Decatur Democrat, Volume 40, Number 5, Decatur, Adams County, 17 April 1896 — Page 8

gemecrixt DECATUK, XND. W. BIAOKBXTBN, . - - Pvmrnm. ▲ New York woman lost F4O,MC< gambling nt Monaco. Os course, being a woman, she could not keep still about it. ■ i . 1 '!'B We are pleased by the overthrow of 1 ihe Wall street gold syndicate. J. Pierpont Morgan uses the word "whilst,” and no man who does that can be trusted. It Is true Great Britain owns a little less than one-fourth of the land surface of the globe, but it exercises a sort of suzerainty over the watery portion thereof, which, as the maps show, is not only deep but vasty. Thirteen hundred British authors ask the American people to keep the peace. The American people do not Intend breaking it. The nation that refuses to arbitrate a question is the nation that contemplates breaking the peace. It Is reported that a gold reef "of remarkable thickness” has been discovered in the Chota Nagpur district in Bengal, India, and an order Issued by the government for the erection of stamps for thq making of trial crushing by which the value Os the find will be estimated. Russia proposes to build a new warthip every time England builds one. England orders a new warship or two every time the navies of any other nation are enlarged. Some time, perhaps, in the interests of universal peace, this process will be reversed, so that each nation shall transform a warship into a merchant vessel every time any other nation does so. * The law carefully regards the ,secrecy of the relations between a physician and his patients. Not only is he protected l*w a refusal to disclose facts thus obtained, but when he tells them for any purpose he is liable to a severe penalty. In such a case just decided in England a complaining patient has been awarded $60,000 damages against a physician, and the Court ruled that !lt did not make any difference whether the story Was true or false, so far as the question of the defendant’s culpability was concerned. The newest antiseptic is one discovered in Germany, and called potasslumorthodinitrocresolate. To those who !may be dissatisfied with the requirement to use so long a name it is proposed that they may employ the alternative antinoumln. It is said that one part of the substance in 1,500 to 2,000 parts of soapsuds is death to all the common parasites of plants, and that it destroys all bacteria, preserves for a long time yeast that is treated with it, and is very cheap, besides having the desirable property of being odorless. ft you lose your haWn the street, don’t run After it. The wisest thing to do is to turn and follow the direction it bas taken in a calm and dignified manner. The reason is a very simple one. The average man the moment he sees his neighbor’s headgear scurrying along with bump® and 'bounds is immediately excited to give chase. He prods at the hat with his umbrella, jumps at it with both feet, spreads out both arms to capture it, and, in fact, works very hard. Why deprive the public of a little amusement by running after the thing yourself? Os course, after your ■neighbor has captured the hat it may be in a dilapidated condition.. But you have preserved your dignity, a result worth more than the price of a new hat. After much indecision and frequent changes of mind the ruler of England picked upon Alfred Austin as poet laureate to succeed Tennyson. The original intention to give the honor to Lewis Morris was altered, and Morris was accommodated with a title byway of consolation. Alfred Austin, the now Incumbent, is but little known to readers on this side of the Atlantic, although in England he has won much admiration for the manly perseverance with which he has continued to write poems on the royal family. Some of his other themes are lackadaisical, but he has been everlastingly inspired by changes in the weather, much of his verse handling this subject exclusively. One feels throughout his writings that here is an honest man who has set out to 'be a poet and who means to hold fast to the intention. He might have been happier in his selection of a profession, ' “ lint nobbing could exceed the patience with which he has applied himself to the task of his choice. It Is hoped that the English public will appreciate this successor of Tennyson. One can never read the poems of Alfred Austin without feling confident that he is a very nice gentleman. He may be relied upon to give out a good shilling’s worth of poetry every time a member of the royal family Is born or burled. And this is the chief end and aim of a poet laureate. It was set up in defense of the M«idawcroft brothers, of Chicago, who rs bankers had stolen the money of their clients, that they ought not tp be criin- , InaMy prosecuted, though the statute said so, because the statute was unconstitutional in that it was discriminating against a class. No special punishment ought to-be provided by a criminal statute for the transgressions of a banker more than for the transgi-es-Wons of a bulteher or a baker. The Supreme Court tore that pretense to tebreds. f A banker stands in the relation of a trustee for the money of the people. He receives money from a part of Che people and loans It to another

