Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 May 1894 — Page 4

XEEP YOUR TEMPER! Let the world wag as it will: Keep your temper! Ts you cannot fill the bill. Pass it to the man who will; Keep right on and, better stilt— Keep your temper! Let the world wag as it wills Keep your temper! If you cannot climb a hill, Take a trick, or turn a mill, Keep right on and, better stilt— Keep your temper! You will get there by and by: Keep your temper! Sun and rain will bead the rye; Summer bring the harvest nigh; Heaven, at best, ain’t very high— Keep your temper! —[Atlanta Constitution.

THE TROUT.

“ Scholastique! ” “ Monsieur Sourdat." “ Take the utmost pains in cooking the trout—short boil, parsley, thyme, laurel, oil and onions in full strength.” “Are you not afraid to use all the herbs of St. John, Monsieur?” “No —and above all no vinegar—just a sprinkling of lemon juice. Let the cover be laid at 10.30, and let the dinner be ready at 11 precisely—not at five minutes past 11. Do you hear?”

After having uttered these last injunctions to his cook Judge Sourdat crossed the chief street of Marville with alert steps and gained the Palais de Justice, which was situated back of the Sous Prefecture. Judge Sourdat was about 45 years of age; very active, notwithstanding a tendency to stoutness; square of shoulders; short in stature, with a squeaking voice and a round, close shaven head; eyes gray, clear and hard under bush j’ eyhrows; a mouth closely shut, with thin and irritable lips; browned cheeks, surrounded with whiskers badly trimmed; in fact, one of these mastiff faces of which one says: “He can’t be good every day.” And surely he was not very kind, and he boasted of it A despot, he used all of his little realm in the Palais. Hard as stone toward the guilty, rough with the witnesses, aggressive with the advocates, he was a veritable furnace who fanned himself constanly into a glow. He was feared like the fire, and he was loved very little. However, this man of iron had two vulnerable sides. Firstly, he responded to the pastoral name of Nemorinj which exposed him to ridicule, and secondly he was a gourmand. His gastronomy, which was profound, had become a mania.

Living in this little, narrow, sleepy city on the frontier of the Belgian Ardennes, where the pleasures of the table constituted the only diversion of the easy-goihg burgomasters, the culinary accomplishments of the Judge were cited for ten leagues around. It was said that he ate only fish caught at break of day, because the repose of the night and the absence of emotion rendered the flesh more delicate at that time.

It was he who imagined that to plunge shell fish into boiling milk before cooking them in their ordinary dressing, gave them a richness and a velvety flavor particularly exquisite. On the day that he taught that latest refinement to the priest of St. Victor, the latter could not help blushing, and raising his hands to Heaven he cried: “Too much! This is too much, Judge Sourdat! Surely it is permitted to taste with discretion the good things which divine wisdom has provided, but such gluttony as this borders upon mortal sin, and you will have to render account for it to the good God.”

To the scruples of the excellent priest the Judge responded with a misanthropic laugh. It was one of his malign joys to expose his neighbors to temptation, and this very morning the priest was to breakfast with him, the recorder being the only other guest. Judge Sourdat had received, the evening before, a twopound salmon trout, taken from the beautiful clear water of the rocky Semeis. It was his favorite fish, and had fully occupied the first hours of his morning. He had demonstrated to the cook the superiority of a quick boil to the slow cooking in Geneva or Holland sauoe of the books. The trout must be served cold, and in the seasoning in which it was cooked.

