Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 October 1893 — Page 4

THE POPPIES IIT THE CORN. When the mist in pearly columns Rises o'er tha hilltops gray, And the dews of < arly daw. ing In the grasses melt away, Then the sun in softened splendor Sheds bis first rays thro’ the morn, Lo, they kiss tlio si opy faces Of th poppies in the corn O’er the scone there falls a sil nee. All the twittering song-bipds still. As the lark, his far flight taking, Circles toward the distant hill. Up and upward, 11 es triumphant. Earth-bred warbler, bear, n-born. Tills long steals dow i f.om clondkiLl O’er the pop, ies iu the orn. Slowly comes tho hush of noontide, Kot a leaf sways on tho tr e , Not a dew-drop on the glasses, Not tho whisper ■ f a b eeze. Glows the sun in scorching fury. One wee butterfly fori rn Panting falls in dying struggles On the poppies iu t .e corn. Soft a breeze comes rnstling v< r, Sighing thru’ the cedars tall. Stirs the grapes in hanging clusters On the mold’riog v.ne-elad wall, Sinks the sun in amber glory, Dies the day as night is born, One wee star peeps through the tw light At the poppies in th: corn, —[Maud E. Kendrick, in Bos'on Glob.',

JEAN DE THOMMERAY.

It was ic. the country, near the forest not far from the Seine, in the modest villa where I hoped to spend my old age, that I saw Jean de Thommeray for the first time. He was scarcely twentytwo. Some pages signed with my mime had won his heart to me, and he presented himself with no other recommendation than his good appearan- o and his desire to know me. The sympathy of the young has an irresistible attraction. It is very sweet to be able to draw them when one is approaching the autumn of life. I was the more willing to give him a welcome that I could do so without any effort, for he was really charming. I see him now as he stood at my gate, a slender, noble-looking fellow, his face shadowed with the down nf youth; straight nose, blue eyes, fair forehead; his hair, flue and of an ashy blonde, waved above the temples. His ease of manner and language, the elegant simplicity that showed in his drets, everything, leflected credit on the fireside by which he had grown up. It was a clear April day: we walked together in the woods of Meudon. Though many years divided us, we conversed like two friends. He had generous impulses, holv illusions, all the happy and ardent feelings of his age. He believed in the gcoJ. lie admired the beautiful, he dreamed of love and glory. Where did he come from? In what latitude was he bom? What star had shone over his cradle? Who and what was this Jean de Thommeray, who at the end of an hour’s talk had spoken neither of women, nor horses, nor yet of his friends’ incomes? Thanks to the confidences he gave me without my asking, 1 soon found out all about him. His father, who came of a good old Breton family, had studied in Paris in the days when patriotism and liberty ranked as high as letters and arts among the young men of modern ideas. The Breton gentleman felt the influences of thia awakening in the flood of thought, and, without giving up the traditions of honor in his family, he set rail with the current. He loved, with a pure, delicate, romantic love, a poor, young girl of good family, of Irish descent, and married her. Whenhis studies ended, he went back to Brittany. The hereditary domain that sheltered their tenderness was in <sne of the wild and quiet valleys of Old America. It consisted of a farm and manor, of a castle, which was protected by an old grove from the winds that swept across the valley from the mountains. Here Monsieur de Thommeray lived, like his fo:»fathers, the life of a country gentleman, hunting, riding horseback, visiting neighbors, improving his land; while his wife “la belle Irlandaise,” as they called her, gave hereself up to domestic affairs and governed her household with grace and authority. Though he had taken root in this primitive life, he was faithful to the tastes and inclinations of his youthful days. He never went beyond the circle of his remembrances, and for him nothing beyond them seemed to exist. Time, which never stops, seemed to have forgotten him on the way. It was a happy family—he, his wife, and three sons. The elder and the second son showed no taste for study or literature, but Jean, the little one, more delicate than his brothers, grew up under his mother's gentle wing with a strong sense of the beauties and harmonies of

creation and a love of books. While his brothers walked and rode over the farm and led a hardy and rustic life, Jean, read, dreamed,or composed little Breton poems that his mother proudly compared to “ Moore’s Irish Melodies,” and that excited the admiration of his father. His brothers, too, were proud of his gifts and Ills charming ways, and even of his weakness when a little fellow, for that seemed to claim their protection. But one morning, not long before the time I first met him. Jean embraced them all and set out for Paris, filled with the same illusions that his father had had before him. Two or three years passed. I did not know what had become of Jean. I supposed that he must have left Paris, and that he was living peacefully in his father's home. He had evidently forgotten me. I was not surprised at that. As for me, I thought of him from time to time; A journey I made into Brittany revived in my heart the memory of my young friend, when I learned one day that I was only a few leagues from the Manor of Thommeray. I arrived at nightfall at the house I loved to think of as the asylum of happiness. I found the family assembled, and, not seeing Jean, naturally I asked for him. M. de Thommeray answered me briefly. “Monsieur,” he said, “we have only two sons now— these whom you see. We never apeak of the one we have lost." Was Jean dead? No; the attitude of M. de Thommeray, his voice, his language and bis gesture were not those of a father who has buried bis son. Durmy visit his mother found an oppor tuaity of speaking to me alone. She told e( her eon and of the sorrow }je had brought upon them—how he hue. coinpromised himself, failing lower and tower fiom day to day, in the wicked world cf Paris, and how bis family no longer looked upon him as their own. She made me promise to go to see him, to write to her and to let her know how he lived, to hide nothing from her. Ould this be the same Jean do Thommessy whom I had known? could be have fallen so low from the heights where I bad left him?

