Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 August 1892 — Page 5

A WOMANS INFLUENCE

BY LULU JAMISON

CHAPTER V. HOME AGAIN. It was late in the afternoon of a day toward the close of May that Brian approached Elmwood. A telegram, sent from New York the day before, had announced his coming, and, on alighting from the train, he found the carriage awaiting him, and the old coachman he remembered so well beaming a smiling weloome. Five years had wrought very perceptible changes in the aspect of the country. The small town lying within the •heifer of the valley, true to it* old progressive spirit, revealed a wonderful ■development'. New and imposing residences were to be seen on all sides. Busy activity was everywhere visible, and Brian began to imagine himself a modern Bip Van Winkle, returning to his home after a long absence. His home ? Alas! this was his home no longer. For the first time perhaps the full force of this idea struck him. From the carriage window he caught distant glimpses of Elmwood, the stately old house crowning the brow of the hill like a sentinel guarding the village below, its terraced gardens sloping to the narrow river winding like a silver thread between its green banks, and the splendid old forest trees clothed in the tender foliage of May. Be sighed as he turned from the picture. Be had never been particularly fond of Elmwood in the old days, the country under no circumstance offering inducements that he found alluring, but now all was changed. The home he had looked upon as his had passed into the hands of another, and the knowledge raised new longings and new desires in his heart. Be tried to picture the cousin who had taken his inheritance from him, but his imagination could grasp nothing definite. Be wondered if she were tall or short, dark or light, oold or affable, and then he fell to framing a face in his mind; and as the intangible shadow assumed a clearer shape it unconsciously took on the form and features of the Margaret he had left in the fishing town on Nantucket.

"Bother it!” he cried, gnawing his mustache with a lie roe ness that argued inward disturbance. “The want of money is the greatest here under the sun. Margaret was such a dear girl. ” This thought came as a natural sequence to the other, and he smiled at the possibilities it suggested. Boor Brian had his faults; among them an overweening love for his own comfort, and an intensedislike for whatever oould cause him the least inconvenience. Bis love for money was relative, not abstract. Money oould buy pleasure and luxury, therefore he desired its possession. Be had no ambition for the fame to be won by his own endeavor. No desire to take his place in the working world and win his way in the struggle for prominence. Privation and hardship, those prolific mothers of greatness, were wanting in his life, and the activity and industry which Margaret admired were to him a laborious effort that no after greatness could compensate. Bis education was in part responsible for these ideas. Selfish and Indolent by nature, he had early been deprived of his mother, and in her person, of the careful training and judicious dicipline which might have weakened, if not wholly eradicated, these traits. Bis father was illy fitted for the guardianship of a quick, impulsive boy, and the injudicious indulgence of an old nurse strengthened the already strong characteristics. When, as frequently happened, Brian grew unmanageable, his father was appealed to, and his severity on such occasions had far from' the desired effeet

Such a course of training had a practical effect on Brian’s after life. When he left college, he studied medicine, in accordance with his father’s wishes, and during the progress of his studies, proceeded to sow his wild oats with such unusual vim that frequent quarrels between himself and father became the rule. These terminated in one more bitter than all the rest, which resulted in Brian’s departing for Europe, and his father threatening to discontinue his allowance. A very direful threat, that ended, as Brian expected, in nothing more than words. Brian had been traveling several months when Margaret’s father died and she took up her residence at Elmwood. Once there, she soon won her way to her uncle’s heart, and thaold gentleman formed the project of a marriage between her and his son. He died without realizing his hope, and for reasons which he did not disclose, he left all his property to Margaret, and cut Brian off with an income of $2,000. How, after five years absence, the disinherited son was experiencing the novel sensation of entering his old home a visitor. The friendly, familiar air of everything about him, made his sense of loss more keen; and when ojd St had known him as boy, met him at the door with eyes suspiciously moist, and a face full of emotion, he found himself so overcome ’ that he could do nothing more than grasp the toil-worn hand of the faithful old servant, and shake it with impulsive affection. “Poor Stephens,” he said to himself, when left alone to his reflections. “I firmly believe the faithful fellow had tears in his eyes. Never thought I’d be so low in the scales that the feeling of an old servant would touch me so. I wonder if my beloved cousin realizes what she has taken from me. More than mere money. Yes, a thousand times more. She has taken my happiness. And Margaret—with all this I could have married her. She liked me, I feel sure. Her every action told me as much. Dear girl! haw happy I should be to make her mistress here. Well, there is certainly no use sighing over the inevitable. ” This was a philosophical conclusion; but Brian found it difficult to shake off the incubus of despondency and rum his attention to some needful changes In his attire, preparatory to going down to dinner. He was not a particularly vain man; yet, wishing to appear to the best advantage in his cousin's eyes, he took special pains with his toilet. He wondered if Margaret had visitors, Stephens had spoken of the ladles. “Probably some old friend or chaperon," he concluded, with a last satisfactory glance at his reflection in the mirror. He found no one in the parlors, and, the library being likewise deserted, he wandered along the hall to a half open door, through which he caught a glimpse of a black dress.

