Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 February 1893 — Page 4

THE OLD WIFE.

By the bed the n'«l ma waiting, sat in vigil sad and tender. Where his aged wife lay dying; and the twilight shadows brown glowly from the wall and window chased the sunset's golden splendor Goiug down. “It is i ight!” she whispered, waking, (for her spirit see me 1 to hover Lost between the next world's sunrise and the bedtim) cares of this), And the old man, weak and tearful, trembling as he bent above her Answvi-ed, “Yes.” ‘■Ate the children in!” she asked him. Could he tell her? All the tnasures Of their household lay in silence many jears beneath tbe snow; But her heart wac with them living, back among her toils and pi asnres. Long ag i. And agiin she called at dew-fall, in the swea old summer weathe - ', “Where is Itttle Charlie, father? Frank and Robert—have they come?” “They are s-fe,” the old man faltered—“all the children are together, Safe at horn?.” Then he murmured gentle soothiogs, but his grief grew strong and stron,er, Till it choked and stilled him as he held tnd kissed her wriukled hand, For her soul, far out of hearing, could his fondest words no longer Understand. Still the pale lips stammered questions, lul.'ab os, and brokeu verses, Nursery prattle—i ll the lauguage of a mother’s loving heeds, While the midnight round the mourner, left to sorrow's hitter mercies, \V rapped its weeds. There was stillness on the pillow—and theo d man listened lonely— Till they led him from the clumber, with the bur Jen on his breast, For the wife of seventy years, his manhood’s early Eve and only. Lay at rest. “Fare you well,” he sobbed, “my Sarah; you will me.t the babeß before me; ■Tis a i ttle while, - tor neither can the part ng long abide, And you’ll come rnd call me soon, I k on and heaven will restore me To your side.” —[Brandon Banner.

A REGISTERED LETTER.

(SROM TIIE FUESCn .) “A wild night, Marcaille,” said the postmistress to the letter-carrier who had just come in. “Wild, indeed, Madame Lefevre,” replied Marcaille, “ ’twill be bad going to the midnight mass.” As he spoke, he shook out his old cloak all white with snow, while the postmistress sorted the letters. “There! that is done,” she said. “But warm yourself before you start onfc.” Marcaille threw down his leather bag black and shiny in spots, and came close to the roaring stove. Me was a little, wiry, tough-looking man. His face, browned by sun and wind, was as wrinkled as an old apple. His nose was a thought too red, his eyes sparkled, his mouth was smiling; it was a good face that called forth friendly words and cordial haudgrasps. His mustache had a military ferocity, and on his blue blouse with its red collar a worn scrap of yellow and green ribbon told all his past—drawn in the draft, seven years of service, re-enlisted, petty officer, wounded at Alma, wounded at Solferino, honorably discharged. Then Marcaille had-been given the place of postman on the Champaghole route —400 francs a year, pension of 100 francs, making a total of 500 francs. And for ten years, for 500 francs, Mardiite made twice a day, morning and eveving, his round—Cize, Philemoine, lo Vaudoux, Chatelneuf, Maisotineuve and Biaac, a circuit of seven leagues in all weathers. With his 500 francs lie took care of a wife and four children; the eldest was six. But Marcaille had acquired the bad habit of a little “taste,” as he called it. In every village he had old acquaintances, almost friends. In every house he found, in exchange for the letter lie brought, a glass of wine, that seemed to him to put strength into his heart and liis kg*. llis nose grew a little redder; it even happened once that he had lost a letter, not a very important one fortunately, but it might have taught him a lesson. “Here they are, Marcaille,” said Madame Lefevre, “two letters for Cize, one lor Pillemoine, one for le Yaudioux—nothing forChatelneuf.” “That's good,” said Marcaille. That “nothing for Chatelnauf” spared him a league and a half of rough walking. “For Siane.” went on Madame Lefevre; “pay attention! A registered letter.”

“It is not the first.” “No. but ” and Madame held up a great envelope, bristling with stampsund notices, beside which spread out, like blots of blood, five enormous red seals. “ That’s worth caring for,” said Marcaille, laughing. “Whose is it ? ” “For monsieur, the Mayor.” “ Well, it will go through his hands, never fear.” “ Not any more than through yours,” said madame. “ No, but more of it will stick to his.” With this philosophic reflection, Marcailie dropped the letter into his leather tag, which he buckled carefully. He put on his cloak and opened the door. “And above all,” cried madame after him, “ don't begin Christmas eve too soon 1 ” “ Don’t be afraid! ” and Marcaille was in a moment out of sight. The cold pinched sharply; the piercing wind blew up little whirlpools of fine, dry snow. Marcaille jogged along briskly, muttering: “Not much Christmas I A mouthful for six and a glass of water ! But, after all, there are those who have nothing.” Hullo, Marcaille ! ” cried suddenly a rough voice. Marcaille turned. “A glass of wine?” said the voiefe. “Hmn,” grumbled Marcaille to himself, “attention, registered letter!” Then, •loud, “ I’m late now; no, thank you!” The window of the “Pineapple” public house, which had opened, closed again, and Marcaille, proud of the victory over himself, went whistling out of the village. This was indeed courage. To refuse a glass of wine in such weather, when he had still three good leagues up the mountain before him. But how light he felt when he proudly resumed his jams*. He felt light, but his bag asamed heavier than ever. Never had it weighed so upon his shoulders. “This rascally bag," be grumbled.

