Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 March 1892 — Page 5

pnurnor for this runt.] WINTER. Drear Winter cometh forth again. Sternest Uhe of stern-brow'd kings; And ’neath his tread, despoiled and bare, Lie Summer’s beauteous things. Snow-crown'd are brows of pleasant hills— Brows wreathed just now with emerald light; Ice-bound are leaping, laughing rills, Fast in his grasp of might. dread bis presence as lie strides O’er bill and dale, iu robes of mist, Or when be in cloud chariot riJes With storm winds iu his fist,. For when his footsteps are abroad, The sunbeams falter from his w»ke. And roughly irom his ice-fringed robes The breath of flower- he slink s. He stalks into the forest groves, All filled just now with life and light, But .when fair Nature acrs bis tread She girds herself for flight; And hides her tweet and beauteous face From the harsh tyrant, pale and cold. And weeps in sad -and ta led grace For sunlit days of old. But little heeds he tears. Relentless warrior, rough and grim, Heeds not dead ft nee in on lowly biers. Or hush of forestlliynvn; Nor grieves to see the kiticly oak Stripped of bis glory and hi crown, But. mid the mins of .dead, joys He builds his ceuei throne. And oh, how desolate.appears | The once fair realm where lie hold* sway, Where things>of beauty and ofdim Once lived u royal day! •And tall, strong trte< iu glory sto d. With loving leafy arm * entwined. And music made of -song bird-’ notes,' 1 Lay in the branches shrined. But now th§ eoeg birds rtlftieve flown, And withered arms hangrent, in twain, Like hallow’d friendships loughly hewn, Which ne’er may bloom ago n. And through the st- ipped nn rag ed Doughs The winds keep a pe petual mouii, While mid tlie dreary solitudes He bolds weird court alone. •Yet soon shall end the despot e-sway, Low lie his sceptre and his--crown. And spring’s war m sunbeams on their way Shall melt his ice-built throne. ■E’en now mid forest avenues. A feather’d warbler sits and sings His melancholy requiem, And welcome to the spring. O-soul-of mine, has winter’s touch Frozen tby life lount, iu its p uy? And have the flowers and songs of life Died out with sumnier’s day? * And through thy avenues all drear, Do wither’d hopes like leaves be s rewn? And 'mid the ruin of dead joys, Has winteFreared its throne? Yet hearken, for an angel sings To thee a song of joyous note: Arise! and to thy spirit’s depths Its melody shall float. Oh spirit tried, yet God beloved, Thy lohg, drear winter takoth wing. And through thy be ng there shall flow The new, glad life of spring. —fM. Annie Foskott.

A GOLDEN ALLY..

Mr.. Samuel Slickens walked down the main street of Aberdeen one morning with downcast mien; Perhaps he was -studying the probable durability of his shoes, for his mind was occupied with ways and means. ltis said that the stomach influences 'the brain. If so, Ijjtle wonder was there in his case that his thoughts were serious. He had had no breakfust; his regimen the.day before had comprised a few greasy potato chips. “There ought to be some one who would go at least a soup ticket on me,” he murmured; but even as he did, a long line of forbidding faces answered, “No one.’’ And yet there were .few young men on •the street of finer appearance than Samuel Slickens, few .indeed of a more harmless and amiable disposition. He was one of those unfortunates of whom his friends say, with a shrug, “He jg his own worst enemy,” and find this a precedent for their own treatment of him. It had not been always thus, however. When he first came to Aberdeen, after graduating from the lawTgchool, he was regarded as the possessor of uii'bouudod possibilities. Up was an orphan. He had inherited a snug fortune, which fame had made snugger; he had a bright eye, a winsome -smile, an .engaging manner. Who was there -so apt of anecdote, so quick at repartee, so tuneful of voice, as he? To know Sam Slickens was a .distinction, to visit at his rooms an event. One, two, three, four, the yearß had glided away, and at the beginning of each Sam had regrets ully said. “I wish I were as well off as I was twelve months ago,” and then had thought no more about it. But Forlunatus without his purse is Fortunatus no longer, so now tods friends agreed that it was a wonder that he had kept going so loDg. Perhaps it was, but no such foreboding had troubled them over his dinners and cigars. This walk down strpet on this particular morning was chiefly induced by habit, for his extensive law offices were now confined to his hat; his elegant apartments for a week and more had been within one one of the city’s parks. It was a lonely walk, too, interrupted by no hearty greeting or vigorous slap upon the back. For some reasons his friends preferred the other side of the street, and their gaze wub concentrated upon the architectural beauties of the buildings that lined it “I swear!” resolved Sam, “I’ll call upon Campbell. He’s a crank, so he’s sure to differ from all the others.” Now, Lionel Campbell was an unpleasant enigma to the average citizen, who could not understand exclusiveness towards his affable self. His wealth re- * quired millions to calculate, and engross his entire attention. Since he minded his business, and barely vouchsafed a surly nod to the gilded youth whom he might meet, he was popularly voted “the meanest man.” His father had left his son the gross results of a lifetime of thrift and energy, less the pittance which bare existence had cost him. People said that in Lionel his subtlety and avarice were intensified. In reality they knew little about him, for he had led the life of a recluse, and returned with interest the dislike which he engendered. Sam entered the vast general office, filled with clerks busied with the affairs of the Campbell estate, and diffidently gave his name to an usher. "I'll take it in,” this functionary said, dubiously, “but it’s no u*e I .reckon. They vondar be waltibg to see him; ” and be designated with his finger a portly group, among whom Sam recognized a railway magnet, an Insurance president,

