Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 February 1894 — Page 4

TWO DREAMERS. Under a tree two dreamers lay. And ante one did the wind's voice say, “Castle Pleasure is bnilding fast; I heard the hammer as I flew past.” But to the other the wind’s voice said, “Hill Endeavor lies just ahead.'' The dreamers rose. The years sped by, And the wind blew out of the changing sky. • He who wrought for his brother well Came to the castle of Joy to dwell; He who turned from the toilsome hill, Seeking his castle —is seeking still. James Buckram.

OUT OF THE DEPTHS.

A TALE UF THE MIXES. “Is that vour last word, Kate?" “My last.*” “You have no love to give me?" * “How many times must you ask me?” “But it seems that I have looked into your eyes and that they have given me a different answer than your tongue. Deny it or not, Kate, your eyes have looked into mine and told me that I had a small place in your heart. I have seen it, say what you may, and though your voice was silent, your eyes, my bonnie Kate, have whispered soft promises that caused my temples to throb and blood to rush to my head, until I seemed half mad with joy.” She, a stalwart English lass, brown as a berry, as handsome an example of a working woman as ever lived, laugned. It was a musical, bewitching laugh, but it sounded like a deathknell to the man who stood before her. with face aflame with passion. He was a tall specimen of the AngloSaxon type of miner, with arms like a blacksmith and the legs and thighs of an athlete. Kate was the daughter of the captain of the mine, and came from the same part of England to America when the mining industry here was almost in its infancy; when there was no over-production of any ore, and fortunes were more easily made than now. For some time Geoffry had been suitor for her hand. i>nd Kate had played fast and loose until at times the demon of jealousy raged so furiously that he was almost beside himself. To see his Kate, upright as a sapling—Kate, whose every movement was the majesty of motion —with the figure of a woman,and the heart and caprices of a maid; with the soft eyes of a deer and the tongue of a shrew—to see Kate, the embodiment of noble physical development, in the arms of another at the dance, with no word for him, was torture, keen and exquisite. And then when he approached her, the angry flush upon his face, there was “balm in Gilead" in the soft glance she shot at him, and he forgot his resentment in the contemplation of her face. And now at twilight time they two stood just without the door of her father s cottage. The sun was going dow n in a haze like tliat seen on the ocean. It was not a golden sun, though so near its resting place, but a sun of silver, bright and shining, in harmony with the snow-covered surface of the earth and the gray sky. Above the hills the shaft-houses were sharply defined against the sky, and in the distance the forests those noble Michigan forests—seemed like a dark fringe around the pallid landscape. The man drew nearer to the woman,

“Can you deny, Kate, that your eyes have told me you might care for me?” “Pshaw! A woman’s eyes, Geoffrey! They may say many things they do not mean.” “You mean you have been playing with me,” “Oh, I do not say so.” “Kate, take care.” “Of what?” “You are playing with fire," lass. My love must have its way—you must be mine.” “Must?' Indeed! Y’ou have a pleasant manner of winning a woman. Surely I may love whom I choose.” “Yes; and you love that Norwegian. At the dance I saw how you looked at him—how you encouraged him, while I stood aside With the rage in my heart to kill you both. Before that scoundrel came between us two ”

“You forget yourself to defame a man behind his back. It is cowardly I —if he were here ” “You defend him. You love him?” Defiantly: “And if it were true?” He grasped her arm with a cry. “It cannot be, Kate. You must love no one but myself. You belong to me, lass, and I ” “Let go my arm.” “I will not.” “Coward 1” ' “Perhaps.” , “I shall hate you.” “It is as w r ell since you do not love me.” “At last I understand you. I despise you now that I know you. Let go of my arm.” “No.” “It is the part of a man to exert brute strength over a woman. I believe you are coward enough to strike a woman.” “What!” He released her arm and stood before her, pale as death. One hand he passed nervously through his hair, while his features worked convulsively. She, with figure erect and blazing eyes, confronted him. “If that is your last word, goodbye,” he said, “fell your Norwegian to look out or I will kill him.” “Perhaps he’s a better man than you.” “Don’t drive me too hard with your tongue.” “Next time you think to win a sweetheart,, learn how to treat her.” “Kate, something oppresses me. Something is going to happen on the morrow. Should you care if I met my death in the mine?” She laughed lightly. “Not at all.” Without a word he turned and walked away. She watched his figure vanishing in the light of the silver •on. “Fool J” she said. “Has he not i ywt learned that no man on earth drive met” 'll 'iMw' ftlraf*L ■.

