Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 September 1891 — Page 4

TO CORRESPONDENCE

All Bommanlcatione for this paper ahould be r.ccom. fuw) D, the name of the author; not necessarily fol ‘publication. Dot as an evidence of good faith on the pail •of the writer. Write only on one side of the paper. Be vart'culariy careful, in giving names and dates, to liars s.- letters and figures plain and distinct.

The Presbyterian census shows 806,J 96 members of the church. Yet one heretic can make more noise than the Entire congregation. The steamer Teutonic broke the transatlantic record again. That record is now getting broken about as frequently as the pledge. Mr, Melbourne’s rain machine is so utterly a failure that people down in Ohio are said to have ceased laying money by for a rainy day. The new microbe that has been discovered on greenbacks and nationalbank notes is far from being the only parasite that lives on the public money. A town in New York- State has disbanded its police force as being superfluous and idle. Was there no politics there to furnish the coppers with employment ? If the hungry people over the water will learn more about corn, the hog, and Boston beans, they can pad in many vacant spots where the wheat and rye fail to fill. Lightning struck a church down South, and knocked down fifteen good people, while the wicked fellows out in the shed playing cards were not touched. It happened so. Missouri comes to the front with an •enormous, mop of hickorynuts this year, and there is no reason why the editors of Missouri newspapers should not fatten up considerably before next .spring. The statement seems incredible that Japan has 2,000 newspapers. A quarter of a century ago they hardly knew what a paper was. They are the brightest people of their complexion to be found anywhere.

They say that out in South Dakota men who are familiar with the local customs always stop in at the court clerk’s office on their way to dinner to see if their wives have procured a divorce since breakfast.

Mrs. Stagg’s biggest-on-record tarpon has been mounted and will be exhibited at the World’s Fair. Do the tarpon fishermen propose thus to permit a woman to carry off the honors in eight of the nations of the earth? 'The heading of an item in a recent Boston paper is “Ben Butler Alive and Kicking.” Of course, the latter part of the heading was entirely unnecessary. Ben will always be picking until Death gets him by the collar. The porter of the Grand Pacific Hotel in Chicago has retired with a fortune of SIOO,OOO, accumulated from tips given to him by guests of the house. The men who contributed it are still struggling to keep the wolf from the door. 1 Now that most of the nations of the 'earth are sending out expeditions in search of the north pole, it may not be wholly impertinent to inquire what they are going to do with it when they find it. Doubtless it would come handy in knocking down persimmons, but wouldn’t it be cheaper to shake the tree? Another decrease of fifty cents a pound in the price of aluminum is announced, and another step is • taken toward the aluminium age when our boats which do not navigate the air go with the speed of railroad trains •on the water, and when moth and rust ’will not corrupt so promptly as in the past. There have been a half dozen attempts, within a couple of decades, to 'expatriate the negroes to Africa, and somebody is reviving the old chestnut. The theory is well enough, but practically the scheme will not work. The negro does not want to go, and nobody would put up the pile to send him if he did.

A number of doctors at New York have been baffied in an effort to find a nail swallowed by an infant, and have •cut the little one up considerably in their search. In a’l cases of this kind a woman doctor should be employed. Such a one would at once give the child a hammer to swallow and thus •drive out the foreign substance. Some of our political economists ask ■*Do we want Cuba?” Certainly'we do. Of course wb would rather 'have Hayti, for they have more revolutions to the minute there, but Cuba ♦has enough to make a very enjoyable •merry-go-round for such of us as don’t -wish to go too fast, a:d we’d better ttake it and get it in good order before the World’s Fair opens. The pugilists who did not fight at •St. Paul recently have begun writing (letters to each other, and the Governor •of Minnesota is now harassed by doubt as to whether he would not have contributed more to the cause of humanity H>y letting the fight go on. The gladiators in that event might have nearly mui dered each other, but as it is they ■will quite murder the English language. Imagination goes a long way in reniexing people’s ailments. A lady in Detroit has for the last six months reg•nlated the air of her room by a glass transom. When the room was too -dose, she opened the transom to admit

air, closing it at night to prevent draughts and exclude noise. It worked , like a eharm until she discovered that there had never been any glass in the transom. The Pennsylvania Legislature has been considering a bill that prohibits the exhibition of physical deformities as a source of pecuniary gain, as some of the freaks in the dime museums. The Medical Record thinks that it is an unnecessary interference with the comfort and well-being of those unfortunates who find in the museums a means of existence and perhaps even pleasure. Where, for instance, could an ossified man have more fun than in watching the crowds that watch him ?