pant He sets himself up as a capita net and makes a reputation as a safe man with whom to deposit. The State steps in and insists that his pretense shall b« made good at his peril. If it did no! thus guard ihe people as far as it car the business of banking .might fall Inta the hands of scoundrels. There Is n« element of trade in the depositing oi money. The banker Is a custodian, The transaction Is on faith. Nor can it be pleaded 'Chat no criminal charge* can be brought until a final winding up of tflie insolvency of a bank, wherhei or not a depositor lias lost through the dishonesty of a banker. The court poropt erly observes that when the l»ank close! its doors upon the depositor nothing it left him but the obligation of the bank] er. If the prosecution were delayed until the time of final winding up ol affairs It would be Ivarred by the statute of limitation. Bankers, more lhai any other men in the community, havi specially a trust. 4 lf they fall thereto criminally they ought to be punished with certainty and celerity, for thej have been guilty of a most outrageous breach of faith if they have taken money with the knowledge that their affair, are so Involved that it Is doubtful whether or not they ca ngo on. A banker asks credit and gets it, sometimes deservedly, sometimes otherwise. If he flails in his trust let him not hope for mercy. His breach Is greater than any other. It includes the robbing of ths widow and the orphan. The Inside family reasons for the resignation of Ballington Booth and his wife from the regular army, and for their refusal to obey the orders of Gen. Booth the senior, have never been divulged, but there is little doubt that the cause of their defection was their Americanism. They have become American citizens. Under their administration the Salvation army in this country has become prosperous and has done a great and successful work in the slums. Much of-this was due to Ballington Booth, but most of it to his wife. Apparently envious of this success, and finding his own name under an eclipse, the general of the army, a typical John Bull in aggressiveness, discipline, and personal authority, sought to reinstate himself in the United States and set up a personal salvation machine of which he would be the boss. He ordered his son and daughter-in-law to give up their places and go to England. When they refused he sent commissioners over to remonstrate with them and induce them to obey orders. They were persistent, however, in this decision. Then the old man indirectly pronounced the anathema Maranatha and called upon the lads and lassies of the army to pray for Ballington and Maude as sinners "who have fallen beneath an, almost unparalleled weight of temptation and flattery,” thus seeking to humiliate them in the eyes of their followers. The prayer policy, however, has not worked as he expected. Large numbers of them, instead of praying, have deserted and gone over to the .newstandard of their old commander. Sentimentally the new army will have the sympathy of Americans. Religiously there should be room for both organizations. There is work enough to ac complish in the slums to admit of any amount of competition. Practically the issue must depend upon the executive ability of Ballington Booth as compared with that of his father. In any event, one organisation will be conducted upon the broad general principles of religious societies and worked for the general good, while the other will remain as the exponent of the one man idea—that idea including personal ambition and love of power as well as foreign military control, which is no; just now popular in this country. Singular Death-Bed Scene. Truth is not only stranger than fiction, but occasionally more amusing than the jests of the humorist. Wrlt-j fng of iSllzabekh Fry. the philanthropy Ist and Quaker minister, Mr. Hare, in his biography of “The Gurneys of EarL ’ham,” tells an almost incredible incident. During her frequent visits to Norfolk, Mrs. Fry by no means ceased from her ministrations: but even In her family she often had to trust her seed to very stony ground. It is recollected with a.musement how, when she was summoned to tihe deathbed of a Norfolk squire, who was nearly related to her, he received "her with this greeting: “I am glad to see thee, Elizabeth, and shall be very glad to talk with thee; but thee must just wait till these havt done,” On the other side of the bed were two cocks fighting. -—— That occurred in England sixty-four years ago, and the man was one of the landed gentry. The w-orld moves. Disappointment. A Washington paper says that a young lady of the capital city met a gentleman from a far Western State at, a party in Washington. "You are not from the far West, sir?” she said doubtfully. “Yes; I have lived there all my life. “Oh, I’m so glad to meet you!” “Thank you.” “But-excuse me—you see, I’ve reac -all the-Westero stories, and it seems to me that you’ve forgotten something.” “Nothing that I can call to mind.” . / “Why, you don’t say *thar’ and ‘look hyar, stranger,’ and use'all sorts of bad grammar, and wear a pistol so that It bulges out your coa>t.” T "I have never done those things.” “Oh, dear! Thep my idol is shattered!” - , ———— — ii—jf. "So you were thrown out?” remarked the ashbariTd. “That is what you get for being crooked.” "My crookedness is not my fault.” said the nail. “I was driven to it by a woman.”— lndianapolis Journal.

