Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 47, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 December 1893 — Page 4

THE WINDS OF MEMORY. Upon the western shore to night I’m sitting, The shore that slopes to touch a boundless sea, And watch the white ships inward, outward fleeting, And wonder when my ship will come for me; And where it lies, and whither it is going, I only hear the winds of memory blow ing. Across the cliffs of yesterday they’re coming, They fan my forehead with the forest air. Bemembered melodies the hills are humming; A scent of pine trees hovers every where. I hear again the bmkside brooklet flowing. While all the winds of memory are blow ing. Blow on, sweet winds, your singing or your eigbing Brings back to-night a half-forgotten tune: Beneath the apple blooms once rnqre I’m lying. I feel thebreath of girlhood’s happy Juno; Life’s early dawn, again I see it glowing, While all the winds of memory are blowing. A summer song, now taint, now fuller growing A far-off lullaby from mother lips. Love, living love, receiving and bestowing; I listen, listen! On, ye white-winged ships, I do not heed your coming or your going, While all the winds of memory are blowing, Upon the western shore to night I’m straying. The shore that slopes to touch a boundless sen, And watch the billows upward, downward swaying. But do not care how near the tide may bo; Or, if the waters touch my feet, not knowing, While I can hear the winds of momory blowing. —[Exchange.

An Old Roman of Mariposa.

BY FLORENCE FINCH-KELLY.

Mariposa is a wreck of the gold fever. The merest skeleton of its former self, its lies there in the gulch between the chaparral-covered foothills and remembers the time when it was lusty and vigorous, in the full flesh of feverish youth, smd had a murder every morning for breakfast. All around it the gashed and seamed and scarred and furrowed earth bears testimony to the labors r qf those stirring times when men dug a fortune from the ground in a day, and spent it in the town at night. The people live in the past. The first man with whom you talk will make yon hear the sound of barroom fights and pistol shots down the street, and the rolling chorus of “Fortv-cine,” and make vivid for your eyes the piles of gold dust upon the gaming tables, the hundreds of goldweighted miners that came trooping into town on Saturday night, and the placer mines down the bed of the creek, as populous then as a city street, though utterly deserted now. And every man and woman above middle age with whom you talk will do the same for you with new characters and incidents, until your stay in the town becomes a rolling panorama of the gold days and you feel aa if you were yourself living through their excitements and had gotten their deliriums in your veins. At least that was what was happening to me as I sat on a benoh in front of a little house whose narrow porch was flush with the sidewalk of the main street. My hostess, herself an old timer, the first woman in the town, began the entertainment as we sat there in the early afternoon, shelling peas for dinner and breathing deep draughts of the honey-scented air that blew down the hills from thousands of' pink-flowered manzanita bushes. She told how she and her sister had alighted from the stage in Mariposa that evening so many years uo, when they were both “just slips of girls,” the very first women in that region for miles and miles around; and how the men, hundreds of them, who had not seen the form of a woman for months, save Indian squaws, came at the news that two women were in town and bagged her father to be allowed just to look at them; and how the two of them, hand in hand, came shyly out and the men crowded around with looks of respectful adoration and then passed on to let others look, though one stopped long enough to fall on his knees and kiss the hem of her dress; and how the whole great crowd of men suddenly started up, as if by one impulse, the hymn, “Nearer, My God, to Thee.” Then along came a newspaper man—a bit of the present mingled with the past. He was there reporting a murder trial for his San Francisco paper. “Better come to this afternoon’s session of the trial,” he said. “The prisoner isn’t much, but his father is the most interesting old chap I’ve run across since I’ve been on the Coast. I’ll tell . you about him as we walk over. “It’s a brutal, ghastly case,” the newspaper man said, “and to my mind the only mystery about is the prisoner’s father. He is a fine-looking old man, with the manner and head of an old Boman. He has the reputation of being the straightest and squarest man in the county, and how he ever came to be the

father of such a good-for-nothing scum of the earth as the prisoner I can explain only in the supposition that he isn’t. "The old man is one of the pioneers in Mariposa and they tell me tuat he was one of the nerviest men that ever drew a gun in this town. He killed his man in those days, jurt as lots of other good men did, but it was in self-defence and everybody was glad that the town was rid of the man he dropped and so nothing was said about it. There was a Coroner’s jury, which gave a verdict of suicide, and explained their finding on the ground that it was suicidal for any man to draw on Dan Hopkins and then give Dan the chance to shoot first. The old man was universally known to be so honest and square in all his dealings and so upright and honorable in every way that the son's depravity seemed all the blacker by contrast. He has stood by the young fellow from the first of his wickedness, so everybody says, and has always shown toward him not only the greatest affection. He has never intimated even to his best friend that the young man was anything but the best and most dutiful son that bad overlived. He has kepc him supplied with money, so that the fellow’s only reason for the petty thievery he had was pure love for stealing. He has paid bis fines when he has been arrested and shielded him from public contempt and done everything possible to make it easy for him to be honest and respectable. But the boy has steadjjy gone on, they say, from bad to worse? and now be has capped it all with this crime, which, in willful and unprovoked brutality, was worthy of a criminal