Since our scientists adopted the fad of finding things with tails hung to ’em, one of them has dug up a lot of human skeletons with caudal appurtenances and another has discovered a new comet. These things arouse a suspicion that the geologist who is boring that deep hole in West Virginia is really inspired by some other hope than that of, learning the formation of the earth’s crust; and if, indeed,’he is looking for a famous person with a tail, he seems to have exhibited good judgment in selecting a starting point.

The proposition of a Kansas City Aiderman to abandon the practice of charging liquor-sellers a license fee and license the drinkers instead is at least novel. He would charge the habitual beer-drinker S2O a year and the drinker of all kinds of drinks SSO, thus imposing a financial penalty upon the imbiber of mixed drinks in addition to the penalty that nature commonly exacts. The s-age Aiderman estimates that this system would net the city $1,000,000 a year, as no doubt it would if the Aidermen were not exempt from the tax.

In a New Jersey shore town the other day a man died of hydrophobia, it was said, caused by the bite of a pet cat. Thereupon the people of the town began an unreasoning war of extermination against all cats, the entire feline tribe being held as accursed because of the one that inflicted the bite. As the New Jersey townspeople with cats, so the human race with snakes; because a few reptiles are venomous and deadly, mankind wages war on the entire ophidian species; and harmless and beautiful and graceful and useful creatures are crushed beneath th# heel, victims of an antipathy founded on ignorance and misconception.

Citizen Train’s suggestion as to how murderers should be punished is an excellent one. And, unlike many of his ideas, it appears thoroughly practicable. Instead of executing the taker of human life or consigning him to lifelong idleness in a penitentiary, Citizen Train would sentence him to hard labor for the remainder of his days and bestow the surplus profits of his toil upon the family of the nearest kin of his victim. Thus at one stroke the citizen would abolish the barbarism of capital punishment, compensate to some extent the relatives of the murdered person and really inflict a heavier penalty than death upon the murderer.

According to the census bulletin on educational statistics there were 12,592,721 pupils enrolled in the public schools of the country in 1890 as against 9,951.608 in 1880. This shows an increase during the decade of 26.54 per cent, in the enrollment against 24.86 per cent, increase i» the population, oyer 5,000,000 of which was from immigration. The showing, however, would not have been anything like as flattering but for the phenomenal enrollment in the public schools at the South running all the way from 34.42 per cent, in West Virginia to 133.15 in Texas. In the North the parcchial schools have out down the enrollment in the public schools to a slight decrease in some States.

The Jewish, Alliance, in the plan it has prepared for disposing of the Jewish immigration now pressing on this country, proposes a course more likely than any other to place the Israelites whom it aids in a position where their self-support will be easy and their absorption by tie community complete. Colonies perpetuate race characteristics and breed a tendency to rely on external aid. The more rapidly and completely the immigrant Israelite is placed in contact with the active industrial life which in all the newer parts of this country is transforming new lands into new wealth, the more certain is the transformation of the poor and oppressed Israelite into a citizen as useful and ax prosperous as the members of the Alliance which is extending this beneficent aid on a rational and comprehensive plan.

The Atchison Champion credits Dr. B. G. Culver of that city with the propagation of a vine which he calls the potamato. It grows potatoes under ground, in the usual fashion, and bears tomatoes at the top. This result has been arrived at after a series of experiments lasting through twenty-one years,-and is pronounced to be a success, though the method employed is not stated. It is thought to be hybridizing the seed ball of the potato with the other plant. Of course if each part of the double function of the new plant is performed as productively as are the single ones there is a gain of 100 per cent., and on the principle that “he who makes two ..blades of grass,” etc., the Doctor must be called a benefactor of his species. But that remains to be seen. Such experiments do not always amount to an effective killing of . two birds with one stone.

OLD-TIME POSTMASTERS.