ITS OH I FOR AN OLD-FASHIONED NEIGHBOR. It’s oh! for an old-fashioned neighbor, Like the one I remember of yore, Who always neat calico aprons and gowns Except on the Sabbath day wore. And who in my care-laden hours, With n sunbonnet perched on her > head, I Ran in bringing bowls of nice jelly or jam. Or loaves of her freshly-baked bread; And then without asking me whether I needed her help, fairly flew To do In the kindest and quickest way, Whatever she saw was to do. Nowadays though a friend may assure me That over my burdens she grieves ghe really can't aid mo for fear of mishap To her laces or very big sleeves. And as for the clubs women govern Why, they are but schools for the arts. Where minds are improved in an elegant way But no time is devoted to hearts. Or else they are pledged to the seeking Os those whom most people condemn As lost beyond hope—so it's plain to be seen. There's no chance of assistance from them. . And it's oh! for the old-fashioned neigh bor, When my sky with dark clouds is o'er spread. To run In neatly dressed In a calico gown With a sunbonnet perched on her head. HOW THEY MET. By Esther Serie Kenneth. Pretty Mab Moore sat at a window of her home, turning a diamond ring round and round upon her slender finger But brightly as it sparkled, scintillating red and gold and blue, it could not break her dream—the happy dream of a girl in love. Her thoughts were far away. And they were bright and.beautiful as the diamond’s flash. Mab was engaged. It was a very recent matter—her engagement to young Mr. Everhard Lane, of the Larches. And the strange part of it was that she had not seen him for two years. They had been children together, for the Larches joined the Walnuts, which was Mab’s home; but at the death of her mother, when she was fourteen, she was sent to school, and when she returned, at the end.of the year, Everatd was at college, and they did not meet for another year. Mab seemed then to Everard to have grown so pretty I And Everard seemed to Mab to have become so manly! There was a new, strange charm in their intercourse. Mab learned the trick of blushing when he came, and he the trick of sighing when they parted. It was strange-ly-vivid June to these two young things; then Everard went abroad with his father. Mab’s father was an odd man. He would keep silent for a week before saying something of importance. Familiar with his habits, Mab was in some slight degree prepared for the revelation which followed. “Mehitable” the would always give her the whole dreadful name), “Squire Lane and I had a talk together before he went away. Are you attending to what 1 say?” • . "The Larches and Walnuts join. The squire and I are bothj>ld men. Do you hear, Mehitable?’ ’’ “Yes, father.” "Yes, sir.” "We have been thinking of the future —he for his boy, and I for my girl.” Mab started. "We propose to marry you two young folks, and make the estate one.” "Oh, father!" "Have you any objections?” "It is not as 1 say.” "Oh! what's the reason It ain't?" "Everard—” "Well, Everard's written you a letter. Here it Is. I'ako it and read it. Aud I guess there won't be any more trouble,”- concluded the old sea-captain, who knew little enough how to under stand girls."*' But Everard's letter settled all danger as to his matrimonial scheme. It was so warm, so manly, so gentle! The young gentleman could hardly have made love»better with his lips than wijh hisrpen. "Dear Little Mab: Since returning home this evening, I have had an interview witli my father,.and it seems as if I must see you; but it is too late tonight—you are probably sweetly sleeping. unconscious of the plans made fog us by. our fathers —and I leave at five o'clock in the morhing, so an interview Is impossible. But I wish I could see you. 1 prefer to be the first one to tell You that they desire, our marriage, anil that your consent to the union would give me the greatest pleasure in the wot Id. You know me well, with all my in perfections; but I know you only to dwell on every memory of you with delight and love. How proud I would he to call you my wife—my little jewel! Out fathers titink of land and bonds; I titink only of you. and hope that you do love tue a little. And that you will consent to their wishes and mine. W?lt-‘ me at onge, and give me permission win it I reach I’aris-to send you a ring. If I could only hold your little hand a moment and look into your blue -eyes, I should go away far happier, I think, I hope. “Dear Mab, 1 inclose my address. W t ite me as soon as you can. „ EVERARD.” Add to tliiS letter the facts that Everard Lane was the handsomest and best na lured fellow In the country, and you will see why Mab was very happy, aud expected to be more so