Then she went into the house and I stood thoughtfully near the window where were many flowers. She heard ! a step behind her and liegan to hum softly. “ Art light-hearted. lass?" said her father's voice, and the next moment | she was in his arms. He looked at her proudly, with her noble figure, her strong arms and her broad, handi some sac true woman of the j people, a daughter of the mines. “Weel. thou art no featherweight, lass,” he remarked, and then escaping from him, she went into the I kitchen, where he heart! her moving I about, still humming to herself. There was a knocking on the window. [ Turning she saw the Norwegian and smiled pleasantly. Then he came in and asked permission to sit down and watch her preparations for supper. This she granted and his eyes brightened as he followed her with his gaze. The light fell upon her hair and there was a strange look upon her face. “Will you not stay to supper?" she asked. He assented eagerly. Half an hour later Geoffey, passing by, saw them all three sitting together, chatting gaily. With a curse he turned away and for hours tramped over the snow in the darkness.

On the day following, Geoffry and the Norwegian were working on the footwall on the third tier from the level mining out the fourth tier underhand. This portion of the mine had caved in the year previous and the rooms were filled and the posts more or less crushed, so that great care was necessary in taking out the pillars. They had worked out one lot of sets on the east side of the pillar and were engaged on the one next to it. In mining these crushed pillars, sets of smaller dimensions are used in order that very little ground should be opened at one time without timber. Here the ground was so soft that laths were driven to support the back until the timber could be put in. This particular set was nearly out and a prop and head board had been erected to support the laths, this prop resting on a plank laid across the lagging of the set below. Geoffry and the Norwegian were working silently, but now and then the*y gazed furtively at each other. The heart of the Englishman was full of insane jealousy and he was not himself that morning. After his long walk the evening before he had drank until daylight, and new with the liquor working in his brain, mad desires chased one another through his mind and he regarded the Norwegian with the glance of a wild beast—a look that impelled the latter to the greatest caution. Never once did he turn his back to the Englishman; never once was his attention detracted from his danger. Like two dumb brutes, filled with savage impulse, the primal wish of man to kill, they worked side by side in the narrow place. The Norwegian moved to the other end where work was necessary, when suddenly he slipped. With a hoarse cry the Eng'ishman sprang forward with uplifted implement to brain his fallen antagonist, when suddenly there was a crashing behind them; the framework gave way; huge masses of ore and rock descended with a rumble

like an avalanche. The Englishman stood stock still, thinking his last day had come; in a moment he was frozen like a statue. When he recovered his senses he heard the groan of the Norwegian and saw that he was pinned to the earth by mdsses of ore. Hastening to him, as best he might, he removed the ore from the crushed body, which he took in his arms and bore to the other end of the chamber in which they were literally entombed. The Norwegian was groaning in the greatest pain and Geoffry lifted his head and pressed his flask to the lips of the dying man, whose eyes never even in his agony left those of the other. While before the picture was that of primal man, born to kill, to slay, to annihilate, now it was a picture of that human brotherhood which lies deep down beneath all evil desires and toward which the young world is struggling and struggling. Into the eyes of the Norwegian the Englishman was gazing. Both were members of the same fraternal working order. The breath of the dying man came in gasps, shorter and .shorter; the light faded from those deep-set eyes and the form be-

came stiff. Geoffry’s .rival was dead. The Englishman, shut up in that horrible prison, threw himself upon the body and wept. How long he remained thus he never knew, for what are periods when anguish annihilates time—when the lines of the poet, “out of space, out of time,” give a certain divinity to numan nature. Geoffry did not suffer from suffocation. Although shut out from the world by what seemed a solid wall, a draft of air was apparent, and it was evident there were crevices somewhere.