I went back to Paris. I found him living in richly furnished apartments, end neld out his hand to me with an easy grace, as if he had not a pang in the world—as if the luxury, in the midst of which I had surprised him. had been bought by the efforts of a glorious and honest labor, instead of the fruits of the gaming table. He to excuse himself for having so long neglected me. “All that is excused,” I said. . “Iliave come from Brittany- where I saw your parents, and as you have always spoken of them with respect, lam only fulfilling a duty when I come to tell you of the sad state in which 1 found them” “Thanks. Monsieur, you need not go on.” He interrupted me calmly and with a tone of great urbanity. "It is nothing new you tell me. -My way of living is a subject of scandal and trouble to my family. My brothers disown me, my mother weeps in secret, my father no longer knows me. Wall, sir, be mv judge. I an not a saint. Not being able to reform tho age as [ once thought of do : ng, you remember, I have ended by adopting its ways and wearing its livery. It seems to me that, in a society where money is a god, not to be rich would bean impiety. I have played, I do not deny it, and I have always won. By my skillful playing I keep up the state of the house and belongings I won by my luck. My parents lived according to the manners of their time. I live according to the ways of my own.” It was sad to hear this young man exult in his fall and glory in his ruin. All about him betrayed the habits of the life he now led. His very smile, once so sweet and clear, had a cold expression like the hard luster of steel. He told me his story—how he had been basely deceived and robbed of his last centime by a woman whom he thought deservirg of his heart’s devotion, in spite of his mother’s penetration, which had sounded the depths of unworthiness in the character hidden beneath the charms of beauty and au artless manner; how, when he came to his senses, his youth was dead, and a new and a worse man had come to live within him. He believed no more in anything good. “There are no longer any women!” he said.

“You are mistaken," I replied. “We have mothers, sisters, friends, wives, who every day and every hour quietly accomplish miracles of goodness, devotion and charity. Society is not as bad as you think it, but you, you, sir, are much worse than I feared. Still, why not return to your family, who are grieving for you? Your youth is not dead, it is waiting for you there." "It is too late! 1 must confess to you that since my sojourn at Baden the gambling fever has never left me. Let us live and enjoy ourselves—after us the deluge! It is now my hour for the bourse, and to my regret I am obliged to leave you.”

“One word more,” I said, rising. “Urtil now you have been successful; but fortune will not always be on your side. What will you do when she betrays you? For that day will surely come.” “Let it come. lam ready." “You will kill yourself," I said. He did not answer. “And God —and your mother?" After a moment’s hesitation he held out his hand. 1 took it. “You have fallen low indeed, my boy. This explains the sorrow of your family. I understand it, and I share it. But, even now, I do not give you up ” He smiled sadly and 1 left him. A few days after this I wrote to Madame de Thommeray and gave an account of my interview with Jean. I did not try to sec him again. Other thoughts occupied me. War was declared. Tho enemy was already marching on Paris; the world was filled with the noise of our disasters. Whoever did not see Paris during the last days of the siege cannot form an idea of the physiognomy of the city at that time. The confusion and flight brought on by the first news of our defeat gave way to manly thoughts and noble resolves. Every one was ready for great sacrifices. A current of heroism ran through all hearts. Men watched on the ramparts; citizens, transformed into soldiers, drilled in the squares and gardens with their muskets and rifles; all classes mingled and fused together, forming only one soul—the soul of their country. 1 lived in the streets during those feverish days, attracted by every noise, mingling in the crowd, gathering all the news. One morning on the Quai Voltaire, between the Pont-Royal and the Bridge des Saints-Peres, I met Jean, face to face.