a promoter of national reputation, and thepaßtor of the United Presbyterian Church; but to hie surprise Mr. Camje. bell returned word that he would see Mr. Slickens immediately. As Sam passed this group they all bowed respectfully, an amenity which they had neglected upon his entrance. When he was enclosed within the handsome private office Campbell grasped him cordially by the hand. “Hallo, Sam! ”he cried. “Glad to see you. This is something like old times at Harvard! Why have you kept away so long?” Now Sam did not care to give his reason—which had been a careless acquiescence with the popular judgment —so he feebly said that ne didn’t know. “Well, I qua guess,” replied Campbell. ■‘■‘You always float with the tide. You’ve gotten among the breakers, too, I hear, and no life-boat has put out for you.” “No,” said Sam, with a faint smile. “My friends are all too busy. One has married a wife, another has purchased a yoke of -oxen, don’t you know? ” “Ob, yes, I know. I could have weighed them all for you long ago in a two-penny balance. Now, I needn’t ask you what you wamt. You are hard up. How much, old fellow, how much? “l.am hungry.” “Now, look here, Sam. This sort of thing -won’t do.\ You did me many a favor at Ynrvard with your aptitude for 'Greek and Calculus, though you've forgotten all about it by this tine, I suppose; but I don’t forget. I would give you half my income willingly, but it wouldn't benefit you, you are sodeucedly impraticable; besides, you don’t want to be u dependent, do you ? ” “Indeed, I don’t. I tell you I’m hungry.” “You want to rehabilitate yourself, now.don’t you? You wantto be respected in this' blessed burgh, and have your fellow-citizens speak of you as our promising young townsman?” “1 want something to eat worst of all; but of course 1 do.”

“Well, look here. I'm a philosopher, and I have my theories of life. I’d like to exploit one, if you’ve uo objection. Follow my advice and I’ll make an orthodox model of you. Here’s five hundred dollars. 1 lend this to you for three mouths, ou interest, mind. Go and appease that yearning stomach. Buy new clothes and shoes first of all, hire your old apartments and offices, then come to me to-morrow morning. By this time my theory will bo formulated and ready for practice. Good-day.” Main rushed from top to bottom of a neighboring restaurant’s bill-of-fare. The next morning he called upon the young millionaire, and was ushered at once into his presence. “Just look over this package,” said Campbell, carelessly. Sain gingerly fingered the crisp contents. “Fifty one-thousand-dollar bills!” he gasped. “I thought so. That’s right. Now I’ll explain what you aro to do. Have you a bank account?” “I had one.” “Well, go to the bank and deposit these bills to your credit. Do it in the most .matter-of-fact way. Make no explanations, answer no impertinent questions. Let it stay there. Live on the five hundred dollars, stick conscientiously to your office, and six months will settle the business, I wager.” “But ” began Sam. “There is no but. I don’t give you one cent of it; I expect it back when I ask for it. You are trustworthy, aren’t you? Why, of course. Now do as Isay.” And Sam, nervously buttoning his coat over the precious bundle, hastened away as if each shadow were a lurking robber.

