Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 April 1893 — Page 4

THE ant as an engineer pistry was delicious, and I want, d it myself. Bo I pot it in the pantry on the very lowest shelf, And to keep it from the inserts, those arts so red and small, I made a river round it of molasses, best of aIL Bat the enemy app-o ched it, all as hungry as could be. And the captain with his aid-de-camp just skirmishing round to see Whether they could for l this river, or shoull try some other plan, And together with his comrades he around the liquid ran. ro his joy and satisfaction after traveling around, the place where the molasses was narrowest he found; rhen again he reconnoitored, rushing forward and then back, HU he spied som; loosened mortar in the wall arouud a tack. He divided then his forces, with a foreman for each 'squad. And he marshaled the whole army, and before him each ant trod; Hiadirections were all given; to his chiefi he give seal); While he headed the procession as they marched off up tne wall. Every ant then se zed his plaster, just a speck and nothing more, And he climb d and tugged and carried till he*d brought it to the shore; Then they built their bridge, just working for an hour by the sky, After which they all marched over and all fell to eating pie. —[St. Nicholas.

MAGGIE’S WEDDING GIFT.

BY AMELIA E. BARR.

“A man’s hat in his hand never did him any harm, Stephen, and I wish, dear, you had been a little more civil to Uncle Joseph.” “Nonsense, Maggie, darling. I don’t like Joseph Hawick and his ways, and I am not going to pretend 1 do.” “His ways are very good ways. No one can say wrong of Uncle Joseph, Stephen.” “That is just it; they are too good. I rather think lam old enough to know what lam doing, and what I want. I have a good farm, I don’t owe a penny, and I never mean to ask a favor except of you, or of my own hands. If I palavered over Joseph Hawick, he would be the very first to say I wanted the trifle of money he may have saved. ” Maggie sighed, and then looked up into btephen’s handsome face and smiled. Stephen, of course, was right; \ man with such eyes and such a figure could not, in love’s sight, be wrong. He was brave and confident, too, and had that way of assertion which only very cool and sensihle people can resist." Uncle Joseph sighed, too, but it was a different sigh from Maggie’s. He loved his niece with a wise and tender affection, and she had not chosen the husband that he would have chosen for her. Stephen Gray was indeed “ well-to-do,” and bad a fair character, but the keen old man saw radical defects in it. “He listens to no one but himself, and so be hears do advice but a flatterer’s,” said Joseph, “besides, Maggie, he is so proud, that I am feared he's bound to have a tumble." “ But, uncle, he has a big heart, and he’s a good farmer, and even you can see that he is the handsomest man in the Dales.” “That is all true, girl, but God does not measure men by inches.” However, in spite of all disaffection, Maggie Hawick’s wedding with Stephen Gray came off with great and widespread hospitality. Joseph Haywick had been for forty years the physician and friend of all the Dale families, rich and poor, and not one of them missed an invitation. The gentry feasted in the oak-raftered parlor, ,and the shepherds and cotters in the big barn. But all were merry and full of good wishes for the pretty bride and her handsome husband. The number of the bridal presents Maggie received testified to it. Stephen’s sideboard ond buffet would be bright with silver tokens, and his pre-ses full of snowy damask and fine-spun linen

and blankets. But, upon the whole, it rather mortified him. He could not feel the loving kindness that sanctified the gifts, and the obligation was not pleasant j to the ‘self-sufficient young man. He had assured Uncle Joseph voluntarily, and with rather unnecessary pride, that he wanted nothing with Maggie, neither gold nor gear nor land; and yet, for all that, he looked rather anxiously for the old man’s offering. Joseph Hawick was believed, in spito of his eooentric attentions to poor patients, to “have money,” and Stephen felt that a handsome check on Kendall Bank or a few government bonds would not be oat of place ; for he had been at some expense in refurnishing the old farin-houae, and he was very anxious to try some new scientific experiments with his worn-out land. But Maggie said nothing about her uncle’s present, and Stephen was far too proud to ask her, until nearly a year after their marriage. But one day he had a Jong talk with old Squire Twaites about “high farming,” and then the two men drifted into the discussion of some scheme for the draining of Druid’s- Moss. Then Steph en, thinking it all over as he smoked bis pipe by the blazing ingle, saw untold wealth of harvest from the rich alluvial soil and fabulous wheatfields growing where men now caught leeches or shot wild fowl. If he only had money ! If he only had one thousand pounds in cash! Tnwaites and he would buy and drain the Moss. He sat dreaming over the project and counted the acres and bushels over and over, until he began to look upon Druid’s Moss as the one thing upon the earth to be desired. _ “Maggie,” he said, suddenly, to the little wife, sewing and gently rocking herself beside him, “Maggie, what did Uncle Joseph give you for a wedding present! You never told me.” “I thought you would not like it. Sttphfp n “Very likely not, but nevertheless, what was it? ’ “Just like him; and we had two family cues to begin with, not to speak of the little ones you have in almost every room, i? r *? . “In the same way, Stephen, people gave us napkins enough for three generations, and silver mugs enough to serve ail our friends. Uncle’s Bible was bj no means en ordinary one ’’ “It has been is the Hawick household Maes A. D. lfiM, and contains the family register for more than two hundred mm*. I am the last of our branch; nacte thought I would like to have it. It

