Democratic Sentinel, Volume 20, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 May 1896 — Page 5

WORTH WINING

CHAPTER XI. What is going on this same Saturday afternoon at Silvermead? Lady Prendergast sits erect in her favorite high-backed chair in the state drawing room. Camilla stands a few feet off, and Cyril Acton is taking leave, hat in hand, after an afternoon call. What had passed between these three is apparently of a momentous and exciting nature, for the two young people seemed flushed and anxious, while Lady Prendergast has a deeper line than usual between her brows, and steadies her voice with difficulty as she says: “No, Mr. Acton, I am not angry —not angry with you at least. l am sorry that you should have taken so much trouble in vain.” “I am very sorry to have failed, of course.” Here he glanced at Camilla, from whose eyes there shot flames of fire as they met Acton’s without a gleam of shame or confusion. They seemed to say—- “ Heed her not, she shall never subdue me.” “I do not wish you," pursued the old lady, “to leave this house with any lingering misapprehensions on your mind. Have I made myself quite clear?” “I—l think so.” “My conclusions are two, not hard to remember, if you separate them from all the discussions we have had to go into. First, then, your request is refused once and for all. Secondly, in consequence of that refusal, as, also on account of the new circumstances in which my grandchild now finds herself, I must beg, nay, I insist, that you meet her no more.” “Yes, Lady Prendergast, there is no danger of my forgetting either of those points.” This Mr. Acton said with unconcealed bitterness. “As for Camilla, I have expressly forbidden her to see you or communicate with you again, and she is bound by every law, human and divine, to show me obedience. For yourself, I know you well enough to feel sure that you will make it a point of honor not to tempt this misguided girl to disobey me. Personally, I need hardly tell you that I am very, very sorry that for a long time at least we shall meet no more.” Lady Prendergast here extended her hand, which he took, and they exchanged a mutual “Good-by ”

“Grandma, I don’t think this bell rings. I will try the one in the hall,” and despite a stern “Camilla!” from her relative, which she affected not to hear, she and Cyril Acton disappeared from the room together. “I dare not walk around with you,” she said, in a hurried whisper. “Oh! how 6liall I ever thank you?” “Lilia, when you know I am more than repaid by-—” “Oh, bless you!” she went on, wringing his hand, her head half turned back lest they should unawares be watched. “Oh, I am ashamed to ask the question, but — you will be there?” “I swear it!” he said, pressing to his lips the little white hand which still held his. And he was gone, while Camilla flew hack to her grandmother. “Camilla,” began the old lady, “I feel convinced that in spite of the awful sin •Which it involves, you have asked Acton to meet you again.” “N—no.” “Camilla,” she said, in a very low and solemn voice, “I have ever found you •truth itself. Still, I sea know that you are keeping something back from me. Child,” she went on, and her voice lost its sternness and became on a sudden so piteous that even Camilla, who loved her not, and who had especially hardened her •heart against her on this occasion, seemed sensibly moved by it. “Child, you know I am miserable; a word from you can set me at rest. What was your object in leaving the room just now? Oh, lam no longer commanding—l entreat.” Camilla may have felt this now, for a slight thrill of emotion ran through her, and she had a certain pity for Lady Prendergast. But she never moved from where she was.

“Why,” she asked herself, “if I am all Jn all to her, would she not listen to Cyril’s prayer? Unbounded Jove means unbounded sacrifice. I will not be deceived by her. She may not know she is speaking falsely, but I know it. She would rather see me dead at her feet, with all her boasted love for me, than bend where I want her to bend. That is loving herself first, not me, as she pretends.” Then aloud: “Grandma, ask me nothing more to-day. I have spoken the truth to you. I will answer or tell you nothing more, either because there is nothing more to tell or because I cannot tell it. Why pain jne by making me repeat this thing again and again?” “Ah!” said her ladyship, between two moods, “in one thing, at least, you are :my very own child! When you do say, i'l won’t,’ there’s an end of it.” It is. easier to surround a fortress than ,to get inside, and poor Lady Prenderjgast thought of this as she sat there today encircling the fair young being with her aged arms, whose heart she knew only too well that she could not enter. “And now, gran’ma, dear,” said the girl, “I feel tired and worn out by all this —this piece of work we have had. I want to be alone. I think I could sleep, for I had a bad night. Please let me go to my room and lie down till dinner time.” And without waiting for formal permission she gave her relative a kiss and fled away to the solitude she yearned for. Perhaps we shall find that Camilla Harding had still more need of a good sound afternoon’s sleep, with a view to the night of this particular day, than was ever shadowed forth in the above exit speech of hers. “Ha!” thought the old lady, as she took refuge from the hard things of life in the pleasant ones of fiction, and resumed the half-finished novel at her side, “what a blessing that Heaven still spares me vigorous eyes! By their help I am independent of all the world. Heigho! though, I wdsh I 1 could find out how to make my little Lilia love me!” CHAPTER XII. The accident to Lady Caulfield had no serious consequence. It was, indeed, alarming; arising as it did in the highly Undignified maneuver on her part of catching a crab, and thus upsetting the very •small boat in which she and Jack Forbes "were. They were no sooner in the water —a fact which, as neither of them could «wim a yard, terrified them beyond measure—than they found themselves, to their intense delight, on land; land, that is, at we bottom of the water—the lake, which

