheels, and dumb bells I buy and sell as Wtoen they •l i rt ir/w) AAII/1 i f irvn 1" v' jst at this moment a stranger to 1 company with Mr. Nelson, a Man was announced, and entered the i Chester merchant., well-known to me. It was Bingley, the detective. We were alone in the compartment, Ijras, indeed, a shrewd-looking fel-! and could converse freely. He had «nd well known in his profession I seen the report of the robbery in the as a skillful tracker of criminals. "Any news?" asked my father, whe;n j the detective was seated. "Yes," he answe.ed, "I mUst con-! fess it was rather a puzzling case, but it is clear enough now. As you placed ! the matter in our hands, with instruc tions to prosecute, I have arrested j«jgbire?" Tom Hall, and be is now in IJ^lj^! '"1 believe to, papeis, and opened a conversation on the subject. I spoke freely to him, and told him the main facts of the case. When I had finished, he said: "Is this Richardson's name Henry?" "It i J," 1 replied. , "Is he a native of Bury, in Lan- l-KS t®' vjfcfrh-, A' • ' • ? #V- street safe enough." "You must be mistaken, Bingley," said my father. "Hall cannot have done such a thing. It will kill his mbther." ^'Unfortunately, sir," the detective replied, "the evidence is only too strong; and as to his mother -- well, criminals are not given tothinkingof we feelings of their relatives iill the ' Crime has been discovered." j ' 1 besjged my father to be seated, that we might hear fully what the . evidence was U]x>n which the de- i Motive had arrested Hall. 1 < "It added to the difficulty of my task that the nuinl.ers of the notes Were missing," the detective wenton. ^However, I shadowed Hall, and "Bichardspn was watched by another , member of the force. On Sunday evening I met Hall with his sweet heart, and noticed that she wore a Splendid diamond brooch, which had . (evidently been given her by Hall, as Jfchey were talking about it, and,walk- ilig behind them, feoverheard every Word. Sbe was urgi ng h i m to be more Careful of his money, and he laugh ingly replied:; 'Oh! never mind, tjhere'8 plenty more where that came as he has property there." "What firm did he come to you from?" was his next question. When 1 gave him the name of the firm he sat in silence for a second or two and then began: "Well, it is rather a serious thing to say, but Richardson must be the same man who, as a boy, was dis missed by my father for dishonesty. French Fit**. People as a rule do not run to fires in Paris as they do in British cities, lor, alas! there is a police regulation whicb sets forth that if there is no tlre-pltig within reasonable distance of the burning house, the male pass ers-by may " be pounced upon and made to stand in a row and pass buckets from the nearest courtyard pump. ^ I remember once gazing witn the most unmixed delight that fills the soul of the average spectator when something ridiculous befalls some one whom you do not know, and watch ing the police stop their prey and st anding them in line to extinguish a small fire vety near our own house. There came past a tall, dignified man,t evidently a lawyer,; who was rushing along in a great hurry, read ing an imposing document as he went. He did not notice the crowd, so ran headlong into the midst of it, and was promptly seized by the police He had posted numerous business j He argued, he raved, he showed his letters and kept the money he re-; document, but his remonstrances ceived for stamps. At last com-i were, useless, for he was suddenly Ili» K*|>loror> Kwrty Ufti - Year* Pfc- • ilent Waiting tor AMIMHIIV* to Carry Out His Flan* - HI* Voyage*, Achieve- . iiwati ami t Itetlo Oeitk. > ^ f -ST $ / The Idol of the WwrML In the world's history there is no more striking figure than that of Christopher Columbus; no individual career so full of romance, tragedy and pathos; no achieve ments so momentous as his. He gave to civilization a new world and died in pov erty; he gave to freedom a home and was hltnself cnchalned. In his seventy years of life he sealed the heists of human grandeur and soundod the depths of hu man misery. Yesterday a visionary dreamer, to-day the Idol of the world, to morrow a forcolton, neglected, broken hearted, penniless old man. History waited long to do him limine, and It was not until the present century that the mists which iiad gathered around hitn were cleared away and the true story of tils life and work given to his benefici- iries. As the results of hlsacblevomnnts have grown in importance the greatness of his deeds has been magnified, and 'now, kt the end of f^ur centuries, comes the Crowning monument to his memory, the World's Columbian Exposition. Christopher Columbus, son of DonUuic self to Qaeen litbeliak and returned with money for CdlumtaM to fit him for ap pearance at court. 