hardened by twice his years and experience. He and another young blade about as bad as he is, though this one seems to have been the one who planned it and led in the execution, went to the house of an old man, who lived alone a little farther up in the foothills toward the Yosemite valley, and asked to be allowed to stay all night. The old man took them in, got supper for them, made them as comfortable as he could, and in the night they got up and murdered him, stole all his money—he had just sold some horses and cattle to the prisoner’s father—and were preparing to skip the country and go to Australia when they were arrested. “The thing’s not been absolutely proven on young Hopkins yet, but the circumstancial evidence is so plain that even if there is nothing else I don’t see how he’s going to escape the rope. I’ve just heard » rumor, though, that there’s to be some new evidence this afternoon which will settle the matter without a doubt.”

The room rapidly filled up, and as we waited for court to open the newspaper man pointed out one and another hale old man whose clear eyes and fresh skin belied his years, and told tales of his daring forty years before, of the wealth he had dug from the earth, and of the reckless ways In whioh he had lost it. And at last came the prisoner and his father. The old man's figure was tall, erect, broad-chested and muscular, and his bearing proud and reserved. “Fm always half expecting to see that old man get up,” the newspaper man whispered to me, “fold bis arms across that great chest of his and say ‘Rom inus sum,’ and then proudly lead his son away.” He must have been sixty-five years old or more, though he looked twenty years younger. His daik hair and beard wero only sifted with gray, and he held himself so erectly and with such dignity, and all the lines of his countenance expressed such force and nobleness of character that the suggestiou of his appearance was of the strength of middle age. But the boy was a painful contrast. His eye was shifty, his expression weak and sensual, and the hard lines of his face and the indifference of his manner told the story of a man old in criminal thoughts if not in years and deeds. For he looked no more than twenty-five, and might have been even younger. The father sat near him, and although they seldom spoke together he frequently by some small act or apparently unconscious movement showed a tenderness and affection for ,the wayward son that seemed all the greater by contrast with his own proud reserve and the boy’s hardened indifference.

The new testimony was brought in. The Sheriff had set a go-between at work with the two prisoners, and with his aid had secured copies of all the notes they at once began writing to each other. In these letters, which were all produced in court, they had freely discussed their crime ana argued about the points wherein they had made mistakes. Young Hopkins had boasted to the other that they need not fear conviction because his father would certainly get them clear, and they had planned what they would do after the trial was over, forecasting with joyful anticipations a course of crime and debauchery. W hen the Sheriff began to give this testimony the old man’s hand was resting affectionately on his son’s shoulder. As it went on laying bare the utter depravity of his boy’s soul, the muscles of his face quivered a little, and presently, with just the suggestion of a flinching shudder in face and figure he took his band away and shrank back a little from the young man. I had wondered as I watched him if it was a revelation to him of a depth.of depravity in his son’s heart of which he had not guessed before.

Then the prosecution asked for a few minutes’ recess, announcing that it had a new witness to bring forward. And after much hurrging to and fro and whispering and consulting among lawyers and conrt and prison officials young Hopkins’ accomplice appeared on the witness stand and turned State's evidence. He had learned of the intercepted letters, and, frightened by their probable result for himself, told the whole story of the crime from the time Hopkins had first broached it to him until they were arrested in San Francisco. And during the entire narration of the cold-blooded, brutal and cowardly deed oli Dan Hopkins sat with his eyes on the witness as steady and unflinohing in color and nerve and musole as if he had been listening to a leoture or a sermon.