“It Is that letter. What can be in It? If it should be bank-notes, judged by the weight, there should be a fortune. This rascally bag!” And still grumbling, “The rascally bag!” and whistling at intervals, he went down toward Pillemoine. Below him stretched the valley, lost in the shadow, dotted here and there with lights, for the night was almost black. But he knew every village and every house, and in the blackness he recognized far away the house of the ironmaster, with every window lighted up. The joyous scene “Yes, yes,” murmured Marcaille. “There are some lucky people iu the world. They have money, all they want, and with money one can do 'anything. Just get a little ami it's like a snowball, it rolls up bigger and bigger. Some have all and others have none. There they are by the tire, and I, out here in the snow. And what they spend for thair amusement to-night I couldn’t earn iu a year. And yet they say God is just!” Why did these ideas come to him? He had never envied any one. Why then did he stop and gaze fiercely at the lights shinning below him? He shook himself together. “Forward, Marcaille,” he cried, “forward, march.” But the wind whistled and moaned in the pine trees like a crying baby, and Marcaille passing iu thought from the ironmaster’s house to his own, saw his four little ones gathered around their mother, by a scanty tire of fagots; he saw them searching iu the cupboard for a forgotten bread-crust; he saw them going to sleep, all four on the same little wretched straw mattress. Oh 1 poverty, poverty, it is hard 1 And to think that light here, iu his bag “.Registered letter!” lie thought. “If it should be bank bills! Imbecile! It is for the Mayor. It comes from the prefecture. It is probably only papers and they register it and put on tiiese big seals for a grand effect. Yes, but—if it should be bauk bills!” His face flushed red at the thought that had crossed his mind. “I haven’t drunk anything either,” he murmured, with a shudder. He eutered Pillemoine. At the door of a peasant’s house he knocked. A window opened. “Oh! It is Marcaille. Come in!” lie went in. “What ails you?” asked the man. “You’re pale. Have a glass of wine.” “No, no, thanks.” said Marcaille, iu a dull voice. Iu rebuckling his bag he had felt the registered letter brush the tips of Iris Augers. The mau had taken a glass, he held the bottle all ready to pour. “No," repeated Marcaille. And without another word lie hurried out. The cuds of his fingers seemed to burn at the remembrance of the red seals. Bauk bills, as many as there were there, how many things one could buy witli them! lie began to whistle, his breath failed him and he felt his legs tremble benenth him. Without intending to, without wishing to, he had unbuckled the bag, he had taken out the letter and iu the half-light reflected from the suow he saw, like drops of blood, the live great red seals.

Quickly he took the letter and felt it carefvlly to find out its secret. But the envelope was thick and hard; the paper crackled under his lingers with a little dry noise tbqt sounded formidably loud, while the night wind whistled in his ears: “Thief! thief! thief!” “Who said Marcaille was a thief?” he cried, with a fierce gesture. Then, seeing that he was alone, he came to himself and fell at the side of the road, crouching, his head in his hands, and murmuring; “This is frightful 1 But I have drunk nothing.” Slowly he re-opened the leather bag and slipped in the letter; slowly he rose; slowly still he crossed the road. It seemed as if an implacable, invisible band held him fast to this spot from which he would have hurried away. The road to Siane was straight before him; a half hour more and he should have finished his round, the letter would be given to the Mayor and he would be safe. Then he put the letter back in the bag with an angry gesture, and inarched on with a measured step, striking with his heel and counting as he used to do in the regiment when the march was long, “One, two; one, two.” The regiment 1 Ah 1 how far away it was at that time. How poor they seemed to him uow, the brave joys of the soldier, which had made his heartbeat for fourteen years. What a fool he was to enlist 1 Fighting in the field, hard fare in the camp, suffering in the ambulance. His medal! Great things indeed. A bit of ribbon on his blouse. How much better he would have done to start out, like his brother, to seek his fortune.