BY JEAN MIDDLEMAS

was for the most part deep, bring fortunately but about three feet six in depth at that particular part. As Horace and Lady Susan reached the brink on one side, Sir Howard and Lord Caulfield did so on tne other; and the only wonder is, how these four well-bred personages managed to keep their risible faculties within any reasonable bounds. There, at some twenty yards from the shore, stood the drowners, who had called so lustily for help, clinging to each other in a fashion which looked like nothing but the most tremendous hugging. A room had been prepared for her ladyship, and when they had got her comfortably to bed, such a quantity of hot grog was poured by different hands down her throat, that besides being horribly scalded about that region and her mouth, the poor lady was made—well —most suspiciously talkative, of course all with the best intentions in the world. Jack Forbes, not being so illustrious an individual, was suffered to content himself with such attentions as he might choose to bestow upon himself, which were almost nil. As to Sir Howard, when he found that the little contretemps was likely to have no serious consequences, he began to look upon it quite as a providential blessing. He insisted upon the Caulfields sending off for such baggage as they might require for a couple of nights, and was uncommonly proud of the dash and generalship exhibited by his beloved nephew under Lady Susan’s eye, and for the deliverance from her awful position of that rich young lady’s mamma. But no sooner had the general good night been given than Horace sought the old butler, and telling him he was certain he should never close an eye all night unless he went out first for a ramble, arranged that one of the back doors should remain unbarred, he being provided with the keys thereof. And what is his errand and whither is he bent? In sooth he knows not. Yet not more surely does the homing pigeon wing its flight to the parent dovecot than a lover instinctively wends his way toward that particular spot of earth where his lady dwells. He was just emerging from a little copse, at not much more than a mile from Silvermead, when even his brave young heart was startled from all its self-pos-session by a loud sound which, of all possible ones, was the last to be expected in that place, and at that time. This was the shrill and prolonged neighing of a horse; there was nothing but deer in Silvermead Park, and Horace, on following the sound and turning a dense corner of the plantation to his right—which shut off the animal from view at the moment he heard it —now beheld, full in the moonlight, and tied by the bridle to a tree, a white-stockinged chestnut hack, which he instantly recognized as a recent purchase of his friend Mr. de Basle. “Wlmt in the name of all that’s conceivable can our worthy M. P. be doing all these miles away, in the middle of the night?” exclaimed Horace under his breath. Then, like a flash of lightning that kills you even while it dispels the darkness, the thought struck him—- “ Acton!” Yes, Acton was the guest of de Basle's still, and now it was doubtless he who, under some specious pretext of riding in another direction, had borrowed the blooded hack, and galloped over to Silvermead.

CHAPTER XIII. Horace’s almost certain suspicion that Cyril Acton was either now at Silvermead House, or lurking in the neighborhood, was destined to receive immediate confirmation. Not two hundred yards from where the horse was tied he saw something shining in the grass. This proved to be a silver shield upon a Russia leather cigar case, and on it was clearly engraved in bold characters, the monogram of C. and A. He flung it down where he had found it and hurried on. Suddenly the great tower clock began to toll forth into the mystic silence, the witching hour of twelve. Exactly as its last stroke ceased to vibrate, the glass doors on the terrace slowly opened, and Camilla, clad in some loose robe of dark material, cautiously came forth. Within three steps of the ground, she stops with the air of one who says, “I’ll go no further, come what may.” This was apparently the preconcerted signal, or at all events Horace felt it to be. The unfortunate boy’s heart now beat to that degree, and his temples throbbed so, that he believed in another moment something must break, give way, or burst, and he must die. To be sure, he little knew what man can bear and live! The sound in his head can be likened only to the beating of a drum. Suddenly, from out a clump of evergreens to the right, and still protected by their deep shade to within three paces from where she stood, the form of a young man rapidly emerged, and lightly bounding with the elasticity of youth and love to where Camilla stood—with eager outstretched arms—he clasped her passionately to his breast. No sooner had Horace Brudenell, struck to the heart by what he saw, realized that his presence at Silvermead was certainly not required than he proceeded to beat a retreat, for he felt sure that it was Cyril Acton who was happy in the arms of that Camilla Harding, whom, in a moment before, Horace had not ceased to worship, even if he had begun to doubt her. “Since,” he told himself, “she was worthless, better a thousand times that I should have found her out. Hence I rejoice infinitely in having obeyed the impulse which took me to Silvermead tonight. But am I any the less wretched on that account? lam not now mourning her as she is, but as I believed her to be. was a delusion, but what of that? Why, to my misfortune, has my goddess proved of clay ? Why, in a word, was it not ordained that this girl should turn out all I so fondly thought her, all that she so completely seemed?” The next day, after church had been duly attended, Sir Howard summoned his nephew to the library, and, having carefully shut the door, delivered himself as follows: “Howard, our guests, the Caulfields, leave us to-morrow, and, as you are aware, proceed to town in a very few days. When lately I laid before you my views concerning a possible marriage between you and the daughter of my old friend and neighbor, you pleaded surprise, and asked for time to consult your feelings and think the matter over.” “Yes, uncle, and I assure you I have done so very carefully.”

