Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 May 1893 — Page 4

give me not tears. BV BOSE HAWTHORNE I.ATHROP. DI'SPAIR. Dear, when yon see my grave, Oh, shall you weep? Ah, no! That were 10 have Mistaken care; But wkeu you sue my grave, I pray you keep Sunshine of heart that time doth lay me there, Where veiling mists of dream guard endless sleep. Though the young life wo mourn That blooming dies— Ere grief hath made forlorn This other lace — Stilt sadder are the e res, The cheeks more worn Than show the d -ad, of those who s eh love’s grace; Death is the gentlest of the world’s replies, rov. Dear, wh -n the sun is set From mv li e’s air, And your eyes, newly wvt With tears lor me, Make my skv darker yet Remember where Your eyes in light laved a’l my destiny; Weep not, weep not; since so much love was there! Remtmber that through you Mv rapture came; Igaked from faith sotru3 More than I asked— For not the half 1 k ew Mv need might name, Until I saw the soul your love uumasked; Then crave not of the night my vanished ! fame. —(The Century, i

THE TOUCH IN THE HEART.

Old Abel Dunklee was delighted, and so was old Abel's wife, when little Abel came. For this coming they had waited many years. God had prospered them elsewise; this one supreme blessing only had been withheld. Yet Abe had never despaired. "I shall some time have a son,” said he. “1 shall call him Abel. He shall be rich; he shall succeed to my business, iny house, my factory, my lands, my fortune-*-nll shall be his.” Abel Dunklee felt this to be a certainty, and with this prospect constantly in mind he slaved and pinched and bargained. So when at last the little one did come it was as heir to a considerable property. The joy in the house of Dunklee was not shared by the community at large. Abel Dunklee was by no means a popular man. Folk bad the well definedopinion that he was selfish, miserly and hard. If he had not been actually bad, he had never'been what the world calls a good man. Tjis methods had been of the grinding, sordid order. He had always been scrupulously honest in the paymeat of his debts, and in keeping his word, but his sense of duty seemed to stop tjhere. A'cl's idea of goodness was to owe no than aiy money, lie never gave a penny to charities, and he never spent any time sympathizing with the misforfortunes or distresses of other people. He was narrow, close, selfish and hard.

so his neighbors and the community at , large said, and I shall not deny that the j verdict was a just one. When a little one comes into this world of ours it is the impulse of the people here to bid it welcome and to make its iot pleasant. When little Abel was born no such enthusiasm obtained outside the austere Dunklee household. Popular sentiment found vent in an expression of the hope that the son and heir would grow up to scatter the dollars which old man Dunklee had accumulated by years of relentless avarice and uuflagging toil. But Dr. Hardy—he who had officiated in an all important capacity upon that momentous occasion in the Dunklee household—Dr. Hardy shook his head wisely aud perhaps sadly, as if he were saying to himself: “No, the child will never do either what the old folk or what the other folk would have him do ; he is not long for here. ” Had you questioned him closely Dr. Hardy would have told you that little Abel was as frail a babe as ever did battle for life. Dr. Hardy would surely never have dured say that to old Dunklee, for in his rapture in the coming of that little boy old Dunklee would have smote the offender who presumed even to intimate that the babe was not the most vigorous as well as the most beautiful creature upon the earth. The old man was simply assotted upon the child —in a selfish way, undoubtedly, but even this selfish love of that puny little child showed that the old man was capable of somewhat better than his past life had been. To hear him talk you might have fancied that Mrs. Dunklee bad no part or parcel or interest in their offspring. It was always “my little hoy” —yes, old Abel Dunklee’s money had a rival in the old man’s heart at last, aud that rival was a helpless, shrunken, sickly little babe.

Among his business associates Abel Dunklce was familiarly knowu as OKI Growly, for the reason that his voice was harsh and discordant and sounded for all the world like the hoarse growling of an ill-natured bear. Abel was not a particularly irritable person, but his slavish devotion to money getting, his indifference to the amenities of life, his entire neglect of the kinder practices of humanity,his rough, unkempt personality and his deep, hoarse voice—these things combined to make that sobriquet of “Old Growly” an exceedingly appropriate one. And presumably Abel never thought of resenting the slur implied therein; he was too shrewd not to see that, however disrespectful aud evil-in-tentioned the phrase might be, it served him to good purpose, for it conduced to that very general awe, not to say terror, which kept people from bothering him with their charitable aud sentimental schemes. Yes, I think we can accept it as a fact that Abel liked that sobriquet; it meant more money in his pocket and fewer demands upon his time and patience. But Old Growly abroad and Old Growly at home were two very different |>eop'e. Only the voice was the same. The homely, furrowed, wizened face lighted up, and the keen, restless eyes lost their expression of shrewdness and the thin, bony hands that elsewhere clutched and clutched and pinched and pinched for possession uulimbered themselves in the presence of little Abel and reached out their long fingers yearningly and caressingly toward the little child. Then the hoarse voice would growl a salutation that was full of tenderness, for it came straight from the old man's heart; only, had you not known how much he loved the child, you might havo thought otherwise, for the old man's voice was always hoarse and discordant, aud that was why they called kim Old Growly. But what proved his love for that puny babe was the fact that evwry afternoon when be came home Croat the factory Old Growly brought his