) Her reply wns very diilnty and sweet, like herself; and by-and-by Everard reached Paris, and the ring came. It was a beautiful solitaire. Mab had never in her life seen so line a diamond, i and wns never weary watching its changing sparks of color. They were rainbow-hued as her hopes. As soon ns the engagement was setr tied, Everard would gladly have return ed home nt any time; but his father had i- other plans, and turned a deaf ear to such suggestions. ; A year lengthened out, and another one was nearly completed, before he I began to contemplate returning home. How gladly Everard wrote Mab that they would set sail in November, an 1 ■ how delightedly she received the newsj And now Mab fell to dreaming more ' than ever. She had no mother or sister to confide in; all her sweet thoughts were kept to herself. Everard would look ! manlier, and he would have the > i air of foreign travel upon him. What : siorles of experience he would have to . relate! Would ho be disappointed to find her the same quiet little country 1 girl? No; she loved him so. he would | ; be sure to love her. i She pondered next how and where ; they should meet. She should go with 1 Ler father to New York to meet him, ns i the latter proposed? She did not favor the suggestion. No, she would wait for him at home, and she must have a new dress of his • favorite color, and wear the pearl-and-turquoise necklace he had always i liked, ami—her diamond engagement ring. • She was glad that her hands were so white and pretty—the ring looked well upon them. Her whole figure was fairer. plumper and more matured than it had been when he saw her last. She was full eighteen, and not “too young to marry.” Or she might wear her best suit and run away to Neighbor Norton’s. Everard would find her absent ; from home, and come for her. i And they would meet in the old par lor, which Everard had always declared “delightful,” or perhaps in the garden, if it were a fine day. Everard's magnificent old Slige - hound, which he had left in her father’s care, would follow her there, and the ■ j purple pigeons the young man had ! given her in the old days, would whirl and coo around them. Oh, it was so delightful that he was coming—coining! No more letter wrlt- ’ ing. though that had been sweet; but someone to caress and confide every ' passing thought to—some one to cher- ■ isl; and love her as she had never been j loved before. The arrival of the steamer was ex pccted on the fourteenth. On the thirteenth there came a terrible storm at j Liverville. Hail and snow fell, and the wind shrlekeed dismally all night. But at daybreak, John, the hired mat was off, news of his father’s expected death having reached him; and Joan, ! the maid, had the toothache, and had ■ wrapped her head in her apron. “It’s a heap o’ pain I’m in, sure!” she ' cried, and after dinner, with Mab’s permission. wont to bed. - _ I Evening approached, aud though the storm had ceased, and the sun was setting clearly, a severe cold which Captain Moore had taken developed such j 1 strong signs of pneumonia that he was | forced to declare himself on the sick I 'lst, and sit cowering over the fire. "But there’s the stock to be seen to. i Mehitable —the horses and cows to be ; ' fed. I don't think I better go out if I ' ' can help it. Can’t Joan do the chores ! i to-riight—just for once?” ' i "Oli, father, the poor thing has jusfc 1 i gone to sleep! She has been in such : misery with her teeth all day that she. iis nearly worn out. She says slie (Jid hot sleep a wink last night. I wilLfeed ! the slock,” said Mab. j "You—you can’t! The path is full of i sleet and you’d have to draw seven oi ’ i e.glit pails of water.” • "Well, if the poor creatures are sufi faring I can. And I’ll put on