“Well, nephew, I suppose yon can only have arrived at one result?” Although Sir Howard said this with much show of confidence, a careful observer could not fail to detect a certain amount of doubt and anxiety both in his manner and tone. These were destined, however, to be speedily set at rest. “Yes, uncle. If you still think that Lady Susan and her parents hold me worthy of so great an honor, I have quite made up my mind to propose to her.” This was explicit at any rate. No opposition on Horace’s part need any further be feared. Yet, now a new discontent arose in the baronet’s mind. Horace spoke like a dutiful nephew, certainly, but yet not the least as a lover. Lady Susan was exactly the sort of statuesque woman whom Sir Howard himself admired, and this utter indifference to her charms in his young kinsman at once bred suspicion and uneasiness in the uncle’s mind. He did not know what to say next, and there was an awkward pause, Horace half suspecting the truth. At last Sir Howard asked: “Do you not greatly admire Lady Susan?” “I do, indeed; she is undeniably handsome.” “I am sure you ought to consider yourself a most fortunate young man.” “And so I do, uncle. Have you any doubt on the subject?” “No, no—only neither at this moment, nor in what I have noticed when you were together, do I detect that—that empressement—those, in short—those symptoms which denote the lover. “I should think not, indeed,” said Horace to himself. Then aloud—- “ Uncle, in the first place we are not a demonstrative family, and then, to be quite frank with you, I doubt if I shall ever be”—and he nearly said “again”— “what is called ‘in love!’ But surely that condition is hardly necessary to constitute a happy marriage. If Ido not yet exactly love Lady Susan, remember how very little I have seen of her, and take into consideration one great point in my favor —I certainly love no one else.” (To be continued.)

Wise Women Marry Late.

The strides which the movement among American women to secure for themselves an independent livelihood has made during the last two or three decades are simply astounding. Nothing can illustrate this better than the following figures, which have reference to the number of women in the United States in each profession in 1890, the figures in parentheses being the corresponding figures for 1870. In 1890 there Were 4,455 female doctors (527); 337 female dentists (24); 240 female lawyers (5); 1,235 female preachers (67'; 180 female engineers and land surveyors (none); 25 female architects (1); 11.000 female painters and sculptors (412); 3,000 female authors (159); 888 female journalists (35); 34,518 female musicians (5,735); 3,949 actresses (092); 034 female theatrical managers (100); 21,185 female shorthand writers (7); 64,048 female clerks, secretaries, etc., (8,106); 27,777 female book-keepers (none). Last year 1,805 women visited the universities, of whom 34 left them as fully trained doctors, and about a dozen respectively as lawyers, preachers and journalists. Of the above 1,805 female students 28.2 per cent, have married. American women, however, do not, as a rule, marry till they have Completed their twentieth year, and of these 1,805 as many as 887 were still under 20 years. Of women who hold diplomas as doctors, between 25 and 30 years, only 32 per cent, marry; of those between 30 and 35 years, the percentage of those who marry has risen to 43.7 per cent.; of 'those between 35 and 40, to 49 per cent.; and of those above 40 years, to 54.5 per cent. From this it becomes evident that women who have frequented universities, at least in America, marry much later than others. It is perhaps a natural result of this circumstance that divorces are virtually a thing unknown among these late marrying women students.—New York Press.

Unc’ Ephraim’s Wisdom.