Meanwhile the news of the disaster had spread far and wide. The captain v r as busy over his books in his little office and near him sat bonny Kate. Why did she come? Was it to catch a glimpse of the Norwegian as he emerged from the shaft? Was love, then, so Impatient? A man covered with dirt and grime rushed into the office. “An accident, captain ” “Where?” “On the third tier. The Norwegian, Bnorgson, and Geoffry were working there.” Kate gave a cry. Her face was the color of the pallid landscape now, and she sprang up like a aeer shot to the heart, while w r ith quivering lips she gazed at the messenger of evil. “Is he—are they killed?” she asked, the w T ords falling slowly. “There isn’t much chance.” Now in the mine the men were working witty a will, clearing away the enormous masses of ore and rock. The only chance for the men was that they were imprisoned, not crushed, and that was a faint hope at the best. Among the throng of workers was Kate, who herself worked untft her strength was exhausted. Gangrelieved gang and still the great mass seemed to become but the more impregnkble. On the second day the men paused, for they thought they heard something. They listened intently. It was a faint rapping on a timber. "They are alive—at least, one of

I them ” shouted a miner. “To work i with a will, men." Then Kate, aroused from her stupor. took her place among the workers. Back, lass,” said her father. “A j stronger arm is needed here.” "My arm is strong, father,” she J said. They gazed at her and let her have her way. “Her sweetheart’s there,” said one ! of the men. “Yes; the Norwegian.” On the third day the tapping was fainter and then it ceased. Next morning they reached the men. The Englishman was dead, apparently. Both bodies were taken to the sarface. At the word “dead,” Kate, worn out, had fallen unconscious. Suddenly one of the men who had been bending over the Englishman shouted: “There’s life here.” The captain knelt by his side and heard the faint beating of the heart. “Carry the lad to my house,” he commanded. When Geoffry came to himself he was lying in a small room near the window. Upon the window sill were flowers. Bending over him was a woman. Someone held his hand; lips were pressed to his forehead; kindly, sympathetic eyes gazed into his, and their tender light bewildered him. “Kate!” “Geoffry!” “It is you, sweetheart?" “It is I, dear.” What did this mean? His head was now resting on her bosom, the broad, womanly bosom, of this woman of the people. Her lips close to his whispered : “How do you feel, dearest?” “In heaven, Kate. I have had a bad dream ” “Hush, dear heart. Get well, for my sake." “For yours, Kate?” “Yes, yes, for mine—for mine.” “Then you " “Love you? Yes, yes.” “My sweet lass! But why " “Geoffry, Geoffry, sweetheart, did you know your Kate so little you thought to drive her? You could not command me—your jealousy could not force me to be yours—but you may lead me to the end of the world. There, close your eyes. You are worn and weary. You have nearly passed from me and my life would have been misery. Think how I suffered, darling, while you were in that tomb. Then I knew what my love for you was and I prayed that you might be saved, that I could hold you in my arms and beg you to take me and cherish me. I prayed that you might be saved so that my devotion could undo the harsh words of the past. Do you forgive me, my own, my treasure?" “Lass, lass, pray God I might die again to hear such words.”

“There, there! Speak no more, Geoffry. Rest, rest. The doctor said you must sleep. Close your eyes, for your Kate is watching over you." “As I may some day watch over you, Kate?” “While this life lasts, if you will.” “Kiss me, dear.” For the first time she pressed her l ips to his, and then he slept peacefully, with a flush upon his cheek. When her father entered he looked at them in surprise. “Is it so, lass?" “Aye, father."' “I thought it was the other.” But she only smiled and gazed fondly at the sleeping man. The silver sun wentdown that night again in a silver haze. Over the hills in solemn procession the miners,with bowed heads; carried the Norwegian to his grave. No funeral hearse, no carriages were there. Sadly the silver sun sank out of sight. More vividly the shaft houses were defined, marking the places where human beings went down seeking that which is in the earth, where they are born and where they must die. There is no happiness not tinged with sorrow. But in the small room a woman,whose face was touched with silver light, bent over the man with the solicitude that a mother displays while looking on her slumbering child. Sink, silver sun; fade, light, from the hills; come, darkness, with ebon shroud; murmur, gloomy voices, through the whispering Michigan pines! There is no night, when comes the day-dawn of the soul! For mines may give out, external things may change, but there is that which endures forever.—Detroit Free Press.