Men Who Have Grown Gray in the Sorvfce of Uncle flam. . , The New York Tribune of recent date made the statement that a movement was on foot to secure a pension

F. O. KEGLEY.

This provoked a denial from the friends of Sidney E. Palmer, who claims to outrank Mr. Purdy about two months as postmaster of the little town of Gerry, Chautauqua County, N. Y., having been appointed July 29, 1841. This would make his term of years as postmaster fifty. As if fifty years were not sufficient length of time for one individual to handle the mails for the public, the fact is established that Ferdinand G. Kelley, who resigned a few weeks ago as postmaster at Centerville, Mass., was appointed in 1839, only a few months previous to the appointment of Woodbridge Clifford as postmaster of North Edgecomb, Me. Messrs. Clifford and Kelley then enthusiastically claimed the distinction of being the oldest postmasters in the country, but it remained for Boswell Beardsley, of North Lansing, N. Y., to leave the field ten years in the rear, for the records establish beyond any doubt that Mr. Beardsley had been postmaster of his borough since June 18, 1829, having been sixty-two years a postmaster, despite the fickleness of political fate. Postmaster Beardsley is too modest to allow himself to be talked about in the newspapers, and has declined to A MWI * V. S' < -

furnish any information as to his political or religious antecedents, any facts regarding his personal appearance or the color of his hirsute adornment.. Postmaster Kelley is 73 years of age, a country

merchant, and has held the offices of Clerk and Treasurer for forty years, being re-elected for twenty-six years without opposition. He has also been justice of the peace since 1843, and director and Vice President of a bank since 1865. In'politics Mr. Kelley is a liberal Republican and in religion a Unitarian.

Postmaster Sidney E. Palmer, of Gerry, N. Y., is 80 years of age, a native American and a merchant. He has been a member of the Legislature and held minor offices. He was in turn a Whig, a Knownothing and a Republican, and voted for the elder Harrison and his grandson. Mr. Palmer is a Universalist in religion, and has been for fifty years. The oldest postmaster in Illinois is Robert Marshall, who was appointed to the office of Maple Grove, in Ed-

ROBERT MARSHALL.

to pool and pay S7O damages, which were claimed by men owning land along the proposed mail route. Mail is received at the office tri-weekly on horseback. “My salary,” writes Mr. Marshall, “does not exceed sl2 to sl6 a year.” Mr. Marshall is a native Englishman, 79 years of age, and in politics was first a Whig and later a Democrat. He is a member of the Christian (Campbellite) Church. Illinois has a few other Postmasters who have seen many years of continuous service. William Hight, of Wetang, Pulaski County, has handled mails since the 6th of December, 1856. Austin James, of Mitchie, Monroe County, outranks Wash H. Morse, of Gilmer, Lake County, about twenty days, both having been appointed in 1859. The oldest postmaster in Michigan is Maurice Topping of Plainfield. He was appointed postmaster by Franklin Pierce April 1, 1853, is a Deomcrat in politics and a fr?e thinker in religion. He seems to be a sort of king among men in his native town, for he has held numerous offices, is a leader in both Masonry and Oddfellowship, manages two grist-mills, a country store and an implement <le"ot The oldest postmaster in Wisconsin is John Diniua K a Democrat, who has reigned coainuously since July 1, 1856, at Pilot Knob. He is 84 years of age and a member of the Methodist Church. He says that his office is very small, and the mod startling events in his long career have beet the arrival, twice a week, of the mails, on horsebick.

David Beck, of Beck’s Mills, Washington County, Indiana, has been postmaster since 1858, and John H. Trueblood of Scranton has served only a year less. In staid old Massachusetts most of the postmasters’ commissions date back to the ’so’s. In Senator Hoar’s

county of Worcester there are four postmasters who have been holding office since the ’4o’s. In this connection it might be remarked that the oldest postmistress in the country holds forth in Senator Hoar's bailiwick. This lady is Miss

Martha E. Stone, of North Oxford, who, blushing for her age, confesses

,for Postmaster Touis Purdy, who is 93 years old and who had held the office at Shrub Oak, N. Y., since 1841. The Tribune claimed for Mr. Purdy the distinction of being ’the oldest postmaster, in years of continuous service, in the country.