“Dey aint nuffln’ s’ cheap ez flattery, ner nuffln’ ut's intlnded ter buy so much. “De biggah de millyon crap, de less de* hebben-sent fruit ’ll fetch; ’n’ de mo’ yo’ tells me w’at er ha’d-headed quality niggah I is, de less I t’inks yo b’lieves In dat flatt’rln’ truf. “Es de laffln’ I does inside w’en yo’s er blanishin’ me, yo triflin’ black trash, showed froo my skin, yo wouldn’ t’lnk .yo so pow’ful sly. Unc’ Ephrum knows de truf sum er cabbage, es ’e am too perlite ter call names. “Folks is er heap mo’ afeard ob er man w’at t’inks ’n dey is ob er man wat talks. ’F yo keeps yo’ mouf shet, on’y yo an’ yo’ Makah knows w’at er tawmented fool yo is. “Deconvussashinobsome folks leads me ter b’lieve ut all de Lawd ’ll hev ter mek er hell fo’ dean ’ll be ter chuck ’em in wiv er lot ob deir own sawt. “W’en one bruddah tells me not ter trus’ ’nuddah bruddah, an’ de uddah bruddah wawns me ’ticklar ter be shy ob de fus’-named bruddah, I alius takes bofe dey advice.”

Aluminum in the Army.

“The aluminum vessels now in use in the French army are found to wear very little. They can be heated over gas and coal, and are not attacked by the food and wine, etc., as the food does not remain long in the vessels. Flasks In which ordinary water is kept for months show whitish spots near specks of impurities—lron, carbon, etc., and on the soldered portions if other metals have been admixed. The vessels are made simply by stamping, without soldering, except at the handles. In salt water, corrosion of the motal proceeds more quickly than in fresh water; it becomes black, bpt sulphuric acid carefully applied restores the original brightness.—Popular Science News.

Japs Travel Slowly.

The Japanese are a go-ahead people in almost everything but railway speed. Of all the twenty-three lines in Japan, State, and private, the Tokio-Yokoha-ma has the honor of the best time—an average speed nineteen miles seven-ty-six chains an hour. Next ranks the Ofuna-Yokosuka Road, with an average speed of nineteen miles eighteen chains. According to Paris publications the observations of Alva Clark and Percival Lowell in Arizona have Increased the number of canals visible on Mars from seventy-nine to 183, all in geometrical proportions. The seas under these observations have turned to prairies and the lakes to oases. He Who puts a bad construction upon a good act, reveals bis own wickedness at heart

FOR THE YOUNG FOLKS

TWO MAIDENS. I know a winsome little maid, So fair to see— Her face is like a dainty flower. 8o lovingly She looks upon this world of ours, And all who pass. That sweet content makes beautiful My little lass. I know another maiden well, She might be fair— Her check is like a rose-leaf soft, Like gold her hair. But ah! her face is marred by frowns, Her eyes by tears, For none can please. I dread to think Of coming years. Would you, dear, grow to beauty rare In thought and deed ? Then learn the lesson these two teaoh To those who heed, And in your heart, as life begins, Give this truth place : ’Tis only lovely thoughts can maka A lovely face. —[Gertrude M. Cannon.

A GAY UTTLB PARTY. A gay little party given to some small folks had for its entertainment a handorgan and a monkey, with a handsome young Indian in the costume of his native land as musician. The man knew pretty songs, the monkey funny tricks, and when tired of these the entertainment closed with a dauce around a May-pole twined with ribbous of red, white, und green, the colors of the Italian flag. A package of bon-bons was at the end of each ribbon, one for each little guest. The supper menu consisted of ribbon-tied sandwiches, chocolate and hot lemonade, a salad, and cold tongue, little cakes, and ices. The candles, the cakes, and the flowers were either ted, white, or green. The table decoration consisted of miniature gondolas, black as the real Venetian gondola should be, placed on an immense flower-bordered mirror. The gondolas were tilled with flowers and bon-bons. The happiness of the children reached its climitx when a large monkey of chocolate ice-cream was divided among them. A MESSAGE TO THE GEESE. General Sir Henry Ponsouby, who for so many years was Queen Victoria’s private secretary, was noted for his politeness, and whenever an artist performed at court he always telegraphed the following day to inquire after the performer’s health. If a complete troupe performed at the castle the°g.neral employed a formula, always the same, which included the various members of the company. A short time ago Rogers Prat was sent to court to exhibit his educated geese before Queen Victoria’s grandchildren. The day following the “artist” received the traditional telegram from General Ponsonby, written in the following immutable terms: “Her Gracious Majesty would be delighted to know if the members of your troupe are well, and if they have had an agreeable journey. For my own part I beg you to convoy to them the expression of my esteem.” The geese, says an exchange, were no doubt very much flattered.

