Decatur Democrat, Volume 39, Number 13, Decatur, Adams County, 14 June 1895 — Page 7

■©he genwerat DECATUR, IND. BLACTBUBN, . . ■ PußT.tsnitn. ■HB It would appear that San FranclHCO |||Hhas some fast messenger boys. They now in jail for burglary. Andrew Carnegie might possibly raise BBHtho wages of his workmen a few cents ■■more yet without lessening to any great the danger he runs of dying rich. |HH A woman named Addams has been |HB appointed garbage inspector in Chi Before she has been long in office she will doubtless need both the HHB "d’s" in her name and several big ones in addition. Hraß A Chicago advertising company re■lgH fused to take the business of an under|HH taker who wanted to put his card in the trolley cars. It was argued, probably, that the passengers would not have time to make an ante-mortem state- ■■ ment of their preferences in the matter of a funeral director. The telegraph states that “Kid” ■■ Thompson smiled faintly when senEnß teuce of death was passed upon him. HHH This is certainly as much in the way of Mm hilarity as could reasonably have been mm expected from Mr. Thompson. A look mm of actual displeasure even could have been excused. |m| One’s surprise in the fact that no two mm| persons’ voices are perfectly alike ceas|H| es when one is informed by an authorrail Ity that, though there are only nine perfeet tones to the human voice, there |B are the astonishing number of 17,592,mm 115,044,415 different sounds. Os these, |m I 4 direct muscles produce 16,382, and mm 13 indirect muscles produce 173,741,823. The oldest inhabited house within the limits of the United States Is said to be that of Kilian Van Rensselaer, |B which stands opposite Albany. It Is of |H Holland brick; and the front wall still mm exhibits loopholes through which the h rst owner formerly shot at Indians IB and wild beasts. The house Is still in |m good repair, after being in constant use * tor more than 250 years. m A Chicago paper wants ex-Presldents m pensioned. The President gets a larger |B salary than he could command honestly in private life. He gets a good house m and the Government pays the plumber. ■ the President wants to save money m there is nothing to hinder, and if he m doesn’t there are naturally plenty of m friends who will give him a lift. A m pension would constitute him a pauper, and In this country the able-bodied m pauper yet has a place to win in public m ' esteem. m Another foolhardy’ navigator has set m PUt to sail around the world in a toy m jboat He has already set out from San ■' Francisco and is unfortunately already m “beyond the jurisdiction of the Califor- ■ nia courts. Otherwise he ought certainfl ly to be examined by a commission de H lunatioo inquirendo. These absurd venfl tures are not brave but foolhardy. They fl add nothing to useful knowledge, still ■ less to the gayety of nations. They m ought to be suppressed. m The Immigration RestrictlonLeague m proposes to present a bill to the next m Congress providing that no foreigner m between 14 and 60 years of age who B cannot both read and write some lan- ■ guage shall be received on any vessel B as an emigrant to this country. It is a B step In a right direction. It might be B judged too severe to narrow this to the ■ English language, yet where, outside of that and perhaps the German, can a ■ foreigner get any notion of the princi- | pies of our Institutions? ■ There seems room for the inventor I to do something for the steam locomoI tlve yet One left standing on a side I track In Arkansas a few days ago I" threw open its own throttle and “lit I out” upon the road at top speed, totally I wrecking a passenger train, for the i passage of which it had been sldeI tracked. This Is the report But It I occurs to one to ask If It was sidetracked for tills purpose, how did it get out on the main line without deI railing itself at the end of the sldej track? . ' The Supreme Court of Louisiana has just rendered a decision In the Olympic Club matter, which, it Is said, kills prlxe fighting in that State forever. beyond prospect of resurreetlon. At the same time the Florida Senate Is 7 reported to have passed a bill which kills it in that State, and that the lower house Is sure to concur. If this kind of thing goes on Corbett and Fitzsimmons and their imitators will soon have to resort to some civilized way of “making a living.” The money order clerks In the Phila delphia ppstofflee are not as sweettempered as usual, and one of them . thus explains why: “During the last few days there have been nearly a hundred Normal School girls In here to buy money order’s for a cent each. It seems their teachers put them up to it, so as to educate them In the way the money order business Is transacted by the United States Government So they come piling In upon us with requests for 1-cent money orders. Os course, it is just as much trouble to isV sue a money order for a penny as for SIOO, and so you can imagine the annoyance It is to us." Immigration into the South seems to be taking the form of colonleer rather than individual arrivals. This is especially the ease with immigration from North Mid Nort»w«t to OootHoJ