little boy a dime; and oucc, when the little fellow had a fever on him from teething. Old Qrowly brought him a dollar! Next day the tooth came through and the fever left hint, but you couldn’t make the old man believe but what it was the dollar that did it all. That was natural, perhaps, for his life had been spent in grubbing formoney, and he had not the soul to see that the best and sweetest things in human life are not to be had by riches alone.

As the doctor had in one way and another intimated would be the case the child did not wax fat and vigorous. Although Old Growly did not seem to : see the truth, little Abel grew older only to become what the doctor had foretold —a cripple. A weakness of the spine i was developed,a malady that dwarfed the [ child’s growth, giving to his wee face a pinched, starved look, warping his emaciated body and enfeebling his puny limbs, while at the same time it quickened the intellectual faculties to a degree of precocity. And so two aud three aud our years went by, little Abel clinging to life with pathetic heroism and Old Growly loving that little cripple with all the violence of his selfish nature. Never once did it occur to the father that the child might die, that death’s seal was already set upon the misshapen little body; on the contrary Old Growly’s thoughts were constantly of little Abel's famous future, of the great fortune lie was to fall heir to, of the prosperous business career he was to pursue, of the influence he was to wield in the world—of dollars, dollars, millions of them which little Abel was sometime to possess; these were old Growly’s dreams, and he loved to dream them.

Meanwhile the world did we!! by the j old man; despising him, undoubtedly, I for his avarice and selfishness, but con- | stantly pouring wealth, and more wealth, 1 and evermore wealth into his coffers. As for the old man, he cared not what the world thought or said, so long as it paid tribute to him; lie wrought on as of old, industriously, shrewdly, hardly,but with this new purpose; To make his little hoyhappy and great with riches. Toys and picture books were vanities in which Old Grow ly never iudslged; to j have expended a farthing for chattels of that character wquld have seemed to Old ; Growly like sinful extravagance. The j few playthings which little Abel had | were such as his mother surreptitiously (bought; the old man believed that the j child should be imbued with a proper j regard for the value of money from the ! very start, so his presents were always j cash in hand, and he bought a large tin j bank for little Abel and taught the | child how to put the copper aud silver | pieces into it, and he labored diligently J to impress upon the child of how great , benefit that same money would be to ; him by and by. Just picture (o yotiri self, it you can, that fond, foolish old | man seeking to teach this lesson to that wan-eyed, pinched-faced little cripple, i But little Abel took it all very seriously, ! aud was so apt a pupil that Old Growly made great joy and was wont to rub his bony hqnds gleefully and say to himself: r -lie has great genius—this boy of mine—great genius for finance.”

But on a day, coming from his factory, ! Old Growly was stricken with, horror to find that during his absence from home a great change had come upon his child. The doctor said it was simply the progress of the disease; that it was a marvel that little Abel had held out so long; that from the moment of his birth the seal of death had been set upon him in that cruel malady which had drawn his face and warped his body and limbs. Then all at once Old Growly’s eyes seemed to be opened to the truth, and like a lightning flash it came to him that perhaps his pleasant dreams which he hud dreamed of his child’s future could never Ik- realized. It was a bitter awakening, yet amid it all the old man was full of hope, determination aud battle, lie had little faith in drugs and nursing, and professional skill; he remembered that upon previous occasions cures had been wrought by means of money; teeth had been brought through, the pangs of | colic beguiled, and numerous other ailments to which infancy is heir had by the same specific been baffled. So now Old Growly set about wooing his little boy from the embrace of death—sought to coax him back to health with money, I and the dimes became dollars, and the tin bank was like to burst of fullness. But little Abel drooped and drooped, and he lost all interest in other things, and he was content to lie drooping-eyed and listless, in his mother's arms all day. At last the little flame went out with hardly so much as a flutter, and the hope of the house of Dunklee was dissipated forever, j But even in those last moments of the little cripple's suffering the father struggled to call back the old look into tire fading eyes and the old smile into the dear, white face. He brought treasure from the vaults and held it up before those facing eyes and promised it all, all —everything he possessed—gold, houses, lands—all ho had he would give to that little child, if that little child would only live. But the fading eyes saw other things and the ears that were deaf to the old man’s lamentations heard voices that soothed the anguish of that last solemn hour. And so little Abel knew the mystery.