EVEN A CAT’s LOVE IS WORTH HAVING. The people of Eureka were quite excited last week by the loss of a little son of Mr. and Mrs. J. J. Scofield. The little fellow, about three yeurß old, was playing about the house Wednesday afternoon, and was seen u few minutes before five o’clock. Shortly after, when his mother went to look for him, he could not be found. A hurried search of the premises did not reveal him, and word was sent to the neighbors to see if he was at any of the near houses. Later a general alarm was sent around the neighborhood and the men turned out to hunt, while a number of ladies went to the residence of the distracted parents. A diligent search was made of the highways and adjoining fields, but without results. During this searoh a pet cat belonging to the boy appeared ut the house and made itself so disagreeable by its continued cries that it was put out of the house. Again it got in und continued its pitiful mewing, and was again put out. This time some of the men happened to be near and saw it disappear into the woods near the house. The suggestion was made that the cat might know where the boy was and it was determined to transfer the search to the woods. Accordingly a line of men was formed, one rod apart, every second man carrying a lantern, and they proceeded systematically through the woods and back again. After passing through the woods a number of times some one caught a glimpse of the cat as it dashed away into the thick part of the woods. This information was conveyed to the searchers, und they changed their line of march, so as to cover that part of the woods toward which the cat appeared to I going. This resulted in finding the lost boy soon after in a dense growth of underbrush, asleep on the ground, with the pet cat nestled down beside him. It was about eleven o’clock when he was found and the place was fully half a mile fiom the house. During the trying ordeal of the search his mother bore the terrible suspense with much fortitude, but when the news was brought that he was found her nerve 3 gave way and she fainted, and for some time it was feared that the shock might cause a serious illness, but she rallied and by the second day was as well as usual. It is needless to add that the cat now occupies the position of honor in that family. FLOSS AND FANNIE. Floss was my property. She was a little white poodle, and Fannie, the Maltese kitten, belonged to Brother Jack. Floss and Fannie were not very good friends, but, as it never occurred to us that dogs and cats could be jealous of euch other, we thought very little about the matter, only, cf eourse, we trained Floss to understand that she must not hurt Fannie, and as for the kitten, she could hardly have hurt Floss if she had tried. One day Jack and I decided to put a fresh coat of paint on the sled, which, unlike the pets mentioned, was our joint property. Mother gave us the paint, and Bridget tied big aprons around our necks, and they both watched us as we started in our work, anil warned us to be very careful about upsetting the paint or getting it on our clothes. Tne sled was an old one that belonged to Brother Will before he went away to college, but it was a regular racer in shape, and we knew that.n nice fresh coat of paint would make it a little beauty. There was a pot of red paint for the border and a lovely shade of blue for the middle. Jack was to do the border and I the rest, and away we went to work, with Floss sitting demurely beside the pails, watching us quietly with her shiny eyes and seeming much interested in the operations. We did not think this quietness on her part would last very long, for she was usually brimming over with mischief, but, strange to say, except for poking her nose into each pail and getting it daubed with red and blue alternately, she was very well behaved and mannerly.

it was not untu'we began uu zing aoom the name for our sled that she showed any very active interest. ‘•Let’s call it Floss," I said, thinking selfishly of my own wishes, but Jack, who was equally selfish, was determined that we should call it Fannie. At the mention of her name Floss got up and wagged her tail eagerly, but when she heard the name of her rival she pricked up her ears and began peering about, as though she resented the kitten's existence. And just then Fannie came running into the shed looking so cute and cunning that for a moment I forgot my selfishness and agreed that we should name it “Fannie.” Floss barked angrily after my decision; but, as I said before, 1 had no idea that dogs were jealous, so I merely told her to keep still and began painting the name iu large red letters. After it was done, we set the sled up carefully against the wall, and, then forgetting all about the pots of paint, ran gayly back to the house to call mother and Bridget to come and look at our handiwork. While we were in the kitchen getting the aprons taken off. Floss came in, and a sorrier sight I never saw, for she was completely covered with red and blue paint, and she slunk along, as though she had a guilty conscience In a minute Jack had thought of his beloved Fannie, and in another tniuute we were all running toward the shed witli terrible forebodings of what had happened. Sure enough, Fannie lay dead upon the woodshed door, anil the overturned pots of paint showed clearly that there had been an exeitiug race if not a battle. Jack was iuconsolable for his pet, and I felt so badly, also, that I almost wished the results had been the other way and that Funnie had been conqueror, but that would have been impossible. Jack could not bear to look at the sled as it was. so before the paint was dry mother showed me how to wash it all oil with ttirpeutiue and repaint it with the name of “Dexter.” 1 do not know how much dogs may know, but I did uot punish Floss very hard for her terrible misdemeanor, for I argued that if she was really jealous she was nearer human than 1 ever imagined. Boys and girls get angry and do terrible things oftentimes, but their mothers only talk to them sadly and wisely, and 1 urn sure that it does far more good than to whip them. 1 tried this way with Floss, and 1 am sure it was by far the best, for Jack has brought home a ucw kitten since, and Floss treats it always with the utmost deference.

