Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 9, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 March 1892 — Page 4

A Pair of Jacks.

BYLVIV Jamisen.

CHATTEB I. “Well, here I am," soliloquized Jack Beverly as he stood on the platform of a «yi»H country station. “I supposo that is the village through the trees yonder. I wonder what sort of hotel I*ll find there. First rate, Frank says. But I know just how far his opinion goes. However, the scenery is promising, and I dare say I can stand a few weeks of this. So far so good. Now to see about my trunk and then ” “Hello! where is my trunk?" With the question on his lips the speaker moved down the narrow platform without encountering the familiar object he sought. A email trunk of black leather, bearing his Initials but no further resemblance to his property, was the only obJect in sight. “A nice piece of business," he muttered. “What's to be done, I wonder. Ah, a man at last. Perhaps he can throw some light on the subject.” “Your trunk, sir,” repeated the nowcomer, when the grievance was explained. “Isn’t that it, sir?” “That thing!" Jack gave rather an uncomplimentary glance toward the small object of black. “No, mine does not resemble that in the least. They have foiled to put it off evidently, and meantime I am greatly inconvenienced.”' “I am very 601x5', sir. No mistako in checking it, I suppose?” "Mistake —no. I bought my ticket for Weston, and received my " “Ah,” interrupted the man, with a smile of intelligence, “this is South Weston. Weston is live rhiles above.” Jack looked slightly bewildered. “South Weston,” he repeated, in perplexed tones; “I don’t understand." “No, sir; a vfry natural mistake. Two names much alike. I’ll telegraph for your baggage. What name, please?” “Name? Oh, my name —Beverly, but wait a second. There’s no necessity to send for the thing. I’ll take the next train to Weston.”

“If you are Mr. Beverly, sir, you don’t need to go to Westen.” Jack turned with a decided start to see the station ma iter nodding familiarly to a short 6tout man who hod | come rather noiselessly upon them. "I’m sorry I’m late, sir," continued the intruder. “Maje was in one of his tantrums. Tho carriage is right here, if you’ll follow me." “Carriage, repeated Jack, knitting Us brows in grave perplexity. “Whose carriage?” An expression of surprise passed over foe man’s somewhat stolid face. “Mr. Millard’s, sir,” he answered, “Your letter was delayed; wo didn’t get ,it until this morning. The old gentleman and Miss Millard expect you.” “The deuce they do,” muttered Jack under his breath. “Millard! Millard! Ah, the name of Frank’s charming friends; and my letter? Oh, Frank’s, I dare say. Peculiar, though, I declare. I wonder if this fellow is perfectly sane." “Look here," he added aloud; “are you unite sure that Miss—, that is, Mr—. Oh, confound it. Are you sure lam expected?" The old man evidently thought he had wasted sufficient time in idle questioning, for his answer was somewhat short. “Mr. Beverly is expected, sir; I was told to meet him.” “All right," was the agreeable answer. “I cannot be mistaken in my own identity. Under the circumstances, I suppose, I should telegraph for my trunk. What is your name? Toby, eh? And this is the carriage and Maje. Well, Toby, let me know when we reach our destination." With these words Jock stepped into the carriage, lit a cigar, and settled himself to enjoy the picturesque scenery about him.

“Hero we are, sir." Alter twenty minutes’ riding •toby’s bead was thrust through the window with this information. "Are we?” questioned Jack, recalling bis wandering thoughts and turning his attention to the house before him. It was a long, Jow structure of stone and wood, surrounded by broad verandas and a quaint, old-fashioned garden, whose beds and borders were a medley of bright-hued flowers. “Here comes Miss Millard, sir.” Again was Toby’s head thrust through the window, and Jack found a fresh object to engage his attention. This time it was a girl riding towards him. Whether she was pretty he could not decide after his first brief scrutiny, but ' her attire was highly disillusionizing. The faded, ill-fitting waist and skirt had evidently been diverted from its original use, and dignified into a riding habit, and the battered straw hat, confined beneath her chin by an almost colorless piece of ribbon, bore ample proof of long and hard service. “An ill-dressed woman is always an abomination,” commented Jack, “but that rig rather beats anything I’ve yet come across. I begin to think this family slightly off their mental balance. Confound that hat. It hides her face completely.” “Back already, Toby?" asked a fresh, clear voice, in a lowered tone, as the owner of the old hat came to a standstill. “Yes, Miss Mary, and I’ve got him.” “Oh, Toby,” was the answer in a half whisper. “What a way to express it. He may think, we have some designs upon him. Is he in there?” “Yes, miss, returned Toby, glancing through the carriage window to assure himself on this point. Mary slipped from her saddle. “I suppose you are Mr. Beverly,” she said, looking rather curiously at Jack. "I am glad to see you, Mr. Beverly. Won’t you come in. I will tell grandpa you are here.” The tone was warm and cordial, and Jack found himself studying intently the dark, haughty face. It held all the charm of caprice and illasive moods. No feature was perfect. The mouth was too broad, the nose too abort, but the eyes were clear and beautiful, the complexion rich and warm, the lips full and mobile. “Frank was right In one particular," wss his mental comment, as he followed Mary through the broad hall into the ramie parlor. “riltellgrandpa youhave come,” Mary said again when they had reached this room. “He is quite an invalid. I fear you will find us both rather prosy. We nave so tow visitors. As a rule, we don’t “That is rather plain spoken, isn’t it?” •few added with a slight accession of •dor, “but you must understand what I swan. Grandpa has decided that we Shall b* friends. Ho has been looking hniri to your visit for some time.” “Wall," commented Jack, aa she left