and one or two other States. One colony from Indiana and near-by localities Is said to number about forty thousand individuals of all ages, and to have bought some two hundred thousand acres of land in part of Georgia. Another Georgia colony is to come from Pennsylvania, and is to locate on the Ocmulgee River, about twenty-five miles from Macon. From Redfield, S. D., another colony is to go to Hempstead County, Arkansas; there are said to be five thousand families in this Dakota colony, who are already the owners of more than fifty thousand acres of laud. Every owner of spruce forests should be wide awake to th® great Importance of the wood pulp business. In many places to-day spruce logs are worth more for pulp than to manufacture into lumber. By and by we expect to hear of the shutting down of some mills because their supply of logs has been ab- ■ sorbed by the wood pulp men. This has already been the case in many sections, and Is likely to Increase rapidly year by year. It will be well for many of our lumbermen to estimate carefully; and see whether they can now get more for wood pulp logs than they can realize by manufacturing and shipping lumber to the markets. Many a man who dislikes to change the character of his business, to shut his mill down or discharge his crew, would, upon investigation, find that such action would be to his pecuniary benefit. The magazine writer is again deploring the decay of the art of letter-writ-ing, and shedding unnecessary tears. People who desire to write letters will probably to the end of time and mail facilities continue to do so. If they prefer the frankly open card the cost is 1 cent and the trouble slight The average letter written from a sense of duty is a nuisance alike to sender and receiver, and lays perhaps upon a wholly innocent person the obligation of answering it. Then, some people will preserve letters, so that ultimately they find their way into the breach-of-promise case or the divorce court; or, possibly, the effusions penned to No. 1 fall into the unsympathetic hands of maturer No. 2, whose pleasure thereat is not intense. People who can write matter worth reading are doubly foolish to write in a fashion that does not command a space rate, for such letters are apt to be seized upon later by some meddlesome and annoying individual destitute of sense generally, but more particularly of the sense of honor, and given to the public. By that time the public does not want them. So altogether if the art of letter-writing is falling into decay the matter is rather one for congratulation than repining. Joseph Jefferson delivered a series of lectures on dramatic art before the students of Yale College. Just think of it! An actor, a man who makes his living, albeit an epicurean one, by treading the boards behind the glaring footlights, exposing the unformed minds of the young men of the country to the pernicious and contaminating influences of the stage. And this in Puritan New England, w’here they wore bell crowned hats and burnt witches and persecuted Hester Prynne not very many decades ago. The matter is still more remarkable when it is remembered that the great institution of learning is presided over by a doctor of divinity. It shows that the world is moving and that the absurd and bigoted prejudices against the stage, the stage in its highest development, are dying out from the minds of men. There are still Institutions of learning or rather of ignorance, where it would be regarded as pollution for an actor to set his foot. It would matter not that the actor was the greatest living exponent of the drama in his line or that he was a welcome guest in the most exclusive social circles. The fact that he w r as an actor, that the smell of grease paint was upon him, would debar him. Yale has taken a step in advance and one which will be wisely followed by other educational institutions of similar rank. As Charlotte Cushman said, music and poetry were the preparatory acts of creation, but the drama was the peopling of the world with human beings. The drama concerns people, not merely some of them. Scotch Humor. An artist is busy at his easel by the wayside. A rustic is looking over his shoulder in the free manner of the independent Scot. A brother rustic is in a field near by with his hands in his pockets. He is uncertain whether it is worth while to take the trouble to mount the dike for the uncertain pleasure of looking at the picture. “What is he doing, Jock?” asks he in the field of hi§ : better-situated mate. “Drawin’ wi’ pent!’ J returns Jock, over his boulder. “Is't bonny?” again asks the son of toil in the field. “Ocht but bonny!” comes back the prompt and decided answer of the critic. Os considerations for the artist’s feelings there is not a trace. Yet both of these rustics will appreciatively relate the incident on coming in from the field and washing themselves, with this rider: “An’ he dldna look ower weel pleased, I can tell ye! Did he, Jock ?”— The Contemporary Review. Interesting Bello. Andrew J. Cobb, of Atlanta, Ga., has in his possession one of the most interesting relics of the Confederacy. It is the pen used to sign the constitution of the Confederacy. It has never been disturbed since the hand of General Howell Cobb laid it in its case, and the ink used then can be seen now where It has dried upon the pen. .. Uncle Sam’s Books. 1 Uncle Sam himself prints 1,000,000 bMk.arar.

