Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 August 1891 — Page 5

DODBLE DICK AND JOE; OR The Poorhouse Waifs.

BY DAVID LOWRY.

CHAPTKB Xm. JOB’S STRANOB VXSITOB. Monsieur Dufaur’s bell rang. One yonng lady entered, and two amerced from Dufaur’s academy. It rang again, ana a maid servant —a pretty girl—looked out.' The caller, a gentleman, retired Jauntily. As the maid was closing the door a little girl approached her. “Is Mr. Dufaur in?" “Yes; but he is engaged at present." The maid looked at the child suspiciously. “Well, is Mrs. Dufaur at home?” i “Yes, but she is very busy just now. ” “Well, then, the young lady—l forget her name —she’s from Barnesville —is she in?" | “See here, I don’t know anybody from ;Barnesville, and I’ve no time to answer your questions. Who are you, anyway, to ask such questions? Be off with you!” “You needn’t get so huffy Just because a person speaks to you. ” “A person! You a person!” The maid turned her nose in the air scornfully. “The impudence these little beggars puts on —it’s amazing. * But the beggar was out of hearing. A minute later she was relating her experiences to Mr. Ike Jenks around the corner. “2*o go, eh?” | “Jest froze me out ” i “Humph, Jenny, you ought to sweetpnftfi w • “No use tryin’. She ain’t the kind that sweetnin’ sticks to. I did all I could. ” “Well —but you’re sure Mr. Dufaur and his wife are engaged?” , “Dunno. I know a doctor pays Will .Tumipseed to say be is pngagod when ihe’s snoozin’ on a bare bench in his office. ” I “Well, there’s a quarter. ” I Ike handed her the coin, and soon the girl disappeared from view. “Point one. I’ll go right up to the door now, myself." When the bell rang again the maid !met a keen-faced young man at the entrance “Ah! Pardon ma I, ah—called — ah —pray is Mr. Dufaur occupied just now?” “You can see him in fifteen or twenty minutes.” j “No matter—no matter. It did not occur to me—l dare say Mrs. Dufaur is occupied at this hour. ” “Yes, sir.” “Ah! Very well, I will call again, unless ” the young man paused, then added, very deliberately, “the young lady from Barnesville is at liberty just a moment —I will not detain her a moment ” The maid courtesied. “I will tell her —step insido a moment” And then the maid left him. A minute late a young lady appeared, and led the way to the parlor. She looked at the young man. in silence and with apnrehension. “Ah! Excuse me—but I have come to ■—can I speak to you in strict confidence? My name is—there is my card, miss." Hq handed her a card on which she read the name, “Isaac Pratty. ” “Certainly—what is it you want to say?” She was very direct—came right to the point. He made a mental note of it. "Why, I came to tell you, miss—excuse me, I do not know your name. ” “No matter. It don’t signify. Go «n, sir. ” “I came to warn you, there is a scheme against you, miss. I discovered it by the merest accident in a lawyer’* office. ” “What is it?” “I can’t tell. I know something's up, and knowing it was against a young lady from Barnesville, and hearing there was a young lady here from Barnesville, I took the liberty to warn you. ” “What is it? Who is scheming?” Joe’s eyes flashed a look upon the visitor that puzzled him. Was she frightened, or was it suspicion that sat in her eyes. It looked like suspicion as the eyes read his, but it might have been terror. Ike proceeded cautiously. “I am not at liberty to tell. Maybe you would say it was mean in me to tell —but I can’t help it As for what is up, miss, that I don’t know. ” Joe looked at him in a puzzled way; ft was plain now she was perplexed. “Unless you know what lam to look out for, I don’t see what I can do. lam -obliged to you, sir. ” 6he stood silent Ike bowed, and withdrew. When be was on his way home, he smiled to himself knowingly. “That's all I want now. I’ve found her —she knows me. How she read mol That girl could pick me out ot a million. £ I’ve put a bug in her ear, too. And I didn’t give myself away. Isaac Jenks—you’ll get along in tho world—you’ll do. You’ll do.” And Ike pulled up his shirt collar and held his head a trifle stiffer. He was revolving a scheme —a beautiful scheme that was to surprise his uncle one day. In the meantime Joe was pondering over the warning. Who was he? A nice—a very nicely dressed young man he was, only she didn’t like him, somehow. His eyes were disagreeable. Why, she couldn’t toll. And why couldn’t he have scold her more? To come to warn her, and go away like that Of course it was the people at the poorhouse. Poor Joe did not know that it was a relief to the directors when a pauper ran away, walked off, or died. So the number was lessened, that was all they cared for. Would she tell Madame? Why—to cause unnecessary alarm. There was no need just yet By-and-by she would tell her. But maybe Zeke Caper would come some day and pick her up on the street She must tell some one. It would not do to be carried off, and nobody know what had happened. That would look like running away—and to run away would be very, very mean. But sh • would be on the lookout from this time forth. It was not often she had to go out: and she was always quick ftoaut her business. There was the music store; she was the messenger chiefly retted yj¥?.n to go And tbe

