(tin *tly ***** tbe „ . tow who to lata, id bt, *0 took in and roe* it oa «rRy chair, tal all itoniid «>n sit or lund, in ailsace like tmcm* and tonnled heads ana oount- liiiti" tint bo "y thinks of himielf -"How O»¥" tr> shop, from door to door, be makee inniouR round. Will rest from hla eager quest while an B place is found: afed rmtiena the same old crowd in ...fjrmimhilliM. „„ .... Sot kaMB<« tbB chime on tlie same old rhyme |V --"How many ahead of ine?" W*tim roan who ootnes last, at bank, train, or feast wants over to be served tirat; WlMJt jenatom aaav bold aa centuries oM ha . .' ciltnon iso have rev erred; Ta filWrtTmantl potitioR. business and play, on :laad«r deep rolling eea, , - Ma can hear hia wild about as be gets crowded oat--"How many ahead of me?" And one of tbe-e day a when lifes weary way a Jj* jttpll end in tne region of re.t, WbaifttellDe has passeJ through, at the tall ig^tha cue he will stand at the Oate 01 the Wbeu the door is shut fast and St. Potor at I.Mt hu locked it and thrown down the key. C?:i * ' p of tired, disheartened, IwiTimllifl tattered, powtler-begriiMNl •tM^toae in gray uniforms, others it ordinary dress-- or its remnan tn--gathered about a small lire in a nook of the bills. They were a few of the scattered Confederates whom accident and com mon sympathy bad brought together. After eating a meager supper, one of j the number was selected to do sentry duty for tbe night and while tbe a pi matter, a very sad memory, rar- hap* I might think it ton hard if 1 could be assured that she Is at rest, but doubt, suspense, hoping against hope, and tearing all Imaginary ill for one who may yet be alive, are In deed bard to bear. She was so young, gentle* tender, good and beautiful; and to think of how she disappeared, leaving no more trace than a name W THE BATTLEFIELD, j i.v than a boy who was to be sentry, went on doty. A long time he sat) near the little Are which they had lighted to keep him warm, when a voice called out, just loud enough for him to hear, "Mar's Frank: Mar's I Frank!" The next instant an old negro crept cautiously into the light, j exclaiming: j "Mar's Frank! I's glad it an) you." ••Why. Uncle Sam, how on earth do you come to be here?" j *Tse gwinc tell y'u, Mar's Frank. __ ' Bat's what i's hyuh to*. Befo'.Misss i At th- y turn liira mv to tbe left he will say-- J (|ied" - i ' H<*W NI"»Y AHEAD J „Aunt Silvia dead U did not know ; she had died." j "No, sah; but I know'd it, caze 1j was dar. Blgge&t fun'l you ebber j saw, Mar's Frsqlt,' She mighty good 1 woman." , I "Poor Aunt Silvia! She was in-! deed a gooa woman, deserving and 1 winning the love of all who knew her. She was a second mother to my sister Eunice and me " "Me too, Mar's Frank. Well, be- to* she die She saywhen she gone I be to take Missy Eunice to J edge Wadlcigh's, up toy the Lunenburg co't house She write him an' he writ back he mighty glad ler to hab he's dear little niece wid him. Well, dat was a while befo' she so dre.t e sick. Ater de fun'l I stat wid Miss Eunice fer Jedge Wadieigh's. We was ridin1 a boss an' a sojer come er- long an' he eonUstercated dat hoss. I'd a thought he jest tun him, but he said he conflstercated him, so 1 couldn't say nuffln'. Hen we walked, 'ceptin' when der chile was so tired I ca'y huh. We git to Jedge Wad leigh's an' da want no Jedge Wad leigh's. De place was all bu'n; de b g house an' de ouahtahs an1 de babns. Wa'n't nobody fer to tell us noftin'. I git mighty sca't myse'f, 'deed I did, an' Missy Eunice she cry fer 'brudder Frank,'says he haint got nobody ler in de wo'ld but 'brud der Frank.' an' begged me to take v ' -- : r ^';s- ^ the son was well up in the eastern t-Y" ' % sky, yet only a half light penetrated tbe dense North Carolina pine for est, through which two weary way farers were trudging northward, near- Ing Petersburg. One was a colored man, past middle a^e, but how far it would have been ha d to sa^.since, although bis woolly head was well frosted and his thick eyebrows white as snow, there were lew wrinkles in his face, and his frame still seemed •Igoro. s. His companion was a lit tle white girl, not more than 9 \ears old, daintily dressed and exceedingly prettv. The deep carpet of pine needles upon which they walked «wallnwei up the sound of their footsteps, and, as t'ey went silently forward for some time, they might well have seemed to a superstitious observer, an ill-assorted pair of ghosts / •'Wha'dat?" suddenly exclaimed tbe darkey, in a start ed, and excited tone, pausing with one foot raised others lay down to deep the bright, i written in water, sometimes almost handsome young fellow, hardly more j unmans v ? > 'Indeed, I sympathize With you deeply, Capt. Be'verly. May X ask the circumstances of your bereave ment/" •lIt occurred in April, 186.