At last it was all over, the jury listened to the Judge’s charge and filed out. "It’s hanging, sure,’’ said the newspaper man. "After that evidenoe and that charge there’s only one verdict they can bring in. It’s a good thing as far aB the boy’s concerned, but I do feel sorry for his governor.” Every one felt so sure that the jury would soon return that none left their places, and a buzz of conversation soon filled the room. Old Dan Hopkins sat with his arms folded, his head erect, and his eyes, steady and clear, upon the empty witness ohair. There were many sympathizing glances sent toward him, though no one approached or spoke to him, for it was evident from his compressed lips and frowning brow that he preferred to be left alone. He had moved a little away from his son, and sat scarcely ten feet distant on my left. When the jury returned, in less than half an an hour, he bent upon them the same abstracted gaze and unmoved countenance. I think he had determined, whatever their verdict, upon his own course of actionlong before. The foreman stood up, glanced sadly toward the man who had been his friend and neighbor for many years. There were tears in his eyes and his voice broke and trembled as he gave their verdict, “Guilty of murder in the first degree.” Not a sound broke the deathlike stillness of the room as he sat down, and I noticed that every face within my view was turned away from the prisoner's box and the old man who sat near it. The tense strain of the moment was broken by the prisoner’s counsel, who arose and began a motion for a new trial.

But the click of a revolver broke through his first sentence as Dan Hopking jumped to his feet with a sudden, swift movement of his right arm. A dozen men leaped forward with outstretched arms and cried, "Stop! Stop!” But even before they could reach him the report rang through the room, and just as they seized the father’s arms the son dropped to the floor, dead. He waved back the men who were pressing around him. " Stop 1” he cried. " Stand back a minute 1” And they fell back instinctively. He walked calmly to the Judge’s desk and laid down bis smoking pistol. Then he folded his arms and faced about, with head thrown back, flashing eyes mad colorless face. He looked at the Sheriff, who, with the sense of official duty atrosg upon him, had stepped out from

the huddled crowd and was coming toward him. “Wait one minute,” he cried, “and then arrest me! I have lived a long and honorable life in this county, and I know that I have the respect and the confidence of you all. And I am convinced, too, bitter as the knowledge is to me, that that poor boy there deserved death. I did not believe until this afternoon that he was guilty. But now I am convinced that he was bad from the bottom of his heart and that there was no hope for him. He deserved death, but could I hefcr that my own flesh and blood should be hanged f No! Better a thousand times that he should die by my own hand. On me let the law’s justice fall, for I deserve death, not so much for taking the life of that monster of wickedness that lies there as for having given him life in the first place. Mine was the first sin, and it is just that I, rather than he, should bear the disgrace. Now, arrest me.” He held out his hand to the Sheriff, the shackles clicked upon his wrists and he was led off between the rows of staring men, his head as erect and his manner as proudly dignified as ever.— [San Francisco Examiner.

A FRONTIER GRAVEYARD.

The Cemetery at Fetterman, Where Many a Worthy Lies Burled. Old Fort Fetterman, or what is left of the post, stands upon a table land which overlooks a beautiful basin and the North Platte river. The buildings of the Fort are crumbling. Sage-brush has sprung up in the walks and the caotus in the parade ground is now green and rank. Fetterman is an abandoned post. The soldiers moved away from there years ago. Only one man lives at the place now. He is a stout fellow, with a face as red as one of the spring sunsets of the country, and as unkempt as the hair of a town lout. He has few visitors, The days come and the days go without bringing to this man a single thing to break the monotony of his life. Years ago the soldiers returned to the post, says the Chicago Herald, and removed from the cemetery the dead bodies of their .comrades. Some of the brave fellows were killed in fights with Indians. Others had taken their own lives, while still others had died from natural causes. The bodies that remained in the quiet graveyard were those of civilians. They died, as many of the soldiers had done, but there was nobody to take them away, and so they were left to lie in the shadow of the ruins of the post and where the coyotes run at night. The headstones at these graves are grimly humorous. They are of wood, with the names of the oocupants of the tombs carved upon their surface. The letters are not regular. They do not belong to the same font. Here is an italic H and there a roman G, and so close are they together that the name is as irregular as was the life of the man whose memory they were made to perpetuate. Over in one corner of the graveyard is a sunken grave where a curlew was thrusting its slender bill. The headboard read: “Pete Stevenson, Killed by Limber Jim.” To the right, and where the cactus grows thickest, is another board, with this inscription: “Bill Apile, Suioided by a Six-Shooter.” “Lim>er Jim,” whoever he may have been, may not have started this frontier graveyard, but he had much to do with the prosperity of the civilian corner of the inclosure. For here and there was a headstone with the name of one of his victims, and always ending in the same grim way: “Killed by Limber Jim.” There were no days or dates carved upon the boards. That would have taken too much time. Anu who would care, anvhow, whether Bill Bates died on Thursday, March 21, 1887, or on Friday, March 22, 1887?