stand. She would not be harmed on the street And she would be sure to look under the bed every night now, Just to be sure that nobody was there in the pay of Mr. Caper, or Mr. Wonder. At that instant she heard Madame Dufaur calling her name. “My dear, I want you to go to the lpusic-dealer for me—and call around at the dyer’s, and see if my ribbons are ready." „ The dyer’s shop was in a narrow, poorly-lighted street Joe remembered the night she called there with Madame Dafaur the place made an unfavorable impression upon her. There were so many ill-favored men and boys lounging near a place with bright-colored bottles in the window. The bottles were filled with whisky and cheap wine. The gaslight back of the bottles made tho contents gleam in the night “Bring me ‘lll Fares the Heart,’ and any new song Mr. Gray recommends. And be sure to go round to the dyer’s. * Joe put on a bonnet and a neat light sacque Madame had a tered to suit her. The mußic was found in a few minutes. Then Joe went around to the dyer’s. There was a haug-dog faced man at the door of the sa oon she passed. She thought she had met the face somewhere. As she entered the dyer's, she tried to recall it, but failed. When she emerged from the dyer’s the street near the saloon was clear. She walked hastily but timidly passed the saloon. She thought “what If Mr. Caper is in there now!” But she was not molested.

And yet a footstep was dogging her’s. The footstep skulked in the shadow—darted in halways and doorways—crossed the street stealthily, followed her until she hurried breathless into Monsieur Dufaur's, thankful Caper had not kidnaped her. Then the hound that dogged her hastto a rendezvous appointed by Ike Jenks. “Well, Old Blinirer,” “It’s all a K.” “You must have had precious good luck.” “So I had. I wasn’t on the lookout more than a quarter of an hour till the door opened, and out came a girl same as yon told me to look for. She seemed awful *fraid. Walked as fast as she could —to that music store near the Dutchman’s Hall—you know where I mean. ”

“Yes —goon Blinker.” “She wasn’t in there long—then she went round to—well past Dandy’s saloon to the dyer's shop.” “Past Dandy's, eh?” “She didn't waste no time in the dyer's nothur. She more *n scooted home.” “That all?” “Why, in course I was as near as I could get I opened the door sly-like—-and I heard the woman say she was sorry—she'd have to come to-morrow night again. ” “Sure, Sllnker?” “I’ll hope J- may never ” Here Bliuker swore a horrible oath.