% I was in the fight at Hatch's Run"--- "5o was I," interpolated the Colonel, in an undertone. »• and that night 1 got word that a foolish old slave had tried to bring to me, in the army, my little sister Eunice, that I might tell him where he should carry .her. Suddenly they found themselves on the verge of the battlefield. The old darky ' became frightened, put her in what i he thought a safe hid ing pi ace and ran I away. When he guided me back to ! where he had left her, he found ' only trampled ground and blood. She j was gone. And the cioud of mystery I that then fell ut on her fate has | never since been lifted." ! Col. Swift listened attentively, but ] said nothing more than to offer sym- | path.v. That evening the Captain f was the guest of the Colonel at his ; home j were, upon entering tne / j parlor, received by two ladles, one of j middle age, who were introdu ed as j "My wife, Mrs. Swift;" the other a ! lovely girl, of whom the Colonel said, I "My adopted daughter, Miss Eunice." : For a minute the young man and | the girl stood staring at each other, ! without word or movement, as If ! paralyzed by surprise. Then, with I simultaneous cries, "Brother Frtnk!" *ar ^4. • - :the re- late President Carnot iM «UtMtfbed. was originally tbe Church of Ste. Genevieve, says the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Its relig ious uses were abolished and its name changed during tbe revolution of lti»i restored by Louis X VHi., and again 'tiecuictmea vy decree of May 24, 1885. Clovits tne founder of the French monarchy (46 <-511),-built a church on it near the spot to St. Peter and St. Paul, which afterward became acelebrat d abbey, where Ste Genevieve, the patron saint or Paris, was buried In 512. Tbe present ediHce was sug gested to Louis XV. by his mistress Mme. de Pompadour, and the tirst stone was laid by that sweet-scented Klogt Sept. tt, 1764. Tfceehunh was intended tc be a reproduction on a small scale of St. Peter's at Koine, and the cost of production was met by the proceeds of a royal lot.terv. The plan is a Greek cross, 302 feet in length, by 255 transverse. The por tico. approached by eleven steps oc cupying the entire bieadtb, presents a front of six tinted Corinthian col umns, (50 feet in be ght by « in di ameter, which, with sixteen internal ones, support a triangular pediment 124 feet wide by 22 feet hight This pediment contains an elaborate sculpture in relief representing France dispensing honors to some of her greatest men. The dome is 66 feet in diameter and from the pave- ... , . , . . . , ment to its top is 268 feet. The in- if i EtiL J? iUU^> terlor of the church is very beautiful upon entering the ^Colonel s j jn jts ^esjKa an(| decorations some ' of the frescoes being the work of fa- : mous artists and especially tine. That part to the purposes of which the building is now dedicated is be- | neath, where are lo ated a large i number of vaults constructed of im- 1 mense atones laid together without i mortar or cement of any kind. Among the notable people buried j i _ m » i here are Sou filet, the architect of the and -My sister " thev spraQg | cburch. Laarar ge, the mathoma --^ " Seeing them ! ° ° ' each other's artns. to- tician; Marshal Launes, Duke of gether no one could have wondered | M<„u„bello: Carnot. Napoleon's Mln. that the Colonel had found the feat-! )stcr War and Kran<,/ather ot the ures of the Southern Captain strange ly af miliar. At dinner theo'ad soldier explained: "From tbe moment you spoke of the old darkey hiding the little girl awav, the mystery was at an end for me. Some of your boys made a pretty stiff stand behind the big rocks, where be had hidden her, and her to 'brudder Frank.' An' 1 'pin- ! there was hard fighting around there. ». „ . "WHi' DAT?" EXCLAIMED THE DABKET. in the air, .as rt ready to be' set down in a i^CTse direction for instant flight. "A cannon!" answered the child, a«d instantly, as if to emphasise tbe ' correctness of tbe guess, the com- - bined roars of a number of great guns Ued the air, and seemed to set tbe rtn trembling. The first shot was doubtless tbe nal for a general attack, but by bom and upon what, tbe wander ers could not know. And they could Mot even tell, with any satisfying Certainty, tbe direction frcm wbic i tjjiose terrifying sounds came. "Uncle Sam," exclaimed the little girl, "they're right in front of usl" "Yaas, Missy Eunice: so dey is. We bes to be gwine back, jes' as fas' as we can. Dis yer no place for us," and be wheeled around for a retreat. But tbe instant he did so, facing the lange of low hills previously at his back, their echoes made the canon- adirtg seem to come from them. He grew confused and stood still. "'Fo' #e Lawd!" he exclaimed. "Dey done busted out da, to ). Dey's all roun' us. Aain't no wbar* we c'n go! Oh! Lawd! lemiue out dis yer scrape, au' i nebber mo' m'x up wif ttecb foolishness, long as I lib." "Jh! Sam! Can't we hide some- wher?