One old story started from this graveyard. Bill Barlow, who was a great man about Fetterman when the post amounted to something, was striking across the country late one night, whet,, exhausted from his long ride, he drew rein on his bronco and alighted. The night was so dark that Barlow, familiar as ke was with every basin and draw of tfcp country, drew up in tbe middle of the graveyard and picketed his horse. Morning was breaking when Barlow awoke. He looked about him and in the dim light saw the gravestones scattered here and there. Started at what he beheld, but suddenly realizing that he was. perhaps, the most fortunate of all men he cried out: “The resurrection, begosh, and I’m the first on deck.” The story was told throughout Wyoming, and eventually found i»s way to the east. Barlow is still alive. He is a fat man with a good nature; apd when the nights are long he plays the village piano and sings for the big-hatted men who Bit about the store.

WOMAN.

The Greatest Have Thought It Worthy to Honor Her. I think there is nothing made in creation that can be compared with woman —not even man. Homage and Jevotion to a woman is the first duty us man, after homage and devotion jo the Supreme Being, whom all the different races unite in describing as God. { have fancied that woman and woman's love represented the ruling spirit, as m#jti and man’s brain represent the moving in the world. I have drawn pictu/es of an age in which real chivalry of thought, word and deed might be the onl j: law necessary to control men’s actions. Not the scenic and theatrical chivatiy of the middle ages, ready at any moment to break out into epidemic crime, put a true reverence and understanding of woman’s supreme right to honor and consideration; an age where it should no longer be said that love is but an episode in the brutal life of man, while to woman it is life itself. There is no pleasure like the pleasure of trying to understand what a woman wants; there is no sorrow like the sorrow of failing to do that; and there is no glory like the glory of success. It is is a divine task for any man, and the greatest have thought it worthy of them.—[E. Marion Crawford.

The Crazy Peer Voted.

There is only one well authenticated case of a lunatic having voted in a division either in the House of Lords or the House of Commons. In 1841, on the occasion when Lord Melbourne’s government was defeated by one vote on Sir Robert Peel’s notice-of want of confidence, the Whigs brought down Lord X , who was a member for a Scotch county, although he was in a state of absolute driveling idiocy, and his vote was duly recorded oh the government side. Mr. Charles Greville states that “this p° or wretch was brought in a chair. They got him into the house and then wheeled him past the tellers. Charles Howard, Melbourne’s private secretary, told me he thought it a monstrous and indecent proceeding.”— [London Tit-Bits..

THE JOKERS' BUDGET.

JESTS AND YARNS BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. He Had Noticed It-Cause for Resentment —Worse—A Singular Request, Etc., Etc. HI HAD NOTICED IT. Barber (giving him a swipe down the other cheek) —Yes, sir; I’ve got some influence in this ward, if I do say it myself. Man in Chair—You do seem to have something of a pull.—[Chicago Tribune. CAUSE FOK RESENTMENT. “There’s an awful quarrel on between Harry de Ruyter and Miriam. Have you heard about it?” “No; what’s it all about?” “Why, Harry told her she was his study for the heroine of his last story, and she read it and found that he described her as ‘not strictly beautiful.’ ” WORSE. Barrie—Famblyman is a terrible bore. Strang—Does he persist in telling the clever things his children have saidl Barrie—Worse. He tells of the clever things he has said himself.

A SINGULAB REQUEST. Family Physician—l can assure you, my dear lady, that you have not the least trace of a liver complaint. Patient, who longs to go to Carlsbad —But, my dear doctor, can’t you provide me with it if I want it very badly?— [Fliegende Blaetter. MIGHT CALL HIM ONE BY TELEPHONE. Haverly—Would you call a man a liar who was in the habit of telling littlo harmless fibs? Austin—lt would depend upon how much he weighed.—[Vogue. JUST LONG ENOUGH TO THINK IT OVER. Patient Old Lady (to elevator boy reading novel) —How often does the elevator go up, boy? Elevator Boy—lt goes up at the end of every chapter.—[Pittsburg Chronicle Telegraph. THE FAULT ON THE OTHER SIDE. Isabella.l don’t see why you should have any difficulty in conversing with Mr. Francement. You said you spoke French? Elayne—l do. but no one can understand me.—[Chicago Record.

IF THIS WERE ONLY TRUE. So many girls will have to go without uew hats this winter on account of the World’s Fair that it will be quite the thing to go bareheaded to the theatre.— [Achtson Globe. WOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER. He—What is the reason you won’t let me kiss you when I ask you? Is it because you think I have kissed so many other girls? She—No, I acquit you of that. He—lndeed! Why? Bhe—Because, if you had you wouldn’t haye asked.—[New York Herald. A ROMANTIC BUNDLE. “Do you love me?” said the paper bag to the sugar. “I’m just wrapped up in you,” replied* the sugar. “You sweet thing 1" murmured the paper bag.—[Truth. A PROTESTED TRANSGRESBION. Little Mary—O, you’ve got papa’s razor. He’ll just take your head off when he finds it out. Little Johnnie (looking at the blade with a satisfied air after drawing it through another pine stick) —Not with this.—[Detroit Tribune.