He went straightway to the Lockit Bank. Jts he entered, the bookkeeper called sharply to him: “Mr. Slickens, your account is overdrawn sixty-nine cents. The president wished me to direct your particular attention to it. ” “Very well,” replied Sam. “I’m just going to make a deposit.” The clerk rolled his tongue in his cheek and winked toward his admiring associates. Sam made out his deposit-slip with the deliberation of a oapita.ist, and then handed the book and the money to the teller. “Well, I’ll be blanked!” muttered the sarprised official as he wet his fingers thrice in his count. “Did you speak?” questioned Sam, severely. “0h,.n0, sir; not at all.” “4re you quite sure?” “1 beg pardon, sir, but I just rubbed my favorite corn; it's enough to make a cherub swear. Will you draw against .this to-day, sir?” “Oh, no; it’s not necessary.” “\4ery good, sir. Good morning, sir. But, beg pardon, by the way, wouldn’t you like to step behind and see our new time-lock? It’s really wonderful.” “Not now, young man, I’m busy,” said Sam, grandly, as he walked toward the door. On the porch he met Mr. Cashleigh, the bank president, entering. That digmitary looked upon him with an unfriendly eye. “Morning,” he grunted in reply to Sam's polite salutation. “Old Bricks and Mortar will never weaken,” mused Sam, as he sauntered toward the office. “Poor Agnes! Poor me! There is no hope in that quarter.” NvT/ the Agnes to whom he referred was the only daughter of Mr. Cashleigh. He had formed her acquaintance three years before through these somewhat unusual circumstances. It was one blustering day that Sam had strutted up Main street with all the importance that weighty legal business demands. He was, fn fact, going to get shaved, but why advertise it? He gazed upon houses and wayfarers, and scorned to see the homes and the persons of future clients. But a little distance ahead of him there tripped a dainty figure that soon con- s centrated wandering eyes and thoughts. Surely, if outlines void the truth, this young girl embodied a poet’s dream of grace. She was richly clad in aark-gray vesture, and she sheltered herself from the eager sunrays with a large, heavilyfringed parasol. Anticipations assured Sam that her face was lovely; he hastened his steps to realize them. Down the street there was approaching a conveyance know to its owner and his admiring friends as “a right slick I* was drawn by a higb-step-ping, rat-tailed nog. Underneath the rear axle ambled a bandy-legged bulldog. The driver sat upon his lofty seat in all the glory of a Sunday suit and the most precious heirloom of his race, a fuzzy “beaver," which the event of coming to “teowu” had caused him to don. He was a young man, of ungainly figure and mammoth hands, upon whose venation face self-consciousnese and its resulting irritability could plainly be read. Perhaps he thought that he would make an impression; for as he drew near he reined his Pegasus into a walk. Alee!

the impression was made, but not by him. A gust of wind swept wound the corner. It whirled the parasol from the young Indy’s grasp; it sent it hurtling through the air like a missile from a catapult. It struck the venerable hat with its lance-like point; it spitted it, and dashed it prone in the dust. “Geewhitnker!” snarled the driver ns be leaped from his perch to rescue this precious memento of grandfather. “I wudn’t hev hed thot happen for a gud deal.” He recovered possession; but he recovered a wreck, rent and ruined, unfit for future descendants. He turned toward the helpless maiden in a rage. “Gol darn ye!” he shouted. “Ye did thet a purpose. I’ll hev the law on ye. You jest cum along with me to the ’squire.” “Don’t lay a finger on that lady,” said Sam, coming up at this critical moment. “Who’s to pervent, tbet’s what I wanter know? D’ye think I’m agoin’ to hev my valluble property spiled by any sech” Whang! Sam struck with such effect that the speaker stumbled baok. over his dog and rolled with him iu a disorderly mass through the muok. “Come!” cried Sam. He half lifted the bewildered young lady in * the “slick buggy,” ho whipped up the rat-tailed nag. Away they sped down the street. In their hasty passage to her home he learned that her name wus Agnes Cashleigh; he also learned that .she had, for him, the most beautiful face, the most charming manner in the world. The adventure caused a certain sensation. The driver of the buggy threatened arrest. He began five distinct suits for damages—to his hat, his horse, his buggy i his dog, and himself! The first three were against Mr. Cashleigh, the others against Sam. But they served no other purpose than to awaken a general laugh and to deepen this acquaintance into intimacy. They loved, the more readily, perhaps, since circumstances were so forbidding. For the stouter Sam’s affections grew, the Blimmer grew his purse. But they hoped; that is to say, they unwittingly courted disappointment. When Father Cashleigh perceived the situation he did what irate parents seem to consider a mighty achievement, though babies ucquire it; he put his foot down. He informed Sam that his absence would be deemed his most delectable quality. He sent his daughter incontinently to boarding-school. So no wonder it was that Sam murmured ■‘■‘Poor Agnes! Poor me! ” He now entered his office and strove to impart an air es business to it. He spread his few books with open pages upon the desk; h« bound together folds of blank paper with pink tape, and indorsed them with titles of supposititious cases; he thrust a quill over his loft ear and soaked his right forefinger iu the ink.