is a queer old book with great brass clasps. I made uncle twojsolemn promises over it.” “What were they?" “That I would never part with it under ariy circumstances, unless it was to give it back in his charge, and—and—” “Well, what else?” “That when every other source of help and comfort failed me I would go to it—don’t look so angry, Stephen.” “I think I have good causo to be angry; it is like a phophesy of ill fortune. Why should he forespeak sorrow for you? And why should he suppose that you would need help or comfort I could not give you? If he had given you a thousand pounds it would have boen more to the purpose.” Maggie looked quickly up. She had never heard such a sentiment from Stephen’s lips before. Then she laughed gayly. “A thousand pounds, Stephen! Why, what on earth should we do with so much money?” “Buy and drain Druid's Moss, Maggie.” i Maggie drew her eyebrows together and looked wonderingly at Stephen, who had risen and was pacing the floor with rapid, thoughtful steps. “YVhy, love,’’she said anxiously, “what can you mean? The Druid’s Moss! What is that worth?” “A few leeches and wild birds now, Maggie, but acres and acres of golden wheat and rich meadow-gras3 if it is drained. I was talking to Thwaites about it to-day. Both our uplands are worn out; the Moss lies between us. I would give five years of ray life to own half of it and money sufficient to drain and cultivate it.”

“How much money would do, Stephen?” “A thousand pounds. I could drain part, and then save the proceeds to drain the rest. But where could I get the money?” “I was thinking of .Uncle Joseph. Would you let me ask him?” Nothing is so wonderful as the growth of a master passion. In a few hours, the desire for this particular piece of land had strengthened itself so that Stephen began to consider whether it might not be worth while to let his wife go borrowing for him; and the longer he talked, the more eager he became; so that, at last, Maggie felt hurt to see what a trifle he made of her feelings and of the risk Joseph Hawick would run. However, next day she went to see the old man, and, as they sat together over their tea and crumpets, said: “Uncle, Stephen wauts to join Squire Thwaites in buying the Druid’s Moss.” “What for? To raise cranberries?” “Uncle! Why they talk of great wheat-fields and meadows.” ••It will need a sight of drainage, and that means a sight of money. I should >’tMnk Stephen had idle cash sufficient.” •lie wants to borrow it.” Joseph's face clouded. “Wonders never cease. I thought Stephen Gray would starve before he would borrow or owe money.” “Don’t cast up the past, uncle. Stephen thinks that if he could borrow a thousands pounds he would make it ten in a very few years; and. uncle, I came to-day to ask you to lend him it.” “You came a useless journey. Maggie, forbye I don’t like that pride that makes others stoop for its conceit,” “Squire Thwaites said you had plenty of money in Kendal Btnk.” “If I had money I’d never trust it in any bank; but I make no more than I need now. I am getting an old man, Maggie. ”

“Stephen will be sorely disappointed.” “He has no cause to be so. I told him you would have no fortune, and he quite scorned at the thought of money with you. He had his choice between yon and Kate Crofts, with the Crofts Manor at her will.” The old man was quite gloomy after this talk; and Maggie was almost glad to escape from the silent hearthstone to the bu9tle of her own busy farm and the noisy welcome of her husband. Btephen took the refusal very proudly, but the idea had now become paramount, and Joseph Hawick's refusal had only made him the more determined to carry out the project. He had a fierce struggle with his pride and his independence, but the next day he went into Kendal and made arrangements to raise the money by a mortgage on the farm that had been unincumbered for six hundred years. In a few weeks all arrangements had been made, the Moss bad been bought, surveyed and divided, and the partners in its drainage went to work. It soon proved itself a drainage of two kinds. After many hundreds of pounds had been spent to very little purpose, more experienced surveyors had to be sent for, and entirely new means and machinery used. Too much had been thrown into the Moss to abandon the project, and yet the constant cry for “money” was fast exhausting the patience and purses of both Squire Thwaites and Stephen Gray. The former more able to bear his loss, became, after two years’ labor, quite indifferent, talked of the affair as hopeless, and was half angry with Stephon for persisting. But something like desperation animated the young farmer, for he had so far mortgaged his home and estate that their redemption was hopeless if the Moss failed him.