WANTED SOLICITUDE. “ Now, dear,” said the thoughtful wife, “you will be careful not to get your feet wet, won’t you?” “Humph!” replied the dyspeptic husband. “That’s the way with you women. That shows just about how much consideration you have for a man. I suppose you’d be satisfied to see me break my neck trying to walk down to my office on my hands, wouldn’t you?” —Washington Star. JOHN SETTLED AND DONE FOR. “So your son John is courting a woman at last? I’m afraid, however, that he’ll be too bashful to propose to her.” "He won’t need to propose; she’s a widow.”—[New York Press. A MEAN MAN. ‘‘My dear,” said Mr. Bloobumper to his wife, “I wish you would have some of these biscuits of yours when Mr. Briscoe is here for dinner.” ‘‘l thought you didn’t like Mr. Briscoe, love,’’ replied Mrs. Bloobumper, bw eetly. "I don’t.”—[Judge. a woman’s joke. "Yes, mutton’s dear to-day,” said he, "But here’s some venison that’s nice.” "Oh, no; no venison for me,” She said, “that’s dear at any price.” —[New York Press. LIKE A PAPER WRAPPER. The Young Housewife—Have you any canvas-baok duck? Butcher—Yes, ma’am. The Young Housewife—Well, I wish you’d send me one. And I wish you’d have it taken out of its oanvas, if you please!—[Chicago Record.

A WORTHY DOCTOR. "Dr. Jacques is certainly a first rate physician. All his operations succeed and he has never yet met with a failure." “Then his patients must indeed be lucky.” “Yes; for when he gets them their sufferings are sure to cease very soon.” [Journal Amusant. HE WAS NO TRANSIENT. He was introduced to her in the parlors of the hotel and kept her listening to his chatter for two mortal hours. "I am quite at home in this hotel,” he finally remarked. , "Oh, yes, ’’ she answered with a weary smile! “you seem to be a permanent boreder.”—[Detroit Free Press. HE HAD NOTICED IT. The hands of the clock were pointing o 12. t "Have you noticed the clock?” she asked, yawning. “Yes,” he said; “it’s the same one you’ve always bad, ain’t it?” “Yes.” "I noticed it the first night I came to call on you. It’s a very nice one.”— [New York Sun. history vs. common sense. Teacher—What kind of hair did the ancient Britons have? Tommy— Long blond hair. Tsacher—No; the ancient Britons »«*t have had gray hair.—[Texas Sifttags.

DIDN'T wart it. Warble —I kissed a girl last night ant I she treated it just like an editor treats my poems. Fiddlebaok—Declined it? Warble—No. Returned it with thanks. —New York Herald. CROP ITEMS. ‘ ‘Do you think the corn crop has been affected by the weather?” ‘'Guess not; my chiropodist tells me he was never so busy as now.”—[Truth. poor thing! Oh, think of the misery winter will bring, When of warmth there’s such terrible lack; Oh, pity the woman, sad, sorrowing thing, Who hasn’t a sealskin eacque. —[Washington Star, NEW TO HER. “Oh, mamma, look here," said a little visitor in the oountry who had got her eyes on a potato bug for the first time. ‘What is it, dear ?” “A funny kind of fly with a tennis blazer."—[V ogue. REAL INDEPENDENCE. One day last summer a gentleman at Plainfield, N. J., had notice served on him by his cook. “Why do you leave?" he asked. “It’s too hot here for a Christian in summer.” "It’s no hotter for you than it is for me," observed her employer. “Yet I have to stay.” “That’s the difference between you and me,” replied the cook. “I haven’t.”— [Brooklyn Life. THE THYMHLY RHYME. The turkey, bird of promise, Is now in clover living, ’Tis sage to say, he’ll have his weigh Until his neck’s Thanksgiving. —[Detroit Free Press. THE VERY TIME. When on the half-shell oysters come That is the time beyond a doubt, When he who treats a girl doth find It necessary to shell out. —[New York Herald. ' THEY don’t GO WELL TOGETHER. The weather grows colder now day after , day, And the heart of the maiden is down; She can’t wear a coat trimmed with fur and display 2JThe spinaker sleeves of her gown. —[New York Press. A FAMILIAR PECULIARITY. “Literature certainly runs in the Greemsmith family. The two daughters write poetry that nobody will print; the sons write plays that nobody will act, and the mother writes novels that nobody will read.” “And what does the father write?" “Oh, he writes ohecks that nobody will cash.—[Press and Printer. AND TROUBLE EVENTUALLY FOLLOWED. Neighbor’s Boy—Your mamma must be mighty strong. The Other Boy—How do you know whether she is or not? Neighbor’s Boy—l heard mv mamma say she b’lieved she was a shoplifter.— [Chicago Tribune. REALISM. “I want a realistic work,” she said, With such a tender look. The wealthy banker, with a bow, Gave her his pocketbook. —[Detroit Free Press.

