Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 9 March 1884 — Page 4

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LIFE AND SOCIETY,

"Women,

Marriage

yv -v husking

and Luxury.

A PAINFUL 8T9R\.

Ht"

"I BT AUCB X. BOBERT8.

Ana he, confused and wild,

y® pleasant olden time,

Oh many years ago,

bees

«T rf8

and singing schools

ere all the fun, you know*

7The singing schooiin TarrytownW ti

old town in Maine—

w*8e*y

taught and grandly led

y°UQK roan named Paine. KsJlant gentleman was Paine, ^ed tl?e lasses well

'i "$ be liked Miss Patience White, j, ^,.4. A8 all his school could tell. I***

5£D's&t

the singing school had met:

•U £)u,n'? Pa'n®- all carelessly, ^Si

':urtied the leaves and said, "We'll sing |K On page one-seventy. V'-'-'-'

,.„" 'See gentle patience smile on pain.'" •On Paine tney all then smilea. But not so gently as they might,

Searched quickly for auother piece, culckly gave it out The merriment, suppressed before, xtoso now into a shout*

t: HT

J1he words that met his eyes sank down with a groan), *^2'6 *or others' woes, Aud patience for my own!" my own!' —Good Cheer.

Household Industrial Schools. MAKING A TRADE OF HOUSEWORK.

Laura Fay S„ in a letter to the New York Post, considers the evils attendant upon the present system of houseykeeping, and adds:

The remedy I offer is this: That housework should be considered as a trade, like dressmaking, horseshoeing, v.:or any other mechanical art that, as v.,J it is a trade, it should be prepared for .,by apprenticeship that this apprenticeship should be without wages, except food, and, perhaps, lodging that establishments for traihing such apprentices should forthwith be started in various parts of New York city, under the management of competent women that the ladies of New York should -yfurnish the means for the enterprise, with the two-fold motive of supplying their homes with skilled domestics, *f '-and also of taking many young girls out of the way of temptations *t^ which, in their comfortless homes '^or exposed manner of life in

workships, etc., often prove too much for them to withstand. Let the ladies

who should organize the charity ele-

fjv?"'vate housework into the dignity of '.\*Y^a trade, at the same time inculcating j£ iJ.^Mits importance and its value into the minds of their young pupils. Let jjf^them extend, if possible, tneir infiu*ence over the girls through the period of their working life. Let them oiler prizes to girls who can bring certifi cates of faithful service during, let us nay three years' time, with one em ployer. Let them make of these ,v schools a

NUCLEUS OF SOCIAL ENJOYMENT for the pupils, and endeavor to find l*" some'means of causing young women to realize that household labor, being -,' the normal field for their exertions, is therefore the most honorable for those who must work with their hands, and ,-BO endeavor to content them with their position. These schools might be classified according to the part of s&the city where they were situated, from those suitable to the Five Points, where only the plainest and simplest kinds of work would be taught, up to (the

-.1

establishment where each girl should be a specialist and receive her iraining accordingly. other point which needs overhaulTflfefe/is the wages question. It is satisfactorily proved, I think, that 1 high wages 9**jiot secure skilled Hervice, but they xk^ secure perpetual unsteadiness. Now,v if employers in

New York would fix upon a tariff of wages based upon the actual amount of work done, irrespective of the wealth of the employer, girls would not be forever leaving good places for the sake of an extra quarter of a dollar per week, as at present. The wageB of a cook who did no laundry I work should not, for example, exceed those of the cook who expended the same amount of time between.

N COOKING AND LAUNDRY WORK. t. We ought, in other words, by some means to come at the actual and not the hypothetical value of time.

The truth is that at the present time the whole domestic system is in such a state of utter confuston, concerning lvalues of every kind, that nothing worse could be imagined. There ought, in every ward, lor example, to be a reference registry office, in which "ewe ry lady giving references, should record them over her '•signature. Then when a servant presented her credentials they could be verified. This would have a tendency, I should suppose, to keep the servants within the neighborhood of their respective offices, and make it better for Housekeepers to look up references. One reason why women do not succeed in establishing rules for their en.ployes as men do is because they do not unite. I take it for grant ed that there is not a masculine trade in New York which has not its fixed tariff of wages for service received.