Football in Sumatra.

Among the Malays football has been in existence from time immemorial, says the New York Times, but it is, with them, essentially a game, as, for instance, battledore and shuttlecock is with us, and it is not a contest. The football is rather smaller that that used at Eton, and is made of wicker work. Those who join in the game arrange themselves in a wide circle and kick the ball from one to another with the inside, or at times with the flat of the foot. The object of the players is to keep the ball passing about without its ever touching the ground or the hand of any one. Great dexterity is shown in its performance, and the ball is usually kicked to a very respectable height. There seems to be no penalty to be exacted from a player who may kick the ball badly or fail to kick it at all.

They are High-Toned.

The common Greeks in Athens, as well as in Constantinople, do not regard themselves as Europeans, though they would probably feel insulted if ypu called them Asiatics, says a writer in the Queen. Constantinople may consequently be divided roughly into Pera, the European quarter; Galata, the Greek quarter, and Stamboul, the ancient Turkish city, which was Greek before it became Turkish by conquest. There is also a smaller Greek quarter left on the Stamboul side, which contains the Patriarchate. There are half a million Greeks lin Constantinople. Pera is the least interesting portion of the city, but its sanitation is the best, and you are not liable to be killed by a too faithful son of the prophet or eaten up by dogs for venturing out at night.

THE JOKER'S RUDGET.

JESTS AND YARNS BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. Not Woll Equipped-- Fourteen Dollar* Difference- - Her Reply--A Dis- • sembler-r-Etc., Etc. NOT WEIL EQUIPPED. Griggs-—Don’t you 4hmk that Dr. Bolus is a pretty good physician? Briggs—Good physician ! Well, I should say not. Why, that man couldn’t cure a ham!—Somerville Journal. FOURTEEN DOLLARS DIFFEREXCE. “Paw, is there any difference between a cold and a influenzy?" “If the doctor calls it a cold, the bill is about $4. If he calls it influenza, it’s about f 18. The difference is sl4, my son.”—[Chicago Record. HER REPLY. “You look sweet enough to eat,*’ said Josh Sassafras to his best girl on Sunday afternoon. “You just wait till supper time and you 11 see me eat,” was her reply.— [Harlem Life. A DISSEMBLER. Bragg—l know a thing or two. Scapely—Y'ou sly dog!—[Life. AX' EXCEPTION. W atts—Large bodies move slowly. Potts—Did you ever see a fat man slip on a banana peel?—[lndianapolis Journal. A CURIO. Railroad Man (angrily)—l have just found out that that cow we had to pay for had not given any milk for five years. Farmer Smartt—Y'aas; that’s so. “It is, is it? Now, sir, what right had you to put such a high value on her? Tell me that.” “Wall, you see, I valued that cow as a curiosity.”—[Life.

MITIGATED CIRCUMSTANCES. Bob Keyworth was paying attention to a rich widow in Harlem. “Madam,” he said, as he offered her a bouquet, “you are getting more and more beautiful every day.” “You exaggearte, my dear sir,” exclaimed the lady, very much flattered. “Well, then, let us say every other day,” said Boh.— [Texas Siftings. TRYING TO THINK. Physically little ’Liz’beth was in the bath tub; but her mind was soaring into infinity, as it has a very uncomfortable habit of doing. “Why are you keeping your eyes shut?" asked her mother. “ 'Cause I’m trying to think of something.” “What are you trying to think of?" “Of how things looked before the world was made. ’ ’—[Washington Star. A DELICATE ATTENTION. Vivian (of certain years)—You treated me as if I were an old maid to-day when Mr. Spooner was calling. Guinevere—Nonsense, my dear. Why, he and I had been talking about old people and we changed the subject the minute you came in the room.—[Chicago Herald. FIRED. His heart was fired by love of her— The old man had retired, But soon he ambled in and then The rest of him was fired. —[Detroit Free Press. A QUESTION. “ Time and tide wait for no man,” I’ve a question apropos Of that: I would like to know—- , Don’t they have to wait for a woman?—[Puck. A LONG SIEGE. “I’m ready now," called Mrs. Swizzles, down the balustrade, to her husband, who had been waiting half an hour to start for the theatre. “I’m ready, all but my hat." “Well, tell Maria,” shouted back Mr. Swizzles, as he stretched himself out at full length on the sofa and composed himself for a nap, “tell Maria to wake me at 9 o’clock, anyway.”—[Chicago Record.