“At last!” I said, greetinghim. “And you have staid? lam glad.” “Yes, I have staid here,” he replied. “I was obliged to look after my fortune. Now it is all arranged. I have drawn out all my money, and I leave this evening to go and live in a foreign land.” “You are going away I" I exclaimed. “Whenyouroountry is in agony youthink of leaving her?” “My country, Monsieur! The wise man carries his country wherever he goes. You, yourself, what are you doing here:" “I have not returned only to go away again. lam not worth much; but here 1 have known good and bad days. Paris has given me whatever good I have in me. I wish to share her dangers, if only by my piesence. I will live in her emotions, 1 will helpto bear her anguish, and if we must suffer hunger, I shall have the honor of suffering with her! But you, Jean de Thommeray! But you ! I knew you were changed" for the worse, but I did not think you were fallen so low. The land is invaded, and you, a young man, instead of seizing a musket, catch hold of your pocketbook I The fortunes of France are on the verge of ruin, and you have no other care thau to realize your future. To morrow the enemy will be at our gates, and you strap up your valise and fly like a coward 1 It was not enough to have plunged ynur family into mourning and despair. You must inflict this shame, too, upon them ! ’ A quick blush rose to bis forebeac. A light shone in his eyes. “Pardon, monsieur, pardon. These are very grand words, it seems to me. You are too young and I am too old for us to understand each other. lam not running away. lam going away. There is nothing here to keep me. Paris does not interest me. It is only just that she should be punished. As for my family, they are safe enough from the dangers of war, and I do not see why I should be forbidden to seek for myself, ia Brussels, or in London or Florence, the peace and security they enjoy in Brittany.”

My heart was sick and disgusted. I turned away, when suddenly Jean started with surprise. “Listen,” he said. I listened, and heard a strange music, the tones of which, vague at first and indistinct, grew louder and seemed to be coming toward us. I looked, too, as I listened. I saw beyond the bridge of Solferino an immense crowd, who came on singing. It was a slow, grave chant, almost religious, and had nothing in common with tbs bursts of song to

which we were accustomed. Jeat leaned against the parapet. I saw that he was very pale. In the meantime, the confused mass approached nearer and nearer, and became less and less confused. Now, I recogi ized the chant de la Bretagne and then sound of the binio',’ the gardes mobiles of Finisterre were entering Paris. The tult or ermine in their military caps, the gray cloth uniforms, the knapsack strapped behind, tell all about them as they advance with a correct and firm step; marching by platoons and filling the whole width of the quai. At their head on horseback rides the ohief of the battalion; behind him. the chaplain and two lieutenants. The head of the column is now only a few steps from us. It is my turn to be startled. I look at Jean. Ilia hand falls upon mine. “My father! My two brothers!" he says in a low voice. And he sees passing before him, under their most striking forms, the eternal truths that he has so long disowned or forgotten—God, country, duty and family ! The long pageant of his honest and noble days defiles before him singing as the troops go by. I gave him the last blow. On one of the balconies of the qu i I have just seen his mother. “You unfortunate fellow!" I exclaim. “You said there were no longer any women. Look, there is one; do you recognize her?" Madame de Thommeray waves her handkerchief, the Breton chant redoubles in fervor, and the chief of the battalion, with the courtesy of a knightly gentleman, bows in his saddle and salutes her with his sword. Mute and motionless, with sad eyes and dry eyelids, Jean seems turned to stone. I leave him to the mercy of God. The next day. in the courtyard of the Louvre, the Commandant de Thommeray called the roll of his battalion. The call finished, he passed down the ranks, when a soldier stepped out and said:

“Commandant, one of your men km forgotten." “What is your name!" “My name is Jean,” answered the volunteer, lowering his eyes. “Who are you?” “A man who has lived badly." “What do you wish?” *— “To die well.” “Are you rich or poo:?” “Yesterday I possessed an ill-gotten fortune. I have resigned it voluntarily. I have now only my musket and my knapsack.". “That is well.” And with a gesture be ordered the young man to return to the ranks. There was a long silence. The Commandant had again taken his place in front of the battalion. “Jean de Thommeray!” he called out. A manly voice answered: "•Present!" — [From the French of Jules Sandeau.

How to Make a Scrap Book.

A scrap book should not be composed of miscellaneous materials, but confined to some special purpose. Let tho collector decide rightly whether pictures or printed texts are to be collected. In pictures the collector should confine himself to a definite subject, whether portraits, historical landscapes, or some branch of natural history. A book of famous authors may be collected from publishers’ catalogues alone. In almost every city or country a volume of local scenery may be collected. The collector should especially seek to save what is likely to be lost. For a book in which to paste the cuttings almost any bound volume will do, especially if its pages show a wide margin, and the print caji be readily covered by two widths of ordinary newspaper clippings. The margin may be used for notes, including dates, and a few explanatory memoranda. The clippings should be kept for a week or so before they are pasted down, because a second judgment may rule them out. It is quite safe to advise collectors that no cutting will do unless it bids fair to be fresh and intelligible a year after it has been honored with a place in the scrap-book. If the pages become too thick for the cover, cut out two or three leaves after each page filled with th> clippings. When there is the slightest possibility that the scrap-book may be used for publishing purposes,or that any of its entries may be cut out for other uses, cover one page only. But on the page used the clippings should be packed closely together. If jrossible, each clipping should retain the “rule” which marks the end of a printed paragraph or poem. The column lines need not be retained. In fact, it is best to cut newspapers always along these lines. Ragged edges, of course, should be avoided, and the mucilage with which the clippings are pasted down should be used sparingly, lest it ooze through the paper or exude under the edge. Flour paste is better than mucilage, and what is known as a photographer’s paste is excellent.