This was with him a principle as well as a dogma, as indispensable as an article of the penal code. He continued to repeat it to himself even after having clothed himself in his robe and taken his seat, though he was turning over the leaves of a document bearing upon an important case now pending. This was a criminal affair, the dramatic details of which contrasted sidgularly with the epicurean speculations which persisted in haunting the cranium of Judge Sourdat. The case was thus: During the previous week, at sunrise, there had been found in a thicket of the forest the body of a game-keeper, who had evidently been assassinated, and then concealed among the brambles of a ditch.' It was supposed that the crime had been committed by some strolling poacher, but up to the present time there had been elicited no precise evidence, and the witnesses examined had only made the mystery deeper. The murder had taken place near the frontier, where charcoal burners were at work. The suspicions of the judge had therefore been directed toward them. The. depositions thus far had revealed that on the night of the murder these people had been absent from their shanty, and- the furnace had remained in the care of a young daughter of the charcoal burner. Nevertheless, Judge Sourdat had given the order to re-examine one of the men, a stolid boy of twenty, who had once had a falling out with the murdered guard; and the judge had also cited the charcoal burner’s daughter to appear before him. Just here the affair commenced to be peculiar. The girl had not responded to the summons. She had evidently hidden, no one knew where. The judge had been obliged to send a conatable to look her up, and he was now awaiting the result of the search. Toward 10 o’clock the door of his

cabinet opened, framing the cocked hat and yellow shoulder belt of the constable. “Eh! well?” grunted the Judge. “Eh! well, Judge. I cannot find the girl. She has disappeared. The charcoal burners pretend utter ignorance.” “Pure acting!" irritably cried Judge Sourdat. “These people are mocking you. You are but a stupid fellow at best. Go.” The Judge consulted his watch. The business was at a standstill; the case could not be called, and he wished to give a glance of oversight to the matter of the dining room before the arrival of his guests. He disrobed himself and hurried home. The pleasant dining room, brightened by the June sunshine, presented a most attractive aspect with its white woodwork; its gray curtains; its high stove of blue faience with its marble top; and its round table covered with a dazzling white linen cloth, upon which were placed three covers, artistically trimmed. The little rolls of white bread rested tenderly upon the bright red napkins. Flanked on the right with a lettuce salad, ornamented with nasturtiums; on the left by a cluster of shell-fish from the Meuse, the trout was extended in a platter engirdled with parsley. Its blue back cut transversely, revealed its rich salmon color, and It held a full-blown rose in its mouth. By its side, a bowl of court-bouillon was just taking a chill, and exaling abroad a fine odor of thyme which rejoiced the nostrils. This spectacle somewhat softened the ill-humor of the Judge, and he was calming, little by little, when the hall door opened violently, and he heard in the vestibule a girl’s voice which cried, “I tell you I wish to speak to the Judge. He expects me.”

At the same time a half-naked arm made the recorder Touchbceuf spin through the open door. He had just arrived, being one of the invited guests. A strange visitor was ushered by him into the dining hall. It was a young girl, almost a child, thin and brown, with uncovered head and with her hair streaming on the wind. Her stockingless feet were thrust into men’s boots; a gray blouse and a skirt of blue cotton formed her sole attire. Her rapid walking had flushed her cheeks; her gentle brown eyes were sparkling under the uncombed tangles of her chestnut hair; her nostrils were dilating and her parted lips trembled. “What does all this racket mean?” growled the Judge, scowling. “It is that little charcoal burner,” responded the recorder Touchbceuf. “She arrived at the Pwlais just after you left, and she has followed me as far as here, in a state of wild excitement, in order that you may take her deposition.” “Eh!” groaned the Judge. “You are in a great hurry, my girl, after keeping me waiting three days. Why did you not come sooner?” “I had my reasons,” she said, casting hungry eyes upon the table. “We can better appreciate your reasons later,” replied the Judge, furious at the interruption. “Meanwhile we can listen to your report.” He drew out his watch. It was a quarter to eleven. “Yes, we have time, Touchbceuf. You will find at your side all that is necessary for writing. We will question her.” The notary seated himself at the writing table with his paper and inkstand, and his pen behind his ear, waiting. The judge, sitting squarely in a square-seated armchair, fixed his clear, hard eyes upon the girl, who remained standing near the stove. “Your name ? ” he demanded. “Meline Sacael.” “Your age, and your residence ? " “Sixteen years. I live with my father, who burns charcoal at the clearing of Onze-Fontaines.” “You swear to tell all the truth ? ” “I came only for that.” “Raise your right hand. You were near your home on the night when the guard Seurrotwas murdered. Relate all that you know.” •‘This is what I know. Our folks had set out to go with the charcoal to Stonay. I watched near the furnace. Toward 8 o’clock, at a moment when the moon was hidden, Manchin, who is a woodcutter of Ire, passed before our lodge. “See me! Am I not watching at an early hour ? ” I cried. “How goes all at your home? All well ? ”