He approached it with some trepidation. He suspected possible changes in the arrangement of the house since Margaret's advent, and he was rather fearful of intruding upon some private apartment. His hesitating steps had, however, been heard. There was a movement in the room “a cry of “Dear Brian!” and he found himself holding Miss Hilton’s hand, and gazing, with mingled pleasure and surprise, in the gentle, kindly face. “Come right in,” she said brightly. “This is our sitting-room, but you are not debarred entrance. It is such a pleasure to see you again, you poor boy. ” “It is almost like a home coming,” he rejoined in a low voioe, following her into the cozily furnished room. “I soarcely expected my weloome from your hands. Who am I to thank for that pleasure?* “Margaret. Poor child, she is all alone, and needs some older friend and adviser." “Naturally. I suppose she is well?” “Yes, quite well. Her health is usually good. Still I think she has never recovered from our late bereavement. It was a sad event for you, also, Brian.” The old lady spoke feelingly, and her words brought an expression of pain to Brian’s face. “Poor father,” he said, after a second. “I hope he did not think me quite ungrateful or unfeeling. It will be one of my lasting regrets that I oould not be with him before the end. I was traveling at the time, you see, and your message announcing his illness reached me with that announcing his death.” “His illness was very sudden,” put in Miss Hilton. “None of us realized it until a few hours before the last. He spoke of you most affectionately," she continued, bending more closely over her knitting. “I am sure he felt that only circumstances kept you from him." “And yet ” began Brian, as the old lady paused. f l know what you would say,” she resumed. “I do not think the terms of hife argued any want of affection for you. I cannot enter into his reasons, yet I believe he thought he was acting for the best. Margaret has never reconciled herself to the condition of things.” “I suppose it is only a balancing of the scales,” he said, rather gloomily. “I do not question my cousin’s right to a portion of the money, hut ” He paused, either unwilling or unable to complete his sentence. “I think it will turn out for the best,” remarked Miss Hilton, with cheery certainty. “Money is nice to have, I acknowledge, but most of our great men began their lives without it; and, by the way, in my pleasure at seeing you I h tffe quite forgotten Margaret’s message- She is feeling unusually tired today* and hopes you will excuse her until dinner time."

“Certainly,” he responded, readily, appreciating the feeling which had prompted his cousin’s remaining in the background until she should partly realize his changed condition. “But until dinner time I will allow my curiosity full play. From all accounts she is a paragon. An unpleasant fact to me, as I shall appear to disadvantage by contrast. I fear she has started out with a bad opinion of me. ” “Then give her reason to change. She has ideas and convictions of her own, but she is just and recognizes merit where it exists.” Brian appeared dubious. * “Ideas and convictions,” he repeated. “1 guessed as much from her letters to me. I think there is something iu the name which gives determination of character. I daresay she has made a great many friends here.” “Yes, she has a winning personality, which never fails her. Colonel Barton —you remember him of course—is especially fond of her. A*nd the poor people would go through fire and water to serve her. ” “A Saint Elizabeth,” put in Brian, meditatively. “There are drawbacks to such a character. Is she very prim and particular?" Miss* Hilton laughed merrily as a vision of Margaiet rose before her. “Wait until you see her, and then tell me your opinion. I suppose you are quite tired out with traveling, and intend to settle down to a more quiet existence?” “You think I’ve played the Wandering yew long enough?” he questioned. “Well, Miss Hilton, bohemian life has its drawbacks, certainly, but it is blessed with advantages also. It develops the mind, broadens one’s views, and brings new ideas into being. We realize that home is a very small corner of the world, after all. It is a practical education.”