Came Home in a Shipwreck.

Among the shipwrecked sailors who were saved by the life-saving crews along the New Jersey coast in the recent storm was one grizzled old salt who was picked up near South Amboy in an exhausted condition, but still clinging to a broken spar. When able to speak he said his name was Jacob Wood, and that a quarter of a century ago he was well known in that section of the countiy. He had sailed away as captain of the bark Emma in the early part of 1871, leaving a family at Morristown, N. J. For twentytwo years he has been drifting about the world, and what had become of his family be did not know. Captain Wood had become injured by the floating wreckage, so he was cared for in a house in the neighborhood. Mrs. Frances Briggs, a resident of Brooklyn, happened to be visiting some friends near South Amboy, and when she learned that the shipwrecked sailor's name was Jacob Wood, she astonished her friends by saying he must be her grandfather, who was supposed to have been lo»t at sea over twenty years ago. Then she hurried to the house and found her hopes realized. The captain’s son has taken Lira to his home.—[Chicago Herald.

Scavengers of the Body.

Floating about the body with the blood are numerous cells which seem to go around on their own hook. In the lungs they are found in great numbers. When they come across any disease germ or other foreign particle, they eat it up or carry it away to some place where it cannot do any harm. Thus they serve the purpose of scavengers. Unfortunately, so many wicked germs are floating about in the dust that occasionally th f make their way into the system of a heelthy person and cause trouble. Most dreadful of all such micro-organisms ia the bacillus of consumption, which breeds in the human lungs and destroys them. Cholera has been exciting much dismay of late, but it is a complaint of trifling importance compared with consumption. In Europe 3,000 persons die every day of consumption, while in the United States the same disease kills 100,000 people a year.—[Washington Star.

SOMEWHAT STRANGE.

ACCIDENTS AND INCIDENTS OF EVERYDAY LIFE. - —— (Jueer Facts and Thrillins ||dventurea Which Show That Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction. John Wethered, a farmer of Manchester, Ind., soaked some seeds in alcohol and put them on his barn floor. Sparrows stole them, and ware soon ns drunk a» lords. Cats killed 100 of the feathered sot*, ail( | ate all they could hold, and then the cats were drunk, too. Business must he dull on the Santa Fe Railroad. The other day the brakeman <>f an accommodating accommodation train stopped the train to chase a raccoon into a well. Next day they brought along a ladder and one of them went into the well and caught Old Zip. Towns County, Ga., boasts of a novel specimen of the "white” negro. '1 his one has been “turning” for several years, until the left side of his face is perfectly white, while the right side remains almost jet black. Negroes whose skin changes from black to a ligh’ brown or reddish white are not uncommon in the South, but the change mostly shows iu blotches, giving them a mottled appearance.

That there is “gold in wool” has been found literally ns well as figuratively true. According to an Australian contemporary, some gold dust was discovered in a London wool-sorting room, and was traced to a parcel of Californian fleeces. When the pasturage was exploied, a valuable “placer” was found on tho estate.

Mbs. James Rose of Otterville, Mo., had a bird in a cage hanging iu the yard. A blacksnake, according to the local editor, who cannot lie, thrust his head through the bars and swallowed the bird as far us the wire would let him. There he stuck, and was killed. And the bird still sings in the cage. A queer lawsuit was that brought recently in a Loudon police court by a gentleman who had claimed that he had been swindled in buying a dog. It was a fox terrier wan anted to howl whenever some over-musical neighbors commenced their performances. But the dog wouldn’t, and the purchaser wanted to recover what he cost. Out in Wayne County, Kan., is a considerable grove of pine trees seven miles square, all of whose lower branches have been broken off. This puzzles newcomers, but old settlers remember that the mischief was done several years ago, when an enormous swarm of pigeons came and roosted on all the trees and broke them down.

Uncle Joe Ardle, an old Georgia colored man living on the Savannah River, thinks it about time to take to the woods. After the earthquake of 188 G he was afraid to live on the ground, so he built a hut in the branches of u huge oak tree, where ho lived contentedly until the storm of a few weeks blew him and his hut clear out of the tree and almost into the river.