Then the old man crept away from that vestige of his love and stood alone in the night and lifted up his face aud beat his bosom and moaned at the stars, asking over aud 07er again why he had been so bereaved. Aud while he agouized in this wise and cried there came to him a voice—so small that none else could hear; a voice seemingly from God, for from infinite space beyond those stars it sped its instantaneous way to the old man’s soul and lodged there. “ Abel, I have touched thy heart ! ” And so, having come into the darkness of night, old Dunklee went back into the light of day and found life beautiful, for the touch was in his heart. After that Old Growly’s way of dealing with the world changed. lie had always been an honest man, honest as the world goes. But now he was somewhat better than honest; he was kind, considerate, merciful. People saw and felt the change and they knew why it was so. But the pathetic part of it all was that Old Growly would never admit—no, not even to himself—that he was the least changed from his old grinding, hard self. The good deeds he did were not [ his own; they were his little boy’s— at least so lie said. And it was bis whim when doing some kind and tender thing to lay it to little Abel, of whom he always spoke as if he were still living. His workmen, his neighbors, his townsmen—ali alike felt the graciousness of the wondrous change, and many, and many a lowly sufferer blessed that broken old man for succoi; in little Abel's name. And the old man was indeed much broken, not that he had parted with his shrewdness and acumen, for ns of old his every venture prospered, but in this particular his mind seemed weakened; that, as I have said, he fancied his child I lived, that he was given to low mutterings and incoherent mumblings of which the burden seemed to be that child of hi*, aud that his greatest

I pleasure appeared now to be watching other little ones at their play. In fact, so changed was he from the Old Grow ley jof former years that, whereas lie had ! been wholly indifferent to the presence i of those little ones upon earth, he now | sought there company and delighted to view their innocent and mirthful play. And so presently the children, from regarding him first with distrust, came to conlide in and love him, aud in due time ! the old man was known far and wide as Old Grandpa Growly, and he was pleased thereat. It was his wont to go every fair day of an afternoon into a park hard by his dwelling and mingle with the crowd of little folks there; aud when they were weary of their sports they used to gather about him—some even clamoring upon his knees—and hear him tell his story that lay next his heart—the story ever and forever beginning with “Once there was a littl* boy.” A very tender little story it was, too, told very much more sweetly than I could ever tell it, for it was of Old Grandpa Growly’s own little boy, and it came from that heart in which the touch—the touch of God Himself—lay like a priceless pearl.

So you must know that the last years of the old man’s life made full atonement for those that had gone before. People forgot that the old man had ever been other than he was now, and of course the children never knew otherwise. But as for himself, Old Grandpa Growly grew tenderer and tenderer aud his good - ness became a household word and he Vies beloved of all. And to the very last he loved the little ones and shared thenpleasures and sympathized with them in their griefs, but always repeating that same old story, beginning with “Once ther’ wuz a littl’ boy.” The curious part of it was this; That while lie implied by his confidences to the children that his own little boy was dead, he never made that admission to others. On the contrary, it was his wont, as 1 have said, to speak ,of little Abel as if that child still lived, and, humoring him in this conceit, it was the custom of the older ones to speak always of that child as if he lived aud were known and beloved of all. In this custom the old man had great content and solace. For it was his wish that all he gave to and did for charity’s sake should be known to come not from him, but from Abel, bis sou, and this was his express stipulation at all such times. I know whereof I speak, for 1 was one of those to whom the old man came upon a time and said; “My little hoy—Abel, you know—will give me no peace till I do what he requires, lie has this sum of money which he has saved in his bank—count it yourselves, it is $50,01)0 and he bids me give it to Bio townsfolk for a hospital, one for little lame boys and girls. And I have promised him—my little boy Abel, you know—that I will give $30,000 more. You shall have it when the hospital is built.” Surely enough, in eighteen months’ time the old man handed us the rest of the money, and when wc told him that the place was to be called the Abel Dunklee hospital he was sorely distressed and shook his head and said: “No, no, not my name! (’all it the Little Abel hospital, for little Abel—my boy, you know—has done it all.” The old man lived many years—lived to hear tender voices bless him aud see pale faces brighten at the sound of his footfall. Yes, for many years the quaint, shuffling figure moved about our streets, aud his hoarse but kindly voice—oh, very kindly now I —was heard repeating to the children that pathetic old story of “Once ther wuz a littl' boy.” And where the dear old feet trod the grass grew greenest and the sunbeams nestled. But at last there came a summons for the old mail- a summons from away off yonder—and the old man heard it aud went thither. The doctor—himself hoary and stooping now—told me that toward the last Old Grampa Growly sunk into a sort of sleep or stupor, from which they could not rouse him. For many hours he lay like one dead, but his thin, creased face was very peaceful aud there was no pain. Children tiptoed iu with flowers, and some cried bitterly, while others —those who wore younger—whispered to ono another: “Hush, let us make no noise; Old Grampa Growly is sleeping.” At last the old man roused up. lie had lain like one dead for many hours, but now at last he seemed to wake of a sudden, and, seeing children about him, perhaps he fancied himself in that pleasant park, under the trees, where so very often he had told his one pathetic story to those little ones. Leastwise he made a feeble motion as if he would have them gather nearer, and, seeming to know his wish, the children came closer to him. Those who were nearest heard him say with the ineffable tenderness of old: “Once ther’ wuz a littl’ boy—” And with those last sweet words upon his lips, and with the touch iu Iris heart, the old man went down into the valley. —[Eugene Field in Chicago Daily News.