Decorative Notes.

SPECIALTIES IN FANCY WORK. In its simpler forms crewel work is perhaps the easiest kind of fany work, and yet there is no amusement that gives more Bcope for taste and skill than this fascinating embroidery in silk and wool for when we come to undertake elaborate floral designs the effects that can be obtained render it only inferior to flower painting in water-colors as an imitative art. Its great merit is its adaptability, for there is hardly an ornamental purpose to which it may not beapplied, especially for the decoration of the drawing room, where ell the work we "'V'- can get through is found use for at once. But embroiderers are not Bufficiently ambitious in their work they keep to little fancy articles which are often the most difficult to finish off neatlv, and seem afraid of attempting '," 'anything on a large scale. They are accustomed to fire-screen and mantelpiece borders, and manage them easily but whj do we so seldom seethe tablecloth, which is often the object which first strikes the eye on entering the room, embroidered too

A dark green cloth table cover, with a handsome border of leaves and flow•A ers worked on it, is a great addition to

any

drawing-room, and the cost is just half what we are accustomed to give in the shops. Fine cloth two yards wide cau be bought for $1.50 a yard. All we have to do is to get abroad running .. 1 pattern traced on the cloth, and when that is worked the table cover 5 will only require a suitable edging to make it ready for use. For

working in cloth we must have •sa pattern going all the way round the corner patterns are only suitable for light, materials. Wool is greatly to be -f *. preferred to silk for a large table-

V,1-

cloih for more reasons than one. It is quicker and pleasanter to work, and

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more substantial and durable, it stands out better, and has a more L' striking effect. The kind of pattern, too, that looks best for the purpose is only adapted for working in the soft, fleecy bind of art wools, which are of JiH fiuer texture and more natural tints than others.

When silk is used for working on cloth, a succession of slender leaves of picturesque tints of red and brawn Bhiitild be employed. For this purpo?e the native Indian Tussore embroidery Bilk is best. For working on in* vino or caShmcre, nothing else does so well, for it is as light as a feather, ati has no tendency bo draw the material For embroidery on satin there js no kind of silk so pleaaant topaeas

the Bhiny and beautiful flofloss, in which charming results can be otained.

To make fancy mats or tidies, cut out the required shape in course net obtain a paper pattern of a flower and leaves for wool work, and small piece of canvas not too fine. Lay the pattern on in colored silk or all in gold color, then pull away all the threads of the canvas and leave the worked design on the net. The effect is very pretty, and the work easy. The embroidery is of course done in crossstitch. The net may be edged with delecate lace or white silk fringe. This work is Russian, and small table mats made thus are much used. They are also pretty, made of soft white or colored muslin, or satin.

A very beautiful and extremely delicate design for a royal bine plush table scarf is the clematis flower a very realistic effect ia produced hv forming the flowers with arra«ene, cutting each end and fastening ic in the center with small yellow stitches in floeelle, or if you prefer a tiny gold bead, the latter is quite effective.—American Qaeen.

Mother's Boom.

The dear old room, with its windows open to the west. There we children would stand tiptoe and watch the cloud-ships sailing over phantom seas to a far off fairyland, whither we, too, would some day voyage.

And the sheen of that wonderful sea of purple and gold cast a rosy gleam upon the white walls, played at hide and seek amid the lights and shadows, thrown by the art'st, around Shakespeare and his friends, laughed at the solemn clock on the mantelpiece, and rested like an aureola upon the mother's brown hair.

It was a homely room, for odds and endB of former times had a wonderful knack of collecting there.

Lads and lassies were never banished to the nursery in those days, so the carpet was always faded, oftentimes patched, that the children might romp over it as they pleased. The floor was strewn with armless rag-dolls, wornout balls, blow-guns, bits of twine, blue-back spelling books, and the other worldly possossions of old-fashioned children.