While he was thus laudably engaged the door opened and the bank messenger came in; he who erstwhile would present an impossible draft fb him with such haughty mien- He doffed his hat, he bowed low. “From President Cashleigh,” he said, proffering a bulky package. He withdraw amid the throes ot a salaam. Sum examined the bundle. It contained several legal documents and a note, with an inclosure, —ah, unusual inclosure! The missive read as follows: “Mt Dear Sir: — l beg t > send herewith papeisin the -uit -of the Shakem Hallway Company against the Lockit Bank, which I desiie you to defend. I enclose cheque for $260 leiainiog lee. Trusting that your engagements may yield us your va u i ble services, Very rtspectfully yours, Caleb Cashleigh. “P B.—Drop around to the house, my boy, some d v this week in a friendly way. Agnes returns to-morrow. C. C.” Sam stayed within his office until late that night, working upon the case until the widespread books, the' thoughtful quill, the inked fingers were an unconscious reality. When he returned to his rooms the floor seemed covered with drifted snow; it was bestrewn with visiting cards. All his old friends had called. “So sorry,old fellow,to miss you.” “Be at the club to-morrow night.” “ Sister is anxious to see you.” “ Can you lend me a twenty until Saturday? ” were a few of the indorsements, Sam carefully tore them into shreds. The succeeding weeks always seemed hereafter to Sam like the pleasant stages of a dream of good fortune. Social and professional demands were constantly made upon him. The former, with a single exception, he ignored; the latter he assiduously accepted. He worked as he had never worked before, and perhaps his success was due more to his industry than to Campbell’s talisman; but that us least gave him the opportunity; he was wise enough to improve it. The most extravagant stories were widespread about him. He was the sole heir of a millionaire uncle recently deceased in Englund. He had drawn the principal prize in a lottery. He owned a gold mine in Mexico. He had written a novel. Alas! has vain imagining no bounds? But ho preserved a discreet silence and wooed Themis untiringly. Nor were all his pains lavished upon that frigid virgin. He called upon the Cashleighs, yes, again and again, and they received him ns if he were a longlost son returning in honor. As for pretty Agnes, delight overwhelmed surprise. He whom she so fondly loved had come back to her. She was content. How it had happened she cared not a whit; for of course be could do everything. His practice speedily increased from nothingness into mammoth proportions. He was especially consulted regarding investments, and in this way found fertile fields for the results of his industry. The fifty tbousmid dollars still remained on deposit; but this no longer was a conspicuous sum, for it had plenty of company. He called upon his friend Campbell, and explained the pleasant situation to him. “ Return ten thousand dollars a month to me,” he directed. At the expiration of six months Sam had repaid the full amount,and still had at the bank a balance to his credit that required more than four figures to express it. He was counsel for nearly all tha-business corporations of Aberdeen. His tin box was filled with crisp shares and debentures. His engagement with Agnes had been announced; their marriage was the anticipation of society. Filled with gratitude and delight, he sought the on* whose faith and shrewdness had saved him, and begged him to act as his best man. “Oh, yes,” replied Campbell, “I’ll be there; it will i muso me. There are nice people in'Aberdeen, aren’t there? They will dance as readily at your bridal as they would have jumped UDon your grave.”—[Frank Leslie’s.

ADJUSTING THE PHRASEOLOGY.

“Yonr bill,” said the tailor, “is overdue.” . “That’s bad English,” replied the customer; “you should say over dun.”

THE JOKER’S BUDGET.

JESTS AND YARNS BY FUNNY MEN OP THE PRESS. Unaccountable Delay—She Felt Relieved—A Sliding Scale— Then and Now—No Flies, Etc., Etc. UNACCOUNTABLE DELAY. In the da} r s when the stage was still the prevailing modo of travel in the West, a traveler one day grew inoensed at the slow progress made by the vehicle iu which he was a passenger. Remonstrating with the stage-driver, ho said: “What’s the matter with tho team this trip? We’re going as slow as a New England prayer-meeting. I was over this route ten years ago, and we went fast enough then.” t “We do seem to be gittin’ a loetle less hump on oursel’s than we did then, fur a fac’, pard," said the (driver; “but the why of it heats me. These here’s the identical broncos we had then.”—[Harper’s Magazine. SHE FELT RELIEVED. He—Will you marry me? Your answer, quiok! She (as he makes a motion to take something out of his vest-pocket)—Oh, don’t, don’t, Fred! I will marry you, but don’t, don’t. He—Don’t what? I was simply reaching for the engagement ring. She (relieved) —-Oh, I thought—l was afraid it was a dynamite bomb.—[Boston News. A SLIDING SCALE. “Tommy,” said the employer, one chilly morning, “I wish you to regulate the heat so that the mercury iu the thermometer shall stay around seventy degrees.” “I suppose,” said Tommy, “that seventy degrees will do for this kind of weather, but when it gets colder wo’ll need the mercury higher.”—[Philadelphia Times. THEN AND NOW. When mother held the little chap And sang to him a tune At night, while he sat on her lap, He cried to got the moon. Now more than half a century lies Between him and his birth; No more to get the moon he cries, To-day lie wants tho earth. —[New York Press. THE ROAD TO RICHES. Ponsonby—That man yonder came to America two years ago. He was a poor watchmaker; ho went West and-opened a little store. He is now worth three millions. Popinjay—Thought there was no money in the business. Ponsonby—There isn’t. He mawied an heiress?—[Jewelers’ Circulur. NO FLIES. A mermaid in the darkness deep, Wa. ged her slippery tail with glee, And w rbledthus, in liquid tones, “Thoreuro no flics on mo.” —[New York Herald. AN HONEST EFFORT. “John,” said the minister’s wife, “how many more times are you going to recite that sermon of yours ? ” “Don’t bother mb, my dear, if you please,” ho returned. “I am prantising what I preach.”—[New York Sun. FISHED FOR A COMPLIMENT. Alice (looking at her portrait)—Don’t you think that Van Brush bus managed to make rather a pretty picture of me ? Edith—Yos; he really has—what a remarkably clever artis he is. A BACK HAND COMPLIMENT. “Yes,” said Miss May True, iu n conversation with Chappie, “I can remember things that happened when 1 was a wee, wee girl.” Then Chappie, wishing to pay her a compliment, said: “You must have an excellent memory, for that must have been many, many years ago.” THROUGH THE REGULAR CHANNELS. Manager—The latest general order say* we should economize in ovejy possible way. Hereafter you must pick up all the waste papor and send it to me. Chief Clerk—ls I must do this extra work I want a raiso of salary. Manager—All right; put your application in with the waste paper.—[Telegraph Age.