The Island of Madagascar.

The island has upward of nine millions of inhabitants, with nothing but footpaths for them to travel in. This singular state of affairs is accounted for by the fact that the reigning tribe is the Hovas, who arc a very jealous and savage people. They greatly fear white supremacy. and the Queen and her husband, the Prime Minister, are bucked up by the whole island in their belief that as soon as they allow roads to be made, white people will flock in and take possession of the country. While the French have a semi-protectorate over the island, they have never yet penetrated the interior of it, and it would take 10,000 men to do this. The island is infested with crocodiles to a dangerous degree. Mr. Taylor visited a “sacred” island in a lake where they were $n numerous as nearly to upset his boat and where there were hundreds of the reptiles twelve to fifteen feet long. The Island of Madagascar is about 1.000 miles long and 250 wide. The Capital is Autananarivo, where the Queen holds court in her palace and keeps up considerable show of ceremony. The hawk and the looking glass are their national emblems. In the Capital there are schools, both missionary and industrial, but elsewhere the country is uncivilized and savage. There are but few Europeans at the Capital. Bands of murderous robbers infest the country, and although the Queen gives every white man two soldiers to sleep in front of his door, even then life in Madagascar offers few charms to the European.— [New York Advertiser. Three tall men live at Castle Hill, Me. Allie, Eliliu and Elidad Frank are their names, and laid along in a line on the floor they measure twenty-one. feet to an inch in their stocking feet and without thefr caps on. Two of them are more than seven feet in height and tho other is a little, less. Old Mr. Frank, their father, is remembered as being taller thau any one of them. Their occupation is put down as woodsmen, fanners, hunters and horse-swoppers.

SOMEWHAT STRANGE.

ACCIDENTS AND INCIDENTS OF EVERYDAY I.IKE. Que?r Facts anil Thrilling Axlvenj tures Which Show That Truth Is | Stranger Than Fiction. Mr. J. B. Dyke. a Colorado capitalist, rured a case of dipsomania the other day 1 very promptly, though unintentionally. , Mr. Dyke wears a very curious scarfpin. It is a tiny chameleon about three inches long, which is confined to his scarf by a fine gold chain. Sometimes the little animal sprawls with outstretched legs on Mr. Dyke's shirt bosom, sometimes it diugr. to the lapel of his coat, and again takes refuge under his vest. In shape it is ungainly; in motion ungraceful, but. as it lies peacefully breathing upon his shirt frout. scarf or coat lapel, its ever changing flush of colors is beautiful. Through the green sometimes shines the gold; upon an inhalation purple mingles with and drives away the gold; next is a hideous black, and then a glow of red or orauge, and so on ad infinitum the hues chase each other until a curious linger makes the reptile seek cover. It is perfectly harmless. A few days ago, while traveling, Mr. Dyke went into the buffet with some of his friends to take a drink. A party of traveling men were there for the same purpose, and one of them had evidently been there a good I many times. He was just raising his I glass to Ilia lips with an unsteady hand I when lie caught sight of Mr. Dyke’s ! lizard. He put the glass down untasted, i and remarked to Mr. Dyke: -“That is a ' strange scarfpin you wear.” Mr Dyke j took in the situation at a glance, and re- | plied: “What pin? I wear no pin.” lie brushed his hand over his scarf, and the chameleon ran over on his coat collar. “Great Heavens, man, it's alive!” cried the drummer; “it's on your collar now.” | “My dear fellow, you're mistaken,” said j Mr. Dyke, putting his hand to his collar ! while the lizard shot uuder his vest. ! “There’s nothing there. Have a drink i with me.” The drummer stared at the i collar where the lizard had been. “It looked like a lizard on fire,” he remarked, “but 1 guess it is ray brain on fire instead. I reokos; I'll stop drinking,” and lie walked away, leaving his liquor untasted.

