Democratic Sentinel, Volume 9, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 March 1885 — Page 6

I OUR DEAD. BYH. 8. KELLER. geoon. too soon life’s blisses fade and die; f soon the sun of joy from human eye fcawmaed fllebt in gloam of sullen night, fMde its glory fair from longing sight. »eoon, too soon the sweets of love do sleep wars oppressive, and in ail noe keep ■Vigils ot a-pa st, whose bright array ■d not outlive the passage of a day. haoon, too soon the breath of love on lip R freeze, where tender words were wont to g trip. grty alone grasps fancy as she flies, B-brings the loved ones back from paradise. I ll ages all, descanting ages past, I fe power not to pall life's overcast; I overcast of blisses that are shed 14 mt us w. th sweet voices of our dead. Uca, N. Y.

Margie's Locket.

BY JENNIE S. JUDSON.

*Stop & minute, fairy,” cried Dick ngton, as Margie’s tiny feet danced K “Can’t you stop long enough to ■> the birth-day present I have laght?” C A birth-day present! Oh! Doctor ?k, do let me see it quick.” ‘Why so poetical? Do birth-days ng inspiration?” ‘Oh! never mind the poetry now, aw tne the present, please ?” ‘Did I say a present?” asked the i mg man, provokingly. “I fear I re made a mistake in the mode of ex- , «sion. I should have said, ‘Margie, : fair young friend, I have an article »e for which you may desire to make A some exchange,’ and then have kited in silence your reply. Imag£<ne as awaiting it now.” THow provoking you are,” said the lung girl, with a bewitching pout, “to lude me into thinking you intended to ©sent a gift, when really you only mted to swap things.” rWhat do you say to kisses for an exjange?” whispered Dick, slipping an bi about her willowy waist. “They & easily obtained, you know.” “Are they?” asked the mocking little itch, as she darted away. “Where do u propose getting them with so little •>uble ?” rVery well,” Dick crfmly replied, rebeing a jewel-case in his pocket and mplaeently surveying himself in the {rror opposite, “each one keeps his fa, and I dare say mine is the best “Will one kiss do, Doctor Dick? Just ,e?” asked Margie, stealing slowly jward him. “Behold towhat a skeleton her treatent has reduced me!” exclaimed Dick, .dressing his image in the glass, “and t, to me, a victim for years to her prices, a patient martyr beneath all »r toils, she denies a few cheap