-' "Laws, missy, 1 dunna Dey don't •eem tu be no safe place in all de wide yea'tb, 'ceptin' maybe deep iiown in de grouu', or roostin' mighty Kign, no lower dan de clouds." Could they have seen beyond tbe >lbw bill, and dense forest in their immediate front, they would have beheld the battle of Hatch's Run, : lought on April I, 1865. one of tbe fi, _ |nost important movements in tbe U ' fdvance unpn Petersburg. They ^ were hardly more than a quarter of a W -T'- 'finite from .where one of the fiercest p ( >, (pontlicts oe the day was at. that mo* P/';'- ^..;>ent raging. r~ < • „ "Da's no use tryln' runnin' 'way, ^ $tissy Eunice," said Sam. "Lak de k- . %bmy ob de Lawd en de sperich'l .1 , hymn, dey's done surrounded us. . fj. * You's too tired to run; I's too weak I* in de knees to cyab' you, 'sides wba'd we run ef,we could? Lak as not we MO® ^j^Jrtin right in 'moogstde red hot balls rSirian' bloody men sockin' bay'nets into ionated myse'f that I coulan't do no j bettah'n fln' y'u, sab; fer you tell me J what I gwine do wid Missy Eunice. ; So we sot outk I know'd you was in j de ahuiy, sah, an' folks tole me wha' de ahmy wuz, so we gwine erlong all j right, but mos' dead beat out, till dis ! mawnin'. Den de debbil broke, lo' | sbuah. De fustest t'ing we know'd de shoot in' was gwine on all round | u& De solid yerth was a heaven' an' ] a trcmbiin,' an' de clouds wasasbak-1 in' lak' a flag in de win', an' de rot- j ten balls was a tumblin' f'm de sky an' a smashin' de trees au' a bustin' de rocks. Oh! Mar's Frank, it was a mos' owdacious time. Leo I bided Missy Eunice In a right safe placa bertwixt de rocks, an' i sorter strolled away myse'f to look fo' you, ca>e I know d I'd fin' Mar's Frank wha' de flghtin' was gwinc on. May be I was a little might scaa't, foh de fust t'ing 1 know'd I couldn't ketch my bref, an' I guess I mus' a bin run- cin'. Den I crope back to tin' Missy Eunice. It was a mighty long ways, but I crope an' crope till I see dis yer ttah an* seed you, Mar's Frank; den i know'd I was all right" "And you have left Eunice some where alone ail this terrible day?'* "Mar's Frank, 1 couldn't a help it. An' ho ha'am come to Missy Eunice. She lie quiet, lak' a little mouse in de ces' an' nobody fin' her." "We must see about this at once, if you can find where you left her." '•Sby'ly, Mar's Frank, I go dar straight as de crow fly. Ain't mo'n a quahtah-mile, sah." ">he must at best be almost starved and frightened to death." In a few moments Franic had a comrade waned to take his place as "WHT, UNCX.S SAM. BOW DO YOU COXE TO BE Hill?" watcher, but a second also had to be called, as the first, upon being made acquainted with the circumstances, roundly swore he would sit by po campiire while a friend went away ! alone upon such an errand as Frank's. He would go along. Sam guided eb'rylio ly. Bes' I c'n do is hide you j'them. They found the two big rocks but tbe little one kept quiet, and her presence was not suspected until a man who was shot fell on the brush and his blood ran down on her. Then she screamed. My boys took her out and biought her to me, and i I turned her over to tbe care of my ' wife, who was in the camp at the | time on some Sanitary Commission business. The child's fright had been so great that not until some time after she had been brought to New York was she able to tell her family name or give auy information by which we might find the 'brother Frank,' for whom she was constantly calling. I sent word into your lines by exchanged prisoners again and again, trying to reach you, but never could. In time I forgot ber old name, for we gave her a new one-- our own. Having no children of our own, and she having no ties, so far as we could learn, we legally adopted her, and she became as dear to us as if she were our own child by birth.-- Boston Herald. • f v : "TooGood a Gad." ' When Mr. Charles Montague was hunting in Africa a youDg native was importunate to be allowed to sboot for him, and Mr. Montague at last let him have an old single-barrelled gun. The fellow was delighted. As tbe Englishman says, "He put in a small handful of powder and atout a quarter of a newspaper on top of It, and finally a ball, and then rammed the witole charge tightly dowik" Then he departed. He returned in the evening in a woeful plight. His nose and mouth were split, and his face was swollen like a balloon. He approached me, and squatting on the ground announced that he had no talent for hunting, and would return home the following morning. "Good gracious!" I said, "what hare you done to your face?" And he answered as follows: "A little after noon I found the track ot elands. I followed it till I found them feeding. I crept up to one ot them. He was about twenty ' yards off. I rested tbe barrel of tbe gun on a stone, placed tbe butt against my nose, directed the muzzle toward the eland, and pulled the trigger. "I do not know what happened, for I seemed to be blind and deaf for some short time; but when I came to, I found myself lying at tbe bottom of tbe gully, and the gun was behind me. My face was as you now see it. and I was bleeding. The elands bad gone