Hkaki.nt, the statement made in Holly Springs, Miss., that a remarkable negro woman freak lived only a few miles from this town, aTimes-Democrat correspondent determined to obtain the facts in the case. A middle-aged negress greeted i the visitor. The woman is quite dark, of a pronounced African type of physiognomy, five feet three inches tall, and in f3.il- healjh, but has never had any children. She wore a white cotton tin- \ ban tied about her head and tucked in at the back to support the immense weight of her hair. This she removed and laid upon the table, and unwound the braids of her wonderful hair, which, went many times around her head, and dropped it upon the floor. It was, indeed, an amazing sight. Three braids almost ns thick as a man's arm close to the head, hut tapering to the thickness of a finger at the ends, closely plaited and measuring eight feet six inches, braided as it is. in length. It looks a good deal like Spanish moss, but is darker, crinkled, and grizzled, coarse and almost repulsive to the touch, suggesting ghastly stories of the abnormal growth of hair after death. Daniel McNeil, a young colored man of Helena, Ark., is puzzling the physi- ! cians. About a year ago, while having i an epileptic fit, he fell into an open fire- i place and when found he was lying in j the fire in an unconscious condition. I His scalp, the muscles of his head and the j bones of the side, as Avell as the tissues ! covering the left shoulder, were parched. He was in an unconscious condition for two days and recollected no incidents happening prior to his regain lig consciousness. The bone and flesh were burned from his head to such an extent that the pulsation of the brain could be felt. Very little medical attention was given him. onlv household remedies being applied. The burn removed onehalf of the skull. Now, after a year, the bony substauce of the skull is being reconstructed and bids fair to completely heal, making almost new bony covering for the brain. The man has fewer tits than he had before the accident. Ilis mind is clear and he now does the work of an ordinary farm hand. I A very useful kind of tree to have in one’s front yard is reported as growing near some springs about twelve miles north of Tusearora. Its truly wonderful characteristic is its luminosity, which is so great that on the darkest night it can he plainly seen a mile away. A person standing near could read the finest print by its light. It is about six feet high, with a trunk which at its base is three times the size of an ordinary man’s wrist. Its foliage is extremely rank and its leaves resemble somewhat those of the aromatic bay tree iu shape, size and color. The luminous property is due to a gummy substance, which can be transferred to the hand by rubbing. The principal objection to the use of this kiud of tree for a street lamp would seem to be that its luminosity is probably due simply to phosphorescence, and therefore if it were not planted in a damp place and if the sun did not shine every day, it would not be up to candle-power at night.

A beautiful marine phenomenon in in the shape of an electrical storm is recorded by the Sunderland steamer Fulwell, on her voyage from Bremen to Baltimore, says Lightning. The electrical display occurred after dark. The most peculiar part of the occurrence was that while the lightning flashed a winter gale was blowing furiously and tho sea was running very high. The storm lasted about two hours, and the captain states that it was the most remarkable he ever witnessed. Theshipat timesseemed ablaze fore and aft, and, while no damage was done, it was several times thought that she had been struck. The very beauty of the scene was awful. Theblackness of the night was converted into unsurpassed brilliancy. Even the ocean seemed ablaze, and the waves as they dashed upon one another resembled tongues of fire. Four hunters were snowbound in the mountains at the headwaters of the Wynooehee River, Washington, for five weeks during Fcbruray and the beginning of this month. When the storm which snowed them up came they exhausted their stock of provisions and had killed eleven elk. They lost their game and were three days without food, when they killed an eagle. Later they fouud an elk powerless in the deep snow. They lived on elk and eagle alone for over a month. The snow was eight to fifteen feet deep, and they could not make any progress through it. Eventually they reached a deserted oamp and found an axe, with which they split wood and made rude snowshocs, by means of which they got back to civilization. The novel charge of stealing » bouse

aud the furniture it contained, together with a sheep corral, a load of hay, and other sundries, and carting the whole business away, was preferred against a man in Walla Walla, Wash., the other day. lie was formerly a resident of that town, and a year ago he took up a ranch, adjoining a sheep farm, in Yakima county. The owner of the farm alleges that during the absence of his men the accused tore down the house and the sheep corral and removed them, together with the household furniture, a ton of hay, and other filings, to his farm, on which he rebuilt the house, putting the furniture into it. The accused says it is a plot to get him out of the country, the sheepmen wanting the water .on his farm. ' An example of marvellous industry and power to overcome adverse circumstances is given by Max Meyer, who was born blind in Berlin twenty-eight years ago. lie received his tirst instruction from a teacher of the blind and later attended the Sophien-Roal-Gyinnasium, a scientific college in Berlin. He was always among the best students in the college and passed a brilliant final examination. He entered the University of Berlin a few years ago, to study mathematics, mechanics and philosophy. He took the degree of Ph. D. a few weeks ago, preparing a dissertation upon the differential calculus which excited the admiration of his professors.

Dead as whaling is on the Atlantic coast it is sufficiently lively on the Pacific, though the most valuable product of the voyage is no longer oil, but whalebone. The crude bone fetches in San Francisco from $4 to $0 a pound, and a great many hundred pounds may be taken from the mouth of a single whale. The demand is steady, and much of the bone is used in the manufacture of rich aud heavy silks. No substitute has been found for it here, though other things are used for corsets and stays. Dressmakers make the use of real whalebone the excuse for charging especially high prices for their work, and the genuine article is vastly more durable and satisfactory than any substitute. A strange case is reported from Lewiston, Me., of a man named Whitman who possesses wonderful power at his fingers' tips. When he holds his arms at an angle of 45 degrees he becomes a Samson in strength. He easily lifts cows, toys with tat men on tables as though they were but leathers, shifts pianos and does many other wonderful things. Strangest of all, he has been offered enormous salaries by museum managers and lias declined them because of modesty. An association of artists, architects and citizens with artistic tastes is to be formed in the endeavor to raise the artistic standard ot' the public buildings of New York City aud the statues and monuments in the parks and other public places.