■“Well, then, how many do you ask?” ■ “Just as many as you have years to ■by, and that is fourteen, is it not ? I ll ■lke them in installments; three a day Wktil we part, and only one right now. ■Hill that suit your majesty?” ■: Margie took one glance at the atK active jewel case, and concluded that ■he proposition was a fair one; then, H yth a laughing grace, raised rosy lips Kir the kiss. K One seal of the contract given, Dick, Kpe to his promise, opened the case Kid displayed a handsomely wrought I tain and locket. I “Oh! oh!" cried Margie, “is that tally, truly for me ? And is there a aHpicture in the locket of you, Doctor ffck?” By*Yes. I had one inserted,” he antlered, teasingly, “for you to kiss and y over when you go to boardingIfuiool. Now, you are my little capI. Fe!” clasping the chain about her E jarly neck, “and when I am far away Ej Germany, and you are at ‘that horrid E>arding-school,’ you must let this light bond sometimes remind you of ■ Wf captor." ■/“Ohl Doctor I>ick! dear Doctor I l$k!” she cried, as, the locket all for- ■ at, she threw her soft, white arms ■pout his neck and nestled her golden ■Wad close to his warm young heart, “I Mnnot —cannot give you up. Why does [Bunt Margaret let us go away, the only |rro she has to love her, her brother Ibid her little ward ? She will be so I Jty lonely, and how unhappy we all | ill be apart.” E ’■“But, Margie," he answered, looking lawn sadly into the tearful, pleading ■ yes, “we must sacrifice our pleasure ■hr the sake of an education; my pro- ■. lesion is yet to be obtained, and your liljegiate course to be gone through | itli. Only four years of separation, | ad then think of the happy meeting E “Four years!” sighed Margie, “ I Khudder when I think of it. It is an ■ je, an eternity. Oh! Doctor Dick, E Minot some change be made ?” I? “Hush, little one; dry your tears and I 0 to show ‘auntie’ your locket. Our ■ ©arts will be heavy enough at parting; it us not anticipate that sorrow now.” ■ “Perhaps I’ll have a home of my own ■Bien you come back,” laughed Margie Ikat night, in answer to fjome saucy re■Sark of Dick’s. if “A home of yofiFown," queried that ■bung man, an unmistakable frown on ■s brow. IK“Of course; isn’t it often customary l*r young girls to marry when they I save school?” was the innocent i'ellinder. ; f “Oh!” coolly, “now I understand. | .hall I bring my little German wife to / A startled glance showed Dick that Bia naughty question had hit its mark, fend, with an exultant laugh, he caught Kargie in his arms, saying: [“Promise me, little one, that no home Kai mine shall ever be yours, and I will flromise you, by all that is true, that Ifo other‘lassie “shall ever hold your lUace in my heart. ” And Margie gladly promised. i Four years and a half! and what Khanges had been wrought! g Dear Aunt Margaret had left her ■taH&ly home for one that was far more KL; “Doctor Dick" was far away over Ea treacherous sea, and Margie sat Enna in her splendid room, gazing with bournful eyes out into the thickenMHer thoughts were on the happy IL R t tmd sadly she compared the love Ebich surrounded her then to the half!|enrt«M>nH coldness bestowed by the [lieUni relatives (whose home was hers >

“Doctor Dick has forgotten me quite, ” she thought; “his long silence gives sufficient proof of that. Alice and her mother only care for my presence here on account of my wealth; Aunt Margaret is lost to me forever, and I am indeed alone. My heart cries out for affection, why should a mere childish promise debar me its warmth, its balm ? I will no longer delay; Donald Draxton shall have his answer to-night.” No queen ever bore a more regal presence than Margie, as robed in shining satin, diamonds gemming her hair, her arms, her breast, she stood alone that evening in an alcove of the library, her hands pressed to her heart, while its glad refrain, “He is here, he is here,” made music in her ears. “I am sure I saw her enter this room,” she heard her cousin Alice say, “so 1 will leave you to your fate. But make your salutations brief, Dr. Langton, as I shall call for you in a very short time.” Was it possible that this handsome, well-developed man advancing toward Margie could be the merry, boyish “Doctor Dick” of four years agone? How could she longer doubt when both her hands were clasped in his, and he cried, “Margie, Margie, have I found aou at last? is this indeed my little Margie?” “Just so sure as this is Doctor Dick,” was the joyous response, as she lifted sweet, welcome eyes to his, all remembrance of the sad six months of silence blotted out. “Do you know what a weary, cruel search I have had for you ?” he asked. “ ’Twas the merest chance that revealed to me your whereabouts. Why have you sent me no address ?” “You speak in enigtnas,” Margie answered proudly, withdrawing her hands from his. “Why should I have thrust my address upon you when my last two letters have met with no response?" “Letters!” he exclaimed. “I have looked in vain for letters from you. After the news of my sifter’s death I fell very, ’very ill, and as soon as able to travel, went to Norway, where I wrote time and again not only to you, but to your solicitor, but all to no avail. A month ago I came to America and since then ! have sought you everywhere. A few days since I chanoed upon your name in the society notes of this city’s paper, and straightway I came as fast as st am would bear me to see and talk with you once more. And now,” eagerly, “tell me all about yourself, and why this cruel silence has occurred.”