“It was by this road he went,” t hought Marcaille, as he started across the great road to Geneva, whose white length to his right stretched along by the forest of Siane, “by this road.” That long white road, he had only to travel along it—and he stopped, “The frontier,” hethonght, “is quite near. Ten leagues, what is that ? Taking time to go for the wife and babies, one could be there to-morrow morning. And once there, one is safe. The Mayor is not expecting this letter. If people missed us to-morrow, they would think something had happened to me in the night, that I had fallen into a hole or something, and that my wife was looking for me. Suspect me f Oh! no. Marcaille is an honest man, an honest man !’* The sweat stood on his brow. Panting, with his eyes fixed on that white line which lost itself iu the night, he repeated in a low voice, “ An honest man.” His hand slipped under his cloak, unbuckled the leather bag, and trembled as it touched the fiw» reu seuls. “Yes; but if I were wrong,” he muttered; “if there were only papers in it.” “Come, Marcaille,” he cried, “on with you! ” But no, he remained there motionless on that cursed road that led to the frontier. And for the third time, carried away by irresistible temptation, he drew from the bag the registered letter, saying: “ I must know what is in it.” Very cheerfully with the point of his knife he raised one corner of the envelope enough to slip in his finger, and draw up one of the papers it contained. The task was a delicate one, he must go slowly, very slowly, in order to tear nothing. If it were only papers! The night-wind whistled in his ears, “Thief ! thief ! thief !” But he did not hear it. He thought only of one thing, to know what was iu that letter. He had only one fear, of not succeeding or of deceiving himself. At last he got hold of a corner of the inclosure, lie took a match, lit it, and by iU light saw—a bank note. It was really, bank notes. His head swam. The envelop*) was heavv, the sum must be enormou lie was shouts.

to tear ft open to count It, bat agali. be stopped. “Let me see, let me see,” he thought, “I need not hurry. I must plan oul everything. A trifle spoils all sometimes. I will go home. I will tell Genevieve tint we are going away. Sho will begin to ask questions. She will want to know everything. Bali! I will make up a story. I will tell her but shu will not believe me. Would she consent? Yes, yes, she must. To be rich, isn’t that before everything? Are there not hundreds and thousands whom all the world bows down to, who begun jurt this way? Not to be caught, that is all. We will put the babies into the little cart. By daybreak we will be at the frontier. The gendarmes? Weil, don't the gendarmes know me? Don't they know that ' Marcaille is an honest man?” He folded the registered letter, and •instead of replacing it in the leather bag, slipped it into his pocket. It was his. T hen with a strident voice he cried out, “Forward, Marcaille, forward! you are a rich mau.” But he had hardly taken a step forward when his voice died in his throat. Behind him on the road he had just left, he heard voices, clear aud piercing. It was like the indistinct murmur of a crowd. “Christmas?” cried the voices. “Thief?” replied the sombre depths of the forest. Terrified, he tried to leave the voices behind him, running faster and still faster. Aud then a dizziness seized him. He knew not why he inn. Some one was after him, that was all. But who? His conscience or the gendarmes, he knew not which. Where was the danger! Everywhere. In the shadows, to the right and to the left, he saw everywhere vague forms whicli followed him; the branches bent low over his head like arms to stop him. Terror at all these strange visions strangled him. Wildly he ran along, the blood throbbing in bis temples; then suddenly fell heavily in a dead faint. * * * » * * When he came to himself, he was lying before the tire in his own room. Genevieve and the children were kneeling crying around him. He did not see them. The people of Siane, who, coming from the midnight mass, had found him, were there also, lie did not see them. “The lettei 1 the letter!” he cried. With one bound he sprang to the leathei bag, which had been thrown on the ground in a corner. It was empty. “The letter! the letter!” he cried, Then he remembered, nud drawing from his pocket the big envelope with the five red seals—still unbroken—he rushed out like a madman straight to the Mayor's.

“A registered letter!” he cried. “Oli! indeed,” said the Mayor, laughing, “What a state you are in. One would think you had come to ask pardon for a condemned criminal.” “Well they might,” said Marcaille, “But take the letter first. It is a little soiled—l fell down—l—l” His lie strangled him. “A drop too much,” said the Mayor. “No, I had drunk nothing,” said Marcaille quietly, “and it is just for that reason that 1 have brought you my resignation.” The Mayor had broken the seals, examined the bank notes and glanced over the accompanying letter. “ Your resignation?” said he. “Well, I should think so-1 can understand that.” “Ah 1 you know ” “I know you are rich, my good fellow.” Was this a joke? or had- the Mayor in some way looked into his conscience and read the whole story ? Marcaille became pale at tbe thought. “Rich?” be murmured. * ’Why, yes, there is no doubt about that. This letter tells me of the death of your brother, Jean Marcaille, who died at Toulouse, where he resided, on the Bth of this preseet mouth. According to his last wishes all he possessed lias been disposed of by Michael Dulac, notary of that city, who sends to me the amount of twenty-four thousand francs, which I am instructed to turn over to you.” “Ah!” said Marcaille, overwhelmed, as he took mechanically intohishand the big envelope that the Mayor offered him, “ Jean indeed, and lam rich ? ” • Then after a moment of silence, “it makes no difference,” he murmured, so low that the Mayor could not hear him, “ I should have been a thief, just the same.” Then turning he added, loud enough this time. “ But I am still au honest man, thank God!” “ No one ever doubted it, Marcaille,” said the Mayor. “But take my advice and be more careful. A glass of wine too much goes to your head, and you might fare worse another time.” “ You are right, sir,” said Marcaille, and he went off whistling, with his head in the air. Was Marcaille an honest man? I should say, yes!