ARMEDTOR THE FRAY. A tramp applied to a lady for work and was given some carpets to lveat. Ho did the job so well that she commended him for it. "You must have beaten carpets frequently to be such an expert,” she said. “Never beat a carpet before in my life, lady; I’ve alius teachod school,” ho auswered promptly.—[Detroit Free Press. • CONSISTENT IX HER TASTES. Fangio—lt seems to me very strange that Mrs. McJunkin should lavish so much affection on that homoly pug dog. Cumso—Not at all. You ought to soo her husband.—[Epoch. FATHER TO THE MAN. Georgio Gazzam (aged five) —Let me tell you the latest smart thing my father said. Benny Bloombumper (aged four and a half)—Thanks, no; I’m tired. I have a smart father myself.—[Brooklyn Life. rapid growth. “This town seems to be making great Kess,” said a visitor to a resident of ville, Oklahoma. “ You are jist right, stranger. Why, we’ve had to enlarge the jail twice.”— [Epoch. appearancf.s against him. Office Boy—There is a man outside who says he has a play he wunts you to read. Manager —How is he dressed ? Office Boy—Oh, he is “ out of sight ” —silk hat, patent leathers and boxcoat. Manager—Tell him I’m not in; he must be an amateur. —[Clothier and Furnisher. any port. Ethel—l made George promise last night to spend our honeymoon at Newport. Maud — That will do as well as any place; any port in a storm, you know. Nils SKELETON. Featherstone—Do you believe in ghosts? Tracers—Well, for years I have been living in a haunted house. Featherstone —You don’t tell me? Who U It haunted by? Travers—By my tailor. [Clothier and Furnisher.

NO TIME FOR TRIFLES.

Mr. Bllynns—What kind of a girl is this that John it courting? Mrs. Bilvuns—Sho is very handsome. Mr. B. —Is sho what they call cultured and cultivated and all that? Mrs. B. —Why, no, sho hasn’t time for culture or cultivation. She is in society you know.—[Now York Press. HE TOOK HER UNAWARES. Harry —Miss Nettings—Carrie, what would you say if I should ask your hand in murriago? Carrie—How absurd of you, Mr. Spooks; how can 1 tell what I should do until asked such a question. Harry—But may I ask you? Carrie —It is not in my power to control your askings, Mr. Spooks. Harry—Carrie, will you be my wife? Carrie—Roally, Harry, this is so sudden.—[Boston Trauscript. SOMETHING WK DON'T DRAG ABOUT. Englishman (grumpily) —There is one thing that I’ll buy up as a curiosity if I cun hnd it in your blawsted country. American —What is it? Englishman —Something that you do not boast about. American Just go and secure all our Anglomaniacs. —[Now York Sun. NOT so BAD. He—Ethel’s face has haunted me ever since I first saw her. She —I do not oonsider her face handsome myself, but I think your remark is unnecessarily cruel. THE GREATEST LOTTERY, “ Did you ever take part in a game of chance, Mr. Satton ?” “Well—l’m married, you know.”— [St. Joseph News. AN APT RETORT. Optimus —You can rely upon Frankleigh. He always'keeps his word. Cynicus —Ah, because nobody will take it. ONE OP THE GENUINE BREED. “That dog is one of our famous Maryland breed.” “Yes. I recognised his Chesapeake bay last night.” —[Baltimore American. HIS LINE. Suoker— What is your particular line, stranger? Sharper—Woll, I’m in the fish lino just at presont. SATISFACTORY. Peck (the grocer)—So you want a job in the store, do you? Freddy Gazzam —Yes, sir. “Do you know anything about arithmetic ? ” “Yes, sir.” “How much would ten pounds of sugar come to at four and a half conta a pound ? ” “Fifty cents, sir.” “I think you’ll do.”—[Epoch. GOING PREPARED. (Mamma explaining to her little girl, aged 5, that everything she does and s iys is written down in a lurge book in heaven.) L. G. asks—And all the naughty things too? Mamma—Yes, doar. L. G. (pensively)—Then I think I'll take a piece of india-rubber with me.— [London Truth. PARTIAL APPROVAL. Ethel (showing her engagement ring)—• Don’t you udinire his taste ? Maud —Ye-es, as far as jovvelry Is concerned.