In 1791 a family of Crooks, who had come from Bolton, England, to Mansfield, Mass., began a correspondence with relatives at home. The correspondence has been -kept up since without a break by some member of the families, but the correspondents had not seen each other until this year, when Mr. Thomas Crook of Bolton, coming to the Fair, found and visited three generations of Crooks in Mansfield.

The oldest industry in England, which dates back to prehistoric times, is still being carried on at Brandon in Suffolk. Many people of that village earn their living by making flints with which to strike fire and for gunlocks. Tinderboxes with flint and steel are largely used in Spain and -Italy, and by travelers in sparsely settled and uncivilized lands, and gun-flints go to Africa, where flintlock muskets are still in use. A novel way of smuggling has just been brought to light by the French authorities on the Franco-Swiss frontier. It has been discovered that about twentytwo thousand watches, valued at two millions francs, have entered France in the space of six months without having paid the duty. A great portion of these were discovered packed in tins of a condensed milk company, from which, of course, the milk had been taken out and then carefully closed up again.

An old farmer named Irwin is buried at the top of one of the barren mountains that tower over the Clearfield and Mahoning Railroad, between Blooms Run and Bridgeport, Penn. Many years ago the old man was working on his land, and he found a grave in the rock which was filled with leaves and other stuff. He made a request that his remains be buried in that lonely spot in the stone grave made by unknown hands. It is said that the grave was such a snug fit that a shovel could hardly be run down between the coffin and stony walls of the grave. A stag hunt was in progress the other day at Exmoor in England, and the terrified animal finally became very hard pressed. He tore over hill, dale and common, and finally, in a very headlong fashion, took refuge in the dining room of one Dr. Budd. Two young feminine Budds were being served with dinner nt the moment the stag plunged in. Their unexpected visitor backed up against the sideboard and faced the pack of hounds, who had promptly fellowed him in. The hunters came up in a moment, called off their dogs, secured the deer by a rope, and dragged him out to receive his coup de grace outside. The Misses Budd, instead of fainting or having hysterics, professed themselves delighted with the adventure and insisted on the hunters staying to dinner, which they did.

One of the rarest books extant is the first edition of “Don Quixote,” ..published in Madrid in 1605. Recently a collector in the city of Mexico while examining a pile of books for sale in one of the remoter wards of the city came across an ancient edition of “Quixote,” but mistaking the date concluded it was not a first edition. Next day he discovered by reference to his library that the book was a genuine first edition. He went back to find the treasure but it had been sold for waste paper in the interim, and although search has been made in every small shop in the ward the precious volume cannot be found. A few years ago a Californian book collector bought in an old bookstall in the Mexican capitol a first folio edition of Shakespeare, paying sls for a bcok worth $6,000.

A strange story comes from Doughtrey eouaty, Georgia. It is that of a negro being “traed" by snakes, SOSMthing hitherto unheard of—at least, * Geor-

gia. It seems that the negro waa walking in the woods, when he heard a hissing sound near.him. Thinking that he was about to be bitten by a rattlesnake, and not knowing which way to turn, he climbed an oak tree. When he had reached a pl-ce of safety on one of the loftiest limbs be looked down a id, to his horror, beheld ten or a dozen large rattlesnakes at the base of the tree, springing their rattles and preparing for deadly combat. Horrified, he witnessed the battle, which raged long and furiously, until at length four snakes lay dead, while the rest crawled away. The negro then slid down from the tree and took to his heels, leaving the dead snakes where they were.

Ix Siam, when there is a question at law between two parties, and a scaicity of witnesses to establish the truth in the case, it is customary to resort to the water teat. Both parties are required to dive simultaneously into deep water, and the one that stays the longest under is adjudged the truth teller, uud gets the verdict. It is said that there is a merchant in Bingkok who is fond of litigation, but i- rather too old to undergo the water test succ- ssfully, to say nothing of the fact that he can not swim a stroke, lie was so frequently worsted in the courts that he took his son and placed him under the tuition of the most expert swimmer and diver in the Kingdom. In due course the young man became exceedingly adept, and was then made a member of the firm. Now whenever there is a case to be tried this young fellow is the representative of the house. The firm often leaves the court dripping with water, but al ways “without a stain on his character.”

Tub skill <-f the Esquimau dog drivers with the whips, by which they control their unruly teams, is sai l to be someteiug marvellous. The whip consists of a rawhide lash about forty feet long, fastened to a handle not over six inches in length. A conttst was arrange.! among them in the presence of an explorer. A nickel was the prize. It was buried in the ground with just enough of the edge showing to allow it to be seen. The contestants stood in a line the length of their whips away from it and abouteight feetapart. The most expert whip was a little man not more than four feet high, wi h slanting eyes and a spiky little beard that made him look very Japanese. AJmoveinent’of his wrist sent the forty feet of lash curving buck in a straight line like a long snake. Another movement and it ca ne forward, noiselessly. shooting tl rough the air just above the surface of the ground, until, with a loud report, the tip end of the lash struck the exact spot where the coin lay buried, dug it from the ground and brought it spinning back to the Esquimau artist. Such precision and such force are certainly unknown to any other whips in the world. One of these fellows could cut a man to pieces with his whip, if he had occasion to.