your big i coac and rubber boots to get over there i in. It won’t do me a bit of harm.” The old captain made some faint objections, but Mab immediately began j preparations. She soon appeared with a short crlrn- ' | son petticoat, peeping below the big, ' ' shaggy coat, and an old brown-felt hat ’ crowded down over her.sunny curls. As for her feet, they were hidden in t colossal boots of rubber, which greatly embarrassed her movements; but she r got slowly out to the barn after a grop- . ! jug fashion, and rolling aside the rumb- ’ 1 ling door, spoke cheerily to the patient , I creatures waiting there for their usual . care. f With praiseworthy perserverance and considerable outlay of her strength, she drew all the water required and . pitched down the hay. a When the, animals all had their supr pers before them, she drew a long sigh j of satisfaction, and, feeling specially 1 indulgent toward the pretty Alderney, 1 Daisy, offered a turnip, which the cow I received eagerly. But the turnip was small, and round, and hard,aud, drawing in great breaths, j Daisy contrived to let it slip, unmastt- - cated down her capacious • throat—which yet presented some obI struction to its free passage, and Daisy I threw her head up and commenced to j gm gle most unpleasantly. - Mail's lovely gray eyes widened with - fright. She watched the creature fo> t , moment, and then sprang to the doo . ;. crying: 1 “Father! father!” i, Her father was at the sitting-room I window, but' without, .just at the gat.e, was nearer help—a man, a stranger, it I. did not matter whom. "Oh, won’t you please come here?” cried Mab. “My father’s best cow is •- choking to death, and I don’t know it n hat to do!” I u Ihe man stopped to stare at her for a d moment, then came quickly across tbe road to the barn.

“I gave her a turnip; I did not thing it would choke her,” began Mab. Pulling a fine white silk handkerchief from his pocket, the stranger wound it about his right hand, and, without more ado, plunged it down the creature’s throat and drew out the turnip. "Oh!” exclaimed Mab with a long breath of relief. Daisy shook her liead and fell to eating hay. Mab watched her a moment, and then turned toward tiie stranger. He was waslilng his hands in a pall of water, and looking at her. "What a little guy!" he said, with a laugh. That low. pleasant laugh; the hearty, mellow voice; the glint of the line black eyes—Mab caught her breath. • "Oil, Everard. that it should be yon!" “Fortunately it was. Wasn’t I brought up a tinner’s boy, and knew what to do for a choking cow ever since I .can remember? Very fortunate for me, too, that it wasn’t some other follow summoned to this scene of distress to fall in love with you in that costume.” And laughing uproariously at the sucei ssion of blushes chasing over the dell cate face, he caught her in his arms and kissed tiie flaming cheeks again and again. The old hat fell back, the big boots fell off. and the nondescript figure In the young man’s strong arms was a very pretty little girl, happier at heart than words can tell, in spite of all. Mab laid a rather bewildered brain upon her pillow that night. They had met, but not exactly as she had anticl pa ted. ALUMINUM IN FAVOR. Increase In the Number of Articles Made of It. Aluminum quickly found favor in the kitchen, and its success warranted the manufacture of articles that are now found all over the house. The writing table is fitted up with the light, bright metal. It serves the smoker and tbe man who shaves; all kinds of toilet articles are made from it, brushes, combs, boxes, opera glasses. Everything that requires lightness, strength and dura bility to make it serve its purpose better is reproduced in ths material. On the dining table may be found gold-aluminum spoons aud forks, that are said to wear longer than the best plated silver. The gold is not a veneering. but is fused with and gives its color to the white metal. The physician finds it valuable for antiseptic dishes and the photographer Uses it for his plates, on which to develope pictures. The traveler and however, are the tines who receive the greatest benefit from this always clean metal. The v. eight of a bag is considerably lessen ed when all the