awa\'. "Son of a white man. it was yeiy kind of you to lend me the gun, but it is too good a gun for me,--it is a powerful gun,--too strong for me. It needs the wisdom of a white man. Farewell!" dead President; Jean Paul Marat, whom Charlotte Corday righteously slew in 1793, had a place here for a few years and then his corpse was dragged out and thrown into a nelgh- ber.ng sewe . Mirabeau was enterred here with great pomp in 1791, but his dust was afterward removed--no one knows where. Voltaire, interred the same year, shared the same fate. His heart, it seems, had been given to hia neice, Mme Denis, who be queathed it to a friend. When, in 1864, it was proposed to place it with tbe rest of the body tbe sarcopha gus in the Pantheon was opened-- ; and lound empty. The decree of <1885, ment oned above, was issued i shortly after the decease of Victor | Hugo, j&nd reads as follows: Article J. The Pantheon restored to its original and legal destination. The remains of great men who have merited national gratitude will be deposited there. Article The above provisions are applicable to citizens to whom a law shall have de creed a national funeral. A decree of the President of the .Republic shall order the transportat on of their remains to the Pantheons ? A RIDE FOR LIFE.' To Save /low down 'tween dem two b;g rtjpk . what de bullets li bounce olftn, j H,>„ kibah you UD wif bresb. so de killers j won't know you's da. Den I co f|i?' ; Mass' Frank an' come back fo' you^ teJT- , ..when dis foolishness am oner." ness The child having no better sug gestion to offer and trusting im plicitly, was submissive, and as he had proposed, so in a few minutes was done. As be stood panting ftorn his harried wortc and trying to decide which way be should go, that de cision was suddenly made for him. While be bad been biding bis little charge the tide of battle had rolled in his direction. The Confederates, forced back across the little valley by an advance of the Federal lines, ! were driven up'the slope of the little i hill which had hitherto sbelterdTSam f»i»m the actual presence ot the fiiht, and though they fought well to hold their ground, were gradually forced to move farther and farther back. When thev passed 'the brow of the hill and started retrograding down its southern slope, panic spread IkpHkng them, retreat became rout. tiam was already far in advance of ' most fleet-footed among tt-eni, Is years forgotten, devouring time and space with a gait that would, between which the child was hidden. The brush piled to conceal her had beeu torn away--tbe ground about it was much trampta}--nothing but pine needles remaned in her hiding place--blood waft spattered upon one of the rocka.- \;i) •'/ ; *• * « « • < , « / • " f « • When the War w«* bver bone Was less in sympathy with the partisan demagoguery which strove to ke "~ sectional bitterness alive than tl trave veterans of tl^e Grand Arm At all their public reunions th made a point of welcoming and h pitably entertaining men who h been "on tbe other side." So, 1872, L Post of New York ceived as one of its guests a you Southerner, Capt Frank Beveri | who happened to be north on, tiess, and invited him to par in their commemoration of niversary which should be hel by all alike,. North and Si memory of our loved and dead. During the day Capt met Col. Swift lonver ; - back to war tiiuea "And now that it is asked the Colonel, "are yo the thing ended as it didr" "Frankly, yea Tbe experience Divers and Sharks. We anchored a little sloop about fifty feet off from the wreck, and when all was ready 1 went down, says a writer in ricribner's Magazine. When 1 got below into the boiler- room I saw looking out at me, from one of the furnaces, two eyes as big saucers. I stepped to one side and Train the Fireman Bad to Commit a Murder. : Some years ago I found myself ^penniless and obtained the position of railway stoker, says au English man. One day I was traveling f om Padiington to Cowchester. The engineer was a man named John Morgan, an old-timer In the com- pan v's service. He bore an excellent reputation, but was considered rather taciturn. About an hour after leav ing Partington. Morgan stopped sud denly in the middle of a sentence, and said: "Well, I must get to work now." Then he opened the firebox door and called out to me: "More coal, fehovel it in," he roared, with an oath. "I'm going to make her travel. To pacify him 1 took up a shovelful and managed to upset a good deal of it before 1 reached the firebox. "¥ou clumsy fool." he called out; "here give it to me." and, snatching the shovel out" of my hands, he crammed on as much coal as he could get in. In a few minutes oiir spee J increased enormously, and 1 calculated that we were traveling at the rate of seventy miles an hour. I thought it was tim > to remon strate, and. turning to Morgan, I no ticed that the indicator showed lull speed. I called bis attention to the fact. "Ha. ha!" he cried in replv. "Stop!" "I'm