THE SONG I NEVER SING. As when in dreams we sometimes hear A melody so faint and fine, And musically sweet and clear, It flavors all the atmosphere With harmony divine. So often in my waking dreams I hear a melody that seems Like fairy voices whispering To me the song I never sing. Sometimes when brooding o’er the years My lavish youth has thrown away, When all the glowing past appears But as a mirage that my tears Have crumbled to decay, I thrill to find the ache and pain Os my remorse is stilled again, As forward bent and listening, I hear the song I never sing. 4 A murmuring of rhythmic words, Adrift on tunes whose currents flow Melodious with the thrill of birds ’And far off lowing of the herds In lands of long ago; And every sound the truant loves Comes to me like the coo of doves, When first in blooming fields of spring I hear the song I never sing. The echoes of old voices, wound In limpid streams of laughter where The river Time runs bubble crowned, And giddy eddies ripple round The lilies growing there; Where roses, bending o’er the brink Drain their own kisses as they drink, And ivies climb and twine and cling About the song I never sing. An ocean surge of sound that falls As though a tide of heavenly art Had tempested the gleaming halls And crested o’er the golden walls In showers upon my heart Thus, thus, with open arms and eyes Uplifted toward the alien skies Forgetting every earthly thing, I hear the song I never sing. James Whitcomb Riley. II WTEBEWHSTOBfIL By Kate P. Sieghold. Father Gaspard was selected by the Father Superior at Monterey to carry a message to the Mission San Juan, forty miles away. He was offered a horse to ride, but refused it, and started on foot. It was May, the most delightful month in the year, and Father Gaspard, free from the restraint of the mission, beguiled the way by singing and soliloquizing something after thiswise: “Indeed no; I feel far safer on my own legs than on the back of an impish bronco that plants his four feet all together in one small spot and humps his back like a fiend incarnate. Did" not I myself see the Father Superior’s face blanch when he mounted him to ride down the coast?” Father Gaspard was strong and in good health, barring a threatened obesity and a shortness of leg, but wityi the aid of a stout oaken staff he made good progress. . A light refection at midday and a short siesta so refreshed him that he almost seemed to trot, so fast did the ups and downs of the mountain trail speed under his feet. He passed the night with a herdsman, who shared with him his simple fare, and in the morning, after giving the man his blessing, proceeded on his way through the mountain pass, to the edge of the Salinas River. Tucking his gown around his waist and carrying his sandals in his hand he forded the stream in a shallow place, mounted the bank, and drew long breaths of delight at the view before him. The valley stretched leagues away to the south, where the mountains seemed to meet the sand dunes separating it from' the on the west. There were no landmarks of any kind, not a tree, shrub or rock—only an unbroken prairie of verdure and flowers, azure sky overhead, and a gentle breeze moving the grass. The good father hastened on. Well he knew that later in the day these great Salinas plains were the ver, nozzle of the bellows through which the trade winds swept, and toward evening a terror to travelers from the fog that rolled in from the sea, enveloping, drenching and bewildering them so it was folly to continue their journey. They must stop where they were until the next morning, when the welcome trade winds once more arose and drove the fog away in fantastic clouds over the mountains. It was the good priest’s intention to cross the plains and reach the ranch of Don Manuel on the Gabilan, where he would pass the night, sure of a kindly welcome and good cheer. But about noon, suffering from heat, fatigue and the pangs of hunger, he bethought himself of a shepherd who tended the sheep of Don Manuel, with whom he had stopped once or twice when overtaken by the fog, and who had the knack of frying frijoles most deliciously. Yes, there to the right was the hut, and a short distance away the flock. So the priest turned from his course, and soon reached the shepherd’s hut. He sat down on a bench by the door until he recovered his breath. Then putting his hands to his mouth, called loudly, “Pedro! Oh, Pedro!” The sheep were huddled together in groups, heads to the ground, their woolly backs resisting the heat of the sun. At his call some lifted their heads, but the shepherd did hot rise from his sleep on the ground, as Father Gaspard expected. Instead, the black head of a shepherd dog lifted itself on the further side of the Then circling around it, he came bounding and leaping toward the pri,est. On reaching him he ran around and around, barking, jumping and trying to lick his fan's. ■■ ■. ' 9