HOPE AT LAST. “I told the minister ybu were troubled with insomnia,” said Mrs. Manchester to her husband; “that you were nearly dead from loss of sleep, and he said he’d come and see you.” “Well,” replied Mr. Manchester, with a sigh of relief, “if lie only thinks to bring one of his sermons along, I will get some sleep at last.” —[Pittsburg Chronicle Telegraph. WHAT HE LEARNED. Mother—A\ ell, Georgie, have you learned anything new to-day at ’ school? Georgie—Yep. Mother—What was it, my son ? Georgie—Tom Harper has the measles an’ I’ve been playin’ with him all ttye afternoon.—[Chicago InterOcean. A REGULAR THING. The Hostess (apologetically at luncheon)—This being Friday, Mr. Castlefcon, we don’t have as much as on other days. Castleton—Neither do I, as a rule. The Hostess—Why, do you fast on Friday because you think it right to do so? Castleton (going)—Oh, no. Because I’m broke.—[New York Herald, A SAD TRUISM. Markby—This shall never happen again! Friiend—What? Markby—lt is my fiftieth birthday! ONE OF A LARGE CLASS. “No,” said the young man, in reply to his old tutor’s question, “I haven’t begun my life work yet, but in the future ” “I’m afraid, young man,” said his tutor, severely, ‘‘l’m afraid your excessive and arduous labors in the future will always keep you from doing anything in the present.”—[Chicago Kecord. He—l want to marry a woman who I know knows more than I do. She—Well, if she is wive she will never let you know it.

ACCEPTED. She—You want me to be yout wife? I thought you said you wouldn’t marry the best woman in the world. He—But I’ve changed my mind, and I will if you’ll have me.—[New York Press. HEROIC TREATMENT. Servant —Mrs. Youngwife wants you to send up five gallons of mustard right away. Storekeeper—What is she going to use so much mustard for? Servant—The baby is sick and the doctor ordered a mustard bath for it? —[Puck. CAPABLE. Gallup—Do you think I can safely trust a business secret to Banks? Higbee—l should say so. I lent him $5 nearly a year ago. and he has never breathed a word about it since. —[Tid-Bits. COMFORT FOR HER. Ethel—He kissed me and told me he loved me. Clarissa—Then he must love you, for it is not usual for him to kiss a girl when he tells her he loves her.— [New York Press. THE REASON. Maudie—This dress is made just like the one on the fashion plate, but I do not like it. Marie—The. one on the fashion plate was on a pretty woman, you know. WAITING. There’s a young lawyer in Detroit whose reputation for prompt pay is not the best. A friend called on him the other day to have him go out with him. “I can’t go right now,” he said, ‘‘but if you will wait until I come back, I’m yours.” ‘‘Where are you going?” ‘‘Around to my tailor’s to pay a bill.” The friend began to button up his overcoat. ‘‘Thanks,” he said, “I guess I’ll not wait. I’ve got to get to my place before next summer.”—[Detroit Free Press.

PEREXIALLY LARGE. They had been talking learnedly of the crops, and the varying yield from year to year. “ Well,” said one, “other crops may be poor, or even fail almost entirely, but there is always a good date crop, especially of the American variety.” “ What is the American variety of date, I’d like to know?” “The candidate.” [Pittsburg Chronicle Telegraph. WHAT HE COULD KEEP. “You can never keep anything,” exclaimed a testy wife to her rather overgenerous husband. “Yes, I can, my dear,” he replied softly r “ I can keep still. A YARD WIDE. “One thing about Rev. Hangon’s sermons, he uses the very best material.” “I don’t exactly understand.” “Jerusalem, can’t you notice they never shrink any.”—[Chicago InterOcean. A NEW APPLICATION. Maude —I take everything Charlie says with a grain of salt. Katie —Why, isn’t he truthful? Maude—Yes, but he’s so fresh.— [Detroit Free Press. MRS. YOUNGMA EXPLAINS. Young Son—What is bricks made of? Mrs. Youngma—Bricks are made of clay. “But clay is soft, ma.” ‘ ‘After the clay is shaped, the bricks are baked.” “Oh, yes; I know now. Like your biscuits.”—[.Good News. BAROMETRIC INDICATIONS. Senior Partner—One thing I like about our new clerk is that he is reliable. You can always tell what he is going to do next. Junior Partner—And what is that? Senior Partner—Nothing.—[Truth.