Would Make a Straight River.

“A Southern Engineer,” in the Engineering Magazine, says that the only solution of the Mississippi River problem, “at once scientific and sensible,” is to give it a straight channel from Cairo to the Gulf, and thinks it a wonder that the “demands of navigation alone have not already compelled this kind of improvement.” He admits that in such a channel that the river would have nearly twice its present velocity, and if he had stopped to think a minute he would have seen that the demands of navigation do not call for any such current. Five miles an hour, which is somewhere near the present rate of the current, is a good strong tide for any ordinary steamboat to stem, and there are many places in the river now where a boat has to hug the shore to make any headway at all, and if the current was increased to ten miles an hour there is not a boat on the river that could get from here to Baton Rouge. Furthermore, with such a current the corroding power of the stream would be enormously increased, and the slightest deflection of the current towards either bank would speedily eat into it and restore the bends which had been gotten rid of. If the channel of the river could be made as straight as a string, an utterly impossible feat, nothing could keep it there but massive dykes of solid masonry reaching to the bottom of the stream on either side, and it is a question how long they would stand. "Southern Engineer’s” solution looks very well on paper, but so far from being either sensible or scientific, it is absurd. —[New Orleans Picayune. * The physicians in Mexico who have been endeavoring to cure typhus fever by administering cooked spiders, have succeeded in killing their patients and at the same time advertising the almost incredibly low degree of civilization prevailing in that country.

HAWAII.

TIMELY FACTS ABOUT THIS KINGDOM AND ITS PEOPLE. Location or the Sandwich Islands— Their Inhabitants and ltulers—Queen LtUoukalaul aud Her Palace. The kingdom of Hawaii is about &s large us New Jersey and lias a population as large as that of Hoboken. The area of the Hawaiian or Sandwich Islands is 7,029 square miles. The area of New Jersey is 8,320 square miles. The population of the little kingdom which lias just beeu turned topsy-turvy is about 80,000. The population of Hoboken is about the same. Queen Lilioukalani ruled over about as many people as does the Mayor of Hoboken. The twelve beautiful islands of Hawaii lie in the Pacific Ocean, on a line between Mexico and China. They are 2,100 miles southwest of San Francisco, aud it requires only four days’ voyage on a fast steamship to reach them. 'They extend in a line 3)0 miles long from northeast to southwest. Eight of them are inhabited, and the others are s.nali islets and uninhabited. When the adventurous Captain Cook discovered the islands a century ago they had a population of 300,0J0 healthy and happy pagans. These have been civilized off the face of the earth till there are only 35,003 pure natives left. They are of a bronze brown, aud have black straight hair. Some of the men are almost giants, and much exceed Europeans iu stature. Excessive fatness, as in some parts of Africa, is considered beautiful, and native women who are inclined to embonpoint are much admired. The natives are not Africans aud not Malays. They belong to the Polynesian race, and are cousins, so to speak, of the inhabitants of New Zealand and Samoa. Five thousand miles of sea lies between Hawaii and New Zealand, but the two peoples can understand each other. The musical Hawaiian speech may become the language of American opera. ‘ It has twice as many vowel sounds as Italian. The Queen who has lost her throne is Queen Lilloukaiaui. That is her Sandwich Island name. Her everyday name was Princess Lydia. Her neighbors who didn’t like her called her “Mrs. Dominis.” One day there came to the Sandwich laiands a gay sailor hoy of the name of John O. Dominis. He fell in love with the Island princess, who was heir to the throne, aud liis suit was so successful that he married her. He never furled any more sails on a ship, and was known as the Prince Consort. Only four years ago Prince Dominis was walking on Broadway, having come to New Y’ork with Queen Kapiolaui,who was on her way to attend Queen Victoria’s golden jubilee. He died a short time ago, and the widowed Queen Lilioukalam is now in mourning for him. She is a cultivated Hawaiian woman. She speaks English, is a promoter of charity fairs, aud gives a garden party once a month to tourists. She is assisted to receive by the standing army, the members of the House of Nobles and the Hawaiian brass band. The standing army of the Sandwich Islands is a force of about 150 men. divided into the “Queen’s Own Guard,” the “Household Troops,” and the “soldiers of the line.” Connected with the palace is a “gilded chariot of state,” and ull the machinery for being a monarch. The-palace is a beautiful building, and contains forty rooms. It stands in the capital, Honolulu, is three stories high, and is built of concrete. It contains costly gifts from the kings of Europe and the princes of Asia. It measures somewhat the progress of the Hawaiian Islands that, though the Queen’s ancestors were cannibals in the last century, the palace contains a library and a music room. In the throne room is the worldfamous yellow feather cloak.

