Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 2, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 January 1894 — Page 4

' FT* " ! WHITHER THOU 60E8T. 9 ~ O I cried. Thou siidst thy path w*s strewn With roem, md behold my naked feet Hare tracked in crimson all thy ttwiy street, And faintness eometh swift upon me. Soon Shall I fall prostrate in tby cruel way, With eyes that leek not betwixt night and diy— Nor any joy of all thou told’st, is won. “Wonldst thou turn back ? said Lore, * Nay, nay, I cried, lead on! , O Lore, I cried, Thou saidst thine air was filled With unimagined melody; the lays That poets whisper in their hearts; tin praise Tumultuous, of the happy birds that build. I hear a burden of all grief and pain Harsh discords of reproach—the brokmrtrain Of one that by a rained nest mak s moan. “ Wouldst thou turn back 1 ’ said Love. Nay, nay, I cried, Lead on 1 O Lore, I cried. These be thy flowers that spring, Glorious with crimsin slain beneath m j feet; And mine own heart makei mdody more swept, For memoried sorrows, than thy glad bii ds sing. Fain woul 11 tarry in this happy place, Bnt thou still h oldest thine unloitering pace Toward the duk vale beyond the setting sun. “Wouldst thou turn back?” said Love. Nay, nay, I cried. Lead on! —[Solomon Solis-Cohen in B;ribner.

A TROUBLESOME TOOTH.

BY JAMES BUCKHAM.

“I declare, Josi’, ’f your head keeps on gettin’ much bigger you’ll hev to wear a peck measure ’stead of a hat!” Mrs. Tottenham turned from the sink, where she was peeling potatoes, and looked pityingly at her husband. Josiah sat near the kitohen stove, holding his head sidewise to the heat, with a most dolorous expression on his swollen face. “Why don’t y’ go and hev it hauled?" continued Mrs. Tottenham, as Josiah sat groaning and swaying in the old calicocushioned rocking chair. “Seems to me ’f I was a man I wouldn’t set and suffer as you be 'f there was a pair o’ pinchers and a doctor anywhere within ten miles. Sakes alive! how you be a squirmin’! Hev it out, I say. Hsin’t y’ got the curridge?” Josiah Tottenham looked up piteously, liis long, lank tody in the roCKing-chair until Ins stiff and swollen face squarely fronted ljjs wife. “I daresn't I 1 ’ he groauecl. “Lord! it jumps wus’n a grasshopper ev’ry time I think on’t. I couldn’t bear to hav no pinchers jscrtyicbed into them tender gums. Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord! Ugh-h-h-h!” With a long, sighing groan Josiah Tottenham drooped over the stove and stared blankly at the teakettle before him. Mrs. Tottenham stood in perplexed thought for a moment. Then a definite line of argument seemed to suggest itself to her, and she broke out, with apparent irrelevancy; “Josi’, do you remember the time you cut the Durham bull’s tail?” Josiah groaned affirmatively. “How he started off an the jump V snaked v’ all round the barnyard, V slewed y’ int' the fence V dragged y’ on yer back, but y’ never let go—just hung on like a plarster—V finally got yer knife to the right spot V sliced the critter’s tail jest where y’ wanted to?” Fora moment Josiah forgot his troublesome tooth under the spell of his wife’s vivid narration of a well-remembered triumph. He even attempted to smile, but the twinge of pain that shot through his nerves brought him back to the doleful present and he groaned aloud. “I sez to myself that day,” continued Mrs. Tottenham, diplomatically, “there’s mighty few men c’n compare with Josi’ Tottenham for pure grit.” She turned to the pan of potatoes and worked in silence for a minute, then resumed: “’Member the time y’ kotched a tramp asleep in the lower barn last spring ’n’ hauled him out by the coat an’ ducked him in the trough (” Josiah nodded. It was pleasant to be entertained with reminiscences of one’s personal prowess, even though the pleasure were punctuated with twinges of toothache. “Y’ know I sez to you then,” continued Mrs. Tottenham, “that I reckoned you wuz cut out f’r a soldier ’r some outdoor employment requirin’ bravery?”