“No time now for an interchange of confidences/* laughed Alice, as with merry grace she took Dr. Langton’s arm; “for you are chosen leader of the german, Dr. Langton, and Mr. Draxton is looking for Margie. ” “A handsome pair!” remarked Mr. Draxton, as, after a moment s gay parley, Dr. Langton and Alice moved away. “I suppose you have heard, Miss Margie, the rom ntic story of their summer tour through Switzerland, and its happy result. It has been known for some time that Dr. Langton was Miss Alice's fiance, but I have never seen him until to-night.” Had a goblet of living water been held to Margies lips only to be rudely dashed away ? A moment before she would have sworn that the woids, “My little Margie,” uttered so caressingly, had sprung from a heart full of love for her alone, but now, oh heaven I—the bitter pain she long had known was lurking in her heart again, and this cruel certainty was harder to bear than her former suspense. Dr. Langton’s eyes followed her from afar all evening, only to see her always surrounded by a group of admirers, and prominent among them the handsome figure of Donald Draxton. Missing her once, he sought the conservatory, hoping to find her there, when these low fragments of a conversation were borne to him: “Margie,” said a voice he recognized as that of Donald Draxton, “I beg of you to listen to me once again. I can not bear to see the desolate look upon your fa«e that twice to-night has rested there. Darling, you are lonely; can you not trust your happiness to my keeping ? My love is ” “Mr. Draxton, ” came a low voice a moment later, “you are my dear friend, the one whom most of all I trust. Shall I ” And that was all, no farther clew was given to the answer on which his hope of happiness trembled.

A pallid face, he scarcely knew as his own, confronted him in a mirror as he turned to leave the room. And when Margie met him a half-hour later all the old boyish brightness had died from his manner, leaving him a coldly elegant man of the world. A thin veil of reserve grew up between the two after that, as slight and intangible as the cobweb which barred the enchanted princess from freedom, and as difficult to breathe through. Margie' grew paler as a week wore on, and a passion of pain often filled her lovely eyes as she saw Ahce and Dr. Langton constantly together. One day, at a gav May-day gathering, her temper broke l>eneath the strain so ruthlessly imposed upon it. In passing under some low-drooping boughs her necklace was caught, and all her efforts to extricate it proved vain. “Permit me to unfasten the chain for you, Miss Margie.” said Donald Dr axton, springing to the rescue. “Do not hesitate to break the limbs, Mr. Draxton; the chain has been so long a source of annoyance that I will gladly be freed from its hateful fetters;” “Oh! that mysterious chain,” laughed Alice, “locked and the key lost. Would not some absent lover be rejoiced to know that you were compelled to wear his picture night and day?” “I fear I shall hart you if I break the links,” said Donald. “Is there no other way?” “I have no such tender scruples, Mr. Daxton, provided Miss Stratton can only be relieved from what she terms these ‘hateful fetters,’” said Dr. Langton, as, with a white, set face, and a stifled “permit me,” he wrenched the chain in two. Margie turned swiftly away, and the glittering gold of the necklace shone on the green sward below. “I shall appropriate it tempoiarily,” 4