Father Gaspard laughed and said : “Is it thou, Domingo? This is a cordial greeting, but where is thy master, Pedro? Is the sluggard asleep In the grass?” The dog showed all his teeth, and bent himself almost double first one side the other in the violent wags of his tail. He ran a little way, then lay down and rested his head on his paws an Instant, then run up to the priest again, emitting sharp, quick yelps. He repeated this again and again, but as the priest only laughed the dog took hold of his gown with his teeth, and backing off tried to pull him along. “Oh, well, then; I come,” said the priest indulgently, and followed the dog, who trotted toward a clump of tall grass, looking back every few steps to see if Father Gaspard was close behind. “Is it a fox hole thou wouldst show | me? Or only a squirrel’s? Oh, it is the lazy shepherd. Awake, Pedro!” said the priest, reaching down to shake the prostrate form, but he started back, for it was not that of a sleeping man, but a dead one. “How is this?” cried Father Gaspard, in distress. “Pedro dead! and of what ailment?” He turned the body over,, “Thou hast lain here many days, my poor Pedro. Already the fog and sun have rotted thy garments and disfigured thy face. Thou art offensive and must be buried. And who has guarded the flock?” He looked at the dog, who wagged his tail. “Thou, Domingo! by thyself? Truly, thou art a noble fellow, and shalt have thy reward. The man must be buried, at least temporarily.” Father Gaspard scanned the valley in all directions. No one was to be seen; no traveler or vaquero that could be called to help, He went back to the hut and opened the door. It was in good order, showing that the shepherd had not lain there sick. Looking around he found a small spade, and took a blanket, which was folded on a pile of dry grass, to wrap the body in. Then he went back to the dead man. It was no easy task to dig the grave alone and get the body in it, but he went bravely to work, and cheered by an occasional visit from the dog, by the time the first harbinger of the so the form of a fleecy mist—floated over the sand dunes, it was accomplished. Father Gaspard went back to the hut, worn and weary, indeed, and cooked some frijoles, and found some meal, of which he make a cake and baked it in the ashes of his fire. He offered some to the dog, who only sniffed at ft and would not eat. The priest, seated at the door of the hut, saw Domingo round up the sheep and head them toward the corral. There were many hundreds, and he drove them carefully and without haste safely inside, all but one laggard, a half grown lamb, which came bleating and running to join the others. The dog stood at the entrance of the inclosure, but instead of letting the lamb pass he sprang at his throat and bore it to the ground, lapping eagerly the warm blood that flowed from the lacerated woud. As soon as it ceased its struggles he tore the flesh from its bones and ate ravenously. Father Gaspard was angry, and shouting to the dog tried to drive him from the lamb, but Domingo growled and would not obey. Having finished the meal, he dragged the body away from the corral and began to dig a hole. When he considered it deep enough he pushed the lamb in, but dragged it out again and dug the hole a little wider. In the lamb was flung again —out once more and turned around. Then, apparently satisfied, he pushed it in and covered it up, shoving the earth over it with his nose. Then he went to the gate of the' corral, selected a place to rest, licked his paws, turned around and around sev•al times, laydown, and rolling himself up went to sleep, Father Gaspard watched this wantonness on the part of the dog with great distress; then, too weary to set up longer, he entered the hut, and on the shepherd’s bed of grasses slept the sleep of fatigue and innocence. In the morning he was awakened’ by the barks of the dog and the tramp of the sheep as they were driven out to graze. After eating the remains of the beans and meal cake he sat on the bench and wondered what was best to do. Should he remain there and guard the flock from the dog, and await someone s coming, to send word to Don Manuel, or should he hasten himself to the ranch and have a shepherd sent j with other dogs. He felt a cold nose on his hand and looking dow.n saw Domingo wagging a cheerful good morning. Father Gaspard pushed him aside and said: “Away Domingo, thou art no more a friend of mine. Thou art an unfaithful servant; even now thy jowls are red with the blood of that innocent lamb. No wonder thou disdained the frijoles goffered thee for thy supper, hou hadst something better in store. . iiou shalt be dealt with according to thy crime. I will tell Don Manuel of thy treachery and thou shalt be ! shot, an ignominious death for a dug. Or if thou shouldst escape, as I have no rope to tie thee, thou shalt drag out a miserable life in the mountains, like the thievish coyote, and like hun be hated and hunted It is a true saying that once a shepherd dog tastes the blood of a sheep he is never more to be trusted. It is worse than the thirst of men for wine.” Domingo sat on his haunches be-