A HORSE MART.

Where the Halt, Maimed and Blind Art Swapped. Did you ever attend a real first Tuesday horse swapper convention, and wade around in the mud and listen to the swagger and bluff indulged in by the devotees of the boneyardi 1 Did you never stand around and listen to the hilarious greeting to one another as they ride, drive, lead, drag, aud God only knows how they do get some of the rips into town/ Did you never take a Burvey of the limping, halting cavalcade of four-for-a-peuny stock, of which you can never see one so bad but that anothor is worse, all drawn up on first Tuesday to be swapped/ Then, dear reader, you can tolerate a brief pen picture of a real horse swappers’ convention, where liquid stimulants are required to give gab as well us cheek to the trader. Judgment is uot so much required, as there is hardly a bare possibility of loss in any transaction that may occur. “How’ll you swap/” cries one wouldbe trailer with a limping jade, with both bowlegs anil knock knees, and of such stock the more a man owns the poorer he is. “Might,” is the answer of another trader with a sway-hacked, big-logged shadow that couldn’t chew a lump of mush. “Come this way and swap for the gray marc, just nine years old (none of thorn are older than nine). I want to trade her for a horse.” Anil if such u trade is made, in three minutes the same man is shouting a proposition to trade that horse for a mare or a mule. Whips and spurs are in constant’demaud to keep awake or induce a stir among the stacks of bones that wearily drag about on exhibition, where every apology is made for any defects that may be apparent. The spavin-legged, hobbling skeletou of a horse, it is explained, fell through a bridge a few days previously und slightly injured his limb, but of course will be all right in a day or two. The sweenied shadow is tender-footed if bare aud pricked with a nail if shod, while some better-looking horse, doctored up for the occasion, but which in ull probability is not worth the club it would take to knock him in the head, is represented to be hopelessly altlictcd with every disease that horseflesh is heir to. By such representation the real condition of the horse is adroitly concealed and a “gc back,” as they call it, for cheating is estopped, because the horse was represented to have every conceivable complaint, though his appearance did not indicate it. All sorts of jeers were thrown out with the shouting banters tiiat are heard everywhere, such as, “How’ll you swap that racehorse for a pint of peanuts/” or “How much boot will you give between that stump-sucker and a bee course?” These sallies are given good-humoredly and received in the same spirit. Horses are exchanged for pocket-knives, pistols, watches, sulkies, dogs, anything. Last Tuesday one man exchanged his horse for a cow, and, saddling her up, he mounted and rode around, bautering others for a trade, with as much complaisance as ever. And there is another wonderful feature about the business. Every boneyard trader, when his dozen trades are made and his day’s work finished, returns home at night to brag of what he has made during the day, but the most astute financier would be greatly puzzled to figure out his profits. Any man, it would seem, could discover the loss incident to and growing out of his possessions. But this is a brief account of business on the boneyards of Carrollton on each recurring first Tuesday.

A Boy that Killed a Panther.

M. P. Dunham writes to Recreation from Lyons, Mont., to tell about 12-year-old R. K. Hutchins and his 14-year.old sister Lulu. The two killed a mountain lion on the Madison River at Dunham's Bridge. The sister saw the beast and her dog barked at it. The sister went and got her brother, who took his father’s gun and went after the big cat. He followed it to a pine thicket, into which he went. He found and shot the creature dead. Just then Dunham cftme along and helped get the lion out. Jt was a medium-sized one, 7& feet long, but plenty big enough to break a heifer’s back.

Pickled Tea.

Pickled tea is used in Burmah as a sort of sauer-kraut. The yoking leaves are boiled, poured into pits about six feet deep, lined with plantain leaves and covered with earth, and are kept there for some months. They are then used either to make tea or are eaten after being soaked in oil with garlic or dried fish.

A REMARKABLE HOLD-UP.