“Ah, Brian, you are at your old tricks again. You can always find arguments in favor of what you like. ” Brian laughed. “I think we can all do that, Miss Hilton. Now tell me the news. The Lady Teazles are not all dead, I suppose?” . * “Unfortunately, no; thejj appear to thrive on this air. I really don’t know of much particular news, though. People get married, babies are born, and people die. That is about all they seem to do around here. Of course you have not forgotten Col. Barton. His temper is as peppery as ever, I think. His niece is living with him. She is rather a pretty girl, though poor, I imagine. “Bertie is studying law with an old friend in New York. I shouldn’t be at all surprised to hear of an engagement between Alice and him one of these fine days, though that is merely supposition op my part. Mary LojHs; Ah, here is Margaret.” Brian looked up quickly at these words. A slim, girlish figure stood in the doorway, and as his glance fell upon it his eager expectancy gave way to consternation. He found his eyes meeting those of Margaret Smith. Incapable of speech, he could only stare upon the seeming apparition, while Miss Hilton gazed helplessly fro n his disturbed face to Margaret’s cold, impenetrable one. Only Margaret was equal to the occasion. Sho had prepared herself for this meeting, and advancing toward Brian with easy self-possession, though with an air and expression that told of remembrance, she took his hand, saying in rather conventional tones: “You are welcome to Elmwood, Cousin Brian, “hough I hope you need no words of mine to assure you of that. I must beg your pardon for my late appearance. Miss Hilton gave you my excuse, and I am sure her presence more than compensated for my absence. ” Brian tried to make some intelligible answer, but he was not very successful. Margaret was amply revenged. He wondered if revenge had been her object in bringing him here. Just now be was willing to believe anything. , Margaret saw his inquiring glance, 'and probtA)ly guessed his thought She bowed her head, while a deep flush passed over her face. Then, turning abruptly with the announcement that dinner was served, she led the way to the dining room. The many excellent dishes failed to tempt Brian’s appetite. While he found himself unable to penetrate Margaret's

object in concealing her identity from him, he had an unpleasant remembranoe of their last meeting, the despicable part he had played, and the contempt she had manifested toward him. Miss Hilton watched him narrowly. She was much mystified, but with an intuitive sense that something was wrong, she made laudable efforts to relieve the strained condition of things by introducing various subjects of conversation. Margaret seconded her ably, but Brian answered in monosyllables. It was a relief to him, if not to all parties, when dinner came to an end, and they at last repaired to the parlors, where, as soon as politeness permitted, Brian excused himself on the plea of fatigue and sought the weloome solitude of his room. “Come, Miss Hilton,” cried Margaret when they were alone, “let us go to our sitting-room. It is ever so much more cozy than these bare parlors; Don’t you think so?” She did not wait for an answer, but hurried off to the room in question, where Miss Hilton, following more slowly, found her ensconced in the depths of a large rocking chair, bending closely over a book whioh she was holding upside down. “Tell me all about it,” said the old lady, gently taking the book from her hands and placing it on the table. “You know we agreed to have no secrets from each other. You and Brian have met before to-night. ” “Yes," answered Margaret, slowly buying her face in her hands, “and, oh, Miss Hilton, I did not think the day would ever come when I should feel so thoroughly humbled. I had rather beg in the streets than feel my sense of obligation to him. He thinks me oapable of stooping to seek revenge. He thinks I am enjoying the money he has lost, but, ah, if he knew what bitter humiliation its possession is to me, he oould wish no sweeter revenge. ” “Revenge, Margaret? You talk wildly, my dear child. I’m afraid that trip to S’conset did you more harm than good. I can very safely say that such an idea has not entered Brian’s mind.’’ “Perhaps not,” replied Margaret, miserably. “I do not think he is revengeful, but I will tell you the whole story, Miss Hilton. How -we met, and what passed between us, and then you can understand how circumstances have made my old regret more bitter. ” Then, with her head gri Miss Hilton’s shoulder, and her hand clasped in that of the dear friend who had never failed her in any difficulty, Margaret told of the meeting on the beach at S’conset, of the long and pleasant hours of a close companionship, and of the interview which marked an epooh in two lives. Miss Hilton listened quietly, and if she guessed what was left untold, she gave no hint. She talked to Margaret in her easy, gentle way. She said all that was possible in Brian’s favor, but apparently her words were ineffectual in changing Margaret’s ideas, and she confessed to herself with a sigh that the unfortunate meeting had been a contretemps indeed, and a severe if not a fatal blow to her crushed hopes. jTO BE CONTINUED. |

Aristocracy Open to Offers.