'Again the navigator explained his pro ject to the Spanish sovereigns, but the terms upon which he Insisted were con sidered exorbitant and his proposition was rejected . Columbus left the court and once more set his face toward Franca But he still had friends in the persons of Perez, Alonso deQuintanilla and Lulsde San Angel, who remonstrated with Fer dinand and Isabella. The king said that the money could not be spared, but Isa bella exclaimed, "I undertake the enter prise for my own crown of Castile!" and offered to pledge hor jewels to raise the necessary funds. A fleet courier was sent off on horsoback, who overtook Col- un^bus jogging across the bridge of Pinos, near the foot of Mount Elvira, six miles from Granada, and brought him back. An agreement was speedily ar rived at, and all he asked was conceded. April 17, 1492, the agreement with Col umbus was signed, and May 12, behold Columbus, eiate with joy. leaving Gran ada and by way of Cordova, Seville,; Huelva and Magner hastening on to the little port of Palos to superintend the fit ting out of the expedition. Three ships were secured--the Santa Maria,a decked vessel, and the Plnta and Nina, caravels or undecked vessels. Trouble was found In procuring a crew, and it was only by impressment that a sufficient number of seamen could be obtained to man the vessels. Columbus took command of the Uvt? - *** m i* AKBIVAL, OIT COLUMBUS' FLEET AI' SABT- SALVADBFI}E.' Co>umbus, weaver of woolen cloth, and Suzanna Fontanarossa, his wife, was born iu 1435, on St. Andrew's street, in Genoa, in one of the two bouses owned by his father. The house is still pointed out, a narrow four-story dwelling. The family, which lived for a time at Savona, was composed of the parents and four sons, Christopher, James, John, ancf Bartholomew, and one daughter, Bian- chineta, who married James Bavereilo, a cheese dealer. The fSmily were com fortably well off. Columbus' parents sent him to school, and later to the University of Pavia, seventy miles north, over the Appennines. Here he studied cosmography, astronomy, grammar ana Latin, in which be became proficient. When young, only 14 years old. he went to .sea. About 1470, he followed his younger brother, Bartholomew, to Lis bon. where all the ablest navigators of Europe gathered, attracted by Prince Henry's projects of discovery,° and his school of navigation. Columbus alternated his voyaging with map and chart-makiug. Now he went on a voyage down the Guinea coast and again, as in 1477, beyond Iceland. At cwnsTofyy (ttmen \-S CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. plaints reached us of letters arriving without stamps and the culprit con fessed. This was not the only case of his dishonesty, and he was sum marily discharged" Our conversation then branched off to other topics, but from Manches ter to Liverpool I had much food for thought The fact that Richardson was standing nearest my father when he locked the safe might merel? be a blind, intended to throw suspicion lifted from his feet and carried, like a shipwrecked wheelbarrow, into the courtyard, and I beheld him npjmote. He had opposed the French police, ]so was promptly crushed into siltgection by that judical juggernaut /. j FIRST BURGLAR--I guess this is the : wimtnin's apartment, Jim. ; jSecond ! Burglar--Then take my adVice and | keep, out There ain't no fun robbin' a woman. She screams so like blazes. on Hall. He would have sufficient j It 'pears ter me that wimmln folks time to change the papers and go to • ain't got no regard fur no one's feel- my father's side before the safe was in's but their own! locked. It evidently needed invest!- --, gation. WHAT is the most desirable lore* vf >•' f >' xdjtT, 4 On the following mornU|g. % made ; lajot^ Tfae marriage ceremo^ Lisbon, in 1473, he married Pbilippa Perestrello, the chatming daughter of the Italian navigator. Bartholomew Per- estrello, Governor of the Canarv Island of Porto Santo; and to that island they went to make their home. Here he con- cefved the idea of searching the mys terious West The charts of his father- in-law, now dead, the innumerable legends of the Isles of St. Beardan and the Seven Cities, of Antillia and Brest], the strange remains cast pn the shore, drifted by Atlantic currents, all strengthened the idea of reaching Cathay and India by sailing westward. In a few years he returned to Lisbon, but was off on long voyages very often. He also recefved in 1474, a letter trom Paul Toscanelli, the great Florentine geographer, which did moro than any thing else to fix him firmly in his belief, and with it a map that confirmed all he had dreamed. The letter said: "From the City of Lisbon duo west, there are twenty-six spaces on the map, each of which contains 350 miles, as far as the very groat and splendid City of Quinsay." It was coming to be well understood among scientific men that the world was a globe, and Ptolemy's mistake was pushing the eastern portion of Asia too far east. Columbus got the idea lirmly fixed that by sailing 2,500 mites west ward he would find Marco Polo's Cipango, or Japan. King John of Portugal, after getting Columbus' plans, tried secretly to send an expedition to discover the lands the existence of which Columbus so firmly believed in; but the seamen became terrified, and the leaders were compelled to return to Portugal. Columbus was deeply wounded by this dishonorable trick, and, his wife