A Detective Tells a Story of a Hold-Up Not in the Bills. ’This story I see going the rounds of the newspapers about a gang out west scheming to hold up a train with Vanderbilt, Depew and other rich men on it,” remarked a detective to a Washington Star reporter, “reminds me of one similar that occurred in my bailiwick when I was working in California.” “As to how?" queried the reporter. “A chap out there came to me just as the fellow did in the case of this detective and said he was oue of a gang that was going to hold up a train with a lot of 'Frisco millionaires aboard, but that as I had been a friend to him When he needed it. which was true, or he would have then been wearing stripes, he was going to give the snap away. It looked to me be the chance of my life, and I at once began operations to thwart the robbers. I told the chap to go ahead and help the gang get ready for the train, and that when it was held up they would hear something drop, and that he had better keep in a safe place or it might be him along with the others. The train left ’Frisco one night at 9 o'clock, and I was informed that the hold-up was to take place in a lonesome spot about an hour out of 'Frisco. I had a carload of armed men ready, “As we struck the dangerous place I was pretty nervous and so was everybody else, but we meant business and braced up for whatever work we might have. It came at last with a light on the track, where a man stood swinging a lantern, anil the train pulled up. As it stopped there was a volley of a half dozen shots poured into the train from the woods near the track, which my men responded to on the spot, much to my chagrin, for I had wanted the robbers to board us. where we could have them in good shooting position. My men were green, though, or at least most of them were, and they were so rattled by the volley that they forgot what they were doing and banged away. “Nothing was left then but to give chase, which we did for a few hundred yards through the woods, but they got away in the dark, and we found nothing except as we mine back to the train my friend the informer. Him we found lying in the gutter on top of his lantern, scared half to death. We took him in, and as the train pulled out I explained his part In the affair and the millionaires were so pleased with his heroic conduct in saving them that they mode up a pony purse of .$1,500 and presented it to him on the spot and offered him a railroad job where he might have a chance to lend a new life. “He took the money and the job, and she next time I saw him he was in jail at Sacramento with a bullet hole in him. Before he quit living, however, he told me with a laugh that the holdup was a fake from start to finish, and that his wife did the shooting from the woods with a revolver and ran away as fast as she could. They figured that the rich men would make up some sort of a purse, and if they didn’t got more than a hundred dollars it would have repaid them amply for all their expense and trouble. As for the risk, there wasn't any. i was glad nobody heard the scoundrel tell his story, for it made me mighty sore and I never told it till I had been away from California for five years.”

BIRTH OF A PEARL

When the Oyster is Badly Tickled He Produces a Gem When an oyster feels something tickling his skin he does not— indeed, he obviously cannot—proceed to scratch the spot and apply counter-irritation, as a quadruped or a biped wotdd. The only course left to a mollusk in such a plight is to fence off his enemy with a layer or two of mother-o’-pearl, more sclentlflclally known under the term of “nacre.” In consequence of this many things happen inside 'the shell, among them pretty frequently the birth of a pearl. It should be known, moreover, to start with, that all the shell-bearing mollusks have the power of secreting calcite, which is a form of carbonate of lime, from the outer layer of cells, which forme the cuticle, or skin of their soft, not to say sloppy, bodies. In thi way they build up their shells. The limy secretion which they give off is laid in extremely thin, semitransparent films, and this is just the reason why the “nacre” is so beautifully iridescent, for very thin films have the property of producing what are scientifically known as ‘‘lnterference" effects and breaking ordinary light up into the colors of the spectrum. Now, if some tiny foreign body, such as a grain of sand, a “diatom," or even a minute shrimp or other crustacean happens to find its way inside the mantle border of the oyster, It sets up a good deal of irritation, and in self-de-fence the poor oyster is obliged to cover up the intruder by a layer of “nacre." So around the layer of sand, we will say, the mollusk goes on depositing thin layers of nacre one after the other, like the skins of an onion, until the point of irritation is completely/encysted and a pearl has been formed. This process is carried out. or attempted to be carried out, whatever the intruder may be, so that little fish have been seen incased in pearl within the bivalve’s shell. The Chinese, who never seem to neglect an opportunity to improve upon nature, have long taken advantage of this habit to artificially induce the growth of pearls by filling up the oyster with all kinds of irritating things. Ordinary pear-shaped pearls are excited by means of a tiny H-shaped piece of wire thrust into the mantle border, but it is not uncommon to insert little metallic images of the “great god Budh,” and subsequently obtain a cast of the same in pearl. These are much valued as charms. The finest Oriental pearls are those found within the mantle of the oyster close to the lips of the shell, or in the soft parts near to the hinge.

KEEPING BEES.

Each Hive Brings hi from *5 to $lO a Year if Properly Cared For. “Keep bees if you want to add to your income,” said an old beekeeper. “They are mighity little trouble, anyway, and need attention only during the latter part of May and June, aud women hui give that. In fact, there are a great many women who manage