The following advertisement lately appeared in an English newspaper: “Directors wanted of good social standing for a new company now in course of formation; qualification will be found for selected applicants, and remuneration will be on a liberal scale.” To this there were 141 replies received; one earl, one viscount, four barons, seven baronets, one knight, thirteen honorables, six members of parliament, four generals, one admiral, nine colonels, four majors, fourteen army captains, three minor naval officers, and seventy-three without rank or title. There were some very amusing letters accompanying the applications. The earl said: “I need not point out that, should you entertain my proposal, an important leverage in procuring a good subscription of public capital will be gained by my title, which Is an old one, and likely to prove an attraction to investors. I may also state that if appointed I should always make it a point of driving to the general meetings in my brougham and pair, with servants in full livery. This, I have been told by friends sitting on company hoards, is a great factor in inspiring shareholders with confidence. ” One of the barons wanted to know “if the fees were paid in advance, irrespective of any profits made by the company.” One of the members of parliament wrote that he had no doubt that, if he were appointed, it would result In heavy purchases of shares in his constituency, wnere he was very popular. “And,” he added, “it would be well if the bona-fldes of your scheme were assured—at any rate on the surface.” The last part of the sentence would seem to rather give the virtuous legislator away, as he evidently did not care whether the scheme was good or not.—Financial World.

Preliminary to Ute Baptism.

Bishop Goe, of Melbourne, who has been visiting Deeming in prison and endeavoring to offer spiritual consolation to the condemned man, was for a number of years rector of St. George’s, Bloomsbury. No one will be surprised to learn that, although he gave the bishop a quiet hearing, Deeming was “quite unmoved.” Dr. Goe’s interview with the criminal recalls a good story of his lordship’s earlier years, says the Pall Mall Gazette. When he was a curate a famous pugilist in the parish, who went by the name of Jim the Slugger, and who had never darkened a church door, called at the parsonage, asking him to baptize the baby. Accordingly the bishop repaired to Jim’s house, but was surprised on being admitted to see Jim lock the door and pocket the key. “Be you the parson come to sprinkle my kid?” he asked. On the bishop assenting he continued; “Yer can’t sprinkle that kid till you and me has had a fight, parson ” The unfortunate parson protested, but finding p.-otest useless, “stood up” to Jim. The battle went for the bishop, and Jim pulling himself from the floor muttered, “He’s the parson for me." The baptism was proceeded with, and, as the story goes, Jim took to church-going from that day.

Punishment tor Slander.

In the kingdom of Poland there was formerly a law according to which any person found guilty oi slander was compelled to walk on all fours through the streets of the town where he lived, accompanied by the beadle, as a sign that he was unworthy of the name of man.

Skill Barbers.

Id India the (*tive barber will shave you when atleep without waking you, so light is his touch.

COOL SUMMER SUITS.

DRESSES ADAPTED TO TORRID WEATHER. The Summer Girl Has Formidable Rivals In the Xounc Married Woman and the Stylish Young Widow—Charming Style* and Striking Simplicity. Gotham Fashion Gossip. New Tork correspondence:

SUMMEB poets and seaside correspondents have great difficulty this season fl in describing the ' j dresses worn by the / ultra-fashiona b 1 e s V on acoount of the delicate colors —indefinite in tone and impossible in classify fleation. One must be an expert to give B|v\ names to what is ||jvl called a “faded nWVI pinkish flesh tint,” (•aw a “faded crushed l raspberry,” or to \ distinguish between k silver, nickel or HR platinum drabs. L jE\ Greens and reds, wffgSwtoo, defy definition, and one is only ft' mystified to be told that a gown is an

“indefinite moss green.” However, some of the mdgt charming summer girls dress with simplicity, apparently being of the opinion that a pretty face and a graceful figure are the things that count in the gay empire of modes. For instance, I see very stylish young girls wearing blue serge skirts with white blouses and colored ties and smull white sailor hats trimmed with ribbon to match the tie. In one case I noted a black skirt and white blouse set off with a blue tie, and in another a white serge skirt, blue blouse and white hat, trimmed with blue ribbon. Still anothor charming white serge gown had around the waist and around the bottom bias folds of dahlia red faille, edged with tiny ruches of black ribbon. The bodice was set off with a very small Henry II cloak of dahlia silk, just falling between the shoulders and hardly reaching the waist. The cloak was lined with white satin and edged with tiny black ruohing. The summer girl is not having it all her own way by any means. The voung married woman and the stylish young widow 7 both constitute very formidable rivals at times. The summer girl may toss her pretty head and affeot to despise these poachers on her fair domain, but the world gets tired of tinkling cymbals and shrill pipes, just as children tire of sweet cake and yearn for a big slice of plain bread and butter. You will find pictured in my initial one of those rather heavy and ornate gowns which make the soft and fluffy habiliments of the summer girl look somewhat cheap