Among the attractions of the little village of Quiambaug, in Connecticut, are five rocking stones. Quiambaug is a part of the township of Stonington. Mr. David A. Wells has published a paper on the “erratic boulders” in that part of New London County, and he attributes their origin to a great glacier that had its terminal moraine first in Long Island Sound and later at the mouth of the Thames. lie thinks that the glacier deposited a great quantity of rocks in the Sound and on the Connecticut shore. Fisher’s Island is buttressed with these boulders, and they have been found submerged in the waters of the Sound along the coa'-t. The New London Day says of the rooking or balancing atones in Quiambaug: “There is no doubt that they are as excellent examples of the glacial period as can be found anywhere. They vary in size from a stone weighing about three Tons on the lands of Miss Nancy J. Moredock, to one weighing forty tons on the farm occupied by Janies Lord. Another stone is found on the lands of Elias Davis and two on the farm of Ambrose Miner. Perhaps the best specimen of the whole lot is the rocking stone on the land of Miss Moredock. It is about four feet long, two feet wide, and three feet high, and it oscillates about five inches, and can be rocked by the pressure of two fingers. It sits on a sloping ledge, and it looks as if it could be easily rolled off and down the hill, but the combined strength of half-a-dozen men could not move it out of its place.”

“Lines of No Variation.”

In my recent article on the variations of tbecoinpass I find that one important particular was omitted, viz.: Mention of the fact that there are certain places on the earth’s surface whieh are situated upon what the astronomers call “line of no variation.” At present this line passes near Wilmington, N. C., Charlotteville, Va., and Pittsburg, Pa. On the eastern side of this remarkable invisible line the variation of the needle is toward the west, increasing with the distance the compass is removed from it. Thus we find that at New York City the variation is six degrees west, and at Portland, Me., it is 12 degrees in the same direction - On the other side of this ■•line of no variation” the declination is, of course, toward the east, varying from 1 to 20 degrees between Pittsburg and San Francisco, depending on the longitude of the place of observation. This variation undergoes what is technically said to be a “progressive change.” always vibrating between certain limits. In the Eastern States (States east of the “line of uo variation”) this progressive change to the westward is at the rate of about one degree in every 12 years. [St. Louis Republic.

The Lizard’s Breakfast.

A young man in the Gilsey House case yesterday afternoon looked nervously at Professor Herrmann, the diabolical “Whizzard.” The Professor was in unusually good spirits, but that wasn’t the reason why the young man was nervous. Not at ail. The young man was just getting over an attack of the night before, and he was in a condition to be easily startled. When the magician sat down he called out: “Waiter, a fly.” “All right, sir,” said the waiter, as if requests for the common house flv were the most natural thing in the "world. Then it was that the young man's eyes bulged nervously. After considerable exercise of both leg and fist agility the waiter caught a fly and brought it very caiefully to Professor Herrmann. The optics of the nervous young man literally glared with expectation. Placingthe fly on the table the Professor, in a most tender manner, lifted a delicate little green lizard from the lapel of his coat, corraled it in front of the fly with a tiny stake of gold, and then you should have seen that lizurd jump. The fly disappeared as quickly as a bit of Herrmann palm istry and the eyes of the lizard blinked. The young man’s face had in the interim assumed an expression almost human, and Professor Herrmann ordered hit own breakfast.—[New York Recorder. '

NOVEL CLOCK

Not Exactly Perpetual Motion, Yet !«. Requires No Winding. The little town of Amedee, in Lassen county, possesses, what it sometimes claims to be the hottest mineral springs in the world. The springs, and there are several of them, are close together, but are divided into groups by the railroad track. In grading the track-bed the workmen closed a vent, or opened one, and a spring that had theretofore been a .wellbehaved spring suddenly became aggressive, forming a geyser that rises to the height of five or six feet every thirtyeight seconds with the regularity of clockwork. This is invariable and a local inventor proposes that it shall in reality become a clock. This novel timepiece will be a large one erected on the piazza near the depot. Its outward appearance will be that of the ordinary town clock. Imbedded in the basin of the geyser will be a small lead box, from which will project a small steel lever, the outer end of which is slightly widened to offer resistance to the water ns it spurts upward. This lever is really the terminus of one of two wires that communicate with the clock. This lever is on a knuckle joint hidden in the box, that will allow it to play upwind but not downward below the level. Behind the face <-f the clock is merely a ratchet wheel coi'ioectirg with the minute. hand a briss dog, wnich is soldered to the armature of a coil magnet, identical with that of the ordinary telegraph instrument, and a jar of gravity battery. The lever in the little lead box bears exactly the same relation to the magnet in the clock as the key of the telegraph instrument does to the s Hinder. When the water bursts from the geyser it carries the little lever up far enough to come in contact with the other terminus and the connection is made. The mag net draws the armature and dog to it, whicii moves the ratchet wheel one notch, or, in time, moves the minute hand forward thirty-eight seconds. When the geyser subsides the current is broken and an opposing coil spring pulls back the dog in readiness for the next move. The hour hand is moved every quarter hour only. The bands are I alanced on the inside and the work is so well done that less than a weightof one ounce is required to move the clock.—[San Francisco Examine!.