Mr. Tottenham grunted complacently. "But the best of all,” exolaimed his wife, with triumphant climacteric fervor, “wuz when the old mare kicked yer in the stall and broke yer leg, an’ y’ jest hopped around and hitched her up an’ druv f’r yer own doctor without sayin’ a word to nobody. I call that genooine hee-roism, nowl” Josiah’s eyes glowed. He began to realize that he really was a man of uncommon fortitude, and he innocently and unsuspectingly rejoiced in the thought. Being neither logician nor diplomat, he did not see the point at which the wife was driving; and when she finally turned upon him, exclaiming, “Josi’, es I wuz such a man as you be I’d feel ashamed to knuckle down to a leetle snub of a tooth!” he was too astonished and bewildered to reply. The situation did seem ridiculous; he was obliged to admit that. But, oh! those fiendish, cold, cruel, crunching "pinchers!” Suddenly a compromise occurred to him. “Why couldn’t you pull it, Marthy?" he asked. "I seen you pull one of Ebcn’s teeth, onct, with a string.” "P’raps I could!” cried Mrs. Tottenham, whirling with readiness that made Josiah start. “Lemrae hev a look in your mouth, Josi’.” The oddly assorted couple went to the window—Josiah six feet four in his stockings, and Martha four feet six in hers. Martha Tottenham was the smallest woman in Willowtown and Josiah Tottenham was the largest man. Josiah sat down in a chair facing the window and opened his mouth as widely as he could under the circumstances. His wife looked into the dark cavity with the , compressed lips and frowning brow of one whose attention is taxed to the utmost. “There’s two or three angry lookin’ones, Josi’,” she said. "Which o’ ’em do you s’pose ’tis?” "The for’ard one o’ the lot. I cal’late,” replied Josiah. "The pain seems to kinder creep that way.” "Wal, now you jest set right where you be till I get a string,” said Mrs. Tottenham, moving away briskly toward the pantry. Josiah’s hands, gripping the chair-back, as he sat facing it, were bloodless with the intensity of his grasp. Eben, the eldest boy, had come in from the barn and stood stupidly stari iag at his father. "Coin’ to have it hauled?” he asked in an awestruck tone. His father nodded convalsively, looking straight out of the window up into the sky, his head tilted back and his mouth open in antioipatory agony. Mrs. Tottenham came out of the pintry with • piece of fine braided silk

I fishline in her hand. It was smaM, bit exceedingly strong and elastic. She stood over Josiah and made a “slipnoose” at the end of the string yrith tnt deft thumb and finger of a practical needlewoman. As she twirled the knot into shape Josiah winced. “Open yonr mouth wider, Josi’,” said his wife, firmly. Josiah made a painful attempt to comply. The muscles of hi» lips twitched and his eyes bnlged out as if he were being choked. A horrible fascination drew Eben closer to the ohair of torture. The boy was suffering almost aa keenly as his father, yet he could not go away. Mrs. Tottenham coolly dropped the silk loop around Josiah’! “for’ard” tooth and drew it tight. Josiah’s groan would have melted a March icicle, but it did not unnerve the determined little woman at his side. Bracing herself with one foot on the round ol the chair, she gave a sudden, swift and sleudy pull. For a moment Josiah’s big frame seemed about to rise and float away through the open window. Then the tooth came flying out; Mrs. Tottenham staggered backward and Joaiah settled dowß into his chair, a limp, bewildered, groaning, tortured mnss of outraged nerves. With a frightened cry, like that of a b'rd released from the spell of a serpent’s eye, the boy who had been watching the operation fled from the room.

A few minutea later Mrs. Tottenham came out into the barn with the tooth in her hand. “I want you to get rid of it, Eben, she said, with some agitation; “anyhow so's I shan’t know what you done with it. I don’t want yer father to ever see it. It’s a perfectly sound tooth—the only sound tooth he had in his head, I reckon! But don’t you ever say a word about that—mind, now.” It was a wonderful relief to the little woman that evening to see her husband’s face gradually shrinkiug to its normal proprotions nnd to hear his grateful acknowledgments of her skill and nerve as a dentist. “Is the pain entirely gone, Josi’?” she asked, as they were going to bed. “Every speck!” responded Mr. Tottenham. gleefully. “Goodness me?” mused the little woman smilingly, as she crawled under the blankets. “I’ve beern tell a good ’eal ’bout the power of the imagination, but 1 never s’posed it could straighten out the kind o’ mistake I made to-day!" “What you laughing’ ’bout, Marthy?" demanded Josiah, sleepily. “Oh, nothin’,” replied his wife. “I was jest wonderin’ what makes toothache, anyway.”—[Once a Week.

A Baby’s Influence.