“ ‘No,’ he answered. ‘The mother has a fever and the children are almost dying with hunger. There is not a mouthful of bread in the house and I am trying to kill a rabbit to sell in Marville.’ That is on the other side of Onze-Fontaine. I lost sight of him then, but at daybreak I heard the report of a gun and I was just clearing the ashes to shield the charcoal. Then, immediately after, two men came running toward our lodge. They were disputing. ‘Scoundrel! ’ cried the guard. ‘I arrest you.’ “ ‘Seurrot,’ cried the other, ‘I pray you let me have the rabbit, for they are dying of hunger at my home.”

“ ‘Go to the deuce!’ cried the guard. Then they fell upon each other. I could hear their hard blows plainly. Suddenly the guard cried, ‘Ah!’ and then he fell heavily, “I had hidden behind our lodge, terribly frightened, and Manchin ran away into the great forest, and from that time to this he has not been seen. He is in Belgium, for sure. That is all!” “Hum?” growled the Judge. “Why did you not come to tell this as soon as you received the summons?” “It was none of my business—and I did not wish to speak against Manchin.” “I see! but you seem to have changed your mind this morning. How is that?” “It is because I have heard that they accuse .Guestin.” “And who is this Guestin?” The girl reddened and answered: “He is our neighbor charcoal burner, and he would not harm a fly. Do you not see,” she continued, “that the thought of fastening on him the guilt of another aroused me, I put these great boots on, and 1 have run all the way through the weeds to tell you this. Oh, how I have-run! I did not feel tired. I would have run till tomorrow if it had been necessary, because it is as true as the blue heavens that our Guestin is entirely innocent, gentlemen.’* She spoke with an animation which

’ made her truly beautiful in spite oi her rags. Her rough eloquence had the ring of sincerity, and the terrible Judge felt himself moved by the energy with which the child defended Guestin. “Hallo!" cried he, seeing her suddenly grow pale and stagger. “What’s the matter?” “My head swims. I cannot see.” She changed color and her temples grew moist. The Judge, alarmed, poured out a glass of wine and cried: “Drink this quickly!" He was wholly absorbed and very much moved before this girl who was threatened with illness. He dared not call Scholastique, for fear of disturbing his cooking. He looked hopelessly toward the clerk, who was gnawing his penholder. “It is a swoon,” observed the latter. “Perhaps she needs something to eat." “Are you hungry?” demanded the Judge. She made a sign of assent. “Excuse me,” she said in a feeble voice, “but I have had nothing to eat since yesterday. It is that which makes me dizzy.” Judge Sourdat trembled for the first time m years, while his heart softened as in childhood. He thought of this young girl who had run three leagues in order to save her companion from the clutches of the law —three leagues in a hot sun and fasting! The thought of the last moved his sensibilities more strongly than could anything else. In his confusion he cast a despairing look at the table. The salad and the shellfish seemed too good for any but such as he and his companions. “The duece?” he cried at last heroically. Violently he drew toward him the platter on which lay the trout. After separating a large piece which he put on the plate before her, he made the charecoal-burner sit down. “Eat!” said he imperiously.

He had no need to repeat his command. She ate rapidly, voraciously. In another minute the plate was empty, and Judge Sourdat heroically filled it anew. The scribe Touchbceuf rubbed his eyes. He no longer recognized the Judge. He admired, though not without a sentiment of regret, the robust appetite of the charcoal burner, who devoured the exquisite fish without any more ceremony than if it had been a smoked herring, and he murmured, “What a pity! Such a beautiful dish!”