Shanghai.

Shanghai was a very small city in China forty years ago, but now it has become the largest and principal port. The native city is surrounded by walls and has seven gates. The streets and houses inside of the city are very narrow and small. Three settlements—French, English and American —were made some years ago outside of the north gate and on the bank of the Whangpoo River. They are separated by two small creeks and joined by several bridges, the largest of which is the Garden Bridge, so named by a foreign garden aside of the bridge. There are many wide and long streets in these settlements, lined with beautiful shops, both Chinese and foreign. The most beautiful street is called the Nanking Road, but still another runs along the Whangpoo bank, containing most of the great banks and hongs; it is called the Bund. At one end of the Bund is the foreign garden, that permits no Chinaman to enter, but foreigners are alwavs to be seen roaming there. The principal exports are tea and silk. Its population is about mOOO.—[New York Voice.

Anything to Oblige.

During the strike of the officials of the North British Railway a few years ago much difficulty was experienced in finding qualified engine-drivers to maintain the necessary train service. Upon one .occasion a young fellow was put upon a section in Fife. One day he ran some distance past a certain station, and, upon putting back, he went as far the other way. The stationmaster, seeing him preparing for another attempt, to the great amusement of the passengers on the platform, shouted: “Just stay where ye are, Tammas. We’ll shift the station.”—[Yankee Blade. In 1892 808,585 tons of Iron ore were imported into the United States. Over 2,000 tons of snails are annually eaten in Paris.

FOR THE YOUNG FOLKS.

A COASTING SONO. Hurry, scurry! Throuzh the snow, , Bobby's sled and Bobby go. In the storm or pleasant weather, Bobby and his sied together. Blow your fingers, stamp your toes, Don’t let Jack Frost nip your nose! Up the hill, and down again, Lots of fun for little men 1 —[St. Nicholas. LITTLE PEOPLE IN OTHER LANDS. If you were a German child of four years, yon would know how to weed your mother's garden without ever pulling up a flower or a vegetable, and yon would do it, too, for little German boys and girls are taught to work in the fields almost as soon as they can walk. By the time you were twelve years old you would be quite an experienced farmer. If you remained in Germany the law would require you to go to school ten mouths out of every year until you were sixteen years old, but during the vacations and holidays your parents would train you to work out of doors, onlv there would not have to be any force about it for work would have become a habit to you, and yon would enjoy it. A Japanese baby nevee learns how to creep; so if there is any truth in the old adage that you must “creep before you walk,” it is no wonder that they are not very graceful walker*. The poor, tiny tots are taught to begin walking on their hands and the soles of their feet, and when they sit they squat on the soles of the feet, which must be tiresome enough.—[American Agriculturist.