Who can resist a baby? Perhaps some old bachelor will reply that he can not only resist one, but that he would likewise consider it a good plan to drown them all as soon as they were born, in kitten fashion. Well, the man of this type is left out of the category altogether, and in asking who can resist one of these dear little helpless bits of humanity we mean who, with a heart, can turn away from the dimpled, clinging hnnds, or not be won over by the innocent baby smile. No matter where the baby appears its influence is felt, says the Home Magazine. Let a mother and child enter a car, and five out of every six people will do nothing for the rest of the way but watch the baby, and the old gentleman with glasses, who has been absorbed in the reports of the stock market, will look pleased and smile down on the little mite who has taken such a f&Lcy to his goldbeaded cane, and will even unbend so far as to beam upon the mother and to say in his deep bass voice: “Very fine child, madam,” and if by chance the little creature should smile up into his face or evince any desire to be more friendly, the austerity that frightens his clerks almost out of their wits, and keeps them continually toeing the mark, will vanish entirely, and in its place will come an air of conscious superiority, as though the honor conferred upon him by the tiny morsel of humanity at his elbow had made him a trifle superior to those other of his fellow beings who had not received any such mark of distinguished consideration. Women, old and young unless they are dwarfed in their true nature, always love babies. The maternal instinct is the strongest aud best point in the feminine character, and from the time of doll dressing up to the day when their lives are gladdened by the adveni of a little stranger, they adore the winsome, helpless human beings that are dependent upon them for love and support. The thought of a curly head, a rosy mouth, or a little lisping voice joyously calling “papa” or “mamma,” has kept many a man and woman from despair and the many dangers of life that are worse than death.

Fate of the Old Navy.

The Navy Department is gradually doing away with the old men-of-war of historical and romantic memory, and a number of changes affecting them are to be made in the near future. The training ship Richmond at Newport is to be sent to Philadelphia to take the place of the St. Louis, which is in so decrepit a condition that she will probably be broken up and sold for the material in her. The Lancaster, now in China as the flagship of the Asiatic station, is under orders to sail for the United States when the cruiser Baltimore relieves her, and her active service as a war vessel will end on her arrival at Newport to take the place of the Richmond. The Lancaster will return from China via the Cape of Good Hope, and she is not expected home until March next. In the interim the old Constellation, now on special service, will remain at Newport in place of the liichmond. The Lanoaster will be fitted out as a gunneryinstruction ship. New gun-carriages and guns will be mounted on her and tested at sea in order to allow officers and men to become familiar with their workings. The Essex, the successor to the ship which made so gallant resistance to two British vessels, the Phoebe and the Cherub, in Valparaiso harbor in 1814, while commanded by Capt. David Porter, has been thoroughly repaired at the Norfolk navy yard and is now attached to the Naval Academy as part of the instruction fle.)t, and she is also used for seamanship and gunnery practice by the cadets. The Swatara and the Pensacola are now laid up in ordinary at the Mare Island navy yard, and it has been practical ly decided that they shall not be refitted, and sale and destruction will follow ultimately.

HONESTY.

"So you want employment in my store?” I “ Yes, sir,” replied the young man. "Do you keep books?” "I never borrow them.” And the merchant hired him on the strength of his honesty.—[Washington Star. \

CLOAKS AND WRAPS.

PRESENT STYLES WILL PREVAIL NEXT WINTER. Some of the Popular Designs that Are Shown Cepes with Long Stole Ends Are Much In Favor—High Collars Are Worn. Fashion's Foibles. New York correspondence:

capes so popular for shoulder finish of cloaks are less worn, or take the form of epaulette capes that are only over the shoulder and do not cross either front or back. Capes are worn, and are likely to be always favored. They ai e very full and mostly set on yokes. When the capes are in series, they fall from the shoulders instead of from the throat. Capes with long, stole ends like that in the first initial picture are much in favor. Made of brocaded velvet shot with green and a dull yellow, its fronts are trimmed with wide bands of velvet ribbon, which are ornamented with three rows of narrow jet passementerie and are held down at regular intervals with bunches of jet leaves. The cape is lined with pale-green silk and is finished with an epaulette collarette. The inner sides of the tabs as well as the standing collar arq trimmed with dark fur, preferably sable. For theater wear are shown some cloaks that recall rather too forcibly those worn by the gentlemen in Venice in the time of Sbylock, or of the sort displayed by Paulo, the handsome brother of the hunchback made fa-

EMPIRE MODELS OUTDOORS AGAIN.