him to his meditations, “I must say I cannot understand this extraordinay Interest in my humble self. If Frank holds the key to the riddle, I’ll have it." The riddle, as Jack called it, seemed more of a riddle than ever, when a few minutes later Mr. Millard welcomed him with the most cordial warmth. Quite overpowered, Jack could only murmur his thanks, while the old gentleman followed up his first remarks by a number of questions, most of which, he answered himself. “You are not like your father, my boy,” he said, sinking back in his chair, and observing Jack with a scrutinizing interest. “You don’t remember him, I daresay. We wero great friends. His death affected me deeply, and it was only quite recently and by the barest chance that I heard of your existence. Well, well, how time flies! But reminiscences are always painful; let us talk of something more cheerful.” When supper was over, and Mary had lert them for a few moments, Mr. Millard began to dilate upon the beauties of the country about them.

“I seldom go beyond my garden gate," he concluded, “ but Mary knows tho locality thoroughly." “Then I hope Miss Mary will consent to play the guide for my benefit," remarked Jack. “Yes, yes,” put in the old gentleman; “she will. As I so}', she knows the place thoroughly. Sho has lived here 60 long and been so much alone, it has boon a solitary existence for her—very solitary. Sho has had no friends; no social advantages. Her lack of knowledge on many points might impress a stranger unfavorably. I have foreseen all the possibilities arising from such social isolation without possessing the power to avert them. ’ You will excuse me for speaking in this way,” ho broke off abruptly, as an expression of pain flitted across his face. “Thesd thoughts constantly obtrude themselves. They pain me inexpressibly. I have broken all my old tics. Mary is the one link that holds mo to earth—her welfare my own interest in life.” These words, expressed with a peculiar earnestness, moved Jack deeply. He endeavored to put his own thoughts and feelings into words, but found it well nigh impossible to do so. “Miss Millard does not happen to miss any of these advantages,” he said at last. “Perhaps lack of worldly knowledge is to be preferred to an excess. She is ” “Grandpa, are you discussing me?” Both gentlemen turned with a slight start to see Mary standing in the open doorway. “Y’ou were talking about mo,” sho continued in a voice that held a hint of sharpness in its usnai clear tone. “Please don’t do so again, unless I am present to have my say.” “A spoiled child, as you see, Beverly," interrupted tho old gentlemnn, with quaint humor. “I have found it impossible to deny her anything. Now lam allowed uo rights whatever. Sit down, Mary; we will promise to be less personal in future.” Long after he was in bed that night Jack's thoughts constantly returned to Mary. Her bright, changeful face, her quaint, original sayings, even her very gestures, he recalled with wonderful vividness. “Why didn’t Frank give me some idea," he asked himself. “Tho slightest hiftt that I was to meet tho most extraordinarily self-opinionated young woman, ever fashioned by the hands of tho Almighty. How she would make some of Madam Grundy's votaries stare and start. I have an Idea I slia’n’t And my visit dull. I’m a lucky devil, any way you put it, and I must thank Frank for this last stroko of good fortune. By the way, I wonder how Frank discovered the friendship between my father and Mr. Millard, and why did ho not tell mo of it? I’ll tax him with it when I write. Now it is but a poor part of wisdom to exhaust my mental forcos in this way, so to sleep and dream.”

CIIAETEII 11. Mary Millard had no rocolloctton of either mothor or father. The one early event which had impressed itself upon her memory was foe death of her grandmother. She often recalled with painful vividness her grandfather’s passionate grief, and the bitter cry with which he had clasped her to his heart: "You are all I have in the world, Mary." She was but seven years old when they came to live in the old house in foe quiet New York village. Contentedly self-buried, Mr. Millard devoted ljjmself to hiß books, and apparently cared nothing for the world whioh circled round the changeless habits of his dally lifo. Mary’s delight, however, know no bounds. The beauty of life is irrepressible, and her heart was open to its faintest impression. “We must call it Kobin’s Rest,” she declared; “the trees are literally alive with robins. Oh, grandpa, I shall be so happy here." And certainly she was happy as foe violet in the shadow of foe wildwood, or foe birds who sang in foo trees around here.