The chairs 1 Well, no such chairs can be found now in upholsterer's shops. There was the capacious armchair, with

itB

worn green lining,

which we dubbed "Sleepy Hollow," and for which there was always a scrabble in father's absence. Mother's favorite seat was a low rocking-chair by the south window, overlooking the beds of violets and heartsease. Splitbottomed chairs, with and without rockers, invited the weary to seek rest. A home-made, chintz-covered lounge sat in the corner, while quaint little stools, gay with patch-work cov ers, tried to hide themselves in even nook. That room was the scene of all the sad and tender incidents of our home-life.

There baby Carry closed her blue eyes to open them no more upon a mother's face. They arrayed her in white, folded her fragile fingers upon the first spring blossoms, and in the night time we caught the rustling of the angel's wings who had come to bear her awav to the bosom of the dear Christ.

It waB there that Mary brought her lover one summer's day, when she found that his heart was her home. The tears gathered in mother's eyes and dropped upon their clasped hands, but she gave them her blessing, and the daughter went off to a distant land.

Little children play around her knees now, but she often writes with a homesick yearning for mother's room.

The autumn sunlight streamed in with a golden glow the evening we heard that Charley, our soldier boy, was killed. Comrades wrote that he died like a brave man, and his praise was on every tongue. But alas! what comfort can fame bring in the rst sharp hours of bereavement "Bring my boy in here," said mother, faint and tearless, and the pallbearers passed by the grand parlor and set their burden down, where she had wept upon his neck at parting.

The home once gay with childish voices is now peopled with ghosts. The garments rustle in dimly lighted halls, their footsteps echo on untrodden stairways, their voices murmur in deserted chambers, and when the evening firelight flickers on the walls they come trooping into mother's room, all wflho are gone, the dead and the living.

The dear old folks see these ghosts for often when I come in at the twilight hour mother will call me Charley, or father will say he thought it was Mary's step upon the threshold.

They, too, will soon be gone. In the fair mansion to which they hasten will there be one room home like and dear, where the erring children will gather and find comfort as they did of yore in mother's room "F. Irene Reese in New Orleans Timesemocrat.

The Subtle Corsage Bouquet.

The'gen tie girl now goes seldom to the theatre without a bouquet on her breast, says aNew York letter. The sentimental suggestion is that posies naturally grow there which is all very pretty as an idea to instill into the susceptible escort, but when the whole bodice isn't big enough to hold ground for a single violet, to say nothing of a half bushel of roses, the probabilities are awfully strained. Secondly, again and moreover, there is to the unreasoning male observer an instinctiveness of life in the floral formation that is extremely fetching. At each placid breath the top of the bouquet slightly wavers to and fro, as though swung by a zephyr when she sighs it quivers in tremulous sympathy her giggles set it shaking with fragrant jollitv, and her laughter puts it into a violent spasm of merriment. The poor ft llow is entranced by these rosy, demonstrations of acute sensibility, while at the Bame time enchanted by her own lady-like composure. If he had any cool sense, or memory of what he learned at school about mechanical movements, he could discern the deceptiveness of that bunch of roses. It is no reflection upon the girl's anatomy to remind him that her slim body would have to contract St. Vitus' dance, or some other nervous disorder, if the flowers'motions were precisely a counterpart of of the heavings of ner bosom. As a matter of fact, she merelv provides the hub—the axis, so to speak—while the stems represent the Bpokes, and the roses are at the rim or periphery. Don't you easily enough comprehend that, under these conditions, she need only take a deep breath, or wiggle slightly, to impart the liveliest motion to the end of the bouquet? Ah! the corsage bouquet is subtle, but quite explainable

Woolen Walking Dresses.