brushes, boxes and bot ties are made of aluminum, and the cock’s “temper” is now a thing of tbe past, as she views her pots aud pans that are never black and are “as light as a feather.” It does not “chip” or crack, and the dough does not stick to it. and all the cleaning it requires is good soapsuds aud water. The small shops that were opened two years ago for the sale of aluminum articles have grow-into big shops, and the trade is increasing every day. It is interesting to learn that novelties are ' 1 eing added all the time to their stock. ; ■ Now the aluminum articles are being ' cast entire, there is yet more demand 1 sot them.” said a dealer. “This lobster fhkstand is cast all iu oue piece,” displayign a perfectly shaped, long-clawed crustacean, whose front legs moved iu life-like fashion. are a few drawbacks, however, in the way of a universal demafid for aluminum art:i ces. The price is comparatively high, i and there is no way of joining aluml num edges together except by riveting. It will not take soldering, but all that will.lie changed in time, and it has already made wonderful strides. Its lightness is a great surprise to those who are unfamiliar with it. Look at that big griddle, for Instance. Any other griddlebf the same size would l» cumbersome, but even a weak-armed coek can easily manage this. Sponges. There has been a great change in the price of sponges during the last dozen years, and a good-sized bathing sponge, such as formerly cost $5 and $6, may now be purchased from $1.'25 to $1.50, A very fair bathing sponge can be bought for 75 cents. A great many sponges come from the Mediterranean. Many of the ordinary sponges in our market are brought from Florida and the Bahamas. As every one knows, the sponge is a low form of animal life. After the sponges are taken by harpooning or by dredging they are exposed to the air on the hot dry sand until the animal matter they contain is decomposed, and only the skeleton, which composes the sponge of commerce, remains. The sponges in this condition are ordinarily floated in iron cages until they become thoroughly clean before they are offered for sale, f Physicians generally warn customers | against buying the snowy-bleached I sponges sold by peripatetic sidewalk I vendors, because they are often colI lected from the refuse of hospitals and other places where they have been in use, and cleaned and bleached again for sale. A physician usually selects a rather dark sponge, that shows no sign of having been bleached. The finest silk sponges collie from Turkey and the East, and are always costly. A spongin use should always be wrung out and hung in the open air where it will dry as quickly as possible after it has been in use. If a sponge is shut up in a tight box while it is still damp, it soon becomes foul in odor, and it cannot be cleaned without the use of chem> icals that injure the texture

OYSTER A£A MOTHER.! WHYfSHE LOSES MILLIONS OF HE« CHILDREN ANNUALLY, ■„ She It Lazy and Very Negllgent—W Bh* Were Careful Oysters Would Cove<| the Earth. I i Submarine circles are scandalized, ae-| I cording to a very learned man, Prof. IJ Herdman, who has been lecturing sere a very learned audience, the Ma- II lacologleal Society of London, on “Th? II Culture of the Edible Oyster.” He dH- II closes a state of things which amounts 1 to Httle less than a crying scandal In J submarine circles—a scandal compare with which the Massacre of the Innocents is a dewdrop to the Pacific j Ocean. The ordinary man knows but p little of the life of the oyster until It ' appears, inviting deglutition, upon its ’ half-shell at table. He regards family , life as sacn>d, and judges the oyster solely on its public form. To him the | oyster’s past is nothing; he is only con- i cerned with its immediate future. The learned lecturer, however, bad' - no such scruples, and, after the man- ■ ner of "scientists,” turned the daylight > of the magic-lantern upon the oysterstenderest and most intimate family relations. The result, as we have hinted, wns a revelation of an astonishing?? state of things. At the first glance it would appear from Prof. Herdman's researches that the oyster is doing its very best to lower its own price; and to that extant we may commend it, and even encourage it to further efforts. If you buy * single oyster, and instead of eating ’t forthwith, put it in a nice, comfortable place, where it will be free from worry, and leave it there for a season you will find that under favorable conditions that oyster has started a family of alx% teen millions, which will not only afford you an ample meal for yourself, but leave enough over to send around 'o M your more intimate acquaintances. H 11, however, you still jxistpone your ■ enjoyment, and leave your oysters to ■ IB e their own lives in comfort, you & will find that at the end of the next I season that you have between two or I throe millions of billions of oysters, 1 which you may easily ascertain to be p sufficient for all people that on earth ti do dwell, if everybody in the world had an oyster supper every night for a If this sort of thing went on for a fee " y< ars more, then* would be room In the world for nothing but oysters. Oysters would have to sup on us, Instead of fur- ■' nishlng forth our suppers, and the b shells would He twenty deep all over .h« | turth. Now. all this is not in the least fnncD g fill, it is simple arithmetic. Why are ® they not aVpenny a billion, as tliey’T should be? Prof. Herdman knows why, | and he told the Malacoibgical Society. it is no good mincing matters. Much tins ive may admire the oyster, we can K not blind ourselves to its faults, nor re* train from pointing them out to an Interested public. The oyster, though SO excellent a companion at lunch or at dinner, or nt supper, Is grossly Incom- | potent as n wife aud a mother. Her family is large; but she takes no pain® to keep it out of mischief. She is—we must speak plainly—lazy. She does not keep her children. : which she calls “spat" at home, and bring them up carefully; she lets thorn run about all over the place, and tuiflhie into the first herring that comes | u’ong. Site is quite negligent. This Is file more reprehensible since the d»n- U gers that surround the infant oyster are | almost innumerable. Tiie taste for I oysters is by no means confined to the I human race. There is scarcely a thing ! that swims which is not on the look- I out for them, and the oyster is quite ns i much sought after in the sea as in tn'e I city. But little imagination is required to picture tiie result of lids shocking negli gem-e on tiie part of the maternal oyster. Out of a family which with due care would number sixteeu million, shb f be-dom rears more than a dozen. Thus , we are face to face witli a problem. We i have to grapple with tbe fact that year [ by year hundreds of billions of frosh | young lives are cut off before they have | -veil realized what it Is to live. To | them the world opens but to close again 1 in darkness and the tomb;, it is but tne ‘ sf?p from the cradle to the grave. Something surely cau be done to start) | tile terrible tide of destruction which ’ overwhelms so many of these innocent creatures. We cannot even be sure 5 tint it is the most succulent that sut-1 vive. Bequeathing Brains to Science. The brains of criminals, suicides and® others less than normal have l>feen | t!iose chiefly accessible"to medical stq^ r dents, and it is not to be wondered at? that a Boston doctor’s appeal for the | brains of moral and educated people , should have been made. It Is said that I in response to this appeal of the Cor-1 nell society eight brains have l>een be-1 queathed to the institution for title study and twenty-five others now ; in healthy working order have been t promised. But is it not a question) whether brains that know for a period of years that tiiey are to be studied might not receive the impress of an abnormal degree of self-consciousness which would be revealed in a postmortem examination?—Kansas City Star s. 1 A A Studio of Glass. Verestchagin, the famous Russian artist, at his lususe near Paris, has a glass studio w J hich revolves on wheels just as a locomotive engine is turned on tiie turn-table. Tiie movement Is effected by means of a windlass conveniently placed beside the artist’g easel, and by tlilss Ingenious contrivance he is enabled to paint the whole day with the sunlight falling in one direction on model* and drapery