At that moment the door opened; the third guest, the good priest of St. Vincent, in a new cassock, with his three-cornered hat under his arm, entered the dining-room, and stopped questioningly before the strange spectacle of that little savage seated at the Judge’s table. “Too late, Monsieur le Cure!” growled the Judge. “There is no more trout.” At the same time he related the history of the little charcoal burner. The cure heaved a sigh. He comprehended the grandeur of the sacrifice, but half-mournful, half-smiling, he tapped upon the shoulder of the Judge. “Judge Nemorin Sourdat!” cried he, “you are better than you thought. In truth I tell you that all punishment for your sin of gluttony will be forever remitted because of that trout which we have not eaten.” —[From the French, in Romance.

How an Axe is Made.

On entering the main workshop the first step in the operation which is seen is the formation of the axe-head without the blade. The glowing flat iron bars are withdrawn from the furnace and are taken to a powerful and somewhat complicated machine, which performs upon them four distinct operations, shaping the metal to form the upper and lower parts of the axe, then the eye, and finally doubling the piece over so that the whole can be welded together. Next the iron is put in a powerful natural gas furnace and heated to a white heat. Taken out it goes under a tilt hammer and Is welded in a second. This done, one blow from the “drop” and the poll of the axe is completed and firmly welded. Two crews of men are doing this class of work, and each crew can make 1,500 axes per day. When the axe leaves the drop there is some superfluous metal still adhering to the edges and forming what is technically known as a “fin.” To get rid of the fin the axe is again heated in a furnace and then taken in hand by a sawyer, who trims the ends and edges. The operator has a glass in front of him to protect his eyes from the sparks which fly off by hundreds as the hot metal is pressed against the rapidly revolving saw. The iron part of the axe is now complete. The steel for the blade, after being heated, is cut by machinery and shaped. It is then ready for the welding department. A groove is cut into the edge of the iron, the steel of the blade inserted, and the whole firmly welded by machine hammers. Next comes the operation of tempering. The steel portion of the axe is heating by being Inserted in pots of molten lead, the blade only being immersed. It is then cooled by dipping in water and goes to the hands of the inspector. An axe is subject to rigid tests before it is pronounced perfect. The steel must be of the required temper, the weight of all axes of the same size must be uniform, all must be ground alike, and in various other ways conform to an established stand. The inspector who tests the quality of steel does so by hammering the blade and striking the edge to ascertain whether it be too brittle or not. An ake that breaks during the tests is thrown aside to be made over. Before the material of the axe is in the proper shape It has been heated five times, including the tempering process, and the axe, when completed, has passed through the hands of about forty workmen, each of whom has done something toward perfecting it. After passing inspection the axes go to the grinding department, and from that to the polishers, who finish them upon emery wheels.—[Philadelphia Record.

It is said that those who do not wish of be stout should eschew ths yellow to eggs.

FANCIES OF FASHION.

REAT VARIETY IN THE STYLES FOR THIS SEASON. Heavy White Petticoat* Xo Longer kt Vo<ne—An Outdoor Drew for a Yoons Matron—Walatooit* Are AU the Ba*e— A Pretty Scnrf. Fk*hlon» Foible*. New York oMreepondenoe:

< ETTICOATS of yfrthe sheer printed jjLlylawns are tnepret--4 tiest things imagJ A inable for summer wear. Choose for them any soft collar®* or >ng yon like, I'j*#/ give them plenty fidrJ of ruffles and make *4* them ankle short. \ The heavy white 11 skirt with PamJi burg embroidery 2*o is all gone by. A jqA little lawn skirt made of sheer stuff with a tiny rosecolored stripe through it, has each flounce buttonholed along the edge with rose-col-ored silk,and there are five flounces

set in a little cluster about the edge of the skirt. Skirts of heavier material, such as cambrics and fancy cottons, are also used. An especially pretty one is striped on a white ground with a bright -china" blue, that pretty turquoise shade which washes so well and which in combination with white has a way of looking cleaner than anything else in sight. Scarlet waistcoats are worn with all sorts of colored gowns. A combination accepted by handsome dowagers of fine figure and presence is a stone gray or lead color smooth cloth for skirt and umbrella coat, with high scarlet cashmere waistcoat A pique edge shows above the waistcoat on some very correct dames, and the linen is white, worn with a black tie. A black hat ■is worn with a very low crown and so narrow a lace straw brim that it does not exceed the dimensions of a toque. The brim lifting slightly at the center in front, scooping down either side, rolling back over tne ears and fitting down closely in the back, is set with a bright red flower or bunch of flowers, laid closely either side of the uplift in front At the back of