POPULAR SCIENCE NOTES.

New Two-Color Printing Press.— Mr. F, X. Hooper of Baltimore, Md., has invented a rotary printing press which prints two colors at once from Princeton curved stereotyped plates. The press is the first iu which this double-color printing has been accomplished by the rotary principle. Kept Time for Two Centuries. — For nearly two centuries the clock built by Langley Bradley, in 1703, has been going steadily in the southwestern campanile of St. Paul’s Cathedral. London: but, although the works remain in excellent condition, the authorities ordered its removal, and it has been taken down to make room for a clock of modern construction. People'in the city are asking why this expense should have been incurred, for St. Paul’s clock was one of the few which kept accurate time, and there was apparently no reason why it should not have continued to do so. It was an eight-day clock, and struck the hours and quarters. The pendulum is sixteen feet long, and the bob weighs 18 > pounds, and yet was suspended by a spring scarcely the thickness of a shilling. It cost £3OO. For the present, and probably du'riug the next few weeks, the dock-dials will remain without the minute hands, which are nine feet eiglit inches in length and weigh seventy-five pounds. The hour hands are about four feet shorter.—[London Telegraph.

Colors of the Ocean. —A number of interesting charts, illustrating the colors of the ocean, have been presented to the Paris Museum by Prof. Pouchot, with accompanying explanations. It is well known that M. Pouchot some time ago proved, after extended investigations,that the differences in the color of various parts of the ocean are due to differences in the water itself and not to the presence of vegetation and insects, and the new charts in question confirm this view. It seems that lie and his associate, M. de Curfort, watched together the Atlantic from Spitzbergen to Scotland and the Norwegian coast.and with such thoroughness as to admit of nothing escaping their attention. Their observations show that the transition from one color to another is often very rapid; that near Spitzbergen the water is blue, then it changes to green as soon as the Norwegian fiords are entered. For such sudden changes no sufficient cause has up to the present time been assigned; and, though it has been known for centuries that blue is the prevailing color in active water, the most recently published observations show that such a color distinguishes other localities also. Valuable Results of Experiments Upon Animals. —ln a receut article Sir Andrew Clark gives a brief list of the benefits mankiud have derived from experiments upon animals. He says: ‘‘Bv experimental research we have discovered the conditions for using with efficacy aud safety almost all the stronger and more useful drugs, such as digitalis, chloroform, ether, chloral, nitrate of amyl, ni-tro-glycerine, and many others. By experiments on animals we have discovered the nature and relations of infectious diseases, and how in some measure to control the development and spread of fevers, cholera, anthrax and septicemia. Through experiments on animals [the legsof Galvani'simmortal frogs.-Ed.] we have received the electric telegraph, and all the various services which electricity now renders to the conveniences and uses of mani And yet with all these services before us, one cannot (in England) scratch the neck of a tabbitfor the advancement of knowledge without becoming a legal criminal. But, on the other hand, for your pleasure or for your profit, or for any other object than the promotion of knowledge, you may, without let or hindranoe, beat, starve, mutil ite or destroy as many animals as you C lease. Knowledge can only be advanced y experiment . . . aud lastly, if experimental research hardens the hearts of experimenters it is only too plain that an active antagonism to it begets a disregard of accuracy, a violation of charity, and a spirit of" calumny tint have no parallel among ordinary men.’’—[lndependent.

WE HAVE OUTSTRIPPED EUROPE.

The United States lias Become the Greutest Manufacturing Country. Air. R. 11. Edmonds, one of the most eminent authorities on the conditions of recent progress in the United States, contributes to the Engineering Magazine an interesting aud valuable paper entitled “A Decade of Marvelous Progress,” from which a few conclusions are extracted. The United States is now the leading manufacturing country in the world. We have far outstripped all other nations iu the magnitude of our industrial operations. It is almost incomprehensible that in ten years the increase in capital invested in manufactures should exceed the total invested only twenty years ago. The value ot our manufactured products increased about 60 per cent.; add GO per cent, to the output of 1890 end we would have $13,703,000,000 in I£o0 —but that is too much to expect. The same rate of growth in mining interests in this decade ns in the last would make our mineral output in I£oo nearly $1,200,000,000, while a smaller percentage of gain, only equaling in volume the total increase in 1890 over 1830, would bring the figures over $950,000,000. If our coal miners add to the output of 1890 as many tons as they added to that of 1880, ignoring in this the percentage of growth, 217,003,030 tons will be the production of 1900. No other country in the world ever advanced in population and wealth as the United Suites is doing. The progress of the past shows no signs of halting. In fact, the development of our foreign and domestic trade and commerce and of our industrial interests is steadily broadening out.