never going to stop again. I told you I'd make her travel. What do you want to stop for? Get on, old wench, get on!" Then he burst into a hideous peal of laughter. * A cold sweat of absolute terror broke out on. me as I realized the state of th tigs. Here was a raving maniac, a far stronger man than my self, in charge of a train full of peo ple, rushing on at incre.iible s^oed, the engine threatening to leap the track at every yard. We we:e not more than twenty miles from Blin- ton Junction, and if wc did not st^p there the whole train must inevita- oly be wrecked, and probably not one pa-senger would escape uninjured, and but a tew with their lives I looked back to the train. Outside the windows were hands gesticulat ing, ana frightened, alarmed faces. At the end of the train the guard was waving a red flag, hemething must be done, and by tne, or we should be all inevitably lost i made up my mind. I iAMtl**- *' >' •Harper's W«*kly intereit- ing picture which niay be witnessed at the docks where the great ocean steamships lie, unloading or taking in cargo. The dischainfb of the cargo takes place on the side of the steamer [ next the pier. The work of taking i In w>»t !« rloriA itnnn t.hp strl* i < kii n^in.uliiivulk Sift. t.h<> cnlit | from tbe hoids of the barges that j line her tall, black side, and send it ] hissing and roaring down the iron j chutes that lead to the bunkers. The | furnaces devour the fuel so ravenously j that often a steamer, at the end o( a J trip, has considerably more free-board ! than when she started, and great | care has to be exercised in stoking to I prevent a list to one side or the j other. Up to the last minute, before tbe tugs swing the great vessel out into J midstream, she takes in coal, and barge after barge is emptied, and stil the work goes on. Enough coal is burned in o le day to keep a block of buildings warm for months. Some of this coal has already made one sea voyage, coming trom Pensyl- vania and creeping along the Jersey coast to New York in unwieldy huiks that years ago we e fast sailing-ships, but now have fallen from their high estate, and become mere drudges for ther successful rivals, the steamers. It is a strange thought that all this coal poured in at the steamer's side has been dug out of the mines only to make a path of ashes at tbe bot tom of the sea; a path chnnecting two continents, to which thousands of tons are added daily. To the average cabin passenger, snugly ensconced in his rugs in the upper deck, the depths of the ship wheie the sweltering stoker works are as unknown as the interior of a volcano. But if a sight thatie never to be forgotten is attractive, he will be repaid by a trip down the iron ladders. .v fj • • -I-';. ' ' 1 11 4: ** ;trir ; Dwarla ^n Russia. In the time of Peter there were op great writers or artists among the Russians, but Court jesters ar,d dwarfs weie highly esteemed. Learn ing did not count for much, except among the clergy, but the great em. pire, we are told, was remarkable for her "Fools" ot high degree; tor even Princes were proud to hold th< office. As for dwarfs, tbe country ww really alive with them. One old au- thor says there was s arcely a noble man in the land who did not possess one or more of these ' frisks" ol nature. At almost ail State dinners, if these pygmies were fortunate enough to escape being served in a pie, it was their duty testand behind their lord's chair, holdiug his snuff box or awaiting his command. They were usually gavly dressed in a uni? form or livery of very costly mate rials. In 1708, prince Meusbikof semt to his wife in iiussia two dwarfs whom he had made prisoners of war in Po land. Accompanying the gift were tbe following lines: "I send you a present of two girls, one of whom Is ve y small and can serve as a parrot. She is more talkative than is usual among such little people, and can make you much gayer than ff she was a real pairot." One oi these dwarfs was still llv ng in 17U4. After the disgrace of her noble master, she came under the care of the Princess of Hesse-Hom- burg, and when she, died, Gen. Betsicoy, tbe Princess' heir, took tbe dwarr as part of bis inheritance Nearly a century old, she was still br.sk and lively, with a babyish voice when she cried, as sbe often did, at the recollection of her ancient Court dress, which sbe had priced exceed ingly. Except when looking at hei face to face, one would think her to be a child five or six years old.