A JACKET ODDITY.

the hat a wide bow spreads sideways. There is no other trimming. This shape of hat is much worn by women of gray hairs and of the somewhat severe dignity that our stylish elderly matron develops. The dignified lady of this type who wears a fiat with a stiff brim, or with a brim turned back from the face, becomes grenadler-llke at once and really terrifying. Turn to the initial figure, and there is shown an outdoor dress suitable for a young matron. Made of light novelty cloth, its jacket bodice has a fulldraped plastron and collar of old-gold moire, and the skirt is garnished in front with nine rows of lace. The toilet oould also be made of plain cloth, serge, dark-blue cheviot, old red or green suiting with surah, bengaline, or fancy silk in place of the moire. A visiting toilet of gray silk is the artist’s next contribution.’ The shirred yoke is of silver-gray gauze, having three bands of insertion laid against the lining and showing faintly through the gauze. The pleated skirt has a foundation of plain silk, is three yards wide, and is finished around the bottom with a small pleated ruffle. The jacket bodice is oi gray cloth, and has long basques that may be separate and sewed on, or cut in one witfi tfie rest. The vest-like front is pointed, and the edges of the whole bodice are ornamented with a narrow spangle embroidery. The cloth hooks in front, and the yoke at the left shoulder. The sleeves have two caps of plain

A very pretty fashion of making up the dainty striped lawns is a fitted boaice with a yoke outlined by a fall of lawn finished with five rows of narrow black velvet, the yoke itself being covered with hoop rows of the same velvet The skirt is made prettily full, and a flounce a half-yard wide and edged with rows of the narrow velvet is sot as high as the waist line in the back, and dips till its edge is even with the skirt edge in front The effect is as pretty and not as elaborate to manage as an overdress. Such a dress carried out in a lawn, striped witfi a clear sapphire blue and trimmed with black

BEADY FOR SUNSHINE AND ITS WARMTH.

velvet, is worn with a yellow sailor hat bound with white ribbon standing in horizontal loops to each side of the front, and with a great knot of blue bachelor buttons just in front of each loop. These flowers stand high on their stems, which are bound close together. It is quite a trick to bind the stems of short stemmed flowers closely together and so mount a bunch of violets, pansies or forget-me-nots on

high in a round pompon-like bunch. Black violets with green stems are much used in this way, one remembered little flat toque of black leghorn having practically no other trimming. An odd and picturesque hat is shown in the third sketch. It is made of white straw trimmed with white lace and black feathers and accompanies a tasteful and simple dress of navy blue glace foulard dotted with pea-green. A pretty scarf to take the place of the shoulder shawl that used to be a necessary part of a summer outfit is of the most delicate white cashmere, the width of the goods, and finished with a deep insertion of guipure, as heading to a very full flounce of the same lace. This scarf is more graceful than the shawl, gives quite as much protection, and goes prettily over the head and around the throat, crossing and being spread out over the chest, the ends hanging in the back. Guipure is assuredly the reigning lacs for trimmings of all sorts. On the next pictured toilet it is used for the deeply van*

A STAB-SHAPED GUIPURE COLLAR.