mous on the stage. These little capes hang half off the shoulder and are finished with turn-over collars. They drop full and are made of the richest plush or brocade, being lined with contrasting satin or silk. Truth to tell, such little garments are rather an accessory to the dross than a covering, and they are sufficiently dainty and i%ost enough to have a mote established position in the economy, or, to put it in another way, in the extravagance of woman's dress. If you are clever enough to make one of these at home, you may use upholstery or curtain goods of the finer kinds and expend about half what dress goods would require. Some kinds of upholstery velvet are all cotton at the back, but for all that present a most beautiful right side surface, and come in rich and exclusive designs and colorings. To be sure, there is not much wear of the kind dress goods get in it, but for sleeves or a cape it is most suitable, being of splendid width and very cheap compared with the dress material it replaces. . The Empire styles have for some time been relegated to house wear, and of late the tendency has been toward discarding them even for indoor gowns. But now a newly stylish cut of coat is offered, wherein the loose fronts and back are sewn to a yoke, the seam being hidden by a wide strip.of braid, which recalls the Empire belts. The sleeves are very full, as shown in the accompanying sketch of this garment, and the collar is composed of a double ruching made of braid.' The whole is lined with satin and thinly wadded, and is well suited for middle-aged wearers. Very high collars arc generally worn and add to the length of the neck, which is good luck for the average woman who is in danger of being swamped in the detail of stylish covering. Sealskin and velvet are combined in a unique design. The former fits like the little jackets worn by pages in fashionable modistes’ establishments; that is, fits closely, fastens right up the middle of the front, is cut very short on the hips, and curves to a little Eton point front and back. To this sort of a bodice very full satinlined skirts of velvet are added. A slight modification of th*s fashion

COMPORT THE FIRST CONSIDERATION.

makes the bodice part double-breasted and employs very handsome bronze buttons. * To torn from such studied elegance to two garments which are so simple as to seem to be made with a view to comfort first of all is quite a chanee. But such things are sometimes lent a simple touch or two which, without display of great expense or necessitating the outlay itself, publish dearly, to

BOCT the same styles in cloaks and wraps as those now worn will prevail next winter, so the woman with a few dollars to invest is made frantic by the number of bargains offered. The display in cloaks is simply appalling, but, of course, you take risks from moths and storing over summer. A popular design is that with very full skirts,sleeves very large and drooping at the shoulder and narrowing to the wrists. The

the feminine half at least ot tne worm, that the wearer is in touch with Dante Fashion’s requirements. A jacket and a three-quarter cape appear in the third picture which are entirely unostentatious and comparatively inexpensive, yet which are stylish garments. The cape is gray armure trimmed with passementerie and black astrakhan, and the jacket is cut from seal-brown beaver and set off tastafully with Persian lamb. The rule now Es put fur on it and have the fur in narrow strips and small pieces. In obeying this law many extravagant notions are developed, but perhaps the most extravagant on 3is that which makes fringes of “tails." A remarkable ball wrap of steel-gray velvet was magnificently ornamented with a deep and close fringe of ermine tails, about six

NOT A GOWN TO BE HUGGED IN.

inches from its edge, while about the foot came a cord of the tails twisted together. Perish the thought that the tails can be imitated, but can one bear to think that any woman would allow herself to be the stalking hoi se for bo many poor little dead creatures? Whyever do they ngt cultivate fur bearing that shall have two or three tails, or that shall bo all caudal extremity. Sable tails are much used tJedge cloaks and capes and winter hats are close and of velvet, two tails standing orect at the side. It is so natural of tails to do that! Very rich velvet is used in skirts for street wear over cloth. The velvet is fitted closely over the hips, the gores spreading to the full width of the velvet, and the breaths are then allowed to spread separately, so that the underskirt of cloth appears. The velvet is silk back and unlined, and the selvages show. This Fame idea is carried out for ball gowns with velvet and tulle, the tulle billowing out under the velvet in charming contrast. In the street dress pictured, dark-green velvet is used for the zig-zag stripe about the skirt, for the yoke, belt and cuffs, ■ and a band of it edges the shoulder frills. In each instance, except the yoke, there comes just above the velvet a zig-zag pattern of chenille. The dress goods are a grayish-green woolen stuff. The final pictured model is an example of the draped overskirt, of unEleasant memory, which promises to e fashionable by spring. / Elaborate dressers among actresses display costumes which include th|s ovefskirt, and already an occasional one is seen upon the street. The material of the costume shown is silver-gray silk trimmed with dark grayish-red velvet. The foundation skirt of taffeta silk is covered with velvet at the parts exposed bv the opening of the front. The edges of the panel front are finished with gray silk passementerie, which is seen in three rows at the bottom of the skirt. The overdress is cut longer than the skirt, and is caught up as indicated. It parts behind to show a velvet strip, similar to those in front. The bodice has a velvet jacket finished at the top with a serpentine ruffle, and the narrow circular basque is