--St Nicholas. % South re 13 usually moving about, the cape valve gives a shrill whistl ng and my experience is that larks, like other fish, are scared half of their wits when we jar upon the scene. «. V . % A kittle boy who tir.d heed used to (receiving bis older brother's old toys and clothes recently remarked: "Ma, will I have td marry bis widow when be dies?" ^ ^ m-:®' J -A, With a smile on my face and 1 said: ' Old boy, you're quite right, this is a fine pace, but it ain't quite fast i enough. Look here!" and 1 caught | him by the arm and led him to the side of tbe engine next, to the double rail. "See." I cried, "there is another train coming up faster than us: we must go faster, but let's see ! j ttiWwho is driving her; lean forward aud IMOIC. Can you see?" The poor maniac stepped outside ; of the rail and leaned forward to j look lor the imaginary train, when I ; gave hifm a nudden push and he fell I in a Heap on the side rails and was ! killed oh the spot With a gasp of! relief sprang back to the engine \ aud turned off tbe steam. It was not: a moment too soon. We were well j in sight of Blinton .function before l • Waltzing in Kentucky is Uioriona. A Danville, Ky., girl tells the Ad vocate of that city the following with regard to waltzing: "No one waltz, even when danced with the same partner, is exactly the same. It ie always a new sensation. The music is not in the same key, and~the waltz (Joes not touch the same chords ol cue's soul. If I danci twenty wait es ia the evening, 1 have twenty dif ferent thrills of pleasure. With one partner it is a soft, insidious meas- j ure; with the next, a long and lan- I gurous movement; with the third, j more of a hop. that gently jars tbe ' brain into a dreamy forgetfulness; ] while, a fourth cavalier, with a heroic | tread, bears you away with a strong , and vigorous rhythm Into still | an ther world, l'he lights of this j go out, you loose consciousness, but ; you feel no dread as you lie witnin , those herculean arms like a child [ rocked to sleep In bis father's em- j brace. Your feet are no longer on S the earth. It's a celestial rotation out into space, and when you light on earth again you feel like a tired , bird stopping from a long flight" i | Athletes anii Consumiitlon. "Tbe: e is very great danger of an ! athlete dying <^f lung trouble if he j ever ceases bis sports," said Prof. A. to. Mathews. "In athletic exercises I larg£ lungs are required, and they be- 'comeintated beyond their natural size. If the athlete ceases his prac tice and adopts anything approach ing a sedentary lite, the lungs, fall ing largely into disuse, easily decay, and the result is quick consumption. It is frequently the case that young men in college who are athletic lead ers after graduation go in stores, of fices, or counting rooms, aud in a few years die of consumption. Every one turned tu Morgan i is su prised, and it is said, 'Such a strong, healt!*y man when he left colleg e Who would have thought he would die w.tk consumption? Must have beeu hereditary.' As a matter of fact, be trou^ht it upon himself, by failing to keep up the practice that expanded his lungs. Cincinnati Enquirer. Bow. Indeed! When Earl Ferrars had been con victed of murder, great eJorts were made to obtain a pardon, on the ground that he was insane. His mother being applied to, and re quested to write a strong letter on i,he siib.ect, answered: "Well* hut if I do. how am I to marry off my daughters?" ; WHXKE tbe road forks in iife'sjour- ney keep to the right * • IpHiiliid to be onljr oBhs ever|||p| of, has arriv. in Bedford, BKppKhd, from Two years ago some trek Boers came upon this baboon and his mother in the Murcbisa range in tbe district of Johannes berg. After a i* •-? + Hj* IaW • * • * * » » » w tlvity. He was brought up in Africa and has just been taken to England. He is now full grown, " being/ be- tween thiee and four feet in helgtyt. He is pure white in color. His pho tograph was taken with great dlflr culty, owing to the baboon's restless disposition. He was finally induced to remain still ana in a suitable po sition by a bottle of milk held be tween tbe bars of his cage. He is a verv heavy, well-grown baboon and excites attention by his ceaseless activity. He has a remark- ably powerful voice, rese.nbling the bark of a large dog, |but harsher and further reaching, best and quiet are not passible in his neighborhood. The baboon Is possibly a member , of a white variety of the chacma family, or possibly a case of albinism, w&ich is found occasionally in most races of animals. Tbe chacma, or pig-faced baboon, is a native of South Africa, where he is very frequently found, and is the largest of the baboon family. He ordinarily grows to be as large as a mastiff, but is much heavier. It is the custom oi his species to travel about in tro p* These would be very formidable parties for men to encounter if tbe baboons were not in the habit ot running away. When angered, however, or pressed for hun ger, they occasionally attack men and human dwellings. They are very noisy and playful, and generally not bad tempered. The fur is usually browu in eolo.