Poor Maggie, with her two babies to care for, strove to help him by taking upon herself labors she was totally unfit for; nnd she rapidly broke down between the unusual physical strain and the constant, anxious worry regarding Stephen. All her husband’s life dwindled down to those damp, black acres or rich mud. Maggie got to hate the name and shudder at the sight of Druid’s Moss, and with that touch of superstition always lingering in north-country minds, she half feared it had bewitched him; for he worked there through long days, until he came home too weary to speak to her or even notice the children; while every pound he could get was hopelessly sunk in .its treacherous depths. It was pitiful, too, to see the bare uplands of the farm that were once white with mountain-sheep; and the great barns and byres nearly empty, that had once been full of Normandy farm-horses and dewy-lipped Alderneys. But things got worse and worse, and in the middle of a dreary winter, just before the biith of her third child. Uncle Joseph died. Fifty pounds to defray his funeral expenses was nearly all the money found; but he left Maggie his house and furniture, and with his last breath reminded her of the old Bible. “You’ll he needing it soon, Maggie dear, I know; don't forget me when you come to that day.” These were his last words, aud Maggie pondered them that evening as she sat, silent, beside her sleeping children. It was hard to sell the dear old home, but Stephen would hear of nothing else; so the doctor's house went into the market; the quaint furniture was scattered all over the Dale and the money went into Druid’s Moss. It only put off the evil Squire Thwaites abandoned his impsov^tneaU:

he would throw no more good money after bad, he said; but Stephen, with a determination that many thought a kind of madness, worked away. And really, in the fourth year, it looked ae if he would succeod. A portion that had been finished produced such a crop as made the farmers round the craggy hills doubt their own eyes. Stephen was jubilant: what could be done for two acres could be done for two hundred. He had proved his position, and was more enthusiastic than ever over his idea. But Maggie was almost hopeless. She was beginning to suffer for very necessities; strange, hard men came with authority about her home, and Stephen looked so ill and haggard and was so irritable that her cup was full of sorrow. One gloomy afternoon, when it rained so heavily that work was impossible, she ventured to try to reason with and comfort the gloomy man, looking dolefully across the empty farm-yard toward the great, flat, dreary Moss. “It will soon "be over, my dear Maggie,” he said. ‘*To-morrow lam going into Kendal, to get another five hundred pounds, if I can, upon the farm plenishing and the remnant of the stock. lam sure, if I get it, to put the whole Moss under wheat this year, and that will practically save us. If -1 don’t, I have lost my estate and all these years’ labor, and we shall leave this place, beggars, within a month. You know the worst now, Maggie.” The next day, amid the driving storm, she watched her husband make his last desperate effort. She turned and looked upon the pleasant room, with her three children playing unconsciously about it; then she fled upstairs, and, falling down upon her knees, poured out all her heart in passionate, pleading prayer. As she rose, with streaming eyes, Uncle Joseph’s last words flashed across her mind. Somehow, they held a new meaning for her. She unlocked herdrawer, and lifted the old brass-bound book carefully and tenderly out. “It has comforted my fathers and mothers for many a generation," she said softly. “I will see what it will do for me.” And she unclasped it with a prayer; “ ‘I was brought low, and He helped me.’”

They were good words, and she read the whole psalm through and turned the leaf. A Bank-of-England bill tor one hundred pounds fell at her feet. She lifted it as though it had fallen from heaven, and commenced to turn, with eager, trembling fingers, the well-worn pages. One after another, hills fluttered into her lap until, from between the boards of Uncle Joseph’s wedding-gift, she had taken eight thousand eight hundred pounds. Can any one guess how she prayed again, and" with what a radiant face she met the cross, wretched man that, halfdrowned with the stonn, walked, about sundown, up to the hearthstone? “Stephen! Stephen!” she cried joyously. ' “Never look sad again! Uncle Joseph’s wedding-gift has saved us!” And she spread the money before him. Maggie was right; the money saved Stephen every way. He bought Thwaites out; he paid off all claims on his home; he restocked his farm, and triumphantly finished the draining of Druid’s Moss. Maggie's fortune was oddly given, but the eccentric old man did not judge far amis. His wedding gift was blessed as he intended it should be—in two ways—for Maggie and Stephen learned to love it, not only for the material help it had brought them in their extremity, but also for the promise of the far more exceeding and abundant riches which it promises and provides for. —[The Ledger.

The Cat In Thibet.