ZIG-ZAGED WITH VELVET AND CHENILLE.

also made of velvet and lined with silk. Street dresses are often made throughout of material so heavy that a few years ago it would have been classed as cloaking. Such gowns have lap seams and are severely tailormade. The swellest of these goods comes fleeced on the under side, and is allowed to turn over for revers and cuffs, arid adds much to the elegance of the material. Double-faced goods [come also, cne side being a dark, solid color, -the other being either repped heavily with a contrasting color,- , Qr fleeced in a harshade. The effect is elegant in polonaise effects when the polonaise turns away at the shoulders in revers that show the double side of the goods, and the skirt is made up with the” double side out, the bodice being yoked with the double side showing. Skirts are worn which contrast in color and material with the bcdices. This is much seen at the theater and in reception gowns,' and there is much wisdom in the adoption of silk for skirts made up simply. In the usual crush at receptions, or in the getting in and out through the crowded aisles of a theater, a wool or velvet skirt, or one lace-trimmed or finished with fur, is most uncomfortable wear and subject to fatal injury. Copyright, 1894.

Refined crystallized sugar, whether made- from the beet or the sugar cane, is almost chemically pure saccharose, and is the same substance in both cases. Few articles of food are so generally free from adult ?ration as granulated—not powdered or coffee-crushed —sugar. Ragged hedges index ragged carpets, rusty stoves, dilapidated barns, tumble-down sheds, unsheltered farm machinery, and other things in similar shape about a run-down farm. —America fl Agriculturist.

A DIAMOND IN HIS FLESH.

Mystery of a Valuable Gem Cut From a Mao’s Arm by a Physician. “Like the rain that favors none, but (alls on the unjust as well as the just, a physician has to minister to the vicious as conscientiously as to the righteous and to keep as scrupulously for the former such secrets as he learns in bis attendance on them,” remarked a doctor to a Philadelphia Timea reporter. “I was a much younger man than lam now, when one night my bell rang after I bad retired. I got up and let in a man who seemed to shrink from observation until my door was fairly closed on him. Then he took off his coat and rolled np the sleeve of his shirt, exposing the whole of his left arm. He then directed my attention to a hard knot on the under side of the arm. “I felt this and was at a loss to diagnose its character, but the man, who seemed to be amused at my perplexity, finally said: ‘I might as well tell you, doctor, what it is. It is that that has brought me to you to-night That is an artificial substance inserted in the flesh of my arm by myself. And I want you to cut it out.’ “I stared and at first refused, when he said: ‘lf you don’t do it the doctor next door will, and from what I’ve heard of you I think you’ll act the straightest with me about this matter.’ “I was not influenced by his threat to go to some other physician nor by his compliment, but I was curious myself to know what that imbedded substance could be. So I got out my knife and asked the fellow if he would take ether or chloroform, but he declared that he had opened the arm to insert the thing without not only an ansesthetic but any instrument except a dull dinner knife. The thing, whatever it was, had been in the arm some time, as it was covered with flesh aud skin that had grown since it had been there, but a few gashes with my lancet bioight it to the surface, but it was so bloody that I could not make but its nature. The fellow was ghastly pale, but had set his teeth and borne without a murmur the pain, and now laughed. “ ‘Drop it in your basin of water thgre, Doc., and see what you’ll see,’ he said. “I did so, and saw as fine an uncut diamond as was ever brought to this country. lam not lapidary enough to have a very correct idea of its value, but it must have been many thousands of dollars. “Involuntarily, I exolaimed, ‘Why, where did you get such a stone?' but the man’s eyes hardened in a moment, and he said: ‘lf you’re the sharp fellow I take you to be, you know from the pains with which it was hidden that there’s a story to that diamond that I ain’t giving away. But I’m willing to pay you well for your trouble, and I know from what I heard of you that you ain’t peaching of what takes place here.’ “I dressed the cut and he left me S3OO for the job, though I only asked him S2O, and then I let him out, and that was the last I ever saw or heard of him, though I have often speculated how and where he came into possession of the stone, for that he was a common smuggler I do not believe.”

HOUSEHOLD ACCIDENTS.