THE LITTLE PEOPLE FROM JAVA. In the great Dream City that stood last summer by the blue waters of Lake Michigan there were as mamy as 50,000 real inhabitants. To the visitor they seemed to be only a part of the scene: but to an inhabitant the visitors were the fleeting show, and he came to know aud to like or dislike his neighbors as their manners or his fancy gave him cause. Near the part of the city where I lived was a district inhabited by the little people from Java. Their streets were so clean, their houses so pretty, and they looked out on the stranger with such cheerful, timid smiles, that they soon won the hearts of their neighbors, and their coffee-house came to be a favorite gathering-place. When I first visited their streets, I inquired of a bright little woman who sat before a tiny loom on the portico of her house whether she spoke English. She replied quickly: “Na, na; no spik Inglis— all spik Chicago nax week”; and theD the little woman went on weaving a sarong, meanwhile singing softly to herself. A sarong is a piece of batik, or cotton cloth, about three feet wide by six feet long. It is used by the Javanese men and women as a kind of skirt, being folded about the hips and tucked in under a belt. But weaving a batik is only a small part of the work of making a sarong. Under another wide portico a patient, skilful woman sat drawing the most beautiful designs on the white cloth. First she made a border exactly like a backgammon board at each end of the cloth; then an inner strip of fantastic pictures of birds flying and spreading their wings; and then a maze of lines that seemed to get all tangled up, yet all came out in a regular figure in the end, just as the riders do at the circus when they all canter out dressed as seventeenth century cavaliers. The pencil with which this design was drawn should not, perhaps, be called a pencil at all—it is very different from the ones St. Nicholas’s artists use; it is a tiny bowl, about as big as an acorn, with a little curved spout, and is fastened on the end of a short bamboo handle. The bowl is filled with hot wax, which the woman keeps melting in a copper vessel over a charcoal fire. Every moment or two she dips the bowl in the vessel of wax, then blows in the spout, and draws a few lines before the wax cools. When the design is complete the cloth is dipped in dyes, and when dry is washed in hot water. Then all the wax lines come off, a white figure wherever they were traced,-for the dye cannot get through the wax. The most fantastic sarongs are made for the dancing-girls of the Royal Theatre of the Sultan of Solo. For them, too, the young Javanese girls embroider velvet bodices with gorgeous figures in colored silks.—[St. Nicholas.

THE DOLLS’ TEA PARTY. It was very bright in the nuraery. One could almost see to read by the moon’s rays coming in through the big windows. But it was midnight, and no one but the dolls were there, and, of course, they could not read. Elizabeth and Marguerite, two wax beauties, lay in their handsome beds. Their young owner had not taken the trouble to undress them, but they reposed under the covers, their eyes closed as peacefully as if they were properly robed for the night. Old Dinah, a battered, black doll in a turban, was stretched, face down, half way under the nursery lounge. Tim, a Chinese boy doll with an Irish name, stood propped up in one corner. Dot, a dainty bisque figure, with fluffy hair and a pink dress, sat in her own highchair. In the doll-house a family of china babies stood or sat or lay just where they had been left at teatiine. “Oh, oh,” sighed poor black Dinah as the cuckoo clock stopped striking twelve. She turned herself slowly over and sat up stiffly. “Hello! Time to have our fun,’’said Tim, stretching himself and walking out from his corner. At this all the dolls in the nursery started up and began to rub their eyes. “What shall we do to-night?” asked Elizabeth, to which Dot replied at once: “Let’s play tea.” The feast consisted of crackers and fruit from the nursery cracker jar and fruit dish, and a pitcher of water. They had a merry time, for each one told a funny story or some pleasant incident which the rest did not know about. “Now, isn’t this nice?” said Dot, with a sigh of delight. “Isn’t it better than a tea table, where your mistress props you up and you have to stay there and cannot say a word? I like night time better) than daytime, anyway, because then there is no one around and we can move and speak. I wonder why. it is against the rule for dolls to do that when people are by?” “I wish it would be night time for a whole year,” said one of the doll-house dolls. “Oh, what’s that?” “What’s what?” cried all the dolls, jumping from the table and .running around wildly. The door handle was rattled and then the door opened, to the dolls’ horror. A white figure, startling in the moonlight, came softly in.' It was the dolls’ mistress. Her feet were bare and her eyes

wide open, but she did not seem to see anything. She walked towards the lounge, stepping on Dinah as she passed. Then she stooped and picked up the doll, lay down with her on the lounge, drew the gray worsted afghan over herself, and did not move again. All the rest of the dolls remained petrified with fright, and when the nurse came in eariy in the mormng, before going to call her she was very much alarmed there. “She must have been playing dolls half the night,” she said, when she saw the table. “Poor lamb! I shan’t wake her until late this morning.” And she went out, carrying the little sleepwalker to her own warm bed again. “Oh, that was a narrow escape,” said Elizabeth and Marguerite in the same breath. “Suppose our mistress had been awake when she came inf We should have been punished, I am sure.” “It was a great scare,” said one of the little dolls. “But we deserved it for playing with what didn’t belong tous. I, for 6ne, will never do it again. ,r “Nor I,” agreed all the rest—[New York World.