fore the priest and listened to this tirade, his head on one side, his eyes fixed on those of his denunciator, and his tongue lolling out of his mouth, except when the priest paused, then he drew it in and swallowed. His sharp ears stood up and pointed forward and back from the priest to the sheep. Occasionally his eyes would roll toward the flock, and the little brown spots above them seemed also to move. Ever on the alert, he now dashed away to see if they were safe. Father Gaspard grasped his staff and arose to go, hoping to reach the ranch and send a shepherd back before night. Suddenly a thought struck him, and he sat down again. “What would have kept the dog from starving since the shepherd died, if he had not eaten a lamb now and then. Yes, it had to be, for the good of the flock the dog must be fed. He killed the lamb quietly, not alarming the rest.” Father Gaspard called him by name, and when he came running up stroked his head tenderly. “ Domingo mio, I was overhasty and have done thee injustice. Dost forgive me for my blindness and harsh words ? Yes, I see no malice in thy honest face. Thou needst no words to express thy forgiveness, it is shown in thy clear brown eyes, and the vocabulary of thy tail and ears. I will tell the Don of thy faithfulness and thou shalt be canonized among dogs. Thou art no longer young. I, myself, have known thee a number of years. Thou shalt be relieved of the care and labor of the field, and live at the ranchhouse, where the Don will give thee a place by the fire, and will stroke thy head like this, as he tells the story of thy sagacity.” Light of heart, Father Gaspard started once more on his way toward the Gabilan. At evening he reached the edge of the mountain, and looking back saw nothing but a sea of fog. But had it been clear he might have seen a shower of dirt and grass flung high in the air, cauKl by Domingo in the act of resurrecting I the remains of the lamb for his supper . HOW GRANT WHEELER DIED. A Notorious Bandit Chose Suicide Rather Than Captivity. With officers of the, law hard upon his trail Grant Wheeler, the train ' robber, avoided capture recently by sending a revolver bullet through his brain. Wheeler was a desperate character and the wildest of the ruffians with whom he associated. The ' robbery in which he figured and for which he was hunted to his death occurred on Thursday, January 31, when the West bound overland mail was stopped, near Wilcox, Arizona Territory. Two masked men, one of whom was Wheeler, forced the brakeman to divide the train, afterward taking charge of the section to which the express car was coupled. The messenger in charge made his escape and gave the alarm to the authorities at Wilcox. The safe was blown open with dynamite and the contents, aggregating a large sum, carried off in a sack. A rigid investigation followed, and the crime was fastened with considerable certainty upon Wheeler and a cowboy named Joe George. Sus J picion also lighted, though not quite so directly, upon two other men, named Trainor and Davis. The most promising clew obtainable put Special Officer Breckinridge, of the Southern Pacific Railway, Deputy Sheriff Joe Smith and L. C. Williams hard on the track of Wheeler. They surprised him just as he was cooking breakfast in a ditch near the little town of Mancos, in southern Color- ■ ado. Williaips walked within a few I feet of the train robber and ordered I him to throw up his hands. He refused and started to run. Williams pulled the trigger of his W inchester, but the weapon missed fire. Wheeler turned at bay in a small ravine, whence he sent a revolver bullet whistling past Williams’ head. The latter, with his companions, advanced upon Wheeler, who immediately kill!ed himself. Wheeler was 27 years ; old and of medium stature, but athleticin build. His confederates in the train robbery are still at large, though there is an even chance of their capture*. After they looted the train they separated, each, it is sup- • posed, taking different routes to avoid capture. When Wheeler's person was searched after death but 30 cents was found in his pockets. A peculiar incident connected with the robbery was the fact that the bandits, when laying their explosives on the i safe, piled ovpr them eighteen sacks, I each containing one thousand MexiI can dollars. The terrific explosion 1 scattered the coin in all directions. I. - r * Ready for the Cholera. Two years ago there was an outbreak of cholera in France, and instructions were forwarded to the maire of a certain village to take all necessary precautions, as the epidemic was rapidly spreading. & At first our worthy magistrate did j nbt know what to do? After a while, I however, he reported that he was •oady to receive the dread visitor. ■on inquiry being made, it was dis- , covered that by his orders a sufficient i number of graves had been dug in the I lecal cemetery to bury the entire parish if required. A Marino Velocipede. Last winter a yourfg Chicago genius took out a patent for an ice bicycle and now there is another at work on a marine bicycle. A machine of this nature has been patented within the last few weeks by a New Orleans man- He dalls It a marine velocipede.