Her education, so far as books went, was gained from her grandfather, tffbugh the task of studying was not one to which she took kindly. She learned more readily from nature Itself. Her powers of observation were quickened and sharpened, and the very solitariness of her life gave a warmer tone to her Imagination. But what her grandfather regretted most deeply was her lack of friends, or friends of her own age and condition, South Weston being made up of hardworking farmers and their families, none of whom were interested in anythin higher than their stock and crops. under such conditions the years had passed, and Mary was eighteen before she herself realized the fact. There was no change in her feelings or views of life, but she was consalous that her grandfather’s eyes followed her with a deeper sadness than formerly. One day he said to her quite suddenly: “Mary, do you realize that you are a woman?” Mary was decidedly startled at this intelligence. 'lndeed, I don’t, grandpa, and I don’t wish to. It will seem like being someone else." They were together in the study; Mr. Millard in his accustomed chair, and Marv in her corner beside him. “Yes," he continued after a second’s silence, “you are eighteen, and at that age " “One is supposed to be a woman,” put in Mary, rising from her 6tool and walking across the room with a half-serious, half-comic air. “It is rather hard, grandpa, that one must be, whether one wishes or not. Now look at me, please. Am I taller than I was a month ago? Am I the least bit wrinkled, or, has my hair turned gray! No, no,” she added with a shake ofthe head, “it isn’t any use. Let us talk of something else." She was back In her place, her hand upon his knee, her bright face raised to his. He shook his head with a half sigh. ‘Most young ladies "he began.

(She raised her hands with a protesting ‘gesture. "If you have any consideration for me, grandpa, don’t bring up most young ladies. They and I have nothing in common. Let us drop the subject. Do, for one more interesting. Please tell me what Jeannette means by her dark hints about a visitor. Surely we ar« not going to indulge in anything so giddy." She gave him a half-laughing, halfquestioning glance, and clasping hes hands about her knees, she rooked backward and forward, with a sort of rhythmio motion. “What has Jeannette told you?" he asked, smiling at her expression. "Oh, a whole rigmarole, in odd bits and at odd times. I’m to dress better because he is rich and hsed to fashionable girls. I’m to dispense with my uncouth manners because he Is accustomto lady-like females. In short," sha added, with fine scorn, "I’m to be a perfect little prig to suit his fastidious taste. Now, grandpa, if you have invited a man of that description to visit us I cannot help saying you've done a most foolish thing. Didn’t you reflect how dreadfully plain we'il seem in contrast to his people? and don't you know that while I am perfectly contented with my life and everything here, I’d feel like killing a man who’d dare to look down on me or you. Men like him are sure to break out some time, and I know I’ll break out too. Who Is he, anyhow?" “After such a tirade, I am almost afraid to say," was the laughing response. “But," he added more gravely, “I hope I can trust you to be a polite little hostess. lam particularly interested In this young Beverly. His father and I were old and dear friends. Circumstances, however, caused us to lose 6lght of each other. He went to California, married there, and died a few years later, leaving this son, of whose existence I heard only a few months ago. I wrote to him Immediately, receiving quite a characteristic letter in answer. This visit Is the result of my invitation. I am anxious for you to like him and to make his stay with us as pleasant as possible. lam sure he cannot be otherwise than agreeable, as I hear only foe best accounts of him." “It sounds very nice,” said Mary, with a reflective air, “but it strikes me he will have to be agreeable to make up for foe disturbance he’ll create.” Three days later Jeannette was putting foe guest room in order, and Mary was watching operations. “Look here Jeannette," she cried gayly, “I believe you consider him a ‘fairy prince.’ I never saw you beat that old bed so hard before." “I want to make it comfortable. Miss Mary. Your grandpa’s guest mustn't have nothing to complain of." “He’ll be an ungrateful wretch if he does complain," returned Mary with decision. "We are going to give him a royal welcome. I bet he never had such a big bed before in his life. I hope he’s tali. You didn’t hear grandpa say, I suppose?" “No, I haven’t heard nothing about his length or width either, and I don’t care, neither. I only know you are wearing me to a bone, with them self-willed ways of yours.” “To a what?” cried Mary with a quizzical glance at the portly fraihe before her. “Oh, Jeannette, you are provoking sometimes. I suppose you are still harping on my clothes. You’d have mo get a lot of now dresses just for that man. I hate new dresses. Besides, they take a lot of money, and- I shouldn’t amount to anything after all my trouble. If my old rigs are good enough for grandpa, they are good enough for any man in creation. I don’t care a snap of my finger for that Beverly, or whatever his name is. He’ll be suro to Imagine I’m dressing for him, so if my clothes are outrageous he can’t imagine it, that’s all there is about it. I’d like to see him laugh at them. Just let him dare.” (to be continued.]