“Now, then; I’ll tell you what yoq must do, Blinker. You can loaf around there to-morrow evening, and get some of the gang to stay with you. You can make up some lie. Don’t give the game away. ” Blinker winked with so much mystery in his face as to justify the nickname. “Catch me!” “When you see her go into the store, or after she comes out, you lurch against her. Say you think she’s your cousin—or a gal you’ve met Leave tho rest to me. ” “Suppose the Bobby sees it?” “O! that’s all right—l’ve fixed him. That'S a man my uncle knows —and he knows I know him. No trouble with him. I’d give $5 —by George, I’ll have him cotae down on you. ” “Sco here, now. None o’ that. That’s playin’ it too fine, Ike. ” “What! Afraid of me?" “No—no more nor you are afraid of me.” They looked at each other Intently. “This is a square deal," said Ike. “I’m givin’ straight goods,” said Blinker. “All right then. ” “No Bobby in mine, if you please. No cuttin’ up rough, if you please. We kin Kanage without the Bobby seeitt’ me, yin’ bands on me. I don’t like it,” said Blinker. “Look here, Blinker. I’ll tell you a little ghost story. You remember Sdm Dolan’s hand—his right hand?” “I ought to—l chawed his right thumb nigh off once." “You look at the right hand of the new Bobby on that beat next time he passes you.” Blinker stared. “ Taiu't—’tain’t Dolan come back to life. Why, he was drowned —shot for a river pirate. Twas in the papers. ” “Was he? Maybe my uncle made a mistake. Wouldn’t it be funny if he has. Maybe I’ve never talked to the new man. Maybe I was dreaming when an awful cute man got my uncle to help him get this chan fixed on tbe beat here. ” Blinker looked at Ike in admiration. “You’ve got a head for a Congressman, Ike ” “I tell you he’s the man, but you know better than to blow it. ” “It’s worth too much to me. You bet I’ll be mum on’t. So he’s the Bobby! Talk about the ghost in Hamlet, IkeLord! If Dolan only gave a little squeak, wouldn’t tho boys have a night of it? I’m in for anything now.” “Well—do as I say—l’ll be handy somewhere, and then I’ll manage ail the rest, Blinker. Now, be sure you hang ’round tho corner there!” “You bet I will,” said Blinker. How much is in this for me, Ike?” “Oh!” said Ike, in a lordly way, “I’ll see its all fair. I never go back on a friend. " Then the couple separated, Blinker to return to his vile haunts among thieves, and Ike repaired to a locality where ho was in the habit of meeting eonginial spirits. Ike was in a very agreeable frame of mind that night. His thin lips puckered frequently as he twirled the light cane ne he’d in his hand. “Won’t I paste it on my uncle's eyel— O! won’t I, though?” And the light cane struck his thin legs £gain and again. “Won’t I, though!” CHAFrEK XXV. THB NICB YOUNG MAN, AND HERO. Lawyer Jenks looked up when his nephew closed the door behind him the next morning shortly after the lawyer entered his office. “Well’” “I called at Mr. Dufaur’s. I didn’t see the person from Barnesville, though. ” “You did it What prevented?” Jeremiah Jenks was biting his nails; scowling. Ike continued in an indifferent nftnner:

"Nothing much; only a matter of ten or twelve miles. * “Ehl What’s that? Don’t speak la riddles to me. ” “I’m not The girl Isn’t at home just now." “Where is she?" “She went away for a day or two with some friend of Mrs. Dufaur’s. ” “Humph! How did you find out?" “From a girl that lives next door. No, I did not talk to her, but a man who goes with her did, and he pumped her for me. ” “Humph!" “I’m just telling you all I know.” “Humph!" “I am giving you straight goods." “ ‘Straight goods ’ Kepeat that slang again and I’ll discharge you. I will, so help me." How ofton have I told you to keep your slang for your low associates?” “I’ll tiy and remember." “You’ll remember.” “I’ll remember." “The girl—who told her?" “The. girl in Dufaur s, of course. They are thick as thieves. ” “Humph!” Jenks the uncle was chewing his nails savagely. “Where does tho friend live?” “The girl didn’t know.” “Humph!” “See here—you don’t believe me.” “No, I don’t. You are lying.” The uncle and nephew looked fixedly at each other. “If I am lying, that settles It" Ike was returning to his desk in the back room, when Jeremiah called him back. “Hold up your hand. Swear it's the truth. ” “I’ll hold up hand —but what's the use. The man that tells a lie will swear to it.” t “No matter. You needn’t swear. Now, then. If she’s not there, when she comes back how will you know?” “My friend will find out in a little while and let me know.” “No possibility of a mistake?” “I’m pretty sure of It. ” “If I call you in in a little while you know how to answer my questions. ” “I guess so." “That will do. ”

Half an hour later Job Wondor entered Jeremiah Jenks’ office. The attorney received him cordially. His knuckles cracked as he creased his fingers and interlaced them. “A pleasant day, Mr. Wonder. I’ll have to disappoint you—but It will be only for two or three days. The person I have In view unfortunately is not in the city. She was sent away—to be gone a day or two." “Humph!” said Job Wonder.