having died, he in 1484 secretly left Portugal, taking his 6on, Diego, with him. Leaving the boy with an aunt at Huelva, ho went to Cordova to lav his project beforo Ferdinand and Isabella. Ills scheme was referred to a council of learned men, Including th«V professors of the University of Salr.manca. Th«» council decided that the project was visionary and irre ligious, and the navigator came very near to arraignment before the tribunal of the Inquisition. " Aided by Isabella. Several years longer Columbus waited. At last, worn out and disappointed, he determined to leave Spain, and in 1491, accompanied by his sou Diego, he sctout to lay his plans before Charles VII. of France. A mile and a half from Palos he'stopned at the Franciscan monastery of La llabida, on a headland overlooking the sea, to ask food for his son. The prior, Juan Perez de Marchena, who had been Isabella's former confessor, became interested in his story, and sent for sev- Santa Maria, Martin AlonzaPinzon the Plnta and Vicentl Yanez Pinzon the Nina. The Pinzon brothers had helped Columbus to contribute one-eighth of the expense which the navigator had as sumed. Tne Fleet Sets 8al̂ . . On the 3rd of August, 1492, the fleet left the port of Palos headed for the Can ary Islauds, which were reached with out incident, except an accident to the Pinta's rudder. Columbus stood directly West from Gomera on the 6th of Sep tember. On the 9th they lost sight of Ferro. The next day they ran 180 miles, but Columbus, who distrusted bis crew with good reason, onlv recorded 144 in his log book, and thus kept a double entry all the voyage. On the 13th there was a great consternation at the discov ery that the needle no longer pointed to the pole star, and it took all Columbus' ingenuity to explain the marvel and prevent, alarm, and even he was not sat isfied. On the 16th the ships entered the Sargasso Sea, the vast floating prairie of seaweed. Ail thought they were in shoal water, but soundings showed a great depth, now known to be over two miles. The sea seemed to be thick, but the fresb breeze drove them steadily on, and they plowed with even keels through* this ocean meadow. On, on they went. Never was voyage so beautiful. Balmy nature calmed her fears, and all the grisly terrors of the unknown sea were dissipated in thin air by this voyage, the most important since the ark. On the 22d they were clear of the Sar gasso Sea and 1,400 miles trom the Canaries, and three days later the im patience of the crew became very marked. Suddenly the wind which bad blown steadily westward changed its course to the east, and quieted the fears of the men lest thev should never be able to get back to Spain. A great tidal wave swirled round the ships on the same day, and on the Stith land was de scried trom the Plnta. Cannon were fired, hymns of praise sung, and prepara tions made to land the next day, when the dawn revealed that) the supposed land was only a cloud. Oct. 4, the im patience of the crew broke into open re volt. While Pinzon demanded that the Admiral should hang the leaders, the al ways forgiving Columbus soothed them and pointed to the sigus of land, green branches, and reeds floating by. Us1 the who landed, tn the presence of the Nota- ry, Rodrtffo Sanchez, took solemn pOMe»« slon of the Island in the names of the Castiilan sovereigns, atyd gave 14 the name of San Salvador. After years of dispute, it is now set tled by the researches of Rudolph Cro- nau in 1890 that the place of Columbus' land fall was near Riding Kockfc, on the THK SASfTA MARIA, west side of Watlings Island, the east ernmost of the Leucayan group. It ls a low, flat island, thirteen miles !ong,g by from four to six miles wide, with a large lagoon called Great Lake in the western portion. On the southeast is a series of reefs and ro'.ks, known as Hinchinbroke Rocks. Its whole southern, eastern and northern sides are lined with cliffs and reefs, and at tts northern end is a capa cious harbor now known as Graham's Harbor, large enough, as Columbus says, "for an ample harbor for all the ships of Christendom, but the entrance is very narrow." The highest bill on the island is only 140 feet high, and streams of water abound. On Sunday, the 14th, Columbus ordered out the boats, and coasted northeast along the island to Graham's Harbor, which, he says, "contains some rocks, but the sea is there as still as the water in a well." He saw a sort of peninsula, "a piece of land like an island, although it is not one, with six houses upon it, whicb in two days could be cut on and converted into an island.' To-day there is there a tine lighthouse, and in place of the trees and the great verdure, there a^e only a tew palms and a small num ber of agaves. The island is named Watlings Island, from an Englishman who bought the island for the purpose of raising sheet;. On January 4, 1493, Columbus set sail for Spain, and on February 12 began a four days' storm, during which Colum bus, fearful of being sunk, prepared a history of this most memorable of voy ages, hid it in a cake of wax, enclosed in a cask, and set it adrift. On the 15th of March he sailed Into the harbor of Palos, amid the rejoicings of the people. Fast as/the news could spread over Europe, raih the intelligence that beyond the Sea of Darkness Columbus had found the islands surrounding Cipango, and the way to Cathay was opened. Nearly a month later he made a triumphant pro cession to the court at Barcelona, He was received by the sovereigns with the highest honors, and placed beside them, he told the story of his voyage. Columbus made four great voyages in all and on May 19. 