Rosebeuky, the famous jumping horse, died in Chicago of injuries received in an attempt made to clear a bar 7 feet 5$ inches high. His record was 7 feet 5| inches. The pathos of Roseberry’s death will perhaps lead to considerable talk of the cruelty of forcing dumb animals to tests of agility and speed. But In such a case as this the extenuation is almost adequate. If the performances of the animals were perfunctory the cruelty would be obvious, but the race horse loves the track even better than the jockey, and it is not a forced supposition that Roseberry had a consciousness of the feat which he attempted and a strong delight In the attempt, and was, all in all, as free a moral agent in the matter as his rider. Men are committing suicide every day in a wild struggle to accomplish the Impossible. There may be a stronger pathos in the death of a horse under similar circumstances, hut the principal reasons for this are the uniqueness of the event and tho fact that the beast has no tongue with which to describe the humiliation of his defeat or the agony of his last hours.

Has the American girl learned to cook? A poet in the Chicago Herald leads us to think that she has. Not long ago the main body of United States poets was occupied with showing that, however great our girls’ attractions and accomplishments might be in other respects, they didn’t know how to cook. This new Western bard drops that subject as if the cooking propaganda had been successful, and takes up the misfortune that, al. though the knowledge of the women of to-day is immense, they will “get oil a street car backward.” Next to acquiring the habit of having her change ready to hand at the elevated stations, the most valuable improvement of which woman, bless her heart, Is susceptible lies in learning to face the horses when getting off the street cars, and, in getting on and off, always to take hold of the handle toward the front. We say this not for our own particular benefit,* meaning man’s, but for woman’s.

Jules Verne has been speculating again. He now claims to have discovered /frhat the world will be like after ten centuries shall have rolled around. Mr. Verne Is a more careful prophet than some alleged statesmen have proved in this country when prophesying and speculating regarding political events. It would be well for other prophets to consider the propriety of placing the date of events foreseen at as safe a distance as the French novelist. They would thus escape the humiliation that makes their slumbers uneasy. It is gratifying to note that national legislation for the protection of railroad employes is already being arranged for. If it be possible tc find a uniform car coupling that is satisfactory it should be promptly adopted In Interstate commerce.

A TREASURE HOUSE

WHERE THE SULTAN OF MOROCCO HOARDS HIS WEALTH. Three Hundred Slaves Guard the Building Night and Day—Treasures Hid in the Desert. Morocco has a famous treasure house which, although not as iuqiortant as it was once, still contains u largo part of tho Sultan's accumulations trom the heavy taxes imposed on his people. There are at present three sub-treas-uries where a consider 1 b!e part of tho country's revenue is kept. TIIO chief repository, however, and the only one which is well known, is nt Miknas, on the road between Fez and tho city of Morocco. In the course of time an immense amount of money has been kept in that strongly guarded receptacle, l’he treasure is in the form of gold and silver, a good deal of it coined and a great deal in the form of bar metal.

Morocco is not a very expensive Government to carry on, although the people are burdened with heavy taxes. The Saltan's outgo is chiefly for the expenses of his court, for the payment of his pension roll, which amounts to a considerable sum, for theological schools, for t'uo entertainment of his guests, aud for his army, whicL, however, is not a heavy drain on the treasury. The officers of the State cost the Government comparatively little, for they are expected, in tlieirown provinces, to bleed the people for their personal advantage, and they live right up to their privileges. Very little is expended for streets, roads, bridges, prisons and other things which cost most governments a great deal of money. The Sultnn hoards a large part of the sums ho receives from taxes to add to his personal fortune and to pay tho expenses of war, should lie bo so unlucky os to become involved ift trouble with his European friends. The debt be owes Spain on account of the unpleasantness between that country and nis own years ago is not paid yet, although the sum is being diminished rapidly, as Spain takes one-half of the total customs duties collected at Moroccan ports.