TRY IT YOURSELF.

Anybody Can Ascertain Another’s Age by This Method. There was once a wise king who was awfully curious. He was possessed of a desire to know everything, and was continually asking questions. Indeed, his thirst for knowledge carried him so far that he wanted to know the age of every person he met. But, being a king, he was exceedingly polite, and would resort to strategy to gain his ends. One day there came to the court a grayhaired professor, who amused the king greatly. He told the monarch a number of things that he never know before, and the king was delighted, But finally it came to the point when the ruler wanted to know the age of the professor, so he thought of a mathematical problem. “Ahoml” said the king. “I have an interesting sum for you; it is a trial in mental arithmetic. Think of the number of the month of your birth.” Now, the professor was 00 years old, and had been born two days before Christmas; so he thought of 12, December being the twelfth month. “Yes,” said the professor. “Multiply it by 2,” continued the king. “Yes.” “Add 5.” “Yes,” answered the professor, doing so. “Now multiply that by 50.” “Yes.” “Add your age.” “Subtract 363.” “Yes.” “Add 115,” “Yes.” “And now,” said the king, “might I ask what the result is?”“Twelve hundred and sixty,” replied the professor, wonderingly “Thank you,” was the king’s response. So you was born in December sixty years ago, eh?” J “Why, how in the world do you know?” cried the professor. “Why,” retorted the king, from your answer—l26o. The month of your birth was the twelfth, and the last two figures give your age.” **“» ka, hal” laughed the professor. Capital idea. I’ll try it on the next person. It’s a polite way of finding out people's ages.—[Los Angeles World

Two North Poles.

It can be properly said that there are two north poles.' The geographical north pole (the place where all degrees of longitude intersect and where there is no latitude) and the north magnetic pole, the latter being the needle’s attraction. The first mentioned or geographical pole is fixed and constant, but the magnetic is constantly changing position, and at the rate it is now traveling will make a complete circuit of the geographical pole about once in every 640 years. Observations on this point were first made from the Greenwich observatory in 1658, at which date the magnetic pole was on that meridian. During the last 235 years it has crossed the Atlantic ocean and is now well on its journey across the northern part of the American continent. At the present time it is on or near the southwestern shore of Boothia peninsula, at about seventy-six decrees north latitude. The Naval Asylum of the Un ted States <r,. established in 1833 near.Philade phis.

Shooting a Lion,

Then from behind the carnet then came a huge gray thing. It was the lion, but too far for a certain shot. As he crouohed with extended paws and elevated back, his head near the ground, and glaring at me in defianoe. I slowly raised my rifle for a careful shot, for he seemed upon the point of charging. But as I did so he turned and lumbered off, and the shot I despatched to hasten his movements only struck the aand. Then began the chase. My horse was out of sight behind, but I was soon in the saddle and away. Meantime the two mounted natives had taken up the chase, and after running the lion for two miles, he went to bay in a thicket of mimosa trees. Branishing their spears, and keeping at a respectful distance on their active little horses, the men hurled at him what were no doubt the most insulting and scornful epithets. Fara came up as I was dismounting, just in time to hold my horse. As I approached the clump of trees, rifle in hand, it was a moment or two before I could distinguish the lion; when I did so he was crouching full length behind a many-stemmed mimosa, facing me, and evidently in charging mood, as he was swaying his body and working his tail from side to side with great impetuosity. As I walked round outside the dump to get a flanking shot, he kept turning and facing me. Bo at last I sat down and fired twice at his head between the stems; and reloading like lightning, I rested the rifle on a bush, and fired once more. Upon receiving this shot, he left his bush and came straight at me as fast as possible, without giving me time reload the right barrel. When he was about five yards off, I gave him my last barrel in the chest, and jumped aside, and instantly everything was hidden in a cloud of dust. My last shot had broken his charge, and caused him to swerve round. When the dust settled, I saw him under the same bush as before, but badly hit; he was my lion now, and, running up to within easy range, I put two bullets into his shoulder, which finished him.—[Century.