1502 his last began. He touched at Martinique,reached Santo Lomingo, touched at islauds near Jam aica, again coasted Cuba, landed at Hon duras, and rounding Cape Gracios a Dios explored the coast of Veragua. His fleet w RATUB Off COLUMBUS Land Is Sighted. On the night of the 11th, Columbus, whose excitement was great, and who gave but few hours to sleep, while stand ing on the bow ot the Santa Maria, saw a light which appeared and disappeared. He called to a triend who also saw the light, and the cry "a light! a light!" was echoed from ship to ship. The moon in > third quarter shone brightly, and at 2 o'clock a sailor first saw the land. It was now October 12, and thirty-three days from Ferro and ten weeks from Palos, they had found the islands of Cathay. Tho tide had drifted them to the westward, and they dropped anchor in a beautiful spot with a sloping beach, protected on the north by a reef and COLUMBUS EGO AT GENOA EXHIBITION. sprinkled over with green trees iand glassy slopes. Naked natives issued from all parts of the woods and with astonishment looked at the ships as great white birds that had suddenly swooped down on their shores. At dawn the boats were manned and made for the shore. Columbus, richly dressed in scar let, and bearing the royal standard, was followed by the Pinzons, each with a banner bearing a green cross having on either side the letters F. and Y. sur mounted by crowns, for Ferlnand and Ysabel. To their sea-wearied and longing eyes, &e land, beautiful with palms, grceu grass, and bushes, with streams of wa ter, and Rurrounded by a crystal sea,and bathed in the ambient air and sunshine of perpetual summer, seemed a very nar- lantoftCoiiunbus fell oti kis was only able to reach Jamaica, where he ran it ashore. Here, stranded, lie re mained for nearly a year, while mutiny, murder and severe illness prostrated mind and body. At last, reaching His- paniola, he sailed for Spain, reaching there November 7, 1504. Thus ended the last and most painful of bis voyages, Old and infirm, his pat roness dead bis claims rejected by the ungrateful Ferdinand, he lived in pov erty and obscurity in Valladolid until May 20, 1506, when he died. His re mains lay unnoticed In the Convent of St. Francis until 1513, when Ferdinand had them removed to Seville and erected a monument, with the inscription "To Cas tile and Leon Columbus gave a New World." Twenty-three years later the remains were again removed, this time to San Domingo, where they were entombed In the great Cathedral. In 179t> they were supposed to have beeu removed by the Spanish Government and re-entombed in the Cathedral at Havana, a bust and tablet commemorating the event. A discovery of a small vault in the Ca thedral at San Domingo September 10, 1877, revealed the fact that it was not Columbus' remains that were removed, but that thoy still repose in a leaden box in that place. On this island, where he spent the most anxious years of his life, his remains still rest, and there rises one of the many beautiful monumeuts to his memory Jedge WaxenTs ITovert*. When a na-hutial legislator read a newspaper er two, he ain t worth shucks. Polliticks is like the penitenshary, a heap site easier gettin' in than get* tin' out uv. Laberin' men has rights that other laberin' men air bound to respeck. A man that sells his vote neyver enjoys the proseeds. Practickel pollitishums don t werk for love. . , The prosperous farmer ain't findjn' much fault with the old parties. The summer gal may ware galluses, but she don't want to vote. Purty wimmen ain't goin' round beggin' men for suffridge. Diplomats keep their mouth shet; that's why more Congressmen ain't diplomats. The Lord and money makes United States Senators.--Free Press. You can never get women to vot* intelligently. They are too mocb afraid of doing something that some Other woman is going to do • s' 2 '*' - Win m«r» Be Mmy WtOmn «r the !