There is a beautiful bird on the Sandwich Islands which has under each wing a small tuft of golden feathers. King Kamehamelm I. wanted to be a swell in the Pacific Ocean, and he had a warcloak made of these feathers. To measure it like a sealskin sacque, this goldenfeather cloak was forty-eight inches long and 138 inches wide at the bottom. It was one of the biggest tailoring jobs on record. It took nine reigns to make it. Forests of birds furnished its golden feathers. It is the only cloak of the kind in the world. Kamehameha I. was the Sandwich Is and Julius Caesar, am. he wanted to have a mantle worthy of his greatness. Everybody remembers when that merry sovereign, Kiug Kalukaua, ruled the Sandwich Islands. He was a king, but he was ns happy as a serving-man in a tap room. The king was an expert at draw-poker. According to all accounts, he could have given “Hungry Joe” points on the gentle art of “bunco,’’and kid Miller could have gone to school to him with profit. It is said ,that he “buncoed” a Chinaman out of’ 150,000 in a few hours. His brother would have succeded him on the throne had he not died in April, 1877. His brother’s daughter, Princess Lilioukalani, then became heir apparent. King Kalnkaua died in San Francisco in 1891, and’on January 19 of that year the Princess was crowned. She is past fiftv years of age. The present heir-apparent is her niece, Her Royal Highness Princess Kawehiu-Kaiulani-Lunalilo-Kalaninuia-Kalapalapa, who is now studying French, music, etc., in Europe.

Charlemagne and the Two Irish Scholars.

Entering the old Cathedral of Aachen, or Aix-la-Chapelle, you will be shown the great marble chair in which, cold as marble, Charlemagne sat enthroned, sceptre in hand, robed in Imperial purple, ana with diadem on brow, dead. So he sat when, a century and a half later, Otho and his riotous courtiers broke open the vault and stood sobered and appalled before the majesty of death. On that same chair he sat. in similar apparel, but with the light of life in his eyes, the new Augustus of a new Empire, when two Irish wanderers were brought before him In the streets of the city in which he hoped to revive the glory of Athens and the greatness of Rome, they had been heard to cry out—“ Whoso wants wisdom let him come to us and receive it for we have it for sale.” Their terms are not onerous—food and raiment. Their claims stood the test.One, Albinus, was sped to Pavia, in Italy; the other, Clement, had the high honor of superseding the learned AngloSaxon Alcuiu in the Palatine school of the Imperial city. Here he taught the tritium and ouatlrivium —grammar, rhetoric, dialectic, and arithemitic, music, geometry,' and astronomy—the seven arts. In his school sat Charlemagne, under the school name of David, the members of his family each under an

academic name, and with these the members of the Cortege, the Palatines and the Paladines, destined to power and feata of fume. The teaching of the Irish Professors here must have had considerable influence on the literature ythich afterwards took its heroes from their scholars. Their authority was enhanced by the fact that Charlemagne himself worked with his Irish professors at a revision of the Gospels on the Greek and on the Syruie text.—[Contemporary Review.

A Herd of Crickets.

“Yes, cold weather is mighty hard on py'cricket herd,” said Afton K. Wooten of Greenfield. Tenn. “>ly erieket herd? Why, haven't you read about it? It was printed in The Republic last spring, just about the time 1 started in the industry. You see, I live in the middle of Tennessee, surrounded by the prettiest lakes the eye ever gazed upon. The waters are tilled with trout and other game fish, and in the spring, summer and fall the Nirarods flock there from all sections of the country. One of the most curious facts about Tennessee fish is that they will eat nothing but crickets. Red worms, sawyers and the like find no fish that will bite at them in our waters except suckers and small perch. The most serious obstacle, therefore, with the fishermen is to get crickets. I organized a stock compauy with a few hundred capital and started to work last spring. I had a huge pasture fenced in with boards about ten feet high, sowed grass, built my hothouses and incubators, and then began gathering in my stock. My pasture consists of about twelve acres, and I calculated that I could well graze 50.000 crickets to the acre. They sell readily to fishermen at $1 per hundred, so you see what a rich harvest there is in such an industry. They flourished like a green bay tree all during the summer and fall, but since the cold spell has reached them they have been dying off at a remnrkably sad rate, and if the freeze should continue much longer I doubt if I will be left with seed for next spring.”—[St. Louis Republic.

The Ferocious Carp.