MIDSUMMER STYLES.

and tawdry. The skirt Is elaborately embroidered with jet; in fact, I notice a frequent use of jet trimming on summer gowns, noth on light and heavy tissues. Even such thin material as grenadine is often trimmed with jet and ribbon, the jet ornaments being butterflies. The girl of this season has another nightmare which occasions her not a little trouble, and that Is the tiny maid of twelve or thirteen who Is taking her first lesson in coquetry. It seems ridiculous at first thought that she should fear such rivalry, but she knows the old saying that Time cures youth and sorrow, and even by the end of the season one of these little misses might become almost a full-fledged young lady. Airs and graces are like mushrooms—they spring up in a single night. Fashion is a genuine fairy queen, and she has only to touch the little country girl with her ■wand in order to transform her into a eity belle. My second illustration presents a pretty picture of summer life, and might be entitled, “Morning and Midday.” ft is a great consolation fora woman of fashion to feel that her scepter will not be suffered ta drop to the floor and tarnish with age, that a fair daughter will soon be able to pick it up and rule the same empire made glorious by her mother. This little princess may play with balls now, but how long will it be before she will toss men’s hearts and iaugh at their rebound? Here she is dressed in a plain little morning frock of ecru linen, set off with yoke, and epaulets of coarse guipure, while her mother wears a stylish blouse trimmed with embroidered galloon with belt and collar of moire ribbon, which on the neck forms a bow at the back. The

SUMMER TRAVELING DRESS

cuffs and bottom of the basque are ornamented with a small pleating. Tills blouse may be made up in almost any material and color to suit. As many make U6e of the summer months for traveling purposes, you will, no doubt, be glad to have me say a word about a very pretty traveling dress for a young person. You will find it shown

in my third picture. It consists of skirt, open jacket and blouse, the materials being lawn tennis woolen, cream foundation, striped with red and yellow, and Scotch plaid silk in which red predominates. The .blouse is belted in with a band of gold galloon, and the collar is also covered with the galloon. The jaoket hangs open and the skirt grazes the ground. Crepons are extremely modish for outdoor costumes, races, rowing and sports of all day. At Monmouth Park I saw a charming costume in fawn-coiored ctepon, yoke and cuffs of pink satin overlaid with guipure, with a black chip hat trimmed with black and pink. Blue serge is also seen at the races and outdoor fetes set off with bright-colored shirts. During August there will be a legion of garden and lawn parties given by those fortunato to have a lawn to meet upon and purses deep enough to pay for the expensive accessories. Theie will be an effort made to give plays In the op6n air, but I predict a failure if dependence be made upon amateur talent, for the summer girl has her head too full of frills, flounces, and furbelows to admit of committing a part to memory. She is an artiste; she never forgets her cues, never comes in at a wrong entrance or mars her business; she is so ready with her own lines that she stands in no need of other people’s, and she dresses her parts to perfection. She will be a great success at garden barties, I predict, but not in amateur plays on the green sward. She likes the winding paths and shrubbery, but most of her conversation is in stage whispers. My fourth illustration represents a very charming gown in gautred crepe in a shade of heliotrope, the stripes being

CREPE WITH GUIPURE YOKE.

velvety and reddish-brown. The yoke is of guipure of old laoo color, embroidered with gold. The dress must be lined with changeable taffeta, and there must be a balayouso. The corsuge hooks at the back. This is a very original and striking gown, bqt to bring out all its possibilities the draping must be artistically done, making ÜBe of a dress form for that purpose. White is everywhere, and especially at the raoes, with variations in ecru and creamy tones. 'As for the rage in scarlet and crimson, which was predicted early in the season on account of their success in the old world, it has not come, the reason no doubt being that with our almost tropical sun, the glare would be too trying, both to the wearer and the looker-on. I hsvo waited In vain, too, lor the red shoes and red silk stockings that were to be so much the fad at summer resorts, but August Is not here yet, and the fashionable girl may yet startle us with novelties. A week at a summer resort Is like a whole month in dull town life; men come and go, women appear and disappear, und It seems to you that you iinvo seen a generation pass, so many, and so varied are the faces, forms and fancies of people who frequent these places. At the seaside resorts in and about ihe metropolis ono sees so muny novolties as fairly to bewilder the senses, and the question suggests Itself, “Who is it that has the time, the patience, and the skill to invent, to oombine, to embellish in so muny countless varieties, for the same style of dress on twelve different women will present twelve different sohemes of garniture?" A charming seaside gown is shown in my last picture. It is in two colors of sergewhite, and any tone to suit the coloring of the wearer. The jacket und biaa