JOHN DIMMICK.

wards County, in 1856. His office is a small crossroadsdelivery and furnishes mail to about three dojen families. Mr. Marshall writes that in order to Ssecure the establishment of his office the neighbors were compelled

MAURICK TOPPING.

thirty-four years of official career. Connecticut has a postmaster of the euphonies title of Sam Fuller, who has handed out mail at Mansfield since Sept. 14, 1851. He has a good second with a good old New England name in the person of Alvin Tweed, at North Stamford, who came into the office Dec. 15, 1852. All through New England, from Maine to Rhode Island, with her two dozen offices, we find the same ’political principle of long tenure permeating official life. Matt P. Nichols, at Reed’s Ferry, N. H., reads his title clear to forty-two years’ service as Postmaster. In the States of Indiana and Illinois, where political battles are waged with relentless fervor and where party success seems to depend upon the proper and punctual distribution of spoils, the number of veteran postmasters is necessarily small. There are not to exceed a dozen postmasters in Illinois whose commisions antedate the’Bo’s, while in Indiana the official guillotine seems to have spared very few of the hoary heads to relate the reminiscences with which good old New England so fairly teems. In Gen. Clarkson’s State of lowa there are several postmasters whose commissions date back to the ’6o’s, but they are probably in possession of such insignificant incomes that they have never been the envy of Democrats who reveled in a temporary lease of power a few years ago. In fact, it will be observed that most of the veteran postmasters of the country do not realize incomes which are very tempting, else the material for this article might not have been had.

The Air’s Moisture.

It is not to be wondered at that the ancients regarded water as one of the elements of which all things are composed, for it is a truth demonstrated by modern chemistry that almost all natural objects contain a large proportion of water. Not only the plants' that drink the Summer showers and show by their juicy succulence that they have incorporated the liquid streams into their substance, but the very soil in which these plants grow, amt the solid rocks themselves, contain a large proportion of water. And when we take away from animals, and even from man himself, the water which they contain, the amount of solid residue left behind is surprisingly small. It is true that in all these cases our senses give evidence of the presence of water, and do not require the corroborative testimony of chemical analysis. The moisture adhering to soil and to rocks' the juice of plants and the blood and other fluids present in animals, all evidently acknowledge water as one of their chief constituents, and testify plainly to the presence of this liquid. But if we were to suppose that water is always absent from these substances, which to our senses give no evidence of its presence, we should commit a great mistake. The dry and solid rock consists largely of water; and clay, though baked in the summer sun and dried in the summer breeze, cannot be robbed of all its moisture. AV hen the washerwoman buys fourteen pounds of transparent and apparently perfectly dry soda, she in reality pays for nine pounds of water, and gets but seven pounds of real soda, instead of the fourteen that she supposes she is getting. In short, water is present everywhere—in the dry wood that has for years formed our furniture, and even in the apparently perfectly dry dust that blows about our streets. Even the air, on a dry and sultry day, when everything is parched, and when every breath seems to burn our throats, is charged with moisture. That warm and apparently dry air contains moisture is easily proved. An ice pitcher becomes covered with dew, not because the pitcher sweats through from the inside, as it is said to do, but because the water held in suspension by the hot air, even when apparently dry, contains a considerable amount of moisture. Procure a small quantity of salt of tartar, a cheap drug that may be obtained from any apothecary, and on a dry day lay it on a common plate and expose it to the atmosphere. In a short time it will have attracted from the air an amount of water sufficient to dissolve it, and it will have become converted into an apparently oily liquid, called by the old chemists, who did not fully understand the changes that take place, oil of tartar. The experiment will be more convincing, perhaps, if the salt with its containing vessel—which in this case, however, should be as light as possible—be S laced in the pan of a moderately elicate pair of scales and carefully counter-balanced. In this case the abstraction of the moisture from the air is rendered evident by the gradual increase in the weight of the salt and the descent of the pan in which it is placed. If, then, moisture may be regarded as everywhere present, it becomes a nice point to determine when anything, such, for example, as the air we breathe, our houses, bed, elothes, etc., may be considered damp. To look for perfect dryness would be a vain search*; nor would it do us much good if we could find it. Perfectly dry air would remove the moisture from our bodies so rapidly that we should wither as if smitten with the blast of the simoon. In such an atmosphere our throats would be parched as if in an oven, plants would wither and nature become one universal desert. But on the other hand, air that is too moist, that is to say, air that is really damp, produces effects that are equally disastrous. In such an atmosphere metals rust or corrode, vegetable matters rot, and the growth of fungi, such as mildew, mould, etc., is greatly promoted.— American Engineer.

Eugene Bataille (“Sapeck”), the prince of Parisian wags, recently ended his days in a mad-house at Clermont, where he had been conAned since 1889. After a wild and merry youth as a student of the most approved Bohemian type in the Latin Quarter, he settled down as a lawyer. Once, when he was arrested for causing an obstruction in the public thoroughfare by attracting attention as an extravagantly attired Ottoman, such a demonstration was made in his favor by the youth of the Latin Quarter * that the Prefecture ordered his release.