Winter Houses of the Eskimos.

The igloos, or winter stono huts, were not far from the summer tupiks. They were built upon the hill-sido, a portion of which is dug out to form the interior, 'fc'he domed roofs wero made of largo pieces of flat sandstone, curofuily arranged and hold in place by pieces of bono. These protruded somewhat into the hut, and wero utilized us hooks upon which hung harpoon linos, pouches of seal and bird skin, skin drinking-cups, bonedrilis, etc. At the back of the hut was a platform raised about a foot from the floor. Opposite this, which nerved as the bed, was the opening of a tunnel six or eight feet long through which the family must crawl to enter their abode; and here the dogs find shelter during the utoims of winter. The tunnel slopes down from tho floor, so that water from the melting snows of spring may not run into tho house. Over the inner entrance of the tunnel, about four foet square, is another opening of about the same dimensions, which allows light to enter the dwelling. This hole is closed in winter by having stretched soaked in oil. At Herbert Island, sevoral of the igloos were double, that is, two igloos were built close together, each with a separate tunnel, but the dividing, inside, partition was loft incomplete.—[Scribner.

A Solid Fog.

The doleterious influence of fogs may be estimated from some results obtained from examination and analysis last month at Kew Gardens,London, England. The director speuks of tho leaves as being covered with a substance liko brown paint—“tarry hydrocarbon - ’ —which can only be scraped otf with a knife. On analysis this shows ovor fifty-one per cent of carbon and hydrocarbon, with forty-one per oent of metallio iron, magnotic oxido of iron, and minoral water. Any ono at all aoquainted with the physiology of plants and animals can apprehend in a monent how such a mixture must afleqt both the lungs of man and the leaves —which are the lungs—of plants, as regards respiration. Strangely enough, the deposit appoured to be more marked at Kew than at Chelsea.—[The Young Man.

Armed Against Starvation.

The London Pall Mall Gazette says that while Lord Randolph Churchill was traveling through Mashonaland, in South Africa, recently, he took the precaution of providing himself and his party with somebody’s “Essence of Lite.” This substance “warranted to sustain an adult for one month,” was taken in order to lessen the chances of starvation through being lost in the bush. It resembles a •mall cake of soap, and one is supposed to liok it—as a mule licks rock salt—three times a day. Lord ltandolpk himself, with characteristic sagacity, carries three * cakes. This “essence” is the secret preparation of a professional faster; ana although it does not appear to be very filling, is said to answer its purpose ndmir-

Blood orange and primrose are the names of two fashionable shades in gloves, both in Suede un i glace kid.

ASPLHATUM.

A PECULIAR MINERAL AND ITS USES. Asphaltum Was Formed Through Some Tremendous Convulsion of Nature—lt is Utilized In Many Ways. Among the minerals peculiar to this State, and which is destined to provo an almost unlimited source of wealth, is asphaltum. This is found in large quantities in Ventura, Santa Barbara, •Korn and Los Angelos Counties, and the deposits already known to exist there aro the most extensive in the world, while new discoveries are constantly being made. It is found in both liquid and crystallized form, and also in the shape of bitumon-impregnated roo!t or sand. There are many springs iu the localities mentioned from which there is a constant flow of the liquid asphaltum, made so by the presence of petvoloum. In other cases groat ledges or masses of the crystallized product aro found. Some of these take on the character of what might be called true fissure veins. It would appear that some tremendous convulsion of nature had occurred in the remote past by which the surfaoo hnd been cracked and riven in every direction, and into the fissures thus created a subterranean power had forced the liquid asphaltum from its source beneath. Ages of tremendous pressure have expelled every partiole of volatile substance, and the result is tho existence of vein* of crystallized asphaltum which are praotioally free from any extraneous substanco and are of tho highest value. In many oases these veins have, in tho course ot time, boon oovorod over with a coating of earth or gravel of greater or less depth and only the practiced eye of the export oan detect their existence from certain surfaoe indications that tho tyro would puss unheeded. Somo most remarkable deposits of this character hsvo been discovered in Northorn Santa Barbara and in Kern county, tho produot of which, in its natural state, is far purer than tho rofiued produot of tho only other extensive asphalt deposit in the world—that of Trinidad island, in tho West Indies. None except, those who have investigated the subject has a correct conception of the variety of usos to which asphaltum and its products may bo put. For that mutter its various industrial usos aro only just, being learned by experts, und new dlsoovcrles of its adaptability are being made continually. To say that tno wide range from street pavements to chewing gum is covered Is to state only u literal fact, The horses of Sun Francisco tread beneath their feet exactly tho sumo substance that the school-girls and oven their elders masticate between their more or loss pearly tooth. In other words, the bulk of the chewing gain now consumed is nothing more nor loss than a bye-product of asphaltum, appropriately flavored and coloi ed.