BRAIDED SERGE COSTUME.

band encircling the skirt are of white serge, the skirt being of the colored. The garniture is of a braided effect. The jacket has double fronts, the under reaching only to the waist and hooking in the middle; the upper fronts have no daris. In this costume white and mauve would go charmingly together. Mauve is very modish this season, or rather what they call mauve, which, however, Is not always the pale shade of violet that rightly goes by that name. Silk blouses clos ng In front with gilt buttons and made with turn-down collars exactly like the neglige shirts of the men, are worn by young girls who take pleasure in doing as their brothers do. With this blouse you wear a four-in-hand tie. In some cases this garment is made with an elastic go that the bouffant falls over the belt. If you wish to carry out the mascuilno conceit, you must wear over this blouse a long ja ket decidedly man fashion. Ti e jacket has no darts in front, and falls quite straight. Buttons, pockets and make-up are in strict conformity to masculine fashions. Such a costume looks very well in coarse green serge. It is quite noteworthy to what an extent feathers are worn this season, true, In nowise to ihe exclusion of flowers, but the decree seems t j exact that none but seasonable flowers shall be worn. Veils continue to be the subject of much thought. It Is no longer permissible to wrap your face up in any bit of gauze. The mouo of the moment calls for a very light and transparent veil, and of the same color as the hat. The pins, too, used to hold veils in place must not be the cheap product variety store,but the work of your ieweler. A won an’s toilet has been called a un'on of a thousand tribes, This may be so, but many of those trifles cost n oney, nowadays, and the womau of fashion fin s that her pin money gees literally for just what signifies. Copyright. MW.

A queen farmer ne v er want* * green house.

OUR CORN ABROAD.

THE SUCCESS OF TIIE AMERICAN MAIZE MISSIONARY. \ 1 Great Increase In the Exportation of Corn—“ Murphy Brod” lu Germany and Franco. The department of agriculture has issued an exhibit which cannot but be of exceeding interest throughout the country, being nothing less than a triumphant demonstration of the splendid success attained by the American corn missionary, Mr. Charles J. Murphy,in his work of popularizing maize as an article of food in Europe. A very practical evidence of what ho has achieved is the report of Mr. Walter E. Gardner, American consul at Rotterdam, Netherlands, to the effect that while during the first three months of 1801 the total importation of American corn art that port was only 07,738 bushels, the quantity brought in during a corresponding period of the present year was 0,308,000 bushels, most of which was transshipped to Germany. But the most striking and significant bit of evidence seut out with the department’s report is a red poster, one of those now employed for the decoration of Berlin and the information of the hungry masses of Deutschland. It is only two feet long by eighteen inches wide; but that is big in tho old world, where the economy iu use of paper is such that even theatrical show bills and circus ]M)sters are customarily of modest size. At its head the American eagle is depicted in the act of screaming. Then 'ollows in largo letters;