Nobody knows how great tho sum of money is that is held in the treasure boxes of Morocco, but it is supposed to be enormous. Morocco bus a population of about 8,000,000 people, and although most of them are very poor, tho tax gatherers contrive to squoezc a good deal of money out of them. Miknas has boon the royal treasury for some centuries. The treasury building is a short distance outside of the city. Its st me walls are very high and thick. To got inside these walls one has to pass through three great iron doors. If thieves could got inside all these doors they yet might not be able to secure the treasure. The interior is a long, narrow hall, ns dark as pitch,which is the passageway to the iron trap door, abundantly supplied with locks, which is let into the stone flooring, and leads to an underground apartment, where the treasure is kept in a lnrge room called the treasure chamber. The building is guarded constantly by 300 negro slaves, who are a part of the Sultan’s army, and are nevor permitted to leave the neighborhood. The treasure houso is opened only once a yoar. At that time the Sultan either comes in person or sends one of his most trusted officials. The purpose, usually, is not to take any treasure away, but to add the hoard, because the Sultan retains from the taxes a sufficient sum to meet all the expenses of his court and government. As a rulo, therefore, unless the Sultan has had an unusually unpleasant time with the Berbers, who aro in rebellion often, aud determined, apparently, to make the Sultan’s life a burden to him, the accumulations in tho treasury are not diminished. The sub-treasuries, which have existed within the past few years only, are at Fez, the city of Morocco, und in the oasis of Tafilalot, south of tli 1 Atlas Mountains, amoug the Filali people. The shrewd Sultan, in hiding a part of his revenue in the desert of Sahara, is providing, undoubtedly, so - the possibility that he may bo compelled to leave his throne and seek safety in flight some day. Ho proposes, if that unhappy event occurs, to have money enough for a rainy day in a region that is not accessible easil}'. It is said that the treusure kept in the oasis is very much larger than the amount deposited in the other subtreasuries, and that the Sultan has been considering seriously the advisability of carting off most of the money lie keeps at Miknas to Taiilalet. Miknas is on the road to tho city of Morocco, and should tho Sultan he involved in war with an invading Europeaa power it is likely that 0110 of his first enterprises would be to get possession of the treasure house at Miknas. The soldier slaves who guard the house are called tho black guard. A great many fables and rumors about this treasure house have been recorded, but the foregoing facts are unexaggerated, and very little more is known actually about the treasure. —[New York Sun.

Maple Sugar Constituents.

Vermont maple sugar has an enviable reputation and the management of the Vermont sugar market is therefore of interest. The subject of sugar making is considered in a bulletin from the Vermont station. From this it is learned that an accurate thermometer is the best guide as to the handling of syrup in the pan. Fresh sap boils at 213 degroes, but, as it grows thicker, the temperature must rise to 240 degrees, or even 245 degrees. Pure syrup at 230 degrees tests eighty degrees, and at 253 degrees it would be ninety degrees, a degree being a per cent, of sugar. The syrup naturally contains mineral matter, and, toward the close of tho season, some glucose. At the beginning of the season the impurities are one-six-teenth tho whole amount of sugar and these may increase, until the last run contains thirty per cent. Tho more the impurities the higher the temperature of boiling point. The last run cannot be made into a sugar testing eighty degrees, and ninety degree sugar can be mode only from the ruus of the first half of the season.—[New York World.

How Clogs are Made.

Clogs are made at a number of places in this country. One family in Philadelphia, five in number, inoluding boys and girls, are expert makers of these articles. Clogs, which are known also' as pattens, are wooden soles to which shoo or boot uppers are attached. In the midland counties of England large quanties of them are produced. .There tho sole and heel are made of one piece from a block of mapel or ash which is two inches thick

and a little longer and broader than the desired size of shoe. The outer side of the sole and heel is fashioned with a long chisel-edge implement called the dogger’s knife or stock. With another instrument a groove is mado about one-eighth of an inch deep and wide around the side of the sole, and by means of still another tool, called a hollower, the contour of the inner face df the sole is adapted to the shape of the boot. The uppers of heavy leather, machine sowed or riveted, are fitted closely to the groove around the sole,and a thin piece of leather binding is nailed all around the edges, the nails being placed very close in order to give a firm, durable fastening. These clogs are also worn by people whoso calling brings them into damp places. Expensively made clogs are in demand. Theso have finely trimmed soles and fancy uppers, while there are clogs used by dancers on tho stuge which cost from $2.50 to $6 a pair. The towns of Mende and Villeport are centers of wooden shoe manufacturing in Franco, and here about 1,700 people find employment in this industry.—[Scientific American.

A WAR STORY.

Incidents in the Career of the Late General Barnum. In talking with Colonel Jatnes E. Jones, one of New York’s port wardens, it came out that he had been in the United States army service during the civil war, with the late General Henry A. Barnum, about whom he told me an incident which camo to his knowledge from the General himself. General Barnum was in command of a brigade under General Fitz-John Porter at the battle of Hanover Court House. Among the prisoners captured was a Confederate surgeon, Dr. Deshay, who was mounted upon a magnificent white horse. It was the custom of war not to hold surgeons as prisoners, and Dr. Deshay was brought before General Barnum for disposition. The soldiers in the meantime had taken his horse from him, and an oxcited sergeant was riding it back and forth within plain view of the two men, about a mile away. The animal was clearly being abused, and when General Barnum greetod the surgeon with courtesy, and inquired what he might da for him, Dr. Deshay replied, as he pointed to the animal he had just been riding: “That white horse, which one of your soldiers is abusing, was given to me by my wife whoso pet the animal was, when I camo into the service. I would rather lose an arm than that horse.” General Barnum gave immediate orders for the restoration of the horse to Dr. Deshay, and on closer acquaintance found him such a pleasant gentleman that ho went with him to the outer lines of the army whon the doctor was permitted to go back into the Confederate lines.