** ' "... .War. .. The question what sort of business is the healthiest has been often and much discussed, but its settlement seems to have been left for us. Farm ing has been regarded as a salubrious occupation, and invalids and con valescents of various degrees and classes have often had agricultural activity prescribed by their doctors as a sanitary measure. Bank presidents and judges of courts are known to be long-lived, and many people who are out of a job and not very well would jump at the chance of accepting either position. But statistics show that there are no more healthy people in the worjd than war widows, i'ar be it from us to speak lightly of their drearv lot; but it is proper seriously to allude to the extraordinary tenacity which thev exhibit, and to ask some explanation of it from the philosophers who deal with the tables of vital phenomena^ Loot1 at the war of 1812, for fnf- stance. It ended seventy-six year$ ago, and the inference would na turally be that most of the active participants must have disappeared. But Commissioner Raum's report shows that during the last eighteen years no less than 34,917 soldiers of that war have stood up and .asked for pensions, and that during the same period 44,872 widows of that war have applied for pensions--nearly one- third more than of living participants.. During the current year $38,847 have been paid !• pensions to the surviving soidiers of the war of 1812, and $1,263,239 to their surviving widows --providing for more than thirty wo men to one living man. The Revolutionary War furnishes a still more astonishing example. Its last gun was fired more than 109 years ago. None of its soldiers survive. The last one died a generation since. J&ut more than 3,000 widows of that war were alive to attend his funeral, and Qen. Raum assures us that twenty-three of the venerable ladies are alive yet Five of the ladies do not bear the names of the heroes whose relicts they are, though the law explicitly withholds pensions from widows who have remarried. The Scotch diminu tive "ie" is entirely missing, and the good old name "Nancy" appears six times, interspersed with "Esther," "Meridy," "A6enath," and "Lovey." Fourteen of these ladies are more than eighty-five years old, and no less than three are ninety-eight. This is extraordinary longevity, and its par allel will probably be found among no other class of human beings. The very youngest of these ladies is only seventy-tw<i, and the fact suggests and enforces a significant conclusion. She must have married wh$n she was sixteen a veteran of seventy-three, who was only fourteen when the Rev olutionary war began and twenty when it closed. In fact, all of these revered dames*were babes who mar ried soldiers old enough to be their grandfathers. If this junior lady of seventy-three lives to be one hundred as some of her sister pensioners doubt less will, she will see the sun rise in 1917, one hundred and twenty-six years after the close of the Revolu tionary War, and fifty-one years after the death of the last of its heroes. The question which now • arises is, will there be any widows of the war for the Union alive in the far-off Vear 2000, one hundred and t<?n years from now, and if so, how many£-- Frank Leslie's Magazine. * i & j f g - H e J L o s t H i s F i s h . • !i?rivate Sam pson was spending bis * flfrst summer in Montana, where he had ample opportunity to indulge in his favorite sport of trout-fishing. One afternoon he had been unusually successful but just as be was setting out for camp with ,a heavy string of fish, he caught sight of a great pine which had bloWh down and was lying with its top in the water;' just the place for hooking a monster trout. He had been fishing up a deep and rapid mountain stream, the banks of which wen/ thickly grown with brambles and service-betry' bushes, among which he had to thread, his way, his rod in 'ope }hand (ands; his heavy string of fish In thfe bUMr. * Pushing along to the fallen folne, he climbed upon it by jdint of :hard scrambling, "holding on a? best he could with both hands full. The tree was close to the bank, apd the stream was boiling. He was in the midst bf the branches, crowding onward, when suddenly, just over th6 roaring tor rent, something on the other side of the tree rose up close beside him--an immense she-bear, with her cubs be side her. . There was no time to hesitate-* To run was impossible, and she was com ing toward him, growling savagely. On the impulse of the moment Samp son dashed his string of trout full in her face! In so doing he lost his bal ance, and the next moment there was a tremendous splash and he disap peared in the boiling water. He emerged some distance farther down the stream. He scrambled to the bank and looked back. There on the pine sat the bear, intently watch ing the hole where the man had disappeared. Sampson did not go back to inform her that he was not there, but macke for camp at good speed. « He Objected. People who object to paying fees for every service should take courage from the example of Lord Palmerston. When he was made knight of the garter, he inquired of the kiug-at» arms, who brought him a bill a yard long, if it was absolutely necessary to pay such heavy fees. "Realiy, my Lord, I have never heard such an inquiry, was the indig nant rejoinder. "Perhaps not," said Palmerston, coolly, "Imt I wish to know whether these charges can be enforced law?" &¥ "I believe not," was the reply. ^ "Very good. Then 1, sMali not: pay them." • * 'THM' . ; "Then I, on my part, shall cer tainly decline to hang taqr lordship's banner over your stall in Saint George's Chapel," s^id the indignant herald. "All right I never go to chapelv at Windsor, anyhow. 1 sh&Il not paj those fees." v/ kf ' ' JJT. * n ...i!U..." - .!„*« *