The Lincoln News-Messenger suggests that the prevalent scarcity of wild ducks and geese this season in California, is partly due to the fact that carp have denuded the lakes, ponds and sloughs of plant life, to which the Wheatland Four Corners responds as follows: “The News-Messenger is no doubt right in the theory, for wc have heard that the residents along Plumas Lake and Feathers River complain of the carp. In some places they are as thick ns mudhens, and have a similar habit of making regular assaults upon the grain and pumpkin fields not farther distant than fifty miles from water. The carp is a carnivorous fish. We have known fishermen who have lost the soles of their shoes, and even now and then sacrificed a leg in answer to the carp's jaws, when they have been so negligent as to angle with their pedal extremities in juxtaposition to the water. Thousands of our hunting dogs of the choicest breeds can find their scalps on the watery girdle of the carp. "In connection with game, the carp has not been satisfied in robbing the fowls of their daily bread by mowing the fields for mijes around, but have taken extreme delight and solid comfort in grasping ducks by the right hand as they swam upon the water and inviting them into the carp’s parlor at the bottom of the stream. No doubt the carp is a great factor in the game question, and should he not receive a Congressional appropriation shortly he will come into greater prominence.”

Mr. Blaine’s Good Memory.

Senator Sawyer, of Wisconsin, told the following story, illustrating Mr. Blaine’s wonderful memory for names and faces: “In 1874, Mr. Blaiue made a speech in Wisconsin and he stopped with me. While he was there I gave a dinner in Mr. Blaine’s honor, to which I invited Mr, Myer, of Fond du Lac. In 1891, more than sixteen years afterwards Mr. Myer came here and I took him to call on Mr. Blaine. Before we got there we met Mr. Blaine. When we were within about forty feet of him he walked quickly forward nnd without hesitation said, ‘Air. C. L. J. Myer, how do you do?”’ A man who listened to Senator Sawyer’s story said: “I was with Mr. Blaiue when he visited Lancaster, 0., during a campaign. Air. Blaine had lived there and he got a great reception. He remembered ail the old residents. Finally some oue brought in a man whom they said lie would not remember. Mr. Blaine replied : “Yes, Ido; give me a little time.” Pretty soon he remarked to the man: “I never saw you but once.” and then he told this story: “When I was a boy there was great excitement one day because a convict had escaped from the Columbus Penitentiary aud had been tracked into that neighborhood. Police arrested him and Air. Blaine said he was one of the crowd around. The man was taken to a blacksmith’s shop and had fetters rivetted on him by the blacksmith. ‘You,’he said, turning to the man. ‘and I walked home to Lancaster together after that.’” [New Y. lk World.

How Coyotes Hunt Jackrabbits.

Ben Curley relates that while out on his recent deer-hunting trip he witnessed the manner in which coyotes catch a rabbit. He was sitting ou a pile of rock overlooking a little valley, possibly a mile across, stalking a drove of deer which was expected to issue through a narrow ravine nearby, when his attention was called to two little objects which dashed over the brow of the hill and into the valley'nearly a mile away. Looking through his field glass he discovered them to be coyotes in full chase of a jackrabbit. The rabbit was about fifty yards in the lead and was covering the earth as only a jackrabbit can, excepting a coyote. By and by one of the coyotes laid down. The other followed the fleeing hare, and in tue course of time succeeded in turning him back on his course toward the one lying down. When the rabbit w T as quite close this one raised up and took up chase, while the other laid down. The unfortunate rabbit was again successfully turned back, and the first coyote once more gave chase. The third time worked the charm, and bunny, conspicous only of the foe pursuing, passed so near his couching antagonist that he was seized.—[Nevada Stato Journal.

Every Seven Years.

Of course everybody knows that seven year* of bad luck may be expected by the unfortunate person who happens to break a mirror. There is a general belief with most people that the human body undergoes a complete and mysterious change every seven vears.—fNew York News. 1

HUGE GLOBE FOR THE FAIR.