Contrast our position and condition with Europe, with resources surpassing those of all Europe, with wealth creating possibilities in soil, minerals, timber, and climate unequaled by Europe, and practically without limit to their profitable utilization, with a homogeneous population of 63,000,000 people unvexed by the arbitrary regulations of half a dozen different governments and free from the drain of standing armies, the United States justly commands the wonder and admiration of the world. Gieat Britain is no longer the manufacturing center of the world, for we have taken the foremost position in that line. Its vast iron and steel business is yearly increasing in cost of production, while ours is decreasing. It cannot meet the world’s glowing demand for iron and steel because it cannot increase its production to any great extent. It produces less pig-iron now than it did ten years ago. Much of its ore it imports from distant countries. Its cotton is nil imported. It spends about $750,000,000 a year for foreign food-stuffs. On the continent every nation is burdened with debt and none of them can ever hope to pay off its obligations. Measured by their natural resources and advantages for continued growth against their debts and the many disadvantages under which they labor they are practically bankrupt. In all of them the cost of production and living must steadily increase. In the United States we have scarcely laid the foundation for our future greatness. Iu natural resources we are richer than all of Europe; we are paying off our debts faster than they are due, we have barely scratched the ground in the development of our mineral wealth and our agricultural growth cau scarcely be limited.

The French Bourgeosie.

The bourgeosie is that immense body of the French nation which represents l’epargne, or, in other words, capitalized savings. The bourgeois is the man who has made his money cent by cent during the first three-quarters of his life, and who spends it in pretty much the same proportion during the last remaining quarter. As long as he works he is not a bourgeois. But as soon as he retires from business and lives on his income, however small it may be, he becomes Monsieur Bourgeois. To reach this goal has been his oue ambition through a lifetime of want and labor, and I imagine Heaven itself would appear an almost superfluous recompense to those who have attained this stage of human felicity. The bourgeois thinks ot nothing, aspires to nothing, but to make money, not in a gay, off-hand, haphazard way, but ever cautiously, calculating over a centime or silently grasping after a penny. And the bourgeois in this case means the woman as well as the man, the wife as well as the husband, for both work on untiringly, attached by the same bonds to the yoke of 'labor, I remember once accompanying a friend to a confectioner’s. She was a wealthy American who spent money lavishly. On this particular occasion she paid an unusually larjfe bill, and while waiting for the change ate a tempting “fondant.” We were leaving the shop when she suddenly remembered it, and, turning to the saleswoman, with one of her beaming reception smiles, she said: “I have eaten two of your pretty bonbons; what do I owe you?” “Two cents,” answered the woman, unhesitatingly. Had not these two centimes been discounted already by the proprietor? No Frenchman throws away two sous on a client unwittingly; no more than a French client would think of eating two sous’ worth of candy without paying for it. Tne bourgeois knows too well what it costs to make two sous in an old country, and the rich man knows exactly the amount of pleasure he is entitled to expect from the same two sous—[The Marquise de San Carlo 9, in North American Review.

Maine Fishing.

Maine as a marvelous fishing ground for “the Boston folks” is by no means a new idea. Allen Merrill, of Dexter, the jovial stable keeper and long time deputy sheriff, was once a participant in a fishing adventure that made the eyes of some Boston visitors to that town stick out with amazement. It was way back in the early days of the village when he was “a little chick’’ of a boy and worked in Favor’s Hotel, a hostelry then the pride of the town, but for many years well-nigh forgotten. The Boston "fellows were in the bar-room in the evening, and were feeling pretty smart, when Favor, who was a great joker, said-to them: “I’ve got the smartest boy there is any where round, and I’ll bet you $5 he can sit down right in the middle of this room and catch a fish.” The bet was promptly taken and Favor said: “Come, Allen! Get your hook and line.” He did as he was bid, and in a minute Favor raised a trap door in the floor, into which he dropped his hook. In less than two minutes he drew up c plump shiner. The “company”, were completely taken back at losing their money, but on investigation they found that the end of the hotel jutted over the bed of the mill stream, so that the fishing process vyas an entirely natural one. The Summer hotels at the fishing grounds might take a hint from the incident, and locate so that city guests could find “fishing on the premises.” —[Lewiston (Me.) Journal.