Tho sequel of this episodo occurred in Richmond. General Barnum was wounded and captured at Malvern Hill. The wound which he received at this time was from a bullet which passed entirely through his body, and did not heal to the day of his death, but required a rubber setou for its constant drainage. Owing to his official rank, which was shown by his uniform, General Barnum had been taken to Richmond as a prisoner. He lay on a cot which was placed on tho sidewalk outside of Libby prison, where the sun beat down on his face until it was blistered and maggots gathered in his frightful wound. A Confederate surgeon corning along stopped suddenly in front of the General's cot. It was Dr. Deshny, and ho recognized his friend. He secured a parolo for the General, took him to his house, nursed him through what would otherwise have been a fatal injury, and finally secured his exchange for a captured Confederate officer. General Barnum was wont to speak of this incident as one of the touches of war life which demonstrated that all men arc full of humanity.—New York Press.

Wearing Linen.

“So you liave given up wearing flannel. Why is this?” asked one lady of another. “I gave it up because 1 found something so much more comfortable. I am going to turn the order of undergarments topsy-turvy and wear linen in winter for warmth and wool in summer for coolness if I wear wool at all, which is somewhat doubtful. Why, my dear, do you know that I always take cold when I leave off my linen housedresses in the fall and put on wool onos? I had notio*ti this for several seasons and finally made some experiments, by which I satisfied myself that linen or cotton was warmer than wool, and so I am going to fly in the face of tradition and custom and wear linen, and you will find that my health will improve. I entertain ideas about the hoalthfulness of garments that can only be washed in warm water. “Of course we know that a moderate degree of heat not only does not destroy the germs of disease, but is favorable to their growth, and it appears to me that flannels worn from month to month, sometimes from soason to season, with only warm baths between wearings, must, in the nature of things, accumulate impurities. Suppose thoro is an illness or exposure to disease, how could there be more favorable conditions for its continuance than the flannels as at present.

The Alaska Census.

Fifteen limber jawed natives live in Ahgomekhelanaghamute, and eighteen told the enumerators in their own sweot way, that Chekiohtoleghaghamute was their home. Kennachuuauugamute is a settlement somewhat remarkable for having more inhabitants than there are letters in its name, while Kochlogtopagamuto boasts twenty residents and therefore enjoys the same proud distinction. The natives break the name of Nunavoknakch'.ugugamute in the middle, not that it is a hard word, as things go in Alaska, but to draw out its sweetness a little longer, In Wohlenogamute nineteen children of the soil have their abiding place, and about twice as many are more or less proud to call Yokokakat their home.—[Cleveland Leader.

A Woman Rancher.

Out on a ranch in the Bruneau Yalley, Idaho, lives Miss Kittie V. Wilkins, who is in partnership with her father and two brothers in the business of Rising horses and cattle. It is a country where few women would care to lire. But Miss Wilkins finds life there very much to her liking, and there is nothing about hiV to indicate that she is not as much of a woman as any of her sex that live down on 8 tine of the fashionable avenues of Chicago. There is nothing masculine about her manner. She is self-possessed and practical. Horses are the embodiment of all that is noble to her, but she seldom gets the worst of a horse trade.

When she is at home she spends her time in mounting spirited horses, and unattended she gallops away over the prairies, stopping wherever she is apt to find a herd of horses that suitft her fancy. The herders and dealers all know her, and her judgment on a horse is law and gospel. Then she rides home, dismounts without any assistance, ungirths her charger, and calls her partners about, her to tell them what she has done, and they attend to the rest. When the season comes for shipping she leaves the ranch in charge of the stock. For the most part they are what is known as wild horses. The care of such animals generally gives a man all he can do, but this young womaujjfmakes no complaint. She has no trouble with her horses. They seem to understand ihat they are under the care of a woman, and act accordingly. Arrangements have been made in advance for the shipment of these animals from a certain point on the railroad. She has mapped out before leaving the cities she proposes to visit with her stock. Tho train pulls out and Miss Wilkins is in tho caboose. The railroad men know her, and no one could be treated more considerately than this young lady who is traveling alone. No chaperone for her. Whether the ranch, or on the corral, or on the road, or in the centres where she sells, Miss Wilkins is always treated with all consideration. The rounder-up on the,broad plazas, where the trails are the only avenues, lift their hats to her when they meet her. The men at the station have for her the most profound respect.—[Chicago Tribune.

California’s Big Trees.