An Accurate Model of the Earth, 63 Feet in Circumference. An interesting feature of the Governmental exhibit at the World's Fair will be a model of the earth, with all the geometrical accuracy that mechauismaud art can give to such a difficult representation. It is intended to form a part of the exhibit from the General Land Office of the Interior Department. So far as known, it is the largest globe ever constructed. It will surmount a star-shaped edifice, which pedestal will elevate the monster globe fifteen feet above the floor, so that it will rise above the surrounding exhibits of the Fish Commission aud Census Office. The latter, by the way, consists in a wall plastered with Mr. Porter’s unreliable figures of manufactures and population The pedestal for the gigantic globe will, with its ingenious construction, afford opportunity for the display of six big maps of the new States of Wyoming, Idaho. Montana, AVashiugton and the two Dakotas. The edifice may be entered through five doorways, to be artistically draped with flags, the arrangement' of which will have a significance beyond a mere blending of colors. No doorway, for instance, will be decorated with a combination of flags of rival nations. A circular apartment in the centre of the globe's pedestal will contain interesting tabulated statements of the condition of the public lands. The room will be fifteen feet in height, with a convex ceiling formed by the lower part of the globe. An interior stairway will afford access to a balcony around the base of the globe, which will be supported on a horizontal axis, turned by a small motor, instead of being placed at an angle of 674 degrees, as the world is actually hung in space. The globe is about C 3 feet in circumference, with a diameter of 20 feer,superficial area of 1,236 feet, and weight of 4,000 pounds. It will bear upon its surfaces representations of the land and water on a scale of 69 miles to 1} inches measured at the equator. The degrees of longitude and parallels of latitude are indicated, together with the zone lines, the isothermal lines, the principal steamship lines, and an appropriate tracing of the route of Columbus ou the voyage of 1492. The divisions of land, with the boundaries, even down to the provinces of countries and the location of the larger cities, and the direction of the rivers and streams are represented with fidelity. The globe will, ns stated, be supported on a horizontal axis, since that position affords a better view of the depiction on its surface than if it were tilted to the geometrically accurate aDgle. There will be very little to represent at the south pole beyond the vague lines of Graham’s Land. The apparatus for turning the globe will be placed at this end of the axis, and hidden from view by an immense representation of the official seal of the General Laud Office, which will serve as a screen, and lend significant decoration to an otherwise prosaic part of the globe. The General Laud Office exhibit was planued in .all of its details by Mr. A. L. Pitney of Washington, D. C., formerly a clerk in the Land Office. His experience in connection with the Centennial, New Orleans, and Paris Expositions, together with his known assiduity as a worker and ability in preparing Eovel and instructive exhibits, led to his being placed in charge of the Columbian exhibit of the General Land Office. The globe was designed, constructed, and is now being finished by Mr. Pitney. He has erected it in a building especially built to accommodate the great boll and to protect it from the weather during construction and decoration. Mr. Pitney has constructed a globe which can be taken apart and transported in sections. Its interior frame work is an ingenious but simple combination of girders aud struts supporting forty-eight sections, which are covered by a shell-like boarding, over which is securely stretched Scotch linen, upon which Mr. Pitney has painted, in distinct colors, a representation of the earth’s surface and the geographical divisions. The performances of Peary, Brainard, and the other arctic explorers are indicated by reproductions from the maps drawn by them. Mr. Pitney is working diligently to complete, by March l,the remaining artistic features of this globe, which has taken up a vast deal of his time already. He works far into the night under improvised gas jets which surround the globe like so many stars. In the course of his work he is obliged to consult the largest maps procurable. The scale on which the globe is based requires an enlargement of the maps which serve Mr. Pitney as a copy. Other features of the General Land Office exhibit will embrace paintings by Mr. Pitney, illustrative notably of mining in California and of the progress of locomotion in tfeis country. The latter is shown in an allegorical picture, which the artist calls “ a comparison of the carrying facilities of the United States.” The former pack animal, ox-wagons, canal-boat, and nine-ton five-mile-per-hour locomotive of 1829 are illustrated as retreating into the past, while rushing into the foreground of the picture, or the future, is a-mile-a-minute combination train, with its massive locomotive, its express car, its railway mail car, and attached Pullman coaches. The engineering feats of railroading are illustrated by a tunnel, from which the train is just emerging, and the curved bridge, which the train is just crossing. The maps of the six new States are not the only maps which will be shown, but they are particularly interesting on account of the manner of making and size, being the latest single sheet maps ever produced. They were drawn from the Land Office publications and are, notwithstanding their immense size, accurate in all details, and fine examples of the draughtsman’s skill. They were drawn by Mr. I. P. Berthrong and Mr. William Naylor, two gentlemen detailed from the Land Office to assist Mr. Pitney. Two very interesting features in addition to the maps and the paintings will be the reproduction, on a greatly enlarged scale, of a mineral patent and an agricultural patent. They will illustrate the documents in which so many public land holders are interested.

AROUND THE HOUSE.

A neat contrivance is a goblet-cover to keep the contents of a glass of medicine, for instance, from dust. It is made of a circular piece of cardboaad, covered on the upper side with a crochetted mat in white zephyr, with a loop in the centre by which to raise it. At last a satisfactory arrangement to kindle fires has been invented. It is clean, cheap and safe—three very important things. We are indebted to Yankee land for this clever contrivance, which is simply a case containing several bricks and is filled with kerosene. The bricks are made of some peculiarly porous clay that retains the oil for a long time, and which will ignite even hard coal without the aid of either wood or ]>aper. The bricks, of course, may be used over and over again.

THE BODY AND ITS HEALTH.

Sore Throat. —The milder forms ol sore throat are apt to be very common at this season of the year, because of the frequent changes of the weather, ■ sharp and chilly at times, with shrill north winds and damp, and relaxing again with soft snows.* The sudden changes also from a brisk outdoor air to stoveheated rooms are also pretty likely to produce irritation of the Far oat membranes, which, without being positively dangerous, may become so by neglect, and are in any case unpleasant enough to make a prompt remedy very desirable. For these cases, where no severer trouble is at the foundation, there are one or two remedies usually at hand and generally effective. Where the throat trouble arises from a common cold, such as may readily develop into quinsy, the simplest remedy is a gargle made of chlorate of potash and cold water. There is no danger of using too much potash in this form, as chlorate of potash is a drug which makes what chemists call a “saturated solution." Where the throat is very much irritated, the gargle should be used at least once an hour, or may be alternated with oldfashioned salt and pepper gargle, The familiar household rule for the latter is two teaspoonfuis of fine salt, two tablespoonfuls of vinegar and half a teaspoonful cayenne pepper, all dissolved in a quart of boiling water. It is a good plan to give some simple home remedies, which will produce perspiration, and also to keep the patient indoors for several days. As soon as such a cold is broken up a good tonic should be obtained from the family physician. All colds are now believed to come from a. degenerated condition of the system which in itself shows the need of a tonic.