The cat is treated by Thibetans with the mo9t marked attention and forbearance. Even when it spills milk, breaks or destroys any valuable object, or kills some pet bird, it is never whipped or beaten in any way, but merely chidden and driven away by the voice; while were a dog or a child to commit these offences, they would be soundly thrashed. Such very mild and considerate treatment might lead one to suppose that the cat is esteemed Indy. But such is not the ease. It is, indeed, regarded as a useful animal, to the extent that it contributes to the preservation of sacred pictures, robes, books, sacrificial food, and the like, by killing the rats and mice which consume and destroy these. But otherwise the cat is considered the most sinful being on earth, on account of its constant desire for taking life, even when gorged ivith food, aud. its torture of its victims. Its mild treatment is due to the belief that whosoever causes the death of a cat, whether aocldcntally or otherwise, will have the sins of tho cat transferred to his shoulders. And so great is the burden of its sins that, even were one sir (two pounds) of butter for each hair on the cat’s body offered in feeding the temple lamps before Buddha's image, the crime would not be expiated.—[lndian Antiquary.

The Metrical System.

Though a simple enough thing when properly applied, the metrical system is exceedingly confusing when come upon suddenly in connection with matters and objects the dimensions of which havo hitherto been expressed in common fig-' ures. The difficulty of a quick mental conversion from the old system of our grandfathers to the 'metrical is apparent when a man states his height in metres and his weight in kilos. Harald Hagen, the professional champion skater of Europe, now in this country, on being asked his height and weight replied that he was 1.86 metres in height, and weighed, in racing condition, seventeen kilos. It is no easy matter to understand at a thought that he is about six feet two and a half inches high, and weighs about 160 pounds. The metric system has been without a strong public champion in this country ever since the death of Alexander H. Stephens. It is slow in taking hold. Cloth is still measured by the yard, lumber by feet and inches, liquids by pints, quarts and gallons, and weights by pounds nnd ounces, grains and drachms.--[N. Y. Times.

Dynamite and Gunpowder.

Dynamite is vastly more powerful than gunpowder. With the latter the volume of gas is 300 times as great as the grains used. With dynamite the volume of gas is 900 times, or three times as much. With gunpowder the gas is set freo gradually; with dynamite instaneously. Air presses with enormous weight on every surface. When an explosion takes place all the air must he pushed aside to make loom for the gas. With dynamite it is less work to split the rock on which it is laid than to raise the column of air. With gunpowder there is leas gas, and the gas being generated gradually, the air is moved gradually, and this less work than splitting the rock. If gunpowder is used to split a rock extra pressure in the shape of tamping is necessary. —[New York Dispatch.

THE JOKERS’ BUDGET.

JEST AND YABN BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. A Hard Lot— A Matter of Choice — A Great Improvement-A Predicament —Etc., Etc. “Goodness me, Johnny! What are you crying about now ?” “ ’Cause Tommy dreamed about eatin’ pie last night and I didn't.”—[lndianapolis Journal. A MATTER OF CHOICE. “ To think that my Ethel should have spoken so impertinent to papa at dinner. She never hears mamma talk that way to him.” Ethel (stoutly.)—Well, but you choosed him and Ldidn’t.—[Tit Bits. A GREAT IMPROVEMENT. Tailor—Checks I see are not to be used this Spring. Customer—Well, that suits me; I always liked credit far better.—[Chicago Inter-Ocean. A PREDICAMENT. Jason—l’ll be hanged if I know whether It’s safer to address that strange lady as “Miss” or “Madame.” Argo—Why, what difference will it make? Jason—Well, you see, if T call her “Madame” she’ll think I think she looks so old that she must be married. And if I call her “Miss” she’ll think I’ve spotted her as an old maid who couldn’t get married.—[Chicago News Record. A GOOD REASON. “I wish I was a twin,” said Bobbie. “Why?” asked his father. ’•Then I could see how I looked without a looking-glass,” said Bobbie.— [Harper's Young People. A ItATURAL INFERENCE. •“What are the principal products of the Sandwich Islands?” “I am not sure, but I should say bread, ham and mustard.”

A QUESTION NOT EASILY ANSWERED. ■“So she i 9 going to marry him?” “Yes.” “Does she love him?” “It is impossible to tell. He is rich.” MUCH TO LIVE FOR. He loved her more than tongue could tell—at least more than his tongue could tell—for he had been telling her of it for months, and is still at it seven nights a week. He was sweet and musical as bright Apollo’s lute, strung with his own hair, and when he spoke the voice of all the gods made heaven drowsy with the harmony. Naturally, under such circumstanoes, the gir.l liked to listen. Yet she hud lived in Chicago so many winters that she had some doubts about love keeping the cold out better than a cloak and serving for food and raiment. Spareribs and sealskins, she knew were more comfortable from a practical standpoint. Yet she loved to listen to this lover’s love. It's a weakness women have even in Chicago. On this occasion he had been talking to her of his love ahd his hopes for the future. “I have so much tolive for,” he whispered tenderly, as he took her in his great strong arms. She looked up into his face trustfully. “I should say you did, George,” she said with charming naivete. “ I weighed 200 pounds to-day on papa’s bog scales.” “Birdie,” he murmured, and kissed her.—J Detroit Free Press. THE SAD ELEVATOR BOY.. Old Lad) —Don’t you ever feel sick going up and down in this elevator all day? Elevator Boy—Yes’m. “Is it the motion of going down ?” “No’m. “ The motion of going up ? ” “ No’m. “The stopping ?” “ No’m. “ What is it then ? " “ The questions.”—[Good News. SURE TO FAIL.