! said Dr. Langton, and, stooping hastily, he picked up the chain and attached it to his vest, with the jesting remark, “There! Miss Alice, do you not consider it immensely becoming?” An hour later he had left the gay company and strolled away in the woods. There he gave himself up to painful thought. “Day after day,” he communed with himself, “have I w-aited for some slight but positive clew to her answer to Draxton on that eventful night. Day after day I have borne tortures in silence, but this morning the climax was reached when the necklace once so cherished was tauntingly left at my feet. And now Margie’s lips and not her manner shall decide my fate for me.” But what sound was this breaking upon the stillness? He raised a startled glance, and there, as if in answer to his thoughts, he saw Margie advancing toward him. She was quite oblivious to his presence, and walked with a slow and meditating air. All pride had left her beautiful face. The lashes heavy with unshed tears, the droop of the lovely lips, lent a child-like grace to her perfect features, and as Dr. Langton gazed at her all trace of resentment left his heart. “Margie,” he quietly said. “Do not be alarmed,” noting her look of startled fear. “I had hoped to have an interview with you to-day; chance has aided me. May I speak with you now ?” A look of proud, quick pain met his burning glance, as she replied, “Dr. Langton, I may be familiar with all you have to say. Rumor sometimes forestalls the deepest confidences. Perhaps in this case it has spared you the trouble of communication. “Rumor!” with pained intentness. “ What can you mean ? Heavin knows I have borne a terrible weight of suspense for the past few days, but I did not know I had so worn my heart upon my sleeve that others had noted and commented upon it.” “I referred,” coldly, “to your engagement with my cousin, Alice Montcalm. ” “My engagement with Alice!” exclaimed Dick, a great light breaking in upon him; “are you dreaming, Margie? A Dr. Langley is your cousin’s choice; but, natural as is the mistake, how -could you think I could so easily forget a promise made to a beautiful, goldenhaired child who had nestled in my inmost heart?” Had she, then, been cruelly mistaken ? Was the light breaking in for her, too? Too agitated to speak, she turned her radiant face away; but this restless suitor would brook no silence. “Margie.” he cried, “why do you not speak?” Then, seizing her unresisting hand, he added, impetuously: “One thing you will tell me straightway, for I will not bear this torture of suspense another hour. Has Donald Draxton a claim upon your heart? Oh! darling,” with indrawn breath, “how could I bear to give you up ?” Margie lifted a shy, happy glance to his and whispered, “Do you forget that some one else had made a promise, too ? Was she more likely to forget than you?” “My dearest," he cried, as he clasped her close to his breast, “have you then loved me all the while ? My heart was tern with anguish because I thought you had forgot.” “Doctor Dick, may I have my locket back?” was Margie’s shame-faced request a moment later. “I have had such a pain at my heart since I gave it up.”

“Oh!” with a happy laugh, “and yet how short a time ago its fetters were so ‘hateful.’ Confess now, sweetest, were you not a little jealous when you made that remark?” “Perhaps,” conceded Margie; “but my face did not half so much resemble a thunder-cloud as yours did. Please,” she whispered, “won’t you give me back my locket ?” “Yes, willingly,” he replied, “provided it be redeemed on the original terms. Give me one kiss, darling, and the locket shall be yours.” So Margie, as once before, raised tender lips to his and gave the kiss which not only won back her locket but bound her for life to “Doctor Dick.”

Tyrian Purple.

In a communication by M. Berthelot to a French scientific journal on th© magnificent purple of Tyre, so highly prized by the ancients, it is said that, according to tradition, the color w»s discovered by accident. A shepherd’q dog found a shell-fish on the seashore. In crushing the shell he cut his mouth, and the blood, mingling with the juico of the mollusk, gave the splendid pur t pie, which was subsequently applied to the dyeing of stuffs. No other colds has been held in such high esteem. Thq King of Phu nicia was so charmed witlij its beauty that he forbade his subject ], to use it, reserving it for kings anq heirs presumptive to the crown. Moses adopted it for ecclesiastical purposes, the vestments of the high priests and the ornaments of the* tabernacle. A| that early period the art of dyeing must have attained a great degree of perfection. Among the Romans the right to wear the purple belonged at first only to great conquerors; afterward it was assumed by emperors. In more modern times the purple robe has bee.i reserved for the highest dignitaries of the. church, whence the expression “Roman purple,” to express the dicnity of “Cardinal.” M. Lacaze-Duthieres, of the French Institute, regards the ancient legend as probably true history, at least so far as this: that the bleeding mouth of the dog led to the discover , of the shell-fish from which the ancients extracted their color. For a long time much uncertainty existed as to the species of mollusk so employed, and many regarded the secret as lost. But shellfish possessing all the characteristics by which the > noients designated the animal have been found on the sea-coasts of England and France, and if they are not now made to serve the purpose it is because means have been sou >d to produce the color from cochineal at less cost. I have often wondered how every man loves himself more than all the rest of men, yet sets less value on his own opinion of himself than on the opinion of others.— Apollodorus.