-. The baboon is not easily domesti cated, but has been occasionally. There are records of a famous baboon who used to sit in a chair at Exeter 'change, in London, spioke a pipe, and drink gin and water. A fond ness for alcoholic stimulants is fre quent in the monkey family. The baboon is among the least at tractive of monkeys, although his po sition is closely contested by tbe orang outang. Probably the man drill baboon, whose swollen cheeks are striped with blue, scarlet, and purple, would capture the tprLe for ugliness. In fact, this particular baboon is said to put to flight the fiercest beasts of the forest by his personal appearance. The baboon feeds principally oh vegetables and eggs, of which he can conceal eight at once in his capacious cheek pouches. Only One Cannon Ball. . A shot'weighing 250 pounds, from an eight-inch gun of Fort Valdivia, in Valparaiso Harbor, struck the cruiser Blanco Encalada above the arbor belt, passed through the thin steel p'ate on the side, went through the Captain's cabin, took the pillow from under his head,dropped bis head on the mattress with a thump, but ^without injuring a hair: passed through the open door into the mess- room, whe.e it struck the floor and then glanced to the ceiling. Then it went through a wooden bulkhead one inch thick into a room 25x42 feet, where forty men were sleeping in hammocks. It killed six of them outright and wounded six others, tbr^ of whom died, after which it passed through a steel bulkhead five inches thick, and ended its course by striking a bat tery outside, in which it made a dent nearly two inches deep. It was filled with sand. Had it released deadly gases no one knows what damage it might have done. A 450-pound missile from a ten- inch gun in the same fort struck the same vessel on its eight-inch armor. It hit square on a bolt. The shell did not pierce che armor, but burst t utside the vessel. It drove the bolt clear through, and in its flight tbe bolt struck an eight-inch gun, completely disabling it. Such is the power of tbe smaller-sLed guns.--Tbe Century Macazine.p| ?|| <ffe Are Growing Taller^, It is a universal law of human de velopment that theeasierand health ier the conditions of life tbe greater tbe increase'in personal strength, beauty, and physique. Within the last centurv these conditions have improved for both sexes, but propor tionately more for women than meu. Greater personal freedom, more rationally spent girlhood, better food and cooking, greater attention to personal hygiene, more air and exer cise fail to the lot of the modern wo man than lell to the lot of her g.aud- motber. Francis Gal ton finds, after consid erable investigation, that the aver age of female stature in the upper and middle classes has risen nearly two inches in fifty years. Nothing strikes a foreigner, more than the number of tall, finely developed wo men to be seen in the London parks during the season. The average is from live reet six inches to five feet ten inches, whereas fifty yea.s ago woman of five fe?t seven inches would have been considered tail. A friend of Mr. Galton's, a prominent man in London society, tells him that only twenty-two yea s ago his sister was the tallest girl in her set, and she is now overtopped by nearly every one of her younger acquaint ances. bos* Preserved in Water. Some magnificent logs of spruce and yellow pine, which have made their way down from the sources of the Delaware to the Kensington mills, are now floating In the Ara. mingo Canal just below the Girard avenue bridge- Excellent mate;ial for tall masts and flagpoles, and huge beams over seventy feet long and two feet square on the end, are noticeable am°ng the mass of float ing timber. Contrary to the popular belief, timber is best preserved when submerged in water, and what ap pears to he a mass of refuse clogging portions of the canal is in realitv valuable lumber stored there for reasons of economy. Such economy can be overdone, however, and many a noble piece of timber which has be come waterlogged during a long period of time now lies along the bottom of the camM.--Philadelphia Becord.4 * v.. •' Ti of tl fessio6£;'#B&:iB$i3... greater In reccnt years in medicine, says tbe World. Among the ope American origin now prai tleastrtbaT ork of tlte world over Is that of intnbitpir the tMtyux,s winch or.gmatcd: wish JLW, Joeepb U'Dwyer, of this city. It has superseded the operation of trache- * otomy, becauie it can be done with- out cutting or bloodshed, as the tube h is passed in ia few seconds from the mouth into the throat This opera- s tion, which was slowly received •'$ abroad, has now won its way there : and is performed wherever diphtheria is known. In abdominal surgery the Ameri- " can surgeon has kept up with the • times, and in no country ari stab wounds and gunshot wounds ot the | abdomen treated more successfully than in the city hospitals To Dr. Senn of Milwaukee, Wis., belongs tho credit of introducing a greatly im- • ' proved method of uniting th" bowel after a portion has been cut away for injury or disease, and recently but tons have been invented by Dr. Murphy of Chicago, which greatly ? simplify and lessen the danger of the operation. ' i Appendicitis, of which so much is ; heard nowadays, is an old disease