Quelled the Panic.

•I was in Rochester Monday evening,” said a traveling man to a Utica Observer reporter, “and attended one of the theaters. Between the acts some fool in the gallery yelled ‘ fight,’ and another fool in the dress-circle at once yelled ‘fire.’ There was an instant panic, and had it not been for a dozen cool-headed men and the fact that the orchestra kept right along playing there would have been a terrible scene. As it was several ladies fainted and men and women rushed over the back of the seats to the door as though they were daft. “But there was one incident that I shall never forget as long as I live. A tall gentleman about 50 years of age stepped upon his seat and drew a revolver from his pocket. In a voice that could be heard for some distance around him he said: “ ‘ There is no fire, and I shall be tempted to shoot the first man that tries to rash out of here and possibly trample upon women and children. I mean just what I say, and when the excitement cools down if anybody will point out the miscreant that raised the cry of fire I will give the gentleman SSO for his trouble, and agree to whip the scoundrel who raised the false alarm within five minutes or forfeit another fifty.’ “Then he stood there as quietlv as if nothing had disturbed him, and the people who heard him knew by his looks that he meant business, and would do just what he said. ‘Good for you!’ called a half-dozen voices, and the people in that section sat very quietly during the several minutes of terrible excitement that prevailed all over the crowded house. When order had been restored the gentleman resumed his seat and enjoyed the play.”

Not to Be Taught.

Many a many who has reached the topmost round in his profession finds himself absolutely unable to communicate the secret of greatness to another. William Hunt, the celebrated artist, found it impossible to explain his manner of working so that others could benefit by his experience. One day a lady who painted fruit very successfully obtained an introduction to him for the purpose of asking his advice in regard to her work. She had no doubt that he could formulate some principle, or volunteer such scientific information as would be of use to her. To her astonishment, Mr. Hunt told her that .he cduld do nothing of the kind, adding quaintly: “The only thing you can do is to fudge it out.” She then asked if he knew Mr. a successful artist. “To be sure I do,” said he. “Of course I do. Well, he has fudged it out. We must all fudge it out. There is no other way than fudging it out.” ° He well knew the process of such independent effort, for he was one of the men who, while their compani >ns slept, Were toiling upward in the night. His own patience was almost boundless,. and it would never have occurred to. him that any lover of good work might shrink from doing even a bit of seemingly unimportant detail over and over again.— Youth’s Companion.

The Boss of Bad Axe.

A Detroit drummer was standing in front of a store in Bad Axe one day last weeK, talking with the proprietor, when a fairly respectable-looking man passed along on the other side of the street. “Do you see that man over there ?” asked the merchant. “Yes; what of him?” “Well, he used to be the Grand Mogul of this whole town; bossed everybody and everything, and had it all his own way.” “And doesn’t he any more?” inquired the drummer. “Not much, he doesn’t." “What’s the matter? Lost his money ?” “No." “Downed politically ?” “No.” “Moral catastrophe?” “No.” “Well, what in thunder’s the matter ?” “Got married about two years ago. See that tall ganglin’ woman crossin’ the street to meet him? That’s her,” and the merchant drew a long breath with a whistle to it.— Free Press.

A Czar Hotelkeeper.

The most autocratic hotelkeeper in the world is in Orland, Colusa County. I was preparing to go out one night, when he said to me: “Be back before 9 o’clock.” “Why?” I asked. “Because, I go to bed at that time, and if you are not back you won’t get in, that’s all.” “Give me my key,” I said. “I won’t stop in such a hotel.” “Oh, ho,! you won’t, won’t you? Where else are you going ? There is no other hotel in this here town, no other stable and no other store. You can’t buck agin me. You be back, now by 8:30 p. m.” I looked at the old brute, and concluded I had better stay. I sat down and he came around and affably questioned me. “Look here,” I said, “I have to stay in your hotel, but I don’t want to be bothered with you. So keep your questions to yourself.” “I’ve half a mind to tell you to leave. Can’t I speak to a man in my own house?”— St. Louis Globe-Democrat.