A slight cut or abrasion on the hand, or a slight burn, may become a serious matter if it is totally neglected. Where the skin is torn or cut it is desirable in the first place that the wound should bleed freely. Cases of lockjaw are of rare occurrence where this is the case, and a very slight wound of the hand oi foot has been known to produce this dangerous malady where bleeding did not follow. One of the greatest dangers lies in a wound of a kitchen knife, which may have held impure matter, and even from tho scratch of a pin, and fatal cases of blood poisoning have frequently resulted from so simple a cause. Absolute cleanliness, therefore, is necessary in the treatment of such a wound. After the wound has bled a little it should be washed with perfectly clean water. That which has been boiled is best for the purpose, and there is no harm in using a little carbolic acid in the proportion of a drop or two to a quart of water. Do not attempt to stanch bleeding by the use of cobwebs, which are naturally dirty and full of impure germs, but use a little lint and a clean cotton or linen cloth. These should be always kept in the houses for use in case of such accidents. A trustworthy druggist will always supply some preparation of- carbolic acid, properly weakened, for household use. Even household ammonia, though it is painful at first, is recommended as a mild way of cauterizing a simple wound. A thick paste of equal parts of commo i baking soda and flour, wet to a paste with cold water, is the best remedy for a burn. It is better than lime water, because lime water is liable to become incrusted, while the paste of soda and flour is cooling to the surface and can easily be removed. The object of treating a burn is to cover the extremities of the nerves which have been injured and give them opportunity to heal. While such a paste is being prepared cover the wound for the moment with comihon flour and wrap it up in clean cotton. A simple healing plaster, which may be prepared in the household, calls for half a pound of rosin, an ounce each of mutton tallow, camphor gum and beeswax, half an ounce each of British oil, cedar oil, gum myrrh and linseed oil. Melt therosin, mutton tallow, camphor gum, beeswax and gum myrrh together, and add the oils. This plaster should be spread on cotton when needed and applied to the wound.—f New York Tribune. •

Ivy Within Doors.

The Germans cultivate ivy in vtheir houses with great success. Plaoing a root in a large pot by one side of the window, they will train it as it grows until it forms a pretty frame for the entire window. The English ivy growing over the walls of a building, instead of promoting dampness, as most persons would suppose, is said to be a remedy for it, and it is mentioned as a fact that in a room where dampness had prevailed for a length of time the affected parts inside had become dry when ivy had grown up to cover the opposite exterior side. The close, overhanging pendant leaves prevent the rain or moisture from penetrating the wall. In order to train ivy over a door buy a couple of brackets, such as lamps for the burning of kerosene are'sometimes placed on, and screw them to the sides of the door. Put in each a plant of English ivy, the longer the better, then train the plants over the top against the sides—any way your fancy dictates. The common unglazed pots will answer every purpose by placing in each two or three sprays of Coliseum ivy. In a month's time no vestige of the pot itself can be discerned through thick screens.—[New York Recorder. v

A LIBERAL FAKIR.

He Takes Pleasure in Giving His Goods Away. A game of “throwing a sprat to catch a mackerel” was plsyed in s court off Green street the other dsy, and the who played it was the centre of a crowd which seemed perfectly dazed. He was actually giving money away. The people could not understand it; nevertheless, they did not miss the opportunity of getting a little wealth easily. ‘There you are, gentlemen,” he said. “Here a quarter.” Who gives, me twenty cents for it? Come on, now, good money, don’t be afraid 1 I’m the man that sold guineas on London bridge for a penny and couldn’t sell one. Who takes it?” Nobody seemed at first to understand, but presently one man handed up twenty cents and get the quarter. Before the crowd could complete an examination, to see if it was genuine, the fakir shouted: “Here’s the twenty. Who gives fifteen for it?” This was another surprise, but it was not long before a man made the trade. Then fifteen were sold for ten, and so on until the fakir gave the last cent away, talking “like a house afire” all the time, and occasionally remarking: “I don’t covert moDey. I give it away. I’m the fellow that’s driving the fakirs out of business.” Then he fished something out of his bag. “Heie’s a watoh,” he said; “a watch ought to be worth fifty cents if it’s worth anything. Who gives me fifty cents? Nobody? All right! Who wants it? l’il give it away 1” A mac in the crowd got it. “Here’s another watch. Who wants it? Won’t somebody give me fifty cents for it?” A man handed over the money, but the fakir spurned it. saying: “Here, take your money. Take the watch. I’m giving things away.” Another watch was brought forth and and offered, money produced and not accepted. Still another. “Who wants it?” asked the fakir again. A young fellow offered fifty cents. guess I’ll keep this for luck,” said tho fakir. Then be gave another away and kept on doing so, occasionally accepting the money and keeping it “for luck.” In a few minutes he was doing a brisk business and money was changiug hands at a great rate. “Hero’s a ling, solid brass, but its got three tiers of gold on it. It ought to be worth a cent, and if you’re smart you ought to mnke a dollar on it. See! It’g got ‘lB-carats’ marked on the inside.” He sold the ring—sold lots of them—then began to throw trinkets in a hat. “ Who buys the lot ?” he asked. Nobody wanted to bid, He held up a quarter and dropped that into the hat; nobody wanted to buy. He dropped in a fifty-cent piece. Somebody purchased the lot for half a dollar. “Put it right in your pocket and look out for more bargains,” said the fakir, and the people secreted their purchases from the eyes of a curious crowd. He sold trinkets,money nnd everything else; the people seemed astounded by his liberality and spent their money. After a while a number of his best customers began to look thoughtful and then sneaked off and examined their purchases. One man, who had apparently received seventy-five cents and a hatful of trinkets for half a dollar found the trinkets and two cents. The seventyfive cents probably went up the fakir’s sleeve. He had given away $1 and made S2O. —[Boston Herald.