Now, although the lawyer had uttered a similar ejaculation recently while listening to his bright nephew, he did not relish it coming from another. He turned quicTcfy to tfie farmer. “You are not satisfied, sir?", “No! Nor I don’t tnfnV you’d be in my boots. I’Ve come, I’ve waited, ’n nothin’ to show for my time ’n trouble. I can’t stop in New York long—got plenty things to look after at home. ” “I am sorry I cannot show you the person I mean; it is not in my power to-day. ” “About to morrow?” “One moment.” Mr. Jenks advanced to the dpor and called aloud: “Ike—here a minute.” Ike responded promptly. “You told me the young lady you called to see is out of the city far the present?” “I did.” “Can you assure this gentleman when she will return?” “No; except that she won’t bo away more than a few days. ” “A few? How many do you call a few, young man?" “Why, two or three. ” “That settles it I can’t stay here three days. ” Ike looked at his uncle. His uncle looked at the farmer. “I have no more to say.” “If I thought the girl would be here to morrow I’d stop over.” “Well, Ike, what’s the chances?” “Why, she’s as likely to be back tomorrow as any day,” said Ike, promptly. “How’m I to know when she’s back?” “Give me the name of the hotel you are stopping at” said Mr. Jenks. “I’ll do that, ’n I’ll cal’klate on seein’ some of you ’fore this time to-morrow, so's I’ll know whether to put off for home or stop over till night ” “Precisely. Well, we. will try to give you notice as early as possible. ” “All right Good-mornln’." And Job walked away, shaking his bead, and saying to himself: “I don’t like these here lawyers, a bit Seems to me as if that fellow doesn’t know his own mind. Bat what In thunderation did he bring me off here for? There wouldn’t be no sort of sense in lyin’ to me. I guess he's got on Joe’s track, *n is keepin’ quiet about it" [to bb continued.]

A Sad Appeal.

A middle-aged, healthy-looking man, who had called at the Postoffice for a letter several days running, returned yesterday with the usual inquiry, and was answered as before: “No letter for you." “Are you quite sure?" he earnestly asked. “Oh, yes,” “Alas! but I can’t make it out!" sighed the man. “I should have had one Monday, and this uncertainty unnerves me." “Expecting to hear from some of your friends? queried the clerk, touched by his despondency. “Yes—my wife.” “She is away from home?” “Yes, in Buffalo.” “Any one ill ?” “No, not exactly." “But you were so anxious I thought it might be a case of life or death.” “It is, almost. You see, she cooks in a restaurant and sends me $5 per week to live on here, and this is the tlrst time in six months I have missed a letter on Monday. I don't know what to think. She may be ill—she may be out of a job—she may have gone back on me. I may even have to so to work again and earn my living! 'lease be very, very sure tnat you have not overlooked my expected letter."—Fret Press. “Now, my dear boys,” said the Sun-day-school teacher, to his infant class, “what shall I tell yon about th™ morning ?” Star Pupil (eagerly)—."Tell us all about de eluggin’ match ’tween Dave as Gerlier.”

REAL RURAL READING

WILL BE FOUND IN THIS DEPARTMENT. lupaKM«a of Small Farms—An Important Subject for Farmers to Discuss— Bow to Make a DrlnlKtng Fountain tor JPoultrjr—Live-Stock Notes—The Dairy. Household, and Kitchen. THE FARM. Roads.

ONE of the most important subjects that farmers can . discuss at their in--Btitutes is the improv eme n t of country roads. ) Within the last 4 K V quarter of a centu- / ry marvelous Imf! provements have i ' )cen ma< * e * n ra *l’ way and ocean J 7 transportation, but Jy within that time y thero has been littie or no progress fjjgk in the making or improving of common country

roads. Railroad transportation rates have been reduced until it costs no more to carry a bushel of grain to the seaboard than It docs to haul it the average distance from the farm to the railroad. It does not look very well, then, to be grumbling' about freight rates when thero is such an enormous waste of power dragging loads of grain from the farm to town over bad roads. Good roads would greatly lower the cost of transportation, and bring the farmer nearer the market. In no better way can the selling value of the average farm be Increased than by good roads. The popular way to make any expense abhorred is to show it up as a tax. A very good application of tfris can bp made to bad roads. Some of tho Taxes about which the farmer is urged to grumble are utterly insignificant in comparison with the indirect taxation of the bad road over — and often through—which he hauls his products to market. It costs money to build good roads, but they are worth all they cost, It costs a good deal more to travel over bad ones than it does to build good ones. One of the best things the farmers of any community could do for themselves and the common welfare is to unite and thoroughly improve the highways. The best methods of doing this should be discussed and decided upon at the Institutes, and organized efforts made to carry Qut the improvements.— Farm and Fireside.