Bitkins—Your friend Scribbler seems to be always short of funds. If his books don’t sell, why don’t you try him at effioe work when you need anew man? Boomer—No use. A man who can’t, succeed as a novelist hasn't imagination enough for the real estate business.—[N. Y. Weekly. ■ • HONEST. He—Don't you think you could love me just a little? She (decidedly)—No; I’m one of those impulsive creatures who never do things •by halves.—[New York Press. A BIG BOOM. Mr. Gotham—How’s business in your section ? Western Friend—Booming, sir, just a booming. Why, sir, in Dugout City, where I live, they are opening up new streets so fast that the whole town is down with diphtheria.—[N. Y. Weekly. AN AERIAL SUBURB. Manager—-Mr. Skylight, I see you’re late again this morning. Have you moved out of town? Skylight—Yes, sir., Manager—How far? Skylight—The twenty-first story, sir. —[Chicago luter-Ocean. fashions for ’93. Wife—lsn’t it lovely? It was so delightfully antique I could not resist the temptation to buy it. Husband—Well, I'll be dinged! Here I’ve just been elected President of the Swear Off Temperance Society, and you go out and Purchase an old-fashioned punch howl as big as a tub. “We needn’t use it for punch, my dear.” , “What can we do with it?” “I was thinking we might keep it in the library., We can fill it with water, you know, and alongside of it have a sponge on a pretty Japanese plate.” “For wetting Columbia postage stamps, of course. [New York Weekly. A JUDICIAL OPINION. Daughter (looking up from' her novel) —Papa, in time of trial what do you suppose brings the most oomfort to a man? Papa (who is District Judge)—An acquittal, I should think.—[Brooklyn Life. COMPANION PIECES. Gildersloeve—A Philadelphia man has a carriage which he says Washington once owned. TilUnghaat—Who has the hack Washington took at the cherry tree!—[Brooklyn Life.

818 FAVORITE ATTITUDE, In the Street Car: Gentleman (cntering)—Will you klmlly get up and give me your seat? Lady.—What do you mean by addressing me in that manner, sir? Gentleman—When I offered you a seat last evening you said you preferred to stand. As I take you for a lady of your word, I will accommodate you by occupying your seat while you assume your favorite attitude.—[Boston Transcript. HAD HIS EYES OPENED. Green—There was n time when I thought I knew everything. Brown--Yes. And you think disnow ? G.--I do. B.—What made you change your opinion ? G.—Well, the fact is I am courting a widow.—[New York Press. SELF-CONTROL. Teacher—What is the meaning of selfcontrol? Boy—lt’s we'en a teacher gets mad, and feels like giving a boy a black mark, and doesn’t. A GREAT EFFORT. Wee Miss—l hate that little girl! Mamma—You should not hate anybody, my dear. Wee Miss—Well, if I musn’thate her, I’ll try not to, but I guess It’ll make my head ache. —[Good News. DEFINITE ENOUGH. Jack—l may kiss you, then? Perdita (blushingly)—Some time in the future, Jack. Jack (eagerly)—When? Perdita l —Day before to-morrow.

MR. JONES TELLS A STORY.