Woolen remains the favorite material for walking costumes as well as for housewear. For the former, poil-de-bison and camelot, both plain and figured, are much used, and, for the latter, chuddah, camel's hair, and cash* mere, trimmed with plain velvet, which also composes the collars and vuffs. Dark-red, goldenbrown, bronze, and blue, are the colors in vogue, and gray in combination with orange and all shades of yellow, is fashionably worn. For neglige and ordinary costumeB, plaids are once more appearing for skirts, the canaquius being of nut-brown or liege cloth. Afternoon calling toilets are made with a round skirt, bordered either with chenille, velvet, er plaitings, the bodice is pointed in front, and the overakirts, which commence at the hips, is gathered at the back and is alwayB of some rich material—embossed velvet, satin damask, plain velvet, or velvet broche with large designs. A sudden fancy has sprung up for epaulets, and they are to be seen in passementerie, in chenille and in lace, with clusters of long falling ribbon.

Fashion Item*.

Seal rings with an elaborately carved crest are much sought after.

Glolrede France. Niphetos, Jack, Mermet and Bennett. The scarf-pin of the hour Is a knot of coiled wire or a gold nugset.

The Pompadour roll, slightly waved la very becoming to small, delicate faces. "Button gold," a bright brass color, is the latest shade of yellow, and comes to us from London.

Band braceletts, set with diamonds shading from darK yellow to white, are fashionably rare.

A11 tulle or gauze ball dresses are worh over white tulle skirts, which give the desired, airy appearance.

Ceinture belts of velvet ribbon are worn and hold a small bunch of natural flowers on the left side.

Fillets oi two or three gold bands are worn with the low, Grecian coiffure, and front hair loosely waved.

Humming birds flying downward are used on a tablier, corsage, for shoulder straps, and in the coiffure.

A rage is predicted for all shades of olive this spring. "Blende Sevres" is a new blue Eveque a true royal purple.

An expensive seal worn on a gentleman's fob chain or ribbon consists of an unpolished emerald with a dull gold setting.

Marabout tips are used as a finish around low-necked dresses, with extra bunches for each shoulder, and to loop the drapery with.

The latest rage In the wry of fancy work Is kaad-knittedSmyrna rugs, which successfully imitate the worn of the eastern looms,

Etrusqu, a wine brown Thuya, lightwood color Fuchine, purplish red .Lanier, black ureen and greyhound, a greyish fawn, are all stylish colors.

Sleeves of ball or reception dresses have an under piece only, which is held In shape by straps of velvet over the arm, caught with Rhine stone buckles.

Pretty calendars are made of birch bark with appropriate scenes painted in the corners to represent the four seasons, and a small calendar pad in the center.

Adjustable trains in black silk are much worn. Two waists accompany such dresses, one with lace sleeves and a square neck, the other suitable for street wear.

Tulle and crepe dresses have two vines of flowers trailing from the right side of the waist to a point low on the left the drapery is held by them in several places.

Black Surah aprons have a yoke-shaped bell with the fullness shirred on, and a finish of Escurial lace with a vine or spray of bright flowers worked across the lower edge.

Short dancing dresses of silver gauze trimmed witn sprays of diamond-frosted flowers and Rhine stone ornaments, are lovelier than one can imagine without seeing them.

HOUSEHOLD SUPERSTITIONS.

Some of the Queer Fancier Entertained by Good People. St. Louis Globe-Democrat.

A favorite superstition in many parts of this country, ia the one concerning new houses that it is unlucky to build a new house, since the coffin of the builder will be the first one carried out at the door. Hence in many parts of the southern states addition will be made to the old houBe as long as practicable rather than resort to building an entirely new structure. The superstition perhaps arose from the fact that so many retired merchants erect fine houses only to die in them as soon as they are finished. This is often the case, but no supernatural reason is needed to account for the occurrence. The merchant has us up to that time been engaged in active pursuits, has never been idle in his life, and as long as his new house is building he has occupation even though he may have retired from business. But when the house is done he has nothing to do and nothing to think of but his ailments and infirmities, consequently thinks of them a great deal, soon loses his courage and dies.

Spilling the salt on the table is a peculiarly bad omen, and, contrary to most of these superstitions, has a definite reason for its own existence. Salt is the emblem of hospitality, 61 friendship, of good fellowship, and when salt is spilled on the table the friendship is supposed to be in danger of being broken. Like other superstitious fancies, a sufficient number of instances of the verification of the illomen haye been found and recorded to