dyked yoke collar, which is worn over a bodice of fancy suiting, which is further ornamented by a small figaro made of silk which perfectly matches the suiting. The draped collar and cravat are of maize-colored crepe de chine. At the left side the skirt opens to show a panel garnished at the bottom with throe bands of velvet ribbon of different widths. The bodice hooks at the side, the figaro coming over, and fastening in front beneath the yoke. The hat of mordore straw is trimmed with feathers and primroses. White China silk fancy waists trimmed with laid-on insertions of lace in black are fresh and pretty, and a realiy good lace will wash without hurting its color. There is a movement against veils, and now any girl whose complexion can stand it goes with face bare. There are objections to this; do it in the country and at the sea shore if you like, but not in the city, where the face would be much better protected from dust and grit. Shaker flannel makes very useful and sensible summer dresses. It washes as well as cotton, is light, has enough woolliness about it to make it cozy to wear and is inexpensive. The white broadcloth gown is white only for one or two wearings, and then must be cleansed. White flannel is very pretty, but if you attempt to have it washed it shrinks like a oank account in a hard winter, and cleansing takes a long while and is expensive. Shaker flannel has all the air of a white wool gown, and the girl who wears it is, after all, the only one who needs to know that it is cheap. The men won’t, that’s certain. In the last picture there is displayed a costume of almond green suiting, with a gored skirt trimmed around the bottom with jet galloon. The short bodice fastens at the side and has a yoke of contrasting shade of crepe

A FRENZIED PATTERN OF SKIRT TRIMMING,

banded and edged with jet passementerie and finished by a beaded lace frill The standing collar and belt are black watered ribbon, and the same ribbon may be substituted for the jet, if desired. Waistcoats are all the rage, and the proper coat is the one that shows the most of the waistcoat, and, so doing, all sense of proportion is often lost sight of. Thus the large lady, with generous curve below her waist in front, is just the one who gayly wears a coat that fastens with three buttons just below the bust line, and then is cut away to either hip, that the lower, part of the waistcoat may be seen; though, to tell the truth, the observer does not so much as think of the waistcoat. Don’t do it, any of you, save those distracting and envied creatures who can do anything and look lovely. Three is a small allowance of duck suits this summer, and with four and a ■flannel, serge or hop gown you can face the summer if you have a lot of shirt waists and a vest or so. Use the lightweight duck, cut the bodice in modified blazer fashion, a short-skirted jacket, open and loose in front and fitting behind, with little perky umbrella skirt-back. The skirt itself is plain, round, and fairly full, the sleeves very big glgot, and the jacket turns back in front with wide revers. White ground with pin stripes of light blue or light brown makes the freshest suits. Black pinstripes are good, too, and a stylish combination is dots of red on a drab ground. Wear a red waistcoat with the latter. A lisle silk shirt with a folded sash belt is all right under these little blazers, a frunt will do, or you may be gentlemanly and wear waistcoat, laundrled linen, and correct tie. Plain white should not be attempted except in the heavier duck. These skirts may be worn with shirt waists alone; so, you see, with four such dresses you can make changes enough to prevent your best friend from keeping count. Copyright, ism,

LIKE MARK TWAIN'S NAG.

Servla's Chief Poet Tells of ■ Horse That Could Outrace a Rain-Storm. Nikola Tesla is known to Americans as one of the greatest scientists this age of electricity has produced. But he has stopped long enough in his marvelous investigations of alternating currents to write a sympathetic study of the chief Servian poet of this generation, Zmai lovan lovanovich, for the Century. This writer, so strongly intrenched in the affections of all Servians, was born in Novi Sad (Neusatz), a city at the southern border of Hungary, on November 24, 1888. He comes from an old and noble family,which is related to the Servian royal house. In his earliest childhood he showed a great desire to learn by heart the Servian national songs which were recited to him, and even as a child he began to compose poems. His father, who was a highly cultivated and wealthy gentleman, gave him hfs first education in his native city. After this he went to Budapest, Prague, and Vienna, and in these cities he finished his studies in law. This was the wish of his father, but his own inclinations prompted him to take up the study of medicine. He then returned to his native city, where a prominent official position was offered him, which he accepted, but so strong were his poetical instincts that a year later he abandoned the post to devote himself entirely to literary work.