Marriage in Burman.

Destitution is almost unknown, and the wants of life in the temperate climate of Burmah are more easily satisfied than in the colder countries of northern Europe. A young Burmese couple can start life with a da and a cooking-pot. The universal bamboo supplies materials for building the house, lighting the fire, carrying the water from the well, and may even help to compose the dinner itself. The wife is usually prepared to take a share in supporting the household, and thus she has gradually acquired a position of independence not always enjoyed by married women elsewhere. It has been decided that, under the ancient Buddhist custom prevailing in Burmah, a husband cannot alienate property jointly acquired after marriage without the consent of his wife. Few marriages take plaee where either party is under fifteen, and the usual age is between fifteen and twenty-five. Polygamy now practically no longer exists, although in ancient times the Burmese were polygamists as well as slaveholders. Most Burmese have only one wife, and few more than two. The first, or head wife, is usually the choice of the husband in his youth, and when she ceases to have children she often assists in the choice of a young wife, who is bound to obey her. The ease with which divorce is obtained is said to be one of the causes why polygamy is so rare. The terms of divorce are based on ancient rules, one of which is that the party wishing the separation can take his or her property and no more; the other party takes all the rest, including the children. The safeguard against caprice in husbands is not merely public opinion, which condemns too frequent divorces, but the self-respect of women, which prevents them from marrying a man who has divorced his wives too freely. The privilege of perfect freedom in this respect is said to be rarely abused. Divorce is very rare, a fact attributable equally, perhaps, to the high position occupied by women in Burmese society, the care with which marriage contracts are entered into and the extreme evenness of temper which characterizes both sexes. —[London Times.

RELIABLE RECIPES.

Graham Pudding.—Mix together two cupfuls of graham flour, a cupful of mi;k, one of chopped raisins, a cupful of molasses and one egg beaten light, a teaspoonful of salt, and one of soda, dissolved in a little water. Pour into the pudding pan, allowing plenty of room to rise. Cover tightly and boil three hours, adding boiling water as the water around the pudding dish wastes. Serve with any kind of sweet sauce. Peach Cake.—Mix together one pint of flour, two teaspoonfuls of baking powder, half a teaspoonful of salt and one gill of sugar. Rub through a sieve and add a gill and a half of milk, one wellbeaten egg and three tablespoonfuls of melted butter. Spread this in a wellbuttered shallow cake pan. Cover the top of the dough with peaches, pared and cut in halves. Sprinkle three tablespoonfuls of sugar over this and bake in a moderately hot oven for half an hour. Slide the cake upon a warm platter and servo hot with sugar and cream. Broiled White Fisn, Maitrb d’Hotel. —Pare off the tins, wash well, wipe dry and slit a large whitefish down the back; remove the spine, season with salt and pepper, baste with oil, broil to a nice color and well; slide on a dish, spread a soft maitre d’hotel sauce over the fish, garnish with quartered lemon and serve. For the sauce: Knead the desired quantity of mellow table butter with finely chopped and pressed parsley and lemon juice. Use it unmelted with different preparations.

They Beat the Railroad.

Two Colorado bicyclists arrived at Caldwell, Kan., the other day, having wheeled from Trinidad, '<oo miles distant, in six days. They have fitted their bicycle wheels with flanges, and furnished them with outriggers, so that they can ride on the tracks of the railways, and thus they do 30 miles an hour with entire ease. Salad of String Beans. String a pint of young tender beans, boil in salt water until done; rub a salad bowl with a slice of onion, put the beans in, sprinkle with minced herbs, pour over a plain salad dressing, and serve very cold.

NOVEL ELK HUNTING.