Blue Eyes and Bullets.

The annual report of Lieutenant C. L. Collins, inspector of small arms practice of the Department of the Colorado, shows some interesting facts. Nationally, the result of one year’s competition shows the following result, with a possible score of 100: Norway, 98.18; Austria, 91; Switzerland, 88.82; Ireland, 87.41; France, 84; Denmark, 83.91; Scotland, 80; Germany, 76.80; Canada. 76.30; Belgium, 74; United States, 72. 73; England, 68.79; Mexico, 65; East Indies, 65; Sweden, C 0.53; West Indies, 58; Russia, 57.78; Italy, 55; Holland, 45; Wales, 35; Australia, 10. There were but one Australian and twp Welshmen in the competition. Of the 2,200 officers and enlisted men classified as practising in the department, 65.77 per cent. were born in the United States; of these 82.73 per cent, are white and 17.27 colored. Compared as to theirgmerit at the target the whites scored 80.42 and the colored men 50.58. In his table showing the merits of the troops and their height, men six feet tall and over rank 83.06 per cent, and 5.5 men 69.56. It is almost a steady plane down hill from six feet to five feet five inches. Men with light blue eyes rank Highest, followed in their order by dark blue, slate blue, light brown, dark brown and black. In the colored troops light blue eyes again stand at the top, but followed in this instance by slate blue, light browD, dark brownj black and dark blue. There is but one troop' of Indians in Ge eral McCook’s command, being L, of the Second Cavalry. This troop not only stands at the h‘ead of its regiment for revolver firing, but is at the head of the entire department. This, however, is for troop work. Whites beat them individually.—[Denver Republican.

Why Windmills Burned Down.

Of the production of fire by the friction of wood against wood, windmills of the old construction gave, on a large scale, some disastrous examples. Then the force of the wind increased, tfie miller was obliged to bring each of the sails in succession to the ground, in order to “unclothe” it; but when sudden squalls came on this was impracticable, and the mill, rn extreme cases, ran away, i. e., could not be stopped. Everything was now done to increase the grip of the wooden brake round the great wheel on the driving shaft, and water poured copiously over them, but in spite of all this, flames would sometimes burst out from the iniense friction, and the mill be probably burned down as the result. The beautiful machinery of the modern windmill,by which the miller controls the action of the sails from the interior of the building, has reduced this danger to a minimum.— [Notes and Queries.

London’s Rate of Mortality.

The rate of mortality of London is shown by a recent report to have steadily decreased with the introduction and perfection of adequate means for disposing of the sewage of the city. In the latter half of the seventeenth century the average annual mortality is estimated at something over 80 per 1,000; at the end of the eighteenth century it had dropped to 50 per 1.000, and in 1892 it was only \9.1 per 1,000.

FOR THE YOUNG FOLKS.

HE* POETRT. A certain small five-year-old has a passion for a sort of poetry which is independent of ail literary characteristics except rhyme. One day she was seen to regard her doll affectionately and was heara to murmur: “Her soft brown hair Curled tight to her head; We looked at her sociably , And thought she was dead.” KILLED HIS BEST EMEND. Some six months ago (writes a South African correspondent) I was traveling in tho Northern Transvaal, when, within sixty or seventy miles of Pretoria, I met a Dutchman on horseback. As we drew near each other I observed that the Boer was crying. Meeting, at length, I gave him the usnal salutations, and asked him if he were suffering. In the dialect of the land he assured me that bodily he was all right, but his heart was “very sore.” He went on to explain that he had killed his best friend—“meinhund.” He said that suddenly his dog took to jumping up and catching the bridle in bis mouth, seriously interfering with the horae.’a pace. He had driven the dog off more than ouce, but the animal -still persevered in its strange attentions. At length, struck with the fear that the dog might be suffering from some form of madness, he turned his rifle upon him and fired. The dog ran back along the road, and its owner proceeded on his way. Later it suddenly dawned upon the Boer that he had left his coat at his last off-saddling place. A coat is too expensive an article for a Transvaal farmer to think about leaving behind, so the Boer turned in his tracks and sought to recover his lost garment. Arriving at his last resting-place he found not only his coat but his dog. The poor animal, being unable to make his master comprehend his loss, had returned to safeguard his master's property. The bullet had told its tale—the dog lay dead.—-[The Million.