If the groves of the Sequoia gigantea, the famous big trees of California, are to be preserved for another generation to see and wonder at, the national Government will have to act very soon. The ruthless destruction of these forest kings that is going on through the entire belt of the groves, wherever the Government has not already thrown its protecting hand, is beyond appreciation by any one who has not seen it. These trees grow nowhere in the world but along a certain well-defined belt of the we tern slope of the Sierra Nevadas, at an elevation of about 6,000 feet, where they are scattered in irregular groups, numbering perhaps a score, through a distunce of about two hundred miles. One would think that objects so unique, to say nothing of their beauty and grandeur and their marvellous age, would be safe from the hands of the lumberman, and particularly as sinco the mountain sides are covered thickly with forests that are just as valuable, for money-making purposes, as the sequoias. But the lumberman is nildevouring. Ho hasuttacked these few groves of giant trees as if his sole purpose in life was to exterminate them as quickly as possible. North of tho Yosemite Valley tho Calaveras grovo is untouched. Thirtyfive miles south of the valley is the Mariposa grove, which is included in the Yosemite grant, and is therefore safe. But the Fresno Flats grove, tho next one in the belt, is a scene of destruction.

It belongs to the California Lumber Company of San Jose. Their policy has been to slaughter the trees without regards to age or size, beauty or grandeur. This was once ono of tho most beautiful of tho groves, but to-day it is <• pitiful wreck. Giants of the forest, fiftoen, twenty, and thirty feet in diameter, lie on the ground in every direction. The largest trunks, those that are too large to be handled easily with the saw, have been shattered with blasting powder. Stumps of the trees six, ten, or a dozen feet high are all about, an army of witnesses to the malevolent avarice of ificn. Occasionally there is a mighty tree still standing, with a great gash, perhaps five feet deep, cut and sawed into one side. This grove has been almost annihilated. When the company cleans up tho trunks and limbs that now cover the ground its work of destruction will be just about completed. It has been engaged on this grove for a number of yeurs, and has turned its attention almost entirely to the sequoias. If the big tree lumber brought higher prices than any other sort, the zeal which is shown in the destruction of the groves could be understood. But it rates no higher in the market than the sugar pine, with which tho mountain slopes are densely covered. The lumber companies could havo made just as mnch money and been at no expense for blasting powder if they had let the big trees alone and turned to tho sugar pine. In the further south the same scene is repeated time nftor time. In that portion of the sequoia belt between the north and south boundaries of Tular county alone thore are at least ten mills, every ono of which is industriously working away at the big trees. Their owners evidently fear that the national Government will some day awakon to tho wisdom of throwing protection around these unique groves, and thoy are determined to get just as much money out of them as possible before that day comes. In the Fresno grove, which is on the line between Fresno and Tulare counties, the General Grant National Park preserves a few of tho big trees. It is only a square mile in extent, and does not include the whole of the grove. The rest of it is rapidly disappearing. A little to the southtust the Sequoia National Park includes tho North Kaweah and South Kaweah groves, which wore withdrawn from sale in time to save them from destruction. Through the remainder of tho groves one comes upon the same scene again and again. Everywhere axe, saw, and blasting powder are doing their detestable work with speed and thoroughness. —[New York Sun.

A Disastrous Yawn.

One of the most peculiar misadventures on record recently befell William Duvis of San Francisco. One morning he awoke after a very sound night’s slumber, and was seized with an uncontrollable impulse to yawn and stretch himself. He had stretched bis arms out to their full length when suddenly ho felt something snap, and discovered that he was unable to restore his left arm to its natural position. He groaned with anguish and friends came to his assistance, bundled him up and took him to the receiving hospital, where it was found that Davis while stretching himself had dislocated his left shoulder. Dr. Somers pulled the joint back into its socket. The doctor says he has frequently heard jaws being dislocated in excessive owning, but this is the first case recorded, so far as he knows, of a shoulder being yawned out of joint. He thinks it would have been impossible but for the fact that Davis’ shoulder had been dislocated before, some years ago. Mr. Richfellow—Do you notice what a beautiful pearly, satiny complexion Miss Beauti has? Rival Belle — Yes. I don't see how she does it.

NOTES AND COMMENTS.

The statistician of the Delaware and Hudson Canal Co. R. R. points with pride to the remarkable fact that on the Pennsylvania branoh of this railroad not a single passenger has been killed since the road went into operation, twenty years ago. “It is also u matter for congratulation,” he says, “that during that time four children have been bom on the trains of that division—two of them twins.” All four are alive, and one of them is an employee of the company. An eminent French statistician makes a clever and graphic presentation of the thrift of the French people. He saye that a duplicate of the Eiffel Tower, which weighs between 7,000,000 and 8,000,000 kilogrammes, built of silver, and with two additional stories added, would barely represent the actual savings of the French people deposited in the national savings banks. The kilogramme is 2 pounds 3.26 ounces. Thb new Reading terminal station in Philadelphia is to boast the largest trainhouse in the world. What is termed the false work of the great arch has already been begun. Its span will be 266 feet, and height from the ground 120 feet. The train-house is to be 553 feet in length. The station proper will be 110 feet in length, making the terminal building 663 feet long. The train house will be laid out with thirteen tracks at the Market Street end, which will be reduoed by switohes to nine tracks ut the Arch Street end. The roof will be constructed of iron, copper, and wood.