Mrs. Jones Illustrates It by Frequent Remarks. “I know the best story about Simpson to-day,” said Mr. Jones, as he settled himself comfortably for an evening at home. '“You’ve seen that fur coat of his, Maria—well, it was—” “Wait till I get my sewing, Jeptha,” said Mrs. Jones. , “There now begin.” “You know the outside of the coat is beaver—” “Whose coat?” “Why Simpsons.” “Oh, yes. Goon.” “And it isn’t to be sneezed at— ” “Oh, dear, where’s my thimble? Just let me run and get it. There, now. What was it Simpson sneezed at?” “Who said anything about Simpson sneezing? That’s just like a woman,” snarled Jones. “If you think you can sit still for five minutes I’ll go on with the story. He made a bet—” “ Who made a bet?” “ Simpson did—that nobody could tell what the coat was lined with —” "Wasn’t it fur-lined?” “If you know the story better than I do perhaps you will tell it,” suggested Mi. Jones. “ The boys all guessed—” “ What boys.?” “ The fellows —the crowd—” <‘Just let me get this needle threaded,” sail Mrs. Jones, as she tried to thread the point of a crambic needle; “lean listen better when I’m sewing. Goon.” “We were all in it, so wo guessed catskin—” “Jeptha! that reminds me, I haven’t, seen old Tom to-day.” “Confound old Tom! Will you listen, Maria, or—” “Wait till the scissors roll by. There! I’m all ready. Was that.the door-bell? Now for the story.” -“We guessed the skin of every animal in the catalogue—” “What catalogue?" “Heavens, Maria, you’ll drive me mad! Simpson won the bet, and—” “ What bet?” “About the lining. It was—” “'Then it wasn’t cat?” “No! no! It was calf—when he was in i.t | ha! ha! See?” “Rather fur-fetched, wasn’t it?” said Mrs. Jones, yawning. Then Jones rose to offer a few feeble remarks about telling a story to a woman, and expecting her to see the point, etc., etc. —[Detroit Free Press.

How to Cook a ’Possum.

Scald and scrape the hair off and clean in the ordinary way. Fill the carcass with small or sliccd-up sweet potatoes and si;w up with a few stitches of twine ■or course thread. Scoop out a hole in the giound large enough to hold your ’possum, wrap him well in green corn shucks, or, if they cannot be had, old shucks thoroughly wetted will do. Covei with one aud a half to two inches of dirt, build a good wood fire on him aud lot the fire burn down "to coals. In a half hour your ’possum, together with the sweet potatoes, will be done. It is a good plan to cook a ’possum this way at night and let it remain in the ground until next morning, when you can serve it for breakfast. When cooked in this manner the flesh is so tender that it just drops from the bone like a thoroughly stewed spring chicken. All the tine aroma of the meat is retained, which, with the delicate flavor imparted by the sweet potatoes, makes a dish that is absolutely delicious. While in Arkansas we also cooked a great many fish in this way. Indeed, it is the best way that I have ever found to cook fish, flesh, or fowl. The cowboys often roast a calf's head in this manner when out in camp, wrapping it up in wet gunny sack instead of corn shucks. Heavy brown paper thoroughly wet answers the purpose of wrapping first rate. —[Dallas News.

Origin of a Soup.

Ox-tail soup is considered by people who know what is good to eat, as one of the greatest of delicacies. Few of thoso who like it, however, know the origin of soup of this sort. It dates back only to .the French Revolution, and is one of the very good things that have grown out of that frightful social convulsion. During the reign of terror iu 1793 many of the nobilitv in Paris were reduced to beggary. Starvation stared them in the face, until one of their number noting that the abbattoirs of Paris sent their hides fresh to the tanneries without removing the tails thereto, and observing also' that these tails were coneidered of so little value that they were thrown away, made application for one or two of them. His request was granted, and the noble beggar, taking a few of them to his lodging, turned them into soup. So toothsome was it that he confided his scheme to others, through whom it speedily spread, so that in a short time ox-tail soup attained a popularity which to this day it has never lost. —[Harper’s Young People.

To remove tar from the carpet put butter on the spots and lot it remain for some time; then wash with a sponge in soap and warm water.

POPULAR SCIENCE NOTES.

Recording Wind Phenomena. —The new method of recording wind phenomena, which has now for some time been in use in the Odessa Observatory, hna accomplished very satisfy _ry and useful results. By means of this simple appatus the direction and velocity of the winds are alike marked on a cylinder by one symbol. The record consists in this case of arrows, which are printed on the paper covering the cylinder, their position showing the direction of the wind, and the number of them marked on a length of paper corresponding to one hour furnishes data for finding the velocity by an empirical scale, the special value of the readings being determined by an anemometer. The reoording appatus is actuated by clock work, and the indications are mude with great readiness and accuracy by electrical contacts, which are produced by a battery cell, the duration of this contact depending on the velocity of the wind—a light wind producing, of course, a contact of longer duration than a strong one.