MURPHY BROD (2-3 Roggeu, 1-8 Mais) 5 Pfund 00 Pfennige. Fruhcrer Preis fur 8 Pfund 50 Pf. Succeeding are announcements of G. Muller’s big bakery, with its four branches, in Berlin, at which tho “Murphy brod” is obtainable. Putting into plain English the facts llerr Muller thus presents to his countrymen, ho offers for sixty pfennige (about fifteen cents) a quantity of bread, composed of twothirds rye und one-third corn flour, for which, at the rate charged previously for rye bread, 8 i pfennige (nearly twenty-one cents), would have been demanded. A reduction of a little over a cfent on each pound of broad ho consumes means a great deal to the Gorman workingman, particularly whon ho learns, us ho Rpocdfly will, that tho new and cheaper bread is more palatable swid nutritious than that to which ho has been accustomed. In Hamburg an American firm have gone into the business of supplying “Murphy brod" to the public, and their success has spread dismay among the conservative bakers who have antagonized the new flour. Wherever the indefatigable endeavors of Mr. Murphy have enabled the public to test atm prove the virtues of Indian corn lively appreciation of its desirabilty as a food has been demonstrated, and it is no longer admissible of question that through his enthusiastic efforts—primarily, simply, as u private individual, “because ho was that, sort of a crank,” and luter as an accredited ugcut of our Government—a wonderful impetus has been given to the world’s demand for one of our chief products. It is a fact not generally known that we devote an acreage to corn growing exceeding the aggregate urea devoted to all otlier corials and potatoes, double that cut for hay, and greater than all upon which wheat, oats and cotton are cultivated. Even in the eleven cotton growing states a larger area of cultivated land is devoted to corn and to cotton. Tho acreage now planted in corn annually, ocpbrding to the statistics of the department of agriculture, “is greater than the total surface area of New England, New York and New Jersey combined; greater than the whole arcu ol the United Kingdom or of Belgium, Holland, Switzerland, Denmark, Portugal and Greece combined. It more than equals in extent the total cultivated land in Franca or Germany or Austria-Hungary, and is three-fourths os largo as the aggregate acreage sown to wheat in all the countries of Europe together.” About 90 per cent, of this enormous production is annuully consumed in the country, more than 80 per cent, never crosses the lines of the country where it Is grown, and not only is it a leading staple for the food of man and beast, but on the broad prairies of the West where wood is scarce vast quantities of ft have been consumed as fuel. Our production of corn since 1808 has averaged 1,455,998,094 bushels per annum, and Dur average exportation has been only f«8 per cent, up to the present year. Not only in quantity but in quality does ur corn lead the world. Inferior maize of unpalatable sorts is grown in Italy, Spain and parts of France, and there is also Ilanubian corn, (it only for chicken feed, but the United States monopolizes the supply of this cereal fit for fiuman consumption. Hungary, Russia, India and the Argentine Republic may compete with our wheat crop, but American corn has practically no rivals. Hence nothin be of much greater importance in Ihe line of developing the value of our resources than such work as Mr. Murphy has been doing. In the language of Secretary Rusk, “ Could we jeeure an advance of even five cents a bushel on an average for corn during the ensuing decade, which might well be done and still enable us to supply the foreign demand at a price far below that of other cereal foods of equal value, the result would be to add $1,000,000,000 to the value of this crop during that period.”

Some Dangerous Pets.

Lieutenant Becker of the Austrian Polar expedition, tells a story of q sailor who tried to tame two young white bears, not much bigger than lap dogs, and got so fond of them that he even took them to bed in cold weather, till one night his comrades were awakened by loud shrieks and the complaint that one of hia E‘ i had bitten two of his toes off. An uimau pilot, in commenting on the dent, remarked that the little brutes can never be trusted after they have grown stout enough to bite through a man’s clothes. But with that single exception, specimens of every kind of carnivorous mammals have been tamed sufficiently to recognize the authority of their master, and to be domesticated, if not handled with impunity. Seleucus Nicator, the King of Syria, used to drive a four-in-hand team of tame tigers, and the Nabob of Oude had a pet she tiger that often was taken along on hia journeys and had been taught to mount an elephant without making use of her formidable claws. Lions have frequently been tamed by showmen, and sometimes even for military purposes. During the reign of the Emperor Trajan, a Roman general, on an expedition against a revolted province

on the north shore or the Adriatic, tried the plan of scaring the natives with • brigade of trained lions, but found that in warfare the ignorance of plucky barbarians is not always a disadvantage. “They mistook them for large dogs,” says the historian, “and knocked their brains out.” —[San Francisco Chronicle.

LOSS OF LIFE AT SEA. There Has Been a Great Falling Off in Recent Years. Much is written on the question Oi lives lost at sea, and though we do not wish to check the zenl of men who have done noble service in safeguarding our sailors from the practices resorted to in the past by rapacious ship owners, we think the great improvement of recent years is too often ignored and the tendency to over-lcgislate very great. In ten years the number of lives lost has decreased by nearly one-half, and when it is noted that the British fleet has in that period increased from 81-2 to 9.08 million tons this result is even more favorable. Our sailing ships are being improved in design, so as the better to withstand great storms, and the adoption of steel minimizes the danger of stranding. The small old wooden vessels are disappearing at the rate of about 1,000 a year. These facts indicate a cause why the proportion of lives lost to the total tonnage entering and clearing our ports has decreased from 4.17 per 100,000 tons in 1881 to 200 iu 1890. This represents a decrease according to tonnage of ouehftlf. In tho case of steamers the increase iu traffic is equal to 43.0 per cent., and yet there is a decrease iu the number of lives lost of 28 per cent. In other woids, the lives lost were equal to 0.57 per 100,000 tons of i tcamers frequenting our ports in 1881, und in 1890 0.41 per 100,000 tons. In 1882 the ratio was 1.05, aud in 1880 0.10 per 100,000 tons. These were the highest and lowest in tho decade, and indicate the possibilties of great flucuations duo to extraordinary disasters. The tendency, however, is toward a substantial decrease. In ten years the deaths among masters and seamen from all enuses decreased from 28.2 per 1,000 employed to 18.1 per 1,000. —[Engineering.