uh- % der a new name^ with a new and suc cessful treatment, thanks to tbe 'J skill of such surgeons as Mc&urney t and Stimson of JSfew York. Until J the last few years these cases were ^ treated for peritonitis, or in amation of the bowels, and were very fatal. At the present time all qual.fied sur- r geons recognize the diseased appendix \ as the cause and have it reaoved be fore peritonitis sets in. There has been more progress In : head surgery than in any other; branch. A decade ago surgeons ap- proached the brain with apprehen sion, but now abscesses in tbe brain ^ are opened without hesitation; tumors ' have been successfully removed, and ^ sections of the brain have been cut t away without injuring it Trephining, one of the oldest operations In surgery, having been done centuries before Christ, was i never in the perfect state or the pres ent time Silver plates and other substitutes for the natural skull are rarely if ever used, the bone itself ; being replaced. Dr. David J. Jen nings, a surgeon connected with Bellevue Hospital, successiully per- formed the operation of trephining 7 for tbe youngest patient on record, and has been honored by a fellowship s in the Edinburgh Obstetrical fco- ' ciety. The little patient was only forty ^ hours old, and the bones on one side : of tbe head were so depressed that if j they had not been raised the baby would have been weak minded or paralyzed if she grew up. Dr. Jen nings removed a part of the bone, ^ raised the rest of the skull, and after • placing the bone which bad been re-, moved sewed up the skin. The baby's wounds healed nicely and gave her no , trouble. Here again an American v surgeon successfully performed an v operation whicb had hitherto been ^ considered too hazardous to attempt ;®i •vsf' -as Tame Undflsh. "* At Logan, near tbe Mull of Gal- . ^1 way, there Is a most interesting tidal t.sh pond. A rent in the cliffs facing i the Irish channel admits tbe salt A water through a narrow fissure pro- ; J tected by a giating into a circular rock basin, some 30 leet in diameter and 20 feet deep The cliffs rise high all round: stone steps descecd on one side to a ledge leveled into a footpath at the water's edge. No sooner does the visitor's; lootfall resound on the stairs, than the green water hitherto motionless and apparently lifeless, becomes peo pled with large brown fish rising from the depths, gliding and dashing about in a great state of excitement. • These are cod, lythe, and saithe, Which, caught on lines in tbe sea, have been transferred to this pond to be fattened for the table. They are fed daily by the keeper and experi-; ence has tought them to connect the sound of footsteps with their meal time. Formerly a clapper used to be rung' to summou them, but this was no^ more than a trick of the stage; the lootfall on the stone is quite enough to awaken tbem to activity. Most of tbe cod,, being deep-water fish, be come totally blind in captivity from excess of light; but thoy become so tame and accustomed to their keeper . as not only to feed out or his haud, i; but some of them allow themselves?^ to be lifted out of the water: One may witness the strange sight of a huge cod, more than an ell long, dandled on the knee like a baby, his mouth stuffed with muscles and lim pets, after which he is returned to the water with a mighty splash. On „ ^ the table these fish, ihus tended and ' fed, prove much better than fish, b ought straight from the open sea. :,C --Rational Magazine. ri-Jt J . Burns and Scalds on Children. ?" -i !t j A very frequent and serious form ^ V * j of accident to the little ones arises . from leaving fires unguarded,?! . matches, or vessels of boiling water, v ( where they will be too accessible, and it is well to Know what do in such «'"'<1 emergency, says an English Maga- zine. Should the clothing catch fire, * *.; immediately lay the ch id flat on the " fioor, aud roil the hearth-rug, a shawl, ' ' ) or some |woolen garment, round itto smother the flames. If a doctor can* be obtained, leave the child quiet, only keeping it warm, and if faint/. -j give hot milk as a drink. If the^ ^ doctor cannot be got at once, very carefully remove tbe clothing, cutting ? 1J any part which tenda to stick to the skin. Do not break any blisters, but cover the whole sur.ace with strips of linen soaked in oil, or, where oil cannot be obtained, dredge tlour! thickly over, and theo cover with cotton wool. Scalds result when the child upsets a cup of hot tea or ; ?; kettle, etc., o»er itself. They are • treated in the same way as burns. All cases of bums or scalds are seri-^Sg ous, and should be seen by a jdoctor as soon as possible. ' . SI-,- . ..• ... V. - 'Si . TKANSPARENT leather is a#* be» ' ing made in Germany and it is likely <, •'? that the pedestrian of the future' ^ will be aide to fee his neighbor's corn growing. > ^ n r < -f b '*f ,t.r ^ ,, 1 \ *• i ^ i: "ti; L- * - V . " iilgfe > silN* '..'Xi •>V *•* 9 U y--'*