Paraffine Floors.

M. Burd, of Lyons, has stopped absolutely the sweeping of floors in hospital wards. He has the floors covered with a coat of a solution of parafine in petroleum, which makos them impermeable to anything and them a brown tint. A single application lasts two years. Thus prepared the floors stand very well wiping every day with a damp cloth, moistened with some antiseptic solution. The same process can be applied with advantage to barracks, school rooms and other places. In private dwellings, where the floors are covered with carpet, there should be substituted for the ordinary sweeping the use of mechanical brushes, which, instead of making the dust fly. eollect it in special'boxes, from which it can be thrown into the fire, the great destroyer and perifier of all germs. This mode of sweeping is especially requisite in the lower stories of houses, since microbean germs are found in greatest numbers in the lower layers of the atmosphere. They are ten times more numerous in the center of Paris in the vicinity of the Seine, than on higher ground. In every house, considered separately, the air of the upper stories is incontestably purer and freer from microbes than that of the lower stories. Reyne Scientifique.

Alcohol and Sparrows.

The English sparrows have proved a nuisance in the cotton country, for as soon as the bolls open they pick out the cotton and carry it off, and some planters have lost, as they claim, hundreds of pounds in this way. There is one man, however, in De Witt County that has not lost much. When he found the sparrows were committing depredations he procured a quantity of wheat, soaked it in sweetened whiskey, and strewed it along the rows. The sparrows found it, and thought they had a picnic. So they had, but in fifteen or twenty minutes there was the tipsiest lot of English sparrows ever seen on the face of the earth. They rolled about the ground, falling on their sides and back and kicking their heels into the air like a parcel of drunkards, all the while uttering the most comical squeaks. They did no! have long to squeak, however, for the boys gathered them up and threw them into bags. The first day they gathered two bushels of drunken sparrows. Three or four days later the experiment was repeated with almost equal success, and from time to time since. They made excellent potpie, but the survivors have come to regard the plantation as hoodooed, as now very few come about it. [Galveston News.

The “ Timber Lesson ” for Tramps.

Ohio and Indiana, although fairly friendly to tramps, are noted for certain “horstile” features. The main one of these is the well-known “timber lesson.” —clubbing at the hands of the citizens of certain towns. I experienced this muscular instruction at one unfortunate time in my life, and I must say that it is one of the best remedies for vagabondage that exists. But it is very crude and often oruel. In company with two other tramps I was made to run a gauntlet extending from one end of the town of Oxford, Indiana, to the other. The boys and men who were “timbering” us threw rooks and clubbed us most diligently. I come out of the scrape with a rather sore back, and should have probably suffered more had I not been able to run with rather more than the usual speed. One of my fellow-sufferers, I heard, was in a hospital for some time. My other companion had his eye gouged terribly, and I fancy that he will never visit that town again. Apart from the “timber” customs, which, I understand, is now practised in other communities also, these two States are good begging distriots. There are plenty of tramps within their boundaries and when “the eagles are gathered together,” the carcass to be preyed upon is not far away.”—[Century.

Slope of Rivers.

Generally speaking, the slope of rivers flowing into the Mississippi from the east is on an average about 3 inches per mile. Those entering it from the west have an average descent of about 6 inches per mile. The average descent per mile of ‘the Missouri after it leaves the mountains is reckoned at about a foot; the Des Moines from its source to its conjunction with the Mississippi, 7.8 inches. The entire length of the Ohio shows a fall of even 5 inches. The Mississippi from the mouth of the Ohio to the gulf has a fall of but 21 inches.—[Chicago Herald. Pkknsylania furnished 90,000,000 of the 179,000.000 tons of coal mined in this country last vear. Illinois was second, with 18,000,000 tons.

ON A RUSSIAN RAILROAD.