SPANISH MATCH BOYS.

The Typical Street Urchins of Madrid. Madrid’s typical street urchin is the match vender. I can best illustrate some of his qualities by the following little anecdote from real life. After Queen Isabella had beenexpelled from Spain, in the latter part of the the throne of that country was offered to Amedeus,the second son of the King of Italy, Victor Emmanuel, and accepted by him. At the head of the Liberal party stood Marshal Prim, the conqueror of Morocco, and as he had practically headed the revolution against the Queen, a number of adherents of the latter decided to remove him. One day Prim was driving in a crowdfed Madrid street, when two men in a close carriage came up alongside oi him and emptied their pistols into his body. Then in the ensuing confusion they drove off unnoticed by the crowd. One person had witnessed the whole performance,a match-vender by the name of Ramon Guispert. With the agility of a monkey he jumped up on the crossbar at the rear of the vehicle and was carried way to the hidingplace of the assassins. When he had assured himself of its location he jumped off and betook himself with the information to the chief of police. However, as was afterwards proved al a special inquiry, a police clerk in the pay of the conspirators warned the latter of their impending arrest, and when a force of constables reached their lair the fugitives had fled. Guispert nevertheless was rewarded with a position in the police department, and distinguished himself by the capture of many dangerous criminals. He died five years ago, after exposing the methods of the terribl* Black Hand Society' in Andalusia. As a rule, Madrid’s little matchvender is ragged, dirty, übiquitous—a perfect little black-eyed imp wb« will not accept a refusal, and whose appealing glances and insinuating whine only the hardest can withstand. In Madrid every grown-up person smokes cigars or cigarettes eighteen' hours out of twenty-Tour; hence th« demand for matches is .constant, and the chico de las cerillas is bound tc make a living if he remains alert. His favorite resort is the Puerta del Sol, the centre of the capital’s whirl, where above the noise of vehicles and* the hum of the passing throng is heard his shrill cry of “Cerillas, Senor* cerillas 1” He carries his wares in a little square box suspended in front of his chest by a strap passed back ol his neck. His stock consists of various kinds of matches, including those of wax in gay'ly, ornamented paper boxes, and the large odoriferous Vesuvians of English importation. His most costly' brand he retails foi about three cents, the cheapest foi one penny. These match-boys are a troublesome set at times, as they are fond of forming into cliques with fierce rivalries, leading often to personal encounters. On such occasions the Spanish boy is unfortunately not satisfied to depend on the weapons nature has given him, but will seize a knife or stone to attack his adversary. His redeeming trait, however, is his intense love for his parents, to whose necessities he will devote his last penny.—[Harper’s Young People.

As to Kissing.

In the old time men and womei> who were mere acquaintances exchanged kisses in public and with a certain amount of ceremony, and ir visitor to whom it was desired to show special civility was always received with a kiss. The mode of salutation has changed greatly with the time. Haste qifd high pressure have contributed (to render the form of greeting as bfig£ as possible. Not only have we giviuL, up the quaint, familiar ways of our' ancestors, but we also parted with much of that elaborate etiquette which in the last century played so large a part in social life. The changed habits of society, the greater mingling of its various grades, have brought a simplicity into the form of intercourse which strikes oddly upon the senses of people accustomed to old-fashioned ceremony. “I always kiss the lady’s hand when I take my leave of the hostess after a party,” said a German lady, a descendant of one of the oldest families in what used to be called Prussia. She was commenting rather severely on the habits and customs of her adopted country. The off-hand manners of girls toward their mothers, and of all young people generally toward all older people, drew forth her reprobation, and kissing is now confined to state ceremonies, and to a few lold-world lovers and gallants who have retained the ways of their great-grandfathers.— [Notes and Queries. The Rev. John A. Burk, of Baltimore, recently received a barrel of oysters from Reedville, Northampton County, Va. Upon opening one of the shells, the two parts of which w’erQ joined as if they held an oyster, a live fish two and one-half inches long fell from the shell and began to wriggle. The fish was put in water and is still alive. There was no oyster in the shell, the fish being the- sole occupant.