Zmai has founded several journals which have attained a great national prestige and popularity. Since 1870 he has pursued his profession as a physician, and now lives, honored and beloved, in Belgrade. Tesla has given a literal translation of some of Zmai’s shorter poems, and Mr. Robert Underwood Johnson has put them into metrical form in English. One of these will remind all readers of Mark Twain’s story of the fast horse, as told to him by Oudinot, of the Sandwich Islands, and recorded in The Galaxy for April, 1871. In that veracious narrative it is related that, during a terrible storm, the horse kept in advance of the rain so that not a single drop fell on the driver, but the dog was swimming behind the wagon all the way. As told by Zmai and versified by Mr. Johnson, a gipsy is praising his horse: And now about speed. “Is he fast I should say 1 Just listen—l’ll tell One equinox day, Coming home from Erdout in the usual way, A terrible storm overtook us. ’Twas plain There was nothing to do but to run for it. Rain, Like the blackness of night, gave us chase. But that nag, Though he’d had a hard day, didn’t tremble or sag. Then the lightning would flash, And the thunder would crash With a terrible din. They were eager to catch him; but he would just neigh, Squint back to make sure, and then gallop away. Well, this made the storm the more furious yet, And we raced and we raced, but he wasn’t upset And he wouldn’t give in! At last when we got to the foot of the hill At the end of the trail, By the stream where our white gipsy castle was set, And the boys from the camp came a waving their caps, At a word he stood still. To be hugged by the girls and be praised by the chaps. We had beaten the gale, And Selim was dry as a bone—well, perhaps, Just a little bit damp on the tip of his tail.

TWO STRANGE FISH.

The One Can Fly, and the Other Has a Sword for a Weapon. A strange creature is the flying lish, of which there are two species, one, the dactyl opterus, called the dying gurnard, the other the exocoetus or flying herring. These flying fish are found only in the tropical and subtropical seas. The flying herring is plentiful, but the gurnard is Scarcer. The fish are seen oftener during rough than calm weather, and If pursued by enemies, or frightened by vessels, will dart from the water. The wings are without motion, except a slight vibration as the wind passes over them, and they do not move them as a bird or bat, to guide their course, but their flight is straightforward, and any deviation from this course is caused by the current of air passing over them. Their flight is generally rapid, and longer when flying against than with the wind, and they usually keep close to the water, although during windy weather they have been known to be carried high enough to fall on the decks of vessels. Another queer fish is the sword fish. It is also found in the tropical and subtropical zones of both the eastern and western hemispheres. Some of the tropical species are of enormous size, and measure from twelve to fifteen feet in length, with swords at least three feet long. This sword is much the shape of a cone somewhat flattened, the end sharply pointed. It is smooth on the top and sides, but the under part is rough. It is really an elongation of the bones of the upper jaw, and is possessed of very great strength, for with these weapons they have been known to pierce the copper sheathing of vessels and heavy plates and timbers, but although they can drive the sword far into these substances they cannot draw them out, so break them off and swim away without them; A large fin extends nearly the length of the back of the creature, which is folded back when the fish is swimming, in order that its progress may not be impeded if speed is desired, but when quietly swimming if- is often erected and acts as a sail to carry it through the water. The sword fish is very aggressive in its disposition, and will often assail fish much larger than itself. Even the whale is not exempt from its attacks. The food of the sword fish consists of smaller fish, which it kills by stabbing them with its sword. There is quite a large business done in sword fishing, as the flesh is used for food. The larger species are caught by harpooning, the smaller in nets.—{Detroit Free Press. New Orleans, La., has the first rice elevator ever built.

CIRCUS HORSES.