Nerve Storms. —Megrim, if a functional disorder, like most other nervous, complaints depends generally upon some form of irritation. It is best regarded as a “nerve storm,” aud all its symptoms, are in reality due to nerve-action. The causes of megrim are numerous. Anything which lowers the tone of the system, anaemia, over-exertion tends to induce an attack. Over-fatigue of the muscles of the eyes, due to the unnatural strain experienced by them during a visit to a picture gallery, is a most efficient oause. Too long abstinence from food, especially missing a meal, over-rich or unaccustomed food, irregular habits, indigestion and constipation, produce gastric irritation, and consequently are immediate causes of megrim. The want of habitual regular exercise partly explains why women are so much more subject to this complaint than men, who (however sedentary their occupation) are generally obliged to spend a considerable time out of doors. There can be no doubt but that such games as lawntennis aud the gradual introduction of cycling as a relaxation for women have done much to provide them with necessary and attractive forms of exercise. In many cases, increased physical exertion has been followed by most satisfactory results. It is obvious that many of the causes of megrim are under the direct control of the sufferer, and if he deliberately transgresses the law he does so with the certainty of paying the penalty. Although the regular life which those subject to megrim ought to lead may be irksome at first, the relief from prostrating headaches is so intense that it more than counterbalances the temporary loss of enjoyment due to the self-denial of many pleasures, involving either undue excitement or interference with the routine of daily life. Hereditary is an important factor in the predisposition to megrim, and many members of the same family may suffer. There are, however, two other causes, apparently trivial and frequently neglected, but which are, nevertheless, very common. The first is an error of refraction,scausing astigmatism, and the megrim disappears when suitable glasses are supplied. 'The second cause is any constant form of irritation, as a decaying tooth, and as long as the irritation is allowed to continue so long will the attacks of megrim be frequent and severe.—[From “A Family Doctor,” in Cassell’s Family Magaziue.

Headache and hot wateb.— -As twothirds of a human being is composed of warm water, it is very natural to suppose that warm water must exercise’a very marked influence upon the system. Many jjersons have taken hot teas, hot herb drinks, and “hot stuff” in cases of sickness, when if the truth was known, it is possible that" simple hot water would have answered every purpose quite as effectively as the medicines which they thought were so efficac'ous. Pains are very frequently caused by congestion—too much blood in some particular place causes intense discomfort. Beating, hammering pains are frequently due to this cause, every heart-beat throwing in more blood, and so increasing the agony; and an extra spoonful cf blood in the brain might set a person crazy with pain. Usually when the aching head is gorged with blood, the feet anu hands are chilled, cold and shrunken, and any application of hot water to the hands or feet which will relax the blood vessels and so bring the blood away from these congested centers, is likely to relieve the distress. Nervous headache, or pains caused by overaction and overwork, will frequently be cured by laying bare the neck and leaning over a basin and pressing a towel or sponge wrung out of hot water on the back of the neck. By repeating this again and again, and rubbing the neck, and thorougly rubbing and sponging the base of the brain with hot water, and afterwards sponging and rubbing with cold water to avoid the danger wf taking cold, one will frequently bring ths blood to the surface and relieve the congestion and pain. Sleeplessness may often be remedied in the same manner; and then if a linen headcap can be wrung out of water, either cool or warm, and placed upon the head, the evaporation of the water will carry off the heat, the restlessness, and sleeplessness altogether. Bathing the face in hot Whter, and sponging over and over the temples, bathing the throat, and rubbing behind the ears with cloths dipped in hot water, and then cooling the whole with fresh water, will not only relieve suffering, but give the skin a healthful and beautiful appearance. So bathing tired eyes in hot water, and laying upon them cloths wrung out of water as hot as it can be borne, will frequently relieve distress and effect a permanent cure. There is probably no known remedy for la grippe so effective as the liberal use of hot water. If a person attacked with it, in almost any of its various forms, could drink plenty'of hot water, and go into a bath-tub of water as hot as he could bear it, remaining there ten or fifteen minutes, thoroughly rubbing the skin, and then cooling the water off gradually, to avoid the danger of taking cold, the results would be most favorable and comfortable. Most of our pains and miseries are the fruit of our own misdoings, and the remedy for them is usually much nearer than we imagine.—[The Safeguard. The full set of the Dew Columbian postage atAKje are Ufteen in number and coat lie.**.