MEDICAL EXPERIMENTS.

disk* Taken by French Physicians In the Cause of Science. Some interesting as well as some very jxtraordinary experiments were made it tne hospital for old men at Breteuil, where the cholera appears to have raged with special force. Although th.s asylum-hospital was perfectly clean—a model of its kind—and the aged men domiciled therein had every comfort which they were capable of enjoying, they died off as if they were suddenly poisoned. Time was when the Parisians would have suspected that poisoners were at work. Not more than a generation age a man, who was seen examining edibles at a market stall in a cholera season, was torn in pieces by a mob because he was supposed to be a poisoner, and because a white powder, which turned out afterward to be pulverized sugar, was found in his pockets. The Prefect of Police, M. Pasteur, and a large number of eminent doctors, went up to Breteuil to see why it was that the old men died off so fast. All the food and drink furnished for the consumption of the inmates was carefully examined. M. Pasteur has not yet made Lis report, but meantime a great deal of twaddle is talked about microbes. A certain doctor who wishes to prove to the world that the microbes of Dr. Koch are without any action on the human organism, and that the dejections from cholera are neither infectious nor contagious, indulged in a curious experiment. A woman of thirtyfive, who, was in the domestic service of the renowned Professor Vulpian, in whose laboratory the doctor who made the experiment is well known, died suddenly with every symptom of cholera fully developed. She had cramps, diarrhoea, spasmodic vomiting, etc. The doctor caused some pills to be prepared with the deletions from the/sick room, and, after he knew that the woman was dead, swallowed them in the form of pills prepared with a little gum and some harmless powder. The experiment was made in the presence of Drs. Charpentier, Pinet, Marcus and one or two others. The doctor up to date is in excellent health. But two Guinea pigs, which had received subcutaneous injections of the same fluid abso bed by the doctor, died shortly afterward with choleraic symptoms. Many es the leading medical authorities say that none of these experiments are conclusive. Desgenettes inoculated himself with the pest (we had a frightful picture of it in the Salon this year). Peter rubbed his gums with diphtheritic membranes. These two seekers after truth were granted immunity from the infection which they thus braved, but they did not prove that the maladies were not contagions.— Paris letter in Boston Journal.

Animals as Barometers.

A writer in the Cincinnati JShr/jttirer says: Ido not know of any surer way of predicting the changes in the weather than by observing the habits of the snail. They do not drink, but imbible moisture during a rain and exude it afterward. This animal is never seen abroad except before rain, when you will see it climbing the bark of trees and getting on the leaves. The tree snail, as it is called, two days before a rain will climb up the stems of plants, and if the rain is going to be a hard and long one, then they get on the sheltered side of a leaf, but if a short rain on the outside. Then there are other species that before a rain are yellow; after it,blue. Others indicate rain by holes and protuberances, which before a rain rise as large tubercles. These will begin to show themselves ten days before a rain. At the end of each tubercle is a pore, which opens when the rain comes, to absorb and draw in the moisture. In other snails deep indentations, beginning at the head between the horns, and ending with the jointure of the tail, appear a few days before a storm. Every farmer knows that when swallows fly rain is coming; sailors, when the sea gulls fly toward the land—when the stormy petrel appears, or Mother Carey’s chickens, as they are called, predict foul weather. Take th© ants: have you never noticed the activity they display before a storm —hurry, scurry, rushing hither and yon, as if they were letter carriers making six trip* a day, or expressmen behind time? Dogs grow sleepy and dull, and like to lie before a fire as rain approaches; chickens pick up pebbles, fowls roll in the dust, flies sting and bite more viciously, frogs croak more clamorously, gnats assemble under trees, and horses display restlessness. When you see a swan flying against the wind, spiders crowding on a wall, toads coming out of their holes in unusual numbers of an evening, worms, slugs and snails appearing, robin redbreasts pecking at our windows, pigeons coming to the dovecote earlier than usual, peacocks squalling at night, mice squeaking or geese washing, you can put them down as rain signs. Nearly all animals have some way of telling the weather in advance. It may be that the altered condition of the atmosphere with regard to electricity, which generally accompanies changes of weather, makes them feel disagreeable or pleasant. The fact that the cat licks herself before a storm is urged by some naturalists as proofs of the special influence of electricity. Man is not so sensitive. Yet many people feel listless before a storm, to say nothing of aggravated headaches, toothaches, rheumatic pains, and last, but not least, corns.