The Rattlesnake’s Tall The structure from which the rattlesnake takes his name—the rattle—consists mainly of three or more solid, horny rings, placed around the end of the tail. Those rings themselves are merely dense Eortians of the general outer skin of tho ody, but the rattle has also a solid foundation of bone. For the three last bones of the tail become united together in one • solid hole or core, grooved where tho bones join, while they Increase in size toward tho hinder end of tho complex bone thus formed. This bony core is invested by skin also marked by grooves, which correspond with those at tho junctions of tho throe bones, and this skin becomes much thickened and so forms an incipient., imperfect rattle of such young snakes as have not yet cast their skin. When it is east the skfn investing tho tail close to its termination is not oust off, but is held fast by tho enlarged end of tho bony core before mentioned. Tins price of skin thus retained becomes a loose ring in front of the incipient rattle, and thus forms a first joint or of the future perfect rattle. The same process is repeated at each molt, a fresh loose ring or additional joint to tho perfect rattle being thus formed every time the skin is shed, Thus the perfect rattle comes ultimately to consist of a number of dry, hard, more or less loose, horny rings and in this way a rattle may consist of as inuny as twenty-one coexisting rattling rings. It is the shaking of theso rings by a violent and rapid wugging of the end of the snake’s tail which produces the celebrated rattling sound—a sound which may be compared to the rattling of a number of peas in a rapidly shaken paper bag.—[Quarterly Review. How Hone Flesh Taste*. “You never ate horse flesh,l suppose,” said Lieutenant Russell of the Seventh United States Cavalry at the Southern. “I have seen the time when I ate it with genuine relish, and that, too, without any salt. It was in 1877, during Genera! Miles’ NczPercescampaign, vVe had followed the renegades up the Missouri to its confluence with the Yellowstone, and tho chase was so exciting that we didn’t realize how low ous larder was getting until it was drained, and we were getting too far away from the base of supplies to replenish it. The game had all been driven out of the country ahead of us by the fleeing Indians, and when we finally caught up witli the redskins, and forced them to nght, we had almost nothing to eat for several days. We captured about seven hundred ponies from the Indians, some of them so round, and sleek and fat as to appear to us the finest meat in the world. Our butchers killed the youngest and fattest of the ponies that night after the battle, and as soon as they were skinned and dressed, we had a feast that would have made Lucullus turn green with envy. We lived on this pony meat several days. It was cooked without salt, and roasted over a spit, like a barbecued beef. The meat had a peculiar sweet taste, not at all nalateable, when I think of it now, and it was so fibrous that we could pull it apart in great strings. But it kept us from starving, and I, therefore, can heartily recommend pony meat to people in dire strait*. ” [St. Louis Globe-Democrat. Six Chinese Feast Days. The first day of the Chinese New Yeaj’a feasts is called “Bird’s Day” (Kay Yat), and is supposed to bring to mind't.he utility of the feathered tribes as food. On this day all orthodox Chinese abstain from eating flesh, and they sometimes observe it as a day of fasting. The second day is “Dog’s Day” (Ku-Yat). This day is especially held sacred to the canine hosts of the ‘Flowery Kingdom. The Chinese, notwithstanding the fact that they eat the flesh of the dog and esteem it a great delicacy, honor their dog* more highly and take better care of them than any other race of people. In every large Chinese city there is a workman whose sole trade is that of making coffins for departed canines. The third day, Hog’s Day (Chen-Yat), is celebrated in honor of a hog that once drew a valuable manuscript out of a bonfire of trash. The fourth feast, Sheep’s Day (Yaong-Yat), is honored in memory of Pun-Koon-Venga, a shepherd who clothed himself in leaves, grass and bark of trees, refusing to make use of any part of the sheep, either for food or clothing. The fifth day is Cow’s Day (New Yat). This day is consecrated to the cow that suckled the orphan who afterward* be- 1 came rich and built the celebrated “Temple of Cows.” The sixth day is Ma-Yat, > or Horse Day, and is set apart to call ta _ mind the usefulness of that noble animal. v ‘ Milwaukee’s grain trade has increased wo» derfully.