the bees entirely, and make quite a little money by it Folk that live in suburban towns and have good-sized lots are well situated, and even those who live in the thickest part o t the city can keep them. For years several hives were kept on the roof of the Broome street tabernacle, also on tops of the buildings In Park place, just west of Broadway. “Bees must be placed so that persons will not be continually passing near them, unless a high board fence protects them. In this way a large aptary was kept for several years In a vacant lot next to one of the busiest streets in Chicago. Most bees are harmless enough, unless acting from fright or In defense. If you have an old outbuilding of any kind, put your hives In that, close to the wall, and make a hole through so that the bees can crawl in directly. In this way yon can keep away thieves, both human and brute. “From $5 to $lO a year on each hive Is a fair return. You know, bees never make the honey, they simply gather it. A hive of bees requires about twentyfive pounds of honey to live on through rlie winter, and besides this. It will produce from twenty to fifty pounds, which is the profit. In this locality It is no trouble to get from fifteen to twenty cents a pound. In the small towns of New Jersey It lias sold at eighteen cents a pound during the last two years, and ench hive lias averaged about forty pounds, which made $7.20. Besides this, each hive produced one swarm, which the next year furnished as much honey as the parent hive. “As one progresses In the work he learns to extract honey, which nia-. terially Increases the supply, anil several other professional secrets, so that one can safely count profits at nearer $lO a year than $5. Ten or a dozen hives make a fair working number, from which one can safely count on $75 to SIOO a year profit. In some places one can carry twice or three times that number, and one of the best known beekeepers in this country makes over $2,500 from Ids bees, which he keeps on a town lot about 100 feet square. In the heart of a Michigan town of 5,000.—N0w York Press.

AN ELEPHANT’S CRIME.

He Killa His Keeper and a Child, and Terrorizes a Whole Village. During a recent religious festival at Alvartlrunagarl, on the hanks of the Tamliramini, a terrible tragedy was enacted by an elephant. Dike most large temples, this has Its iierlodtenl festivals, one of which has Just ls*on celebrated. Certain elephants were brought down from Nunguuerl and Tinnevclly for the festivities of the occiisslou. All went smoothly till unfortunately the large elephant of Nunguneri, being limit, ran amuck. The mahout unwittingly took up a little child—son of the Temple Darinakarthu— and placed It In front of him on the neck of the elephant. Alarmed at the stnte of the elephant, the mahout endeavored quietly to puss the child out of danger by handing It to somebody behind. lie was not quick enough to dude the sagacity of the elephant, which snatched up the child, put. It In Ills mouth and began munching It. The mahout, horrified at the sight, Jumped down and tried to extricate the child, which he succeeded in doing, but not before the child was well nigh dead. Indeed, It barely breathed for a few minutes afterward and then expired. Enraged beyond nil bounds, the animal became furious, and In Its mud rage seized the mahout, dashed him to tin* ground, anil then trampled out uny little breath that, might have si 11l remained In Ills body. And here comes it strange and touching Incident Repenting, seemingly, of Ills awful misdeed, (lie elephant gathered up whit t was the moment before his master, proceeded to his (the mahout's) house, and, depositing his mournful burden at. his door, passed on. The people generally In great dread closed their doors anil windows. The elephunt wildly rushed along the streets anil came to the temple, the ilopr of which, too, hail been closed. It thereupon battered the door, and passing Into the lnclosure, furiously attacked the little elephant of Tlnnevelly, which It pierced with Its tusks and soon killed. Emerging thence, the animal rushed madly along to the river close by, where It. began throwing the mud and sand all over itself. In the meantime the police constables hail got their muskets loaded, and, climbing out of danger, took potshots at the furious animal, which they eventually succeeded In disabling and ultimately killing.

The Power of Cannon.

La Nature contains a short note in which the horse-power of a cannon is calculated. An Italian cannon of 100 tons, with a charge of r>so pounds of powder and a shot weighing about 2,000 pounds, will give an Initial velocity of 523 metres per second; the length of time during which the power acts is less than one-hundredth of a second, from which it follows that the horsepower developed is about 17,000,000. The writer adds that after about 100 shots the cannon Is put out of service, and Its totnl active life is only therefore one second. In large modern cannon the horse-pojver runs as high as 24,000,000. If the writer had carried out these calculation still farther, he would have found that, after all, this 24,000,000 liorsc-power does not represent a large amount of energy, as it would be just sufficient to run thirty-one incandescent lamps for only one day.

A Pious Speculation In Footwarmers.

A Portland (Me.) citizen tells The SundayTlmes about a pious speculation in footwarmers, way back iu the thirties. when church-goers depended upon little individual box stoves to keep their toes from freezing. These were about a foot square, the frame of wood, the side of wire netting or castiron perforated, and with a deep, sliding pan, in which were placed about three pints of hot, hardwood coals.or sometimes charcoal. Every family group going to church would carry several of these stoves. Finailly the janitor of the Second parish, a Mr. Leech, undertook to take charge of all the stoves fbr $1 each during the winter. He would bring them to church every Sunday morning full of coals, and place them in the pews where they belonged. As he had fifty or more of the toe-ticklers to care for, he must needs have had a Mg bank of coals to draw upon