Beards.

Most of the fathers of the church wore and approved the beard. Clement, of Alexandria, says: “Nature adorned man, like a lion, with a beard, as the mark of strength and power. ” Lactantius,Thebdpret, St. Augustine and St. Cyprian are all eloquent in praise of this characteristic feature, about which many discussions were raised in the early days of the church, when matters of discipline engaged much of the attention of its leaders. To settle these disputes, at the Fourth Council of Carthage —A. D. 252, Can. 44—it was euac ed “that a cleric shall not cherish his hair nor shave his beard.” Bingham quotes an early letter in which it is said of one who from a layman had become a clergyman: “His habit, gait and modest countenance and

discourse were all religions; and agreeably to these, hip hair was short. and his beard long.” A source o* dis ute between the Roman and Greek Churches has been the sul iect of wear iog and not wearing the beard. The Greek Church has adhered to the decision of the early church, and refused to admit any shaven saint into its calendar. and thereby condemning the Romanish Church for the opposite conduct.

Washington Manuscripts.

Very few people have ever had the temerity to charge George Washington with havimr written poetry, but a Mr. James H. Sanderson, of San Jose, Cal , writes that he is in possession of an o;d scrap-book, inherited from his father, George Sanderson, who lived and died in Wytheville, Va., which cont ins a manuscript poem of hexameter \ erse in the veritable handwriting of Washington, and entitled: “An Ode to Fame.” On the subject ot Washington manuscripts the most valuable find of recent date has been made by Zimmerman, a dealer in antique furniture in this city. They have been in the possession of a poor family near Alexandria for the last seventy-five years. They consist of several manuscript letters of George Washington, and a memorandum in his own handwriting, which latter doubtless possesses considerable value, as it supplies a missing link in the records of the First Auditor’s office in the Treasury Department. It comprises a list of furniture and fittings bought for the Executive Mansion between 1789 and 1796, the period of the Presidential residence in New York. The memorandum shows the first purchases ever made for the mansion, of which none of the departments contain a record. The chirography is unquestionably Washington’s. It is headed “Sundries bo’t on acc’t of G. W. ” The first item is “A large writing desk for President's office, $121.” It takes three closely written pages of foolscap to set forth all the articles. Among them are “Farmer Bassett, 2 dogs, weight 35 pounds, to guard President’s house;” “A Franklin stove for Mrs. Washington’s dressingroom;” “An eight-plate stove for the President’s room;” “Crimson damask to enlarge the state dining-room windows;” “13 patent lamps to illuminate the President’s house;” “Cotton to cover parlor and state furniture;” “One lot of furniture from Cragin;” 13 footstoves to be placed under the state din-ing-table. ” The most astonishing purchases are in the line of mirrors, the various lots aggregating 122. There is an extraordinary frequency of “lustres” in the itemized bill—these being bright beads of glass to suspend irom chandeliers. One item records the amount paid for “duties and freight on ornaments presented to French officers;’ another for “one box imported ivory chess.” Numerous household implements are charged, such as “half a dozen pair and irons,” “one cooking stove,” “one cop-per-plated kettle for kitchen,” “one brass wash kettle,” “two large washboilers,” “one dozen kitchen knives andforks.” Tapestry, carpets, curtains, and stoves appear in great pro usion. According to this paper there must have been purchased during that period at least 1,000 “patent lamps” for the President’s liouse, mainly intended, no doubt, for illumination purposes. Among the other manuscript recovered by Zimmerman is a paper marked “Lands owned by G. W.,” showing that the Father of his Country had six farms, ranging in extent from seventytwo to 620 acres. Some of these tracts are marked “sandy,” and others “bottom” or “sandy and hummock.” There is also a letter from Washington to a “Samuel Lawson, Esq.,” offering to purchase a certain negro man. Washington explains that he wants *the negro not so much to work himself but to “look after the other hands.” In other words he was in need of a “nigger driver”— Washington letter.