HOW THEY ARE TAUGHT TO GO AROUND IN THE RING. At First They are Blindfolded--They are Never Punished and Enjoy Ap-plause--Valuable Animals. One of the busiest men connected with a big circus is John O’Brien. It is his duty to train all the horses used for the ring in bareback and high school riding. All winter long in Bridgeport he is at work preparing horses for the summer tour of the show. He was asked how he trained his horses. * ‘The first thing that we have to do when we get new horses is simply to keep them in the stables with the others until they get used to their new company,” he said. “It’s a singular thing, too, how jealous horses are of the newcomers. You may laugh if you want to, but horses really have their ways of what I might call ‘guying’ green stock. ‘ ‘After the horses get used to their surroundings and their stable companions we blindfold them and take them into the ring. While they are blindfolded we train them to the circular motion—that is, we make it appear natural to them to run around the small ring. This requires a good deal of time and patience. It generally takes a month to break a horse to this. The natural tendency of the animal is to go straight, and the going around is unnatural to him. Nowadays we use a system of checks and lines which render the process much easier. “After the horse has been taught to run around we take off the blindfold, and the performer for whom the animal is intended begins to try trickswith him. The horse is naturally very observant, and his natural bent is to do what he sees another horse do; so when we are teaching a horse to do tricks we place him alongside of another who has been trained, to give him confidence, and the two work together. The rider will first try one and then the other. It is a great mistake to think that punishment is resorted to as a method of breaking in circus horses. . Horses that are broken by violent treatment are not to be depended on, and for ring purposes we must have horses so trained that they can be absolutely relied upon. “A good, intelligent animal that has been trained for the ring will, technically speaking, ‘feel’ his rider and accommodate his motions as much as possible to the work that the rider has in hand, Such a horse is the delight of a first-class bareback rider; and, by the way, nearly all of the great riders have their favorite animals.

“It may surprise you to know that the circus horses are as sensible to the applause of the audience as the performers themselves. It is wonderful to contrast what a horse will do under the stimulus of applause with what he will not do when the audience is cold. Horses are likely, however, just the same as performers, to lose their heads when the approval is too stimulating. That is one of the reasons for the several checks and reins that you see circus horses provided with. They are not intended wholly for ornament, as most people suppose. “A well trained ring horse is worth easily SI,OOO. Riders who earn large salaries generally like to own the horses that they ride. They like to give them their personal attention. Generally the riders in a circus who own their own horses make up a pool together for the employment of a firstclass groom. A circus horse needs the most careful attention. Prior to every act his back has to be rubbed with rosin so as to prevent the rider’s feet from slipping. This must be carefully washed off after each performance, or the animal’s back would get sore in a short time.. A first-class groom has to be, in fact, something of a veterinary surgeon. “There are really few accidents to the circus horses when one considers the nature of the work that they have to do. We have horses here that have been in training with us for 10 years. The ring work is not particularly wearing upon them when they once become accustomed to it. It is the traveling around the country that tells on them most; At the same time, they get the best of treatment. The food given them is of first-class quality. “I have trained horses that Mr., Barnum, Mr. Bailey and other owners have valued at over $5,000 simply because of their training. Such a horse must be of good blood. You might think that a horse trained for the ring and kept in it year after year would lose any speed that he might ever have, but we have horses here now that we use in the ring work that could trot a mile in from 2:85 to 2:45.”

Sheep in Australia.

Some idea of the extent of the sheep industry in Australia may be gathered from the fact that in New South Wales alone there are 42,000 sheep runs. The area comprised in these holdings is not far from 190,000,000 acres. This would make the average run of about 4,500 acres. Over eighty per cent, of these holdings are leased from the Colonial Government. All, or nearly all, of the best sheep country in the Australian colonies is now occupied, and any additional increase in the number of sheep which the country can be made to carry must be effected by improvements in the way of irrigation and the character of the herbage.—[New York World.

A Queer Epitaph.

Levi E. Pierson, of Hudson, Mich., has erected a monument for himself and wife in his cemetery lot. On one side it bears the following inscription: “Fellow-pilgrim: Help in trouble, if you get it, comes from nature, humanity, knowledge, here on this earth, nowhere else; think of it. L. R. Pierseon, attorney-at-law. No charges.” On the reverse of the stone is the following: “Levi R. Pierson, Harriet A., his wife. They lived and died happy, and knew just as much about the future as any human being.’’—[New York Tribune.