HE DISCOVERED THE CURVE, The Player Who Caused a Revolution in Baseball. It is said that a Brooklyn man, Arthur Cummings, a member of tho Amateur Stars in 1867, was the discoverer of the curve that has revolutionized baseball and made it so largely a pitcher’s game. Murnane, member of the famous old Boston team of 1877, says that Cummings became a professional about 1872, and played in the. Hartford. Cincinnati and other clubs until 1878, when he retired from pitching. He was of light build, and bore the nickname “Candy.” He stood 5 feet 8, and had a remarkably long arm and long fingers. “Cummings,” said Murnane, “was one of the few men to this day who could make a ball curve with a pendulum or underhand swing, and his curve was the widest I ever saw. “For the last seven years after this discovery Mr. Cummings had the field to himself, and was looked upon as the phenomenon of the times. “Having faced all the great pitchers from 1871 to 1879, I was well posted on the progress of the pitcher’s art. In the spring of 1879 I was in Albany, connected with the club of that city, where Mr. Cummings was acting as manager, now and then playing a game. “During a reminiscent chat one evening Mr. Cummings told of his triumphs with the curve on the fields around Brooklyn. I was interested, and asked how he learned to get the ball to curve. “ ‘Purely accidental,’ said he. ‘I never heard of such a thing, and couldn’t believe my own eyes at first. “ ‘I was pitching to some boys in the open lots outside of Brooklyn, where I lived, one afternoon, and noticed the ball would work away from their bats. I was pitching easy, for in those days you were obliged to keep your arm straight “ ‘The idea came to me that by snapping the ball with the wrist I could get it to sail away from the batter. When I went home that night I commenced to think about what effect the twisting of a pitched ball would have, and went out the next day to show some friends what I had discovered, and, to my astonishment, the ball would go perfectly straight, and I went home that night disgusted. “ Tn two or three days I went out again and found I could get the same curve as the first day, and after experimenting ■ for a while I learned that the wind was blowing slightly against the ball as on the first day, and that a fast ball would not curve as well as one thrown in at a medium pace. “ ‘I worked on the secret the rest of that season, and the next spring had all the local amateur clubs after me. ’ “Mr. Cummings was at that time working hard, trying to invent a coupling for steam cars, and had about given up the idea of following baseball as a profession. I have never heard of this player making any statement before or since of how lie discovered the way to curve a baseball, and being thoroughly interested in the subject I can remember the description as if it were made but yesterday.” The Doctor's Tale. It was while I was practicing at Asheville, N. C., a few years ago. One morning there came into my office an old fellow who had the appearance of a mountaineer. He was accompanied by his wife, who was totally blind from cataract. The old fellow said that if I would cure her, or manage to give her just a little sight, he would pay me SIOO. Said he: “The ole woman's been blind for over twelve years and ain't of no use to herself nor nobody else, so if you will go ahead and fix her up so’s she can see again and be of some use to me, why, I will give you the money.” I agreed to take the case; not without some trepidation, as a fellow physician had already operated upon one of the eyes with bad results. In the course of time, however, I managed to restore the old lady's sight, Bo that she could see and read quite Well, and then, after a reasonable lapse of time, I presented the bill. “I ain’t agoing to pay you nothin’ on that bill.” f “Why?” I asked. “What is the matter?” “Well,” said he, “it’s just here. I fold you, you will remember, that if you would fix up the old woman. so that she would be of‘ some use to me that I would pay you; but she ain’t no more use now than she was before, or as much, for she used to do some work before she could see; but now, she don’t do nothing but sit around the house and read novels.” Kangaroos That Climb. By the steamer Wodonga, which recently from the north, have arrlvecl eight cages of tree climbing kangaroos. The animals were captured after considerable difficulty on the Bloomfield river, and were shipped at Cocktown for delivery to the Zoological Gardens, Melbourne. To give an illustration of their climbing propensities, it maj r be stated that while on board bne of the smaller specimens escaped from confinement and immediately jumped into the rigging, up which it went with amazing speed, and seemed perfectly in its element when in the vicinity Os the masthead. This clearly demonstrates that the clihibing power of these animals, which was formerly looked upon as mythical, is founded on fact. Greece has 490,000 women over 20 years of age.