Charmed Into It.

The drawing-room door, like every other door in Hazlewood House, did its duty without noise. There are some people’s doors which always scrape and bang, just as there are tome people’s shoes which always creak. The Talberts’ shoes never creaked. The Talberts’ doors never uttered a sound. So Frank stood on the thick soft carpet and looked at Miss Clauson, who had no idea that her solitary exile was ended. She was seated on the music bench. Her hands were on the keys of the piano, but making no music. She was gazing with grave eyes far, far away—looking right through the center of the satinwood Sheraton cabinet which, full of choice porcelain, stood against the opposite wall. Her thoughts, sad or sweet, were in dreamland. And Mr. Carruthers stood watching her. He knew he was doing wrong—knew he ought to make her aware of his presence—but the picture "was to him so divinely beautiful that he could not help himself. The girl was perfectly dressed; if fault could be found with her attire it was that it was a trifle too old for her age. Her arms and neck gleamed wnite and fair from the black satiii of the dress, which fitted as a dress can only fit a form like hers. The rich brown hair was cunningly and becomingly coiled, and without jewel or e-\ en flower to detract from its own native glory. No wonder that Carruthers was content to watch her in admiring silence! And as he watched he saw, or fancied he saw, tears rising to those gray eyes. This was more than human nature could bear. Mr. Carruthers to this day assures himself that he entered that‘ drawingroom with no intention of pre ipitating matters. We may believe him, because, as it was probable that in a few minutes nine respectable middle-aged gentlemen would troop in, the occasion was not a propitious one. So it is clear that he acted on the impulse of the moment He never knew how he dared to do it, but before she looked round he was at her sidej his arm was around her—a music bench oilers dangerous facilities, it had no back—and he was telling her with passionate eloquence that he loved her—he loved her. —Hugh. Conway. Six millions of dollars’ worth of silver is used in this country every year for manufacturing and decorative purposes.

HUMOR.