Importance or Small Farm*. The most successful farming I havo ever seen has been on small farms, says Waldo F. Brown in Country Gentleman, and in my own practice the most profitable and pleasant farming I ever did was on a farm of forty acrey. jority of farmer!, f think havetoo’many acres, and would make more money and do less hard work If a part of their land were sold and the money invested in improving the acres left. Many farmers act as though they considered the great object in life to die possessed of many acres, while undoubtedly it ought to be to enjoy comfort as they pass along their journey. I have had a chance to contrast the large and small farms to some extent the past winter, and I have been confirmed in the opinion that as a rule the man with a small farm has less care and a larger per cent of profit than one with a large farm. On a large farm there Is a loss of timo in drawing tho crops, taking out manure, and in getting around to feed stock, and tho owner cannot give that personal attention to which the owner of a small farm can, and as a consequence there must be innumerable small losses which aggregate a large sum. The man who manages a small farm, first to supply h!6 family all that ho possibly can for their support and comfort, and then chooises wisely some specialty for a money product, will, as a rule, be found prosperous even in hard times. I hav_e not met a butter specialist at tho institutes the past winter who was complaining of hard times. I have known poultry farms run at a handsome prolit, and various specialties which have brought comfort and competence to their owners. The family with a full supply of fruit, vegetables, poultry and dairy products, meats and breadstuffs supplied by the farm, and which has a surplus of each to dispose of to pay bills, can live easily and comforably on a small farm, and will not need to cultivate a great breadth to meet expenses, for these can be kept down to a low limit It i 3 not the acres wo cultivate, nor even the bushels of grain produced, that determine the profit of farming, but the most important factor of all is the art of production, and next to that is the wisdom with which we feed and sell the products of the farm. A common mistake and one which often means lifelong bondage for the farmer and his wife is to buy a second farm after they reach middle life and ran in debt for a part of it and increase their cares and labor without increasing their net profits. Ditcher for Snriacw Drainage in Wheat. ■ The generally accepted opinion among leading farmers is that land for winter wheat should not bo plowed near the time of sowing, but should receive frequent shallow cultivation and -be compacted as much as possible. This top

cultivation naturally fills up the furrows. To rc-epen these use a ditcher. Easily made and costs little. This Implement used before—not after—the drill will lift the soil out of the furrows and the wings will spread it back evenly, leaving the land nicely rounded to be crossed at right angles by the drill, and the little channels made by the feet of the drill should be left unmolested to form a ready exit for superfluous water. Description: A—polo 7 feet long, 10 inches in diameter. ll—wings 4 feet |ong and 4 inches by /hchcs, screwed io the upper part of A with one or two braces further back. O—point, the foot of an old cultivator will do. D—about 2% feet of old sleigh shoeing attached to A ar.d C by the same two bolts. E—piece of old saw }or sharp edged tool projecting downward through A to act as a rudder. Total cost: A little Ingenuity,one and onebalf hours’ *nrk <*•*! a blacksmith’s bill

of 48 cents.— J. JI. Cannon, in Practiced Farmer. " ‘ Livestock Notes. The following notes on stock are from the columns of the Northwestern Farmer. In the Summer at least, mill feeds can be purchased and fed to pigs with profit. If you are breeding pigs to sell young raise the ones most sought for in your vicinity.' Wheat middlings is a good material for growth, and corn oue of the very best to fatten. Pigs naturally have a strong, quick digestion when it is not over crowded or clogged. Improper feeding of the dam often causes serious disorders with the pigs. Use care in this respect With pigs, young animals give a better return for the food given than those that aro more matured. Breed, feed, fatten, and market the hogs young. This is tho surest way of clearing tho most profit If you are feeding for profit see that the pigs have a good pasture, fresh water, and a comfortable shade. Properly fed out a ton of wheat middlings will go farther in making growth with pigs than a ton of corn. One advantage in letting pigs have the run of a good pasture is that they will usually take all needed exercise. When they can be secured at a reasonable cost threshed oats make a splendid feed for a young growing pigs. The secret of good breeding is that the extra food digested goes to profit while if thero is no gain it is wasted. It is poor economy to keep a pig poor and lean all summer in order to give him a good appetite for corn in the fall. Young growing pigs crave a variety of food, and it can bo given in their slops to a better advantage than in any other way. The sow or boar that has nothing to recommend it but pedigree, should be fattened and marketed as soon as possible.