Mounted Mexicans Cateh Them with Lariats. In the latter part of July and during August the Mexican, or “Californian,” as he is locally styled, has his greatest field sport—hunting the elk. At this season elk are the fattest. They come down from the mountains, f.->othills and crags attracted by the luxuriant pasturage of the valley lands coursed by streams or fronting upon the sea. In these favored localities the heavy dues add luxuriance to the wild grasses, oats and other grains. At this season, because of their extra bulk, elk cannot run so fast Ordinarily they give the fleetest horse a close race. The Mexican elk hunter is “armed” only with a lariat and a lima, a crescent-shaped-knife which is tied at the end of a slender pole about ten feet in length. The luna somewhat resembles the moon ; hence its name. The luna is used tohamstring the elk after the lariat hasbeen thrown over his horns. A party of ten or fifteen Mexicans, thus equipped and mounted on the fleetest horses, will charge a band of 100 or more, each man selecting his victim. On being lassoed the elk will plunge violently, almost pulling thehorse ferward, for the lariat it fastened to the pommel of the saddle. But the trained horse throws his weight backward and stands stiff, with nerves strained to hold the powerful elk in check. The Mexican sits calmly on the horse, talking sarcastically to the ■struggling elk, bestowing praise upon himself and smoking his cigarette. After the animal exhausts himself the Mexican throws the luna and hamstringsthe elk. He then cuts its throat with the luna, or hunting knife, if he cares to take the trouble to dismount. Immediately he is off after another, for the stampeded band will soon escape, tothe foothills unless they have been run into a glen or on an isthmus, when the slaughter is terrible and cruel. It usually requires two men to dispatch nn elk unless the hunters are very expert —oneto throw the lariat, the < ther the luna. To cut the throat of a wounded elk as he turns his large, full eyes, expressive of fright, sorrow and reproach, upon his merciless captor requins a hardened heart and robs the sport of -its pleasures seemingly. Birt the Mexican regards the coup de grace as the acme of the chase. An elk will yield seventy-five to twentyfive pounds of tallow. It is largely used by the rancheros for cooking purposes, because of its superior whiteness, hardness and delicate taste. It commands agood price in the market, as does thehide.—[San Francisco Chronicle.

Facts About Insects.

Ants are provided with a poison bag, which discharges a fluid having a ctrong sulphurous smell, sufficient to drive awaym >st insect enemies. It is estimated that the chinch bug, Hessian fly, army worm ard cotton worm have cost the people of the United States more than the Civil War. The amount of silk produced by each s nd er is so small that Reaumur computes th it 663,5-2 would be required to produce a pound of thread. Termites have five different classes of society: Workers, sentinels, soldiers, males, females. Of the latter twoclasses there is only one each in every nest. Attempts have been made to produce spider silk, but have failed, the ferocious nature of these insects not permitting them to live together in communities. The clothier bee covers her nest of tgga with a cloth made from the woody fiber of plants, and thus preserves her young from the kudden cbanges’of temperature. The hornet’s nest is sometimes two feet in diameter. The outside layers have a small interval between each, so that if rain should penetrate it is soon arrested. In times of scarcity the South African natives sometimes rob the nests of the termites, and as much as five bushels of grain have been taken from a singlenest. M. De L’lsle discovered an amimalculte that could run six inches in a second, and calculated that it most move its legs no less than 1,200 times in that brief period.

The African Lungfish.

The African lungfish grows very rap.dly, has great vitality, and, although fasting long, is exceedingly voracious, devouring snails, earthworms, as well as small fish, besides killing and eating each other, so that it is difficult to keep many together. They are most active at night, keeping mostly in the shallow water, when they move deliberately about in the bottom, alternately using the peculiar limbs of either side, though their movements are not regular. Gray has compared these movements with those of a Triton, and several other observers have noticed them. The powerful tail forms a most efficient organ for swimming rapidly through the water. It is well known that Protopterus come to the surface to breathe at short intervals, and thus it is evident that the longs perform an important, if not the ehief part in respiration during the active life of the anima). The air passes out again through the opercular aperture, and the movements of the operculum itself indicate the fact that the bronchial as well as pulmonary respiration takes place.— [New York Independent.

A Light of 40,000,000 Candle Power.

The Lighthouse Board has received from France a pamphlet describing a new lighthouse to be erected off the coast of Brittany. The lighthouse will be built on Penmarch Point, and will be known as the Eckmukl Lighthouse. It will contain an electric light of 40,000,000 candle power, casting a beam which can be seen a distance in clear weather of sixty-three miles, and in foggy weather a distance of twenty-one miles. The highest order of light now in oper- • tition in the United States lighthouse service can only be seen twenty-one miles in clear weather. The light on the E«kmukl Lighthouse is of the “lightning flash” order. At the usual height sf ordinary lighthouse towers its light cannot be actually cast more than twentyfive miles before it strikes the horizon, but beyond that point it is reflected io the sky for thirty-eight miles.

A Large Day’s Sawing.

At the sawmill of M. T. Jonen & Co., •f Lake Charles, La., recently. 191,323 net of lumber were cut in eleven hours.* This is said to be the largest amount of lumber ever turned out of a single circular sawmill in that number of hours.