Lady Macdonald, the widow of the Canadian Premier, will hereafter be known as the Countess Earnscliffe, her title having its source in her late husband’s handsome country-seat. The Countess is thoroughly posted in the politics of the Dominion, and it has been due as much to her tact, wit, and accomplishments as to her position that she has been the leader of society in the Canadian capital. “That man has more cheek than any one I know. ” “Well, that isn’t strange. He sleeps on a brass bedstead everv night,” ... .

CHILDREN’S COLUMN.

A DEPARTMENT FOR LITTLE BOYS AND GIRLS. Something that Will Interest the Juvenile Members of Every Household Quaint Actions and Eright Sayings of Cute Children. Wanted—A Dlttle Girl. Where have they gone to, the little girls, With natural manners and natural curls? Who love their dolls and like their toys. And talk of something besides the boys? Little old women in plenty I find, Mature in manners and old of mind, Little old flirts who talk of their “beaus,” And vie with each other In stylish clothes. Little old belles, who at nine and ten Are sick of pleasure and tired of men, Weary of travel, of balls, of fun— And find no new thing under the sun. Once, Jn the beautiful long ago, Some dear little children I used to know—• Girls who were merry lambs at play. And laughed and rollicked the livelong day. They thought not at all of the “style” of their clothes; They never imagined that the boys were “beaus;” “Other girls’ brothers” and mates were they; Splendid fellows to help them play. Where have they gone to? If you see One of them anywhere send her to me; I would give a medal of purest gold To ono of these dear little girls of old.. With an innocent heart and open smile, Who knows not the meaning of “flirt” and “style.” —Ella Wheeler Wileox. Frightened by a Pumpk'n. Harry Wilson lived with his father and mother on a farm, and being a country boy was a brave little fellow. So, one evening, when his mother asked him to go over to a neighbor's house on an errand for her, he started off cheerfully, although it was neatly sundown. Harry was kept longer than he expected, and did not home until after dark. Then shadows in the fence corners and the bushes along the country road looked queer in the starlight, and the stillness was apt to make one nervous. But Harry whistled merrily as he trudged along, and looked straight ahead toward his home. When he had gone Kbout half way he chanced to look over into a field on one side of the road. There he saw among the young corn, which was just shooting up above the ground, a figure that looked very much like the giants which the fairy books tell about. It had a

great, big head, with wide eyes like Obals of fire, and a terrible square mouth that seemed to be eating fire. How Harry did run toward his home I When he got there he was trembling like a leaf, and told his father he had seen a “bug-a-boo.” Mr. Wilson said there was no such thing as a “bug-a-boo.” He went back with Harry, whose little legs shook with fright as he followed his father over into the cornfield. “What is it father?” Harry asked when they got nearly up to the “bug-a-boo.” “It’s only a ‘jack-o’-lantern,’” said Mr. Wilson, and he laughed heartily at Harry’s fright. Harry found that the“jack-o’-lantern" was a large pumpkin which had been hollowed out, and eyes, nose and mouth cut in the rind. A lighted caudle stuck inside of it shone through them and made them look like fire a short distance away. The neighbors’ boys had made it and stuck it up on the top of a “scare-crow” which had been put in the field to keep the crows from stealing the young corn. The boys were very sorry when they heard how Harry had been frightened by it; but Harry said he was glad, because it taught him never to ran from anything without knowing what it was.— G. Kettlewell, in Our Little Ones.

A Reasonable Request.

“You will have to give me another room, I guess,” said a congressman to the hotel clerk. “What’s the matter—aren’t you comfortable where you are ?” “Well, not exactly. That German musician in the next room and I don’t get along well. Last night he tooted away on his clarionet so that I thought I never would get to sleep. After I had caught a few winks I was awakened by a pounding at my door. ‘What’s the matter ?’ I asked. ‘Of you please,’ said the German, ‘dot you vould schnore of der same kep. You vas go from B flat to G, und it schpoils der moosic.’”— Boston Journal. Dr. Ethelbebt Talbot, who has just been elected Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia, made a remarkably successful record as Missionary Bishop of Wyoming. He says that when he visits a new town in which hft desires to start religious services, he generally makes for the largest saloon the first thing, as he is pretty sure of being able “to round up most of the boys” there. With breezy unconventionality he announces that he is. a parson, and asks some “gentleman” to aid him in arranging for a service. He never appeals in vain, and there is no one to-day more universally beloved by the rough frontiersmen of Wyoming than Bishop Talbot.-