How Zero was Adopted. —From a boy Fahrenheit was a close observer of nature. When only nineteen years old, in the cold winter of 1700, he experimented by putting snow and salt together, and noticed that it produced a degree of cold equal to the coldest day in the year. That day was the coldest the oldest inhabitant could remember. Gabriel was struck with the coincidence of his discovery, and concluded that he had found the lowest degree of temperature known in the world. He called the degree “zero,” and constructed a thermometer, or rude weather glass, with a scale graduating up from zero to boiling point, wnich he numbered 212, and the freezing point 82, because, as he thought, mercury contracted the thirty-second of its volume on being cooled down from the temperature of freezing water to zero, and expanded the 130th on being heated from the freezing to the boiling point. Time showed the arrangement arbitrary, and that these two points no more represented the real extremes of temperature than “from Dan to Beersheba” represented the exact extremes of Palestine. But Farenheit’s thermometer had been widely adopted with its convenient scale, and many people cling to the established scale. The three countries which use Farenheit are England, Holland and America. Ingenious Mechanical Devices.— Mechanical devices in the manufacture of shoesare claimed to have reached their ideal ingenuity in a recently invented contrivance for attaching heels to boots and shoes by driving staples from the inside through the inner sole, the counter and the outer sole, and nearly through the heel, the points of the staples reaching into and nearly through the top lift—thus, if desired, leaving the shoe heeled with a blind lift by the first and only operation of attaching. If it is desired to slug the heel, the apparatus is provided with a meehanicism for driving slugs into the top lift at the instant of attaching the heel to the shoe. The staples being thus driven from the inside, thfir crowns are left embedded in the inner sole entirely below its surface, and the inner and outer soles and the counters are drawn firmly together, making a most perfect heel seat. By other methods, as is well known, the heel seat has to he made first, so as to insure a tight joint at the point of contact between the heel and the outer sole, and to provide something solid to which the heel may be attached by the points of the nails. The claim is therefore put forward that, in the manufacture of boots and shoes, this mechanical wonder supplies the place of the heel-seating machine, the attaching machine, and the slugging machine—in fact, performing the whole work at one operation, and simultaneously.

Crests and Their Origin.

Crests are ascribed to the Carians and they are of very ancient origin. They are mentioned by Homer and'Virgil and described as in use among the heathen gods and goddesses. Thus the crest to Minerva's helmet was an owl. Mars bore a lion or tiger and Jupiter Ammon a ram’s head. These symbols were formerly placed on the helmet and were great marks of honor, only worn by heroes of great valor or by those who were advanced to some superior military command. Richard I. had a crest on his helmet resembling a plume of feathers; Richard 11. wore a lion on a cap of dignity above the crown on his helmet; Alexander 111., of Scotland, had a plume of feathers, and James I. wore a lion. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, according to the Brook lyn Eagle, the crest was described as being a figure placed upon a wreath, ooronet or cap of maintenance above the helmet or shield, A crest was anciently worn on the heads of commanders in the field, and then only in order to distinguish them from their followers. After the institution of the order of the garter, and in imitation of Edward 111. all knights companions of the order began to wear crests. This practice soon became more general, and they were assumed by all who considered themselves entitled to bear'arms.

The Busy Bee.

When you eat a spoonful of honey you have very little notion as to the amount of work and travel necessary to produce it. To make one pound of clover honey, bees must deprive 62,000 clover blossoms of their nectar, and to do this requires 3,750,000 visits to the blossoms by the bees. In other words one bee to collect enough nectar to make one pound of honey must go from hive to flower and back 3,750.000 times- Then, when you think how far lx-es sometimes fly in search of these clover fields, oftener than not one or two miles from the hive, you will begin to get a small idea of the number of miles one of the industiious little creatures must travel iu order that you may have the pound of honey that gives them so much trouble. It may also help you to understand why the bee is unamiable enough to sting you if you get in his way. When one has to work so hard to accomplish so little, it is quite irritating to be interfered with.—[Harper's Young People.

Spurious Gems.

Against imitations of “the lucky chryoprase” the public is warned to be wary. Spurious gems made"in Germany are now being offered for sale here. They are simply carnelian dyed, and have a black tint, visible again the light. They can be easily distinguished by their transparency, the true ctirysoprase being opaque. - False fasceted rubies arc also offered for sale. The} - are composed of small stones, and can be distinguished, we are told, by the absence of “silk” and by the white spots being all cloee together. They also lack the lustre of the ruby.—[New York Dispatch.

THE WAYS OF WOLVES.

Westerners Used Not to Mind Them More than Ground Squirrels. Does the American wolf ever attack human beings? Up to a few years ago almost the only account of the killing of persons by wolves is to be found in £.udobon and Bachman, which tells of the devouring of a slave by a pack of wolves in some one of the southern states. This account came to the authors at second or third hand, and to my mind it is not at all convincing. In the old days in the west a man no* more thought of being afraid of a wolf than of a ground squirrel. With a stick,, or without one, a man could chase a pack, of gray wolves as far as he could run,, and as long as his wind held out. Evens in the bitterest weather the wolfers neverthought that there was any danger of being attacked by wolves. The only* case of which I ever heard which suggested anything like this was toward theend of a very long snowy winter, when a> large white wolf oda night followed a. friend of mine up to his cabin door. Theanimal trotted along only a few steps behind the unarmed man, who confessed tofeeling somewhat uneasy lest the beast should spring at him, but it made nodemonstration of this kind. Of late years more or less frequent accounts have been published in the newspapers of packs of wohres attacking, human beings, in Minnesota and North. Dakota, but I have always believed, and still think, that such dispatches are merenewspaper “fakes,” and no more to- becredited than the bear and hoop snake; stories which so frequently adorn the pages of the journals to-day.—[Forest and Stream.