Third-Class Carriages are More Than Uncomfortable. Mr. Stevens, in his journey through Russia, made up his mind to travel one stage in a third-class railway carriage. This plan would give him information that might be useful and would also save him a Tittle money, which he could turn over to Count Tolstoi for the starving peasants. He found the experiment extremely unsatisfactory. He says: “The third-class carriages were so densely packed that there was hardly room for me, but after much scrambling I secured a seat near the door. ‘* I shall never forget that journey. It. was an awful experience. I felt as if I were being frozen to death and roasted alive alternately. Outside the cars the temperature was 35 degrees below zero. Inside the mercury stood at 77, a difference of 112 degrees Fahrenheit. “Inside it was so hot that even the muzhiks, who are so fond of roasting themselves, gave signs of discomfort. The heat came from a large iron stove, which the attendant kept feeding with birch firewood. As for myself, I wasmelted; the perspiration poured out of every pour of my skin. “My unfortunate fellow-travelers gave’ vent to their feelings in groans or ejaculations. “Now and then the door was opened by a new arrival, and instantly the carriage would be filled with an intensely cold air. 4 Hi, you there!’ the muzhiks would callout; ‘shut the door! You are afreezing us to death.” “ A ourious phenomenon sometimes, occurred on such occasions. The cold gusts which forced themselves in when the door was opened immediately condensed and chryatallized the vapor, so. that we had a miniature shower of snow in the earriage. “A few of the passengers appeared really to enjoy this alternative freezing and roasting. They crowded about the stove. One, a tall, sturdy soldier, carrying a sword of tremendous size, crept so. close to the stove that the escaping gases made him fall down in an unconsciousstate, from which he was aroused withi difficulty. He was wearing his military overcoat. • “At the first stoppage I bought anew ticket and went into a second-class carriage.”—[London Chronicle.

Bank Note Microbes.

Two Havanese bacteriologists, DrsAcosta and Gronde-Rossi, conceived th& idea, surely an original one, of studying the microbes of bank notes. They have published the result of their researcheson the notes of the Spanish bank of Havana. They have proved, in the first place, that the weight of these notes increases in the course of their circulation, by reason of the addition of foreign matter. At the end of a certain time the bacteriological analysis demonstrated a considerable increase in the number of microbes; in two cases this number rose to more than 19,000, The physioians discovered specially the presence of a septic bacillus, which rapidly kills animals innoculated with it; this, to speak properly, is the specific microbe of the bank note, and Tullamon thinks that the name bacillus septicus aureus could be justly given to it. Messrs. Acosta and Grande-Rossi have, besides, recognized distinctly in the bank notes examined by them eight pathogenic species, among which are the bacillus of tuberoulosis, that of diphtheria, and the streptococcus of erysipelas. The two bacteriologists do not say what denominations of the notes they experimented with. It may be supposed, however, that they did not use notes of 1,000 or even 100 francs. If the notes were of that size, it would be difficult to verify their experiments in all laboratories, the means of which in general do not permit of suoh prodigality. What use can the Havanese make of their bank notes that they become such receptacles of microbes? Messrs. Acosta and Grande-Rossi declare that the children of Havana are accustomed to carry bank notes in their mouths. It is easy to believe that the adults carry them elsewhere. [Annales d’Hygiene Publique.

Treatment of Nervousness.

Almost everybody has a cure for nervousness, and each one, of course, is claimed to be the best. The remedy for nervous depression lies more in the general treatment than in the course of medicine. Simple regular habits; shunning all excess; using moderation in all things; cheerful amusements; plenty of open air and not necessarily violent exercise. Sponging with cold water and brisk rubbing afterwards is desirable. Plunges, showers or other shocks are most undesirable. Indigestion generally accompanies nervous depression, therefore such tonics as aid the appetite, and assimilation may be used; an excellent one is the citrate of quinine and iron, one dram, dissolved in a half pint of water, and a dessert spoonful taken previous to each meal. For special forms of nervousness many remedies are used such as the stronger preparations of iron, the bromide of potassium, valerian with ammonia, or the application of electricity. These, when skillfully administered, are doubtless useful, but recourse to suoh powerful means should never be had except under medical advice. Change, exercise, fresh air, diet or tonics will not cure nervousness derived from “a mind deceased,” or one who gives way to depression. The nervousness must, as far as possible, be disregarded and defied, and the mind prevented from constantly brooding on self.—[Brooklyn Eagle.

Suicides In European Armies,

In view of the epidemic of suicides which seem to have set in of late it is interesting to see how different countries stand in this respect. The following figures give the number of suicides in the the various armies of Europe per 100,000 men: Austria, 181; Germany, 67; Italy, 40; France, 29; Belgium, 24; England, 23; Russia, 20, and Spain, 14.—[Chicago Times.

Farm Lands In Different States.

The value of farming lands in the eountry is greatest in New Jersey. In 1888 farming lands averaged in New Jersey $65; Massachusetts, SSO; Ohio, $46; New York, sl4; Vermont, SB6: Maryland, $32; Wisconsin, $23, and in some western States less than $5 per acre.—[Charleston News and Courier."

No Place for the Helmet.

“Why should a soldier never lose his head in a battie?” asked a German captain of a private so’dier. • ‘Because if he did he wouldn’t have any place to put his helmet on.”—{Texas