Another use for asplmltum has boon found.iu tho manufacture ot waterproof tarpaulin cloth, which, by the way, is the Invcn.ion of a resident of this city. Two sheets of a course grade of cotton goods have a thin layer of asphaltum spread between them und by pressure the compound is made one homogeneous whole. Tho product is a heavy waterproof sheeting. far cheaper than uuyiiow in use, and answering every purpose. Suoh a material will be a grout boon to farmers of the East uud of Europe, where it is frequently necessary to protect partially harvested crops, stacks of grain and hay, etc., from the rain.

Still another use for asplmltum has been found iu the preparation of a fuel by combining tho liquid material with coal dust. In tho coul-ininiiig regions of Pennsylvania and othur Eastern States are literally millions of tons of oulrn, as it is catted, for which no use has ever been found. There are mountains of this finely-powdered coal at tho mouths of every anthracite coal pit, and ingenuity bus exhausted itself in the vain effort to hit upon some device by which it may be turned to commercial account. Not until tho valuable properties of the asphalt deposits of California became partially understood was any solutiou of the difficulty reached. It has now been demonstrated, however, that by an admixture of about 0 per oent. of liquid asphaltum this oulm may be moulded into briquettes of any desired size, which makos a most admirable fuel. Tho small percentage of asplmltum, which Is of a combustible character, is just sufficient to add largely to the desirable qualities of these oulm briquettes for generating steam or warmth, and tests made have boon highly satisfactory. As already stated, there are millions of tons of this rofuso which can bo turned to account at small cost, and it is evident that in its utilization through tho uso of asphaltum is a most inviting field for enterprise. For uudorgrounl pipes or conduits the uso of asphaltum has been found most advantageous. Nearly all water pipos now laid on this coast are required io be previously dipped in liquid asphaltum, which operates as a preservative from tho action of moisture or of chemical agents. Pipes carrying water for domestic use are lined with a coating of the same material, yot no hint of that fact could possibly be obtained cither from the taste or odor of tho water.

As an underground conduit for carrying electric wires so great an authority as Thomas Edison Ims pronounced emphatically in favor of pipes made of asphaltum, which, lie states, is one of tho b st non-conductors that can be found. As the movement for the removal of all overhea»electric wires is rapidly spreading, it oan be seen that this fact will have an important bearing upon the asphaltum interest of California. The utilization of asphaltum in the laying of street pavements is familiar to all, but few realize tho vast extent to which it is carried. Hundreds of thousands of tons are used in this country alono each year, and nine-tenths of it comes from Trinidad. The amount so used is increasing constantly. The extent and exceptional purity of the deposits in this State are scarcely known beyond our boundaries and the operators of the West Indian deposit appear to have almost a monopoly of the market. But thic /tato of affairs cannot last for any great length of time. Enterprising men have taken hold of the development of this remarkablo feature of California’s mineral wealth, and it will not be long before our asphaltum and its products will obtain a foothold in the markets not of America alone, but of the old world as well where, by the way, the annual consumption is something enormous.—[San Francisco Chronicle.

A Fyzabad Hindoo has been restored to his caste by the following process of “purification:'’ He lost caste eating eoaked food in a railway carriage in which persona of another caste were traveling. He had to Day his own weight

r first in rice, the value reaching 180 rupees, and then in wheat. After being twice weighed in this way he was made to sit on a square stone, while his body was covered with manure, the face only excepted; he was then taken up by two men and thrown into the river, and after a bath he was received by the Brahmins, fully restored to caste fellowship.

GREAT AMERICAN DESERT.