Unconquerable Feelings.

“The term ‘unconquerable feeling, r taken literally, is still an actual fact,”" said Ives Armford to a Globe Democrat reporter in the Lindell. “There are times when feeling is the master, and strive as one may, it still holds, dictatesand drives in a manner that is strangely supreme. Its dictation is inexorable, even in things most trivial; in thingsthat it would seem a duty and a pleasure to do. I want to tell of one specific instance where feeling barred temporarily. One night, somewhat over a year ago, I decided to renovate my trunks, I get am unconquerable desire to renovate my trunks about once every six months, and nothing will do but that I must pile everything out, sort, cast aside, burn and repack. On this night I began by laying everything out and then slowly to unfold hits of paper, letters, manuscripts, etc., seemingly without end. I only began at midnight, and I was not done by 3 o’clock in the early morning. I picked up a letter from the disordered heap—a worn, faded sheet that I first thought to destroy. However, I opened it * and took one glance. Then I dropped it. If ever I wanted to read anything in the world I wanted to read that letter, and yet I couldn’t. After spending minutes in painful recollection I laid it, unread, into the trunk again. You wonder, no doubt, how a letter could bar my desire. It was from my dead mother, written to me months before, when at school, and it seemed like a voice from out the great unknown.”

Dutch Kloompers.

One of the queerest sights which I saw in Europe was a row’ of wooden shoes outside the door of a Dutch farm-house on Saturday morning. There were the big-sized shoes of the farmer himself, the middle-sized shbes of his good vraow, and several small-sized shoes of the children; and all the line had been scrubbed and freshly whitewashed in preparation for Sunday. There are many kinds of wooden shoes worn by peasants in Europe, but none are more clumsy and heavy than the “kloompers” of the Hollanders. They are boat-shaped with high wooden protections to the heels, and a curious little upward twist to the toes, like the prow of a Chinese junk.. But heavy and awkward as the shoes are, the Dutch children run about as lightly as if they were shod in Cinderella’s glass slippers, and do not seem to object in the least to the clicking sound made by the shoes on the pavement. One of the most extraordinary sights in the world is a line of little Dutch boys playing leap-frog in their great noisy wooden kloompers. Having formed a row of “frogs” from one end of their village to the other, the boys begin to jump in the usual agile way of the players of the lively game. As soon as the line is in motion a most tremendous sound startles the village. The oldest inhabitant can hardly “hear himself think,” but he knows that the noise is not thunder; it is only the rattle of the boys’ wooden shoes as they strike the hard brick paved street.—[Harper’s Young People.

Convicted by a Blotter.

“One of the most remarkable things that I ever saw introduced in court asevidence, ” said Rodger Milton to a St. Louis Globe-Democrat reporter, “was an ordinary white blotter. This happened in Norman, South Dakota, where a fellow was being tried for murder. The point that the prosecution was trying to prove was that the man had been in the Haywood Hotel at that place on a certain day. The blotter in question contained a portion of a signature to a letter and a date, that of the day in question. It so happened that the prosecuting attorney had visited the hotel on the day the crime had been perpetrated, and thattoo, shortly after its commission. “In discussing the matter with the clerk, the suspected man’s name wasmentioned, and the clerk stated that the party referred to had jnst left the writing room. With detective sagacity the attorney visited the room and found this blotter, with the name and date on it. Though sadly blurred and inverted, experts were called and the writing was proved to be that of the prisoner. The effeet of this was simply to destroy the defence’s efforts to prove an alibi, which point being knocked out the criminal was convicted.”

Fate of Incendiaries in Japan.

The incendiary’s lot in Japan is not a happy one. When caught he is at once handed over to the excutioneer. By this official the culprit is buried in the ground up to the neck. A cross-cut saw laid on the ground close by ready for use, and then the executioner goes away for a few days on other duties. During the interval any passer-by is at liberty to assist the excutioner in his duties by taking a few cuts with the saw across the prisoner’s neck, When the exeoutioner returns, if there is any necessity for it, he leisurely completes the task by sawing the man’s neck from his shoulders. Itis then fastened to a pole and placed on exhibition in the neighboring village or town. The custom, it is claimed, is calculated greatly to discourage the ?ork i New». Betting pro,,erty l 1 **""