THE POULTRY YARD.

Pitching Eggs. After procuring baskets of light, tough material aud proper sizes, writes F. E. Nuss to Fancier and Farm Journal, I place a lining of two or throe thicknesses of paper on the sides and bottom of basket. Place a layer of Excelsior three-fourth or one Inch deep In bottom; then take each egg and wrap It separately in one or two thicknessess of paper (any kind of tough paper will answer.) Taking a small bunch of excelsior wrap each egg, seeing that It is completely covered with a thin layer. Place thorn in the basket close together large end down, as they will stand long transportation and rougher usago better in this way than any other. When they are all in, press excelsior between sideß of basket and eggs; then put a lawyer of same on top of eggs one to one and a half inches thick; then lay two or threo thicknesses of paper on this. Take strong muslin, cut out a piece a little larger than the Inside of the basket. Take a strong needlo (a small sack needle is best) and twine, and sow through tho sides of the basket and edge of muslin, drawing the muslin down tight. Now, fasten your card on the muslin; tie shipping tag, with purchaser’s name and address, on the handle of basket. Then you hive a package that you may feel suTe will reach. Its aestlnatlon safely, if any of thorn will. The lining of tho basket and the wrapping of tho eggs with paper may be dispensed with later in the season, when danger of the eggs becoming chilled is passed. wf nfrr.-.A. Drinking Fountain, Charles 1. Junkin, fn the Practical Farmer, thus tells how to make a drinking fountain for poultry. Materials: An old or now baking pan, the larger the bettor, and an old box, large enough to bold the pan. Run the pan Into tho box like the bottom drawer of a bureau, allowing it to protrude two Inches, and

then board up the rest of the box. Six advantages: Ist Cheap. 2d, Easily made. 3d. Shaded from the sun. 4th. Cannot bo upset. sth. Water cannot bo soiled. OtL Easily filled and easily cleaned. Poultry Mote*. ' Neveb expect hens to pay for themselves in winter unless you givo them a little extra care. Neveb fail to have a good supply of gravel where It is available for use when the snow is on the ground. Neveb begrudge a few dollars for some fresh blood each year, for It will always be worth more than it cost you if you gek the right stuff. Neveb cheat yourself with the idea that there is as much profit in an old heu as there Is In a young one. An old hen will lay quite likely, but not so many eggs as will a young one. Neveb feed your chickens three times a day, twice is often enough unless It be In cold stormy weather, when It is a good plan to throw a handful of fine grain in the straw and litter at odd times to keep the hens busy. Never forget that every poultry fancier has his hobby and that each and every breed has its merits, but the fowl that cau stand the test of the common market Is the fowl for the poor man.

THE DAIRY.

Aerating Milk. , The system of aeration, of cooling milk by air, as it passes through the milk, cools every drop and removes all the odors and gases. When we surround milk with ice and cold water, we reduce the temperature before the animal heat and gas has been displaced from the milk. Ho soon as the milk gets back to the temperature of the outsiac air, the gasses re-act and rapid fermentation soon spoils the milk. Never apply cold water or ice to milk until it has first been aerated. This great invention of "aerating milk not only removes the heat, odors and gasses, but will largely neutralize the bad effects of impure water or impure food. If milk were properly aerated before being taken Into the system, the liability of sickness from that cause wanld be removed.— Grange Hornet

MONKEY ACTORS

A. Man Must Become a Monkey t» Teach a Monkey. The training of monkeys for stage performances demands peculiar talents and a curious psychological ability on the part of the instructor. Brockmann, probably, the most successful monkey trainer that the world has seen, once described thus the necessary method of approaching a monkey pupil: “To the monkey man is a strange and incomprehensible being. I therefore must adopt as far as possible the monkey’s way of rcgtt ding persons and things. Tho monkey must find in me ohe of his own kind—a monkey like himself.only a much stronger monkey,whom ho must obey. When he has something which he can understand, he accustoms himself to it, and he voluntarily takes more pains to comprehend me than ho would take to comprehend a being who made on him about the same impression that a monster from another world would make on Us. I adapt, therefore, all to his mode of life, when he disobeys and rebols against me I do not strike, because he does not strike, but I bite because ha bites.