One of the Strange Corners of Our Country—lts Sad Record. The Great American Desert was almost better known a generation ago than it was to-day. Then thousands of the hardy Argonauts on their way to Calij .lorniu had traversed that fearful waste jon foot with their dawdling ox-teams, und hundreds of them left their bones to bleach in that thirsty land. The survivors of thoso deadly journoys had a very vivid idea of wlmt that desert was; but now that wo can roll across it in less than a day in Pullman palace cars, its real—and still existing—horrors are largely forgotten. I have walkod its hideous length alone aud wounded, and realize something more of it from that than a groat many railroad journeys across it have told me. Now overy transcontinental railroad crosses the great desort whioh stretches up and down tho continent, west of the Rocky Mountains, for nearly two thousand miles. The northorn routes out its least terrible parts; but the two railroads, whioh traverse its southern half—the Atlantic and Paoifio Railroad and the Southern Pacifio pioreo somo of its grimmest recesses. The first scientific exploration of this region was Lieutenant Wheeler’s United States survey about 1850; and ho was first to give scientific nssurauco that wo lmd here a desert as absoluto as tho Sahara. If Us parched sands could » speak their reoord, what a story they might tell of sufferings and death; of slow-plodding caravans, whose patient oxen lifted their feet ceaselessly from tho blistoring gravel; of drawn human faces that peered at some lying imago of a placid lake, and tolled,frantically on to sink at hist, hopeless and strengthless, in tho hot dust which the mirago had painted with tho hues and the very waves of water. No one will ovor know how many havo yiolded to tho long sleep in that inhospitable Innd. Not a year passes even now without record of many dying upon that desalt, and of many more who wander back, in a delirium of thirst. Even peoplo at tho railroad station sometimes rove off, lured by tho strange fasojmvtion of the desort, and never oome back; and of tho udventurous miners who seek to probe the golden Rocrets of thoso barren and si range-hued ranges, there ure countless victims. A desort is not necessarily an endless, level waste of burning sand. The Great American Desert is full of strange,burnt, ragged mountain ranges, with deceptive, sloping broad valleys between —though ns we near its southern end tho mountains become somowhat loss numerous, und tho sandy wastes more prominent. There nro many extinct volcanoes upon it, hundreds of squaro miles of black, bristling lava-flows. A large part of it is sparsely clothed with the hardy greasewood; but In places not a plant of any sort breaks tho surfaoo, as far as the eye can reach. Tho summer heat is unbearable, often returning 136 degrees in the shade; and a piece of motul which has boon in tho sun can no more bo handled than tv rod-lmt Btiive. Even in winter the mid-day heat is insufferable, while at night ice frequently forms on the watertanks. Tho daily range of temperature there is said to be the greatest over receded anywhere; and a change of 80 degrees in a few hours is not rare.—[St. Nicholas.

A War Time Relie.

A rolio of tho war between the States is now on tho dry dock, receiving such minor repairs and cleaning as may be necessary to commission her for harbor defence. This was tho second Monitor over built, and the record of her usefulness and her hard service may be seen in tho shot dents of tho turrets. Those are painted in n color different to that of the surrounding Iron, in order to emphasize their story; and they serve as an objectlesson to show that, after all, when compared with our days, how innocuous were the boasted shot and shell of tho re- 1 bullion. Of course it dose not make much difference whether a giant is killed by u toothpick or hoisted with a petard; he is dead all the same, and worms will eat him; but wo were proud, and with good reason, of those big smooth-bores and of their charges in those parlous days. Then tho theory was that for overy ten pounds of shot one pound of powder was needed, u UO-pounder being fired with nine pounds of powder;,to-day we have for ouch pound of powder two pounds of shot, tho 10-inch guns of tho Miantonotnoh, tho Nuntuokot’s neighbor, using 250 pounds of powder to drive tho 500 pound projeotne. Tho Nantucket has also a sentimental interest; for when the great Ericsson lay in state on hor decks in the harbor of New York, she was the immediate representative of what his genius had evoked to save the country in a time of porii, for tho original Monitor went down one dismal day off our treacherous coast, and left ns the second product of her wonderful type the little coast-defender which now lies half hidden within the walls of the dry-dook.—[Har-per’s Weekly.

The Firefly’s Light and Heat.

From some recent experiments of Professor Langley it appears that, after, all has been said and done, the firefly's light is not emitted without generating a certain amountof hsat—glow and warmth seeming to be insepnrab’e. Langley finds that the firefly’s light is substantially from the green side of the spectrum. As far as human contact with the insect is concern*!, there is no appreciable heat contained iu the light, but the professor’s wonderful and dolicate little instrument, which he calls a “bolosoope,” and with which he measured the heat emitted by the “bug,” shows that it is about onehalf of one-per cent, of that given out with an equal amount of light from the candle and other common combustible illuminants. That the fight produoed by the firefly is a chemical product would seem.to be indicated by the fact that it is decreased by the processes whioh check combustion and incereased by the opposite; that nitrogen quenches it and oxygen stimulates it, while the product of the operation, whatever it may finally prove to be, appears to be a fine carbon dioxide.—[St. Louis Republic. A stylish and nseful gown for early spring wear is of either black or blue serge with a bell skirt and an Eton jacket worn over a gay little red surah aiik blouse figured in black.