LIVING LUNCH BASKETS.

Of course it is not at all surprising that you should carry your lunch with you when you are going to be away from home all day, but think of an animal doing such a thing! There is the camel, for instance. Everybody knows that it carries its drinking water with it, but it does more; it carries its lunch too. That hump on the camel’s back is not a curvature of the spine, as it may seem, but a mass of fatty material. That hump, in fact, is the camel’s lunch basket. When a well-fed, healthy camel starts out on a journey across the desert, its water pouch is full, and its hump is big. When water fails, the camel has only to draw on its reservoir, and when food is wanting, the hump is called upon. Not that the camel helps itself to bites of its hump. That would be a decidedly uncomfortable way of getting a meal, and very likely the camel would rather go hungry than do that. In some way the hump is gradually absorbed, and for a long time after tne camel has been unable to find anything to eat it can get along very comfortably on what its hump supplies it with. By and by, of course, the hump is used up, and theD the camel will starve as quickly as any other animal. A great deal more like a genuine luneb basket is the bag the pelican carries its food in. The pelican is about as ungainly and odd a bird as can be found, and yet is a very interesting one. It has great webbed feet, short legs, big body, huge wings and an enormous head. Its head is mostly bill, and on the under part of tho bill is a flabby bag made of tough skin. That bag" can stretch and stretch until it can hold an incredible quantity of fish, for it is in that bag that the pelican puts the fish it catches for its food. When tho bag is full, the pelican rises heavily from the sea, aqsl with broad sweeps of its great wiDgs flaps slowly to the shore, where it alights and prepares to enjoy the meal it has earned. One by one the still living fish are tossed into the air and come down head first into thg wide-opened mouth of the hungry bird. Then there are some of x the South American monkeys which have curious little lunch baskets in their cheeks. Everybody must have seen monkeys staffing and stuffing food into their mouths until their cheeks were bulged quite out of shape. It looks as if the greedy littlqf fellows were merely cramming (heir mouths full. The truth is, many of tire monkeys have queer little pockets in their cheeks into which they can stow enough food for a meal. Nor do the full cheeks interfere at all with the chewing of the monkeys any more than if the pockets were outside instead of inside of the mouth. But there is a little animal called the pouched rat which has au odder way than this of carrying its food. On each side of its face is a pouch which looks very much like a kid glove finger drawn in at one end. These pouches stick ‘ straight out from the face and can be made to hold a large supply of food. The cow and deer and sheep and other similar animals have still another way of laying in a supply of food. They bite off grass and leaves and swallow them; without chewing a't alt. The food goes-, into a special stomach, there to stay until it is wanted. When the animal is ready for it, a ball of the food is made, up in that first stomach and sent up in the animal’s mouth That ball is just a mouthful, and the animal can chew it comfortably. After it is chewed and swallowed it goes into the properstomach and is digested. Eating in that way is called ruminating.—[Harper’sYoung People.

A Story on Senator Stewart.

They are telling a good story in Washington on Mr. Stewart as a revenge for his interminable speeches. Before the night session began tne Senate had adjourned and several of them were getting their hats in the cloak room, Mr. Stewart among them, when one of his fellow Senators said: “Stewart, you remind me of a clergyman.” Mr. Stewart naturally stated, and the:* laughed and asked, “How, pray?” “Yes; you are like a certain minister who was telling a friend that he had preached two hours and a half. ‘Were you not very tired?’ said the friend, sympathetically. ‘No, na, I was as fresh as a rose; but you should have seen the congregation. ’ [Buffalo Commercial.

A Valuable Carpet.

The woollen carpet which has covered the coiners’ room in the San Francisco mint for several years was recently cremated. By refining the ashes the Government recovered 279 ou&ces of gold, worth 15,500. The assessed valuation of the Uuited Stites Is &5, 000,000,000.