The behavior of a troupe of monkoys trained by Brockmann would undoubtedly strengthen the convictions of the Russian Duroff, who gave up teaching in a high school to instruct pigs and geeso, and who holds that, of all pupils, human pupils aro the loss docile. A man once behind tho scenes of Brockman’s monkey theatre wrote a few weeks ago: “I have always regretted that Brockmann did not give his performances on a perfectly open stage, so that the audience could sec the waiting performers. The oonduct of the quadruped actors while awaitiDg their parts was much more fascinating than their best acting before the audience. Like a company of gnomes or Liliuutians the little performers sit there dressed and mhdo up, perfectly woll behaved, each in the proper human attitude on his tiny chair, each following with undivided attention and eager anxiety the progress of the play so as to be ready at the exact moment for his appearance. No person is near them, no servant or attendant to distract them, and no prompter to whisper at the proper time: “ ‘Fraulein Lehman, look out ! You come on immediatelyor ‘Herr Schulze 1 Where is Herr Schulze? Quick 1 Quick I You must go on.’ “Every one knows his part perfectly. Every one is acquainted with the progress of the plot aud with tho stage of the development at which he is expectod to appear. Without a catch word or motion ho hurries down from his tiny chair and out on the stage, plays his little part, and, without a bow for the approval of tho audience, turns back to his Elaco, not to leave it before duty calls im again before tho footlights. Here all alone and unwatched these little fellows never forget their roles so far as to settle down on all fours, cower in monkey fashion, or indulge in the pranks of their mercurial natures.”—-[New York Bun.

An Agreeable Empress.

The celebrated Dr. Metzger, of Amsterdam, who last year successfully treated the Empress of Austria, has only one waiting-room for all his patients, whatever their rank or condition, says a French paper, Each has to wait his turn. Borne time ago a poor woman who happened to bo there, turned to neighbor, a distinguished appearance, nqtwithstaading the simplicity of her attire, ana said: “How long w§ have to wait, to be - sure I dare say you havo got a little , chllaathomo, too?” “No.” V “But when you get back you will have to sweep out your rooms?” “No, I have folks who do that for mo.” “Indeed? But you’ll wont to get dinner ready?” “Not even that, for I dine at tho hotel.” <*■ “Verv well, as you have nothing par - ticular to dp, you fhight lot me have your turn?” *—■ .. “Very willingly,” replied the lady* , who was tho Empress ol Austria.

A Turkish Candy Feast.

This lenten month of Ramazan is fol- • lowed by three days of kcuff (pleasure) and tebrik (congratulations). This is the time when all good Moslems, very much as Americans do during Christmas, visit each other and give presents to one another. The subordinates pay their respects to their'superiors, and the young folks kiss the hand of their elders. Thu is called the feast of Sheker-Bairam—-viz., sugar festival. The amount of candies consumed during these three days is simply amazing. Tons and tons of Oriental bonbons are distributed by the Sultan’s private treasurer among the goldicrs and students of Constantinople. Now <b the time when everybody partakes of rahat-lokoom—the famous - “Turkish delight’’ or “fig paste,” as Americans call it, although figs have nothing to do with it—and the delicious ghyul-beh-sheker or roselcaf jam. No wonder our American dishjl (dentist) in Constantinople has always more work than he can attend to. —[New York Mall and Express.

A Glove Described.

People who know about g-.oves use a complicated vocabulary. They call the piece of leather a glove is made out of a trauk. The side pieces to the fingers they call fourchettes, and the little pieces that join the fourchcttes to the gloves they call quirks, or sometimes gussets. The binding Up and down the opening for the buttons and buttonholes is the slit welt, and the top welt is the pisce which is added to the top of the glever" ' When they get to vlove seams they malts a number of nice ? distinctions in stitches. They call it an ini when the edges are turned in and stitched through the inside. They talk about a prick scam when lapped over another. Oftencst of 1m they speak of the overstitch when the edges of the leather are sewn through and round. The welt seam is like the in-seam, except that it has a third piece ■ of leather in the middlo. ■■tWsl