TIIE MUSIC OF THE PIHES. BY JOHN TROTWOOD MOORE. Far away like fairy fugles, when the shade* of night are on, Comes again the murmuring music of mv childhood days agone. Come again the Bcented clover and the apple blossom’* spray, Anil iho spots of softened sunshine falling through the latticed way; Come again my blithe companions, trooping f om the hallowed shrines, And they come with F.lan music, with the music of the pines. Now they pass in joyful columns once ag in before my eyes; In their laughter in the South wiml, on their cheeks the glowing skies. Aud again a hoy I'm coasting on the pine hill’s covered side, While a resinous perfume rises from my runners as they slide. At the foot I stop to listen, as I delve in mem’ y’s mines. To the joyous laughter mingled with the music of the pines. Now I see the yellow sunlight falling on the cones and spears. And childish dreams come back to me through all these checker’d years. llow the band above mo thunders as the swaying tree-tops shake. And now it falls as calmly sweet as stailight on the lake. And as the passing pinions whisper sweet as heavenly signs, I almost see the angels in that hand among the pines Oh, how often i :i the glory of the days forever gone , I have listened with a rapture to that mimic Alpine horn. There’s a solace in its soughing that nooaithly music brings: There's a cadence in its wooing never hear ! in court o kings; Th re’s a rhythm iu the rustle of its low ea chanting lines. For heaven’s swe t;st zephyrs made the music of the pines. I have heard the martial music of a couquering army come, With the b'are of boastful bugle and the thunder of the drum; I have listened to the measures, of a sweet Italian band Till my yearning senses wandered like a bi d in Edeuland; But there’s no artis ic music e’er conceived in mortal minds Like the music of our childhood iu the bam] among the pines.

OLLA PODRIDA.

Drill Manual for Amazon*. —‘'Do you know that in our Amazonian drill we have to very considerably vary the movement prescribed in the manual of arms?” remarked the stage manager of a theatrical company while supervising a rehearsal. ‘‘Take the plays, aud they are many, in which women appear armed with rifles. Should the rifles be brought to a carry by being rested against the hip and shoulder, as is done by soldiers, the result would be anything but satisfactory, for as women have broader hips and narrower shoulders than men, the guns would be all aslant. We have to teach them to hold the stock forward of the hips, and it is difficult to prevent a backward slant of the piece, but this is not readily perceptible. When a line of women assume the ‘position of the soldier' we have to make another innovation in the tactics. The regulations prescribe that the soldiers should touch knees, but the Amazons have to touch hips. Drilling Amazons requires not a little ingenuity.”—[St. Louis Post-Dis-patcli.

Commemorating Historic Spots and Sites. —“ Massachusetts takes the lead,” says the Buffalo Commercial, “in the good work of locating and commemorating historical spots and sites.” Oh, no. New York State took the lead several years ago. In 188 J Albany celebrated her two hundredth birthday with much pomp and ceremony. On that high occasion she located and commemorated a number, upward of fifty, of the more interesting historical spots and sites in which she is so rich. One of the memorial'tablets wdiich she set up marks the spot where her second City Hall stood, in which the famous Congress of 1754 met and prepared a union of the several colonies for mutual defence. Another of these tablets records that “Upon this corner stood the house occupied by and wherein died Aneke lanse Bogardus, the former owner of the Trinity Church property, New York.” Such a tablet scheme is worthy of all commendatii n. Every city in the country which has any uistory of general interest ought to adopt it. —[N. Y. Tribune. The Skulls at Malvern Hill.—l think the ghastliest sight I ever saw,” said Sheriff "Barnes yesterday, “was during the late war on the field of Malvern Hill. I was in the battle and a more terrific engagement I never witnessed. But that is not the exact time to which I refer. About a year after the battle was fought my regiment was ordered out into the neighborhood of the same old field. We went over the very same ground, and there in the open field, exposed to the torrid sun, were bleaching the bones of our comrades who fell in that aw’ful engagement. It was a sight I shall never forget. On every side lay a waste of skulls—skulls of almost every shape and size—a modern Golgotha. We could not identify them, however, and could only gaze with a feeling of sorrow on the aggregate pile of human head? that had once been full of human life and feeling. After the deeper emotions excited by the spectacle had worn away, I thought of the infinite variety of shapes, that were presented by the heap. There were no two of the same shape or size, and it was rather a matter of curious though melancholy interest to inspect the different skulls as they lay crumbling in t.hc sultry atmosphere of that August day. It was, after all, a mournful sight, aod one that was full of abiding pathos, to think that all that was left of the gallant men that figured in the fight of that eventful day was a lot of skulls that were now beyond recognition and that would soon be a part of the dust on which wc were standing. Such is a picture of that awful sight, and only one of the many horrid scenes in the portraiture of war.”

AROUND THE HOUSE.

Put coffee grounds on your house plants. v Equal proportions of alum and resin will keep paste from moulding. Pickles or vinegar will not keep in a stone jar which has ever been used for lard or any other kind of grease. Persons who use kerosene lamps will be glad to know that if the wicks are soaked in strong vinegar twenty-four hours and thoroughly dried before being inserted all smoke will be avoided, the wicks will last twice as long, and inoreased brilliant light will be obtained.