The turning of the bed of the Feather River at Oroville, Cal., has won for the engineer of that astonishing piece of work an offer from the liquidator of the Panama Canal Company to go to Colon anu make an estimate on the cost of turning the Chagres River and converting its bed into a caual channel, with the aid of five looks. The theory seems to be that what French engineering failed in American skill may finish. But Col. Frank McLaughlin, the Feather River manipulator and mountain borer, has said: “No, I thank you; the United States are good enough for me!" New York Sohool says that Edward, Dukeof Clarence, would, had he become king, have revived those old English names that have not been associated with English sovereigns for several centuries. As Edward he would have been the seventh of that name, Edward VI having followed Henry VIII, but as Clarence he would hove been the first of that name to reign, the Clarences never having reached the throne. Now the line of succession goes to his brother George, and the Georges have been most frequent since the House of Hanover began to reign. Through Victoria, whose father was the Duke of Kent and son of George 111. tho kiuship passes to Charles I, Mary, Dueen of Scots, Elizabeth, and back through the Tudors and Plantagenets to William the Conqueror, spanning the period of English and modern history.

The mining-camp depicted by Bret Harto seems to be a thing of the past. The rush to Cripple Creek, the new gold mines in Colorado, should logically have produced those crude frontier types which Mr. Harte has immortalized, but the Cripple Creek Crusher reports: “Thus far tho Crusher is proud of Cripple Creek from a moral standpoint. Through all the mad rush and wild excitement there have been no murders or serious quarrels. The camp has been exceedingly fortunate in securing a class cf people that are here for legitimate business, prompted by honest motives. As a rule, every man attends strictly to bis own business. We are free from the baneful influences of the tinhorn and the thug. The record seems all the more remarkable from the fuct that as yet our town has no municipal government, and the rules of the camp have but lately been adopted, and are not known to a large number of our people. The saloons and gambling-houses are orderly and quiet. No camp in the State can boast of a higher degree of intelligence and manhood than characterize the people of Cripple Creek, and no camp has >een pushed into prominence more rapidly or systematically as the result of such intelligence.” Probably no city in the United States is so well known to army officers as St. Louis. As early as 1826 Jefferson Baracks were established there, and up to the civil war St. Louis was a rendezvous for troops ordered to the West. During the war armies wore recruited and equipped for the field there. Grant lived in St. Louis for many years before the war, and Sherman for many years after it. Sheridan left St. Louis as a captain of infantry under General Nathaniel Lyon to march on Springfield, mo., in 1861. General John M. Schofield was stationed in St. Louis when the war broke out. Generals Grant, Hancock, and Eugene A. Carr married St. Louis belles. In short, our army officers have many pleasant as well as turbulent memories of St. Louis. But when department headquarters were removed I'rom the citv last autumn, St. Louis's glory as a military station began to fade. Jefferson Barracks and the Arsenal at Carondelet have been turned into cloth-ing-depots for the army, and the only garrison left is a siugle company. A recruiting office is still maintained. The quarters ut the barracks are old, and in some cases dismantled. But the reservation on which the barracks stand is one of the most beautiful in the possession of the Government, consisting of 1,200 acres of grass and park. The people of Cochise County, Ariz., have suffered terribly from Apache raids. Of the last Legislature the county asked but ono thing—that a company of rangers be organized tojprotect settlers. A rill empowering the Governor to issue a call ana equip a company, when, in his opinion, its services were needed, was rassed; but, although several murders lave been committed by the Apaches since the adjournment of tho Legislature, Governor Irwin has done nothing. The citizens have now taken the matter up themselves in grim-earnest. Four bloodhounds have been imported from the Texas penitentiary at Huntsville, and it is nroposed to track the Indians and exterminate them with the aid of theso dogs. The hounds are to be taken into the Chiricahua Mountains in Arizona, where Masse and Kid, the leaders ot the band of murderers,- have their headquarters. At intervals they sally out, ■twoop down on unprotected settlers, kill them, seize their stock, and return to the nountain fastnesses. If hard pressed, be Apaches sometimes cross the border into Mexico and make for the wilder ■sierra Madres. Tho bloodhounds selected by the Cochise citizens are oiossed vith fox hounds, and their scent is said r o be superior to that of the pure bloodhound. Governor Irwin will now be tsked to 00-operate in the work of extern i nos ion by organizing a company of r-ncers.