The original barber-queue: The pigtail of a Chinese tonsorial art st. A young lawyer of Camden, Pa., has just had his first case. It was a case of measles. Judge—You are charged with drunkenness.' Prisoner—is, yer Honor, and if ye blaze I’d like to be dis-chaiged.— Washington Hatchet. A Georgia man has paid for a farm with the melons off it, to say nothing of the struggling young doctors he has firmly established in bus.ness. “Yes,” said the Deacon, “our Heavenly Father knows all our inmost thoughts.” “Then,” replied “He must be possessed of a deal of worthless information.” when he kicks. A man is very like a gun. Tne fact please try t > affix; For it he finds he’s char ed too much, Why, that’s ihe time he kica.s. Yonkers Statesman. Wife—“Do you think Jeff Davis aimed at despotic power?” Husband (henpecked)—“l think so, dear. He was found dressed in women’s clothes.”— New York Sun. “Why don’t you keep your hands clean ?” asked a Detroit parent of his 9-year-old boy the other day. “Oh.it takes too much Lme, and times are hard,” was the reply.— Detroit Free Press. Landlady—“Do you find your steak tender, Mr. Dumby? If not, I will ” Dumby (who was wakened at 5 o’clock that morning by the cook pounding it) —“Er—it might be well to let the cook hit it a few more times, I think.”— New York Sun., Mother—“ Are you quite sure, dear, that young Featheriy is not fond of you? He certainly seemed very devoted last night when he buttoned your glove.” Daughter—“Ah, yes, mother, but his hand never trembled.”— New York Sun. “Doctor,” said the grateful patient, seizing the physician’s Hand, “I shall never forget that to you I owe my life. ” “You exaggerate,” said the doctor, mildly; “you only owe me for fifteen visits; that is tlfe point which I hope you will not fail to remember.” “It is easy enough to see that that man has never served on a jury before,” remarked an old lawyer in court to a friend. “Why?” his unprofessional friend inquired. “Because he pays such close attention to the evidence."— New York Times. “Pa,” said a young Danbury boy te his father, “where are you going?” “To a hog-guessing match, my son.” “What do the hogs guess about, pa ?” was the next query. “Little, boys should be seen and not beard,” said the father, in an impressive voice.— Danbury News. “Algernon, love, the Doctor said that I absolutely required a little change. I was forced to tell him yon was always just run out of it whenever I asked you for any, and that it was weeks since you had given me a cent. Then he said I must need a great deal of change. Ain’t you ashamed, now?” But he wasn’t Not one bit. When Mrs. Oleo. the b arding-house mistress, was told that the inspector of provisions had seized 4t>B pounds of veal, 92 pounds of poultry, 52 pouncte of bear meat, 37 iambs, 6 barrels of peas, and 200 boxes of herring, she remarked : “Pretty good appetite; but nothing to some of my boarders. You?d ought to see them when they’re good and hungry.”

AT THE RINK. One more unfortunate. Trust, ng the fat s. Rashly importunate. Tried on the s at-js. Pick her up tenderly, Loosen the straps. Fashioned so slenderly, I nused to mishaps. Oh. it was pit ful That she should flop Where a whole city full Must see her drop. Pick her up tenderly. Smooth out her dress. Fashioned so slenderly. Made to caress. Bumping inhum nly. Jolting the mm, She is pure « omanly, And tries it agaiu. Pick her up tenderly, Wh-t do.s she care? Fashioned so benderly. So plump and so fair. —Merchant Traveler.

Mosquitoes and Yellow Fever.

The following propositions, whieh give in a condensed form the chief Conclusions of Dr. Carlos Finlay’s work on yellow fever, deserve consideration: Ordinary yellow fever is inoculable by means of the bite of the mosquito bn the third, fourth, fifth and sixth days of its natural evolution. The disease cannot be transmitted by the agency of the insect before the third day or after the sixth, no matter what the severity of the disease. The period of incubation of experimental inoculation varies as widely as that of ordinary yellow fever. The duration and severity of the fever produced by inoculation by the mosquito appeared to be proportional to the number of bites and presumably to the quantity of matter contained in the insect’s fangs.— London Lancet. A street scene in Havana: A man passes with a bunch of lottery tickets and scissors, calling out the numbers in a sing-song tone; then a horse or donkey is led by with a load of fruit or merchandise, in paniers on either side of his back; or a cow is being milked in front of a customer’s house; a man pAsses with a bunch of live chickens under his arm, or a negress with a huge cigar in her mouth; and then what from a distance looks like a row of elephants decked in green, but which on closer inspection proves to be a line of seven or eight horses, tied head to tail, so loaded with fresh fodder to a height of eight or ten feet that one can just distinguish the little animal’s nose and tail under the undulating mass of stalks. * The total vote of Nevada last year for President was 12,797 as compared with 21,660 in 1880. The Republican vote fell off 3, 202,and the Democratic 5,637, or more than 50 per cent. The decrease is due to the dullness of work in the mines. Nevada this year had one electoral vote for each 4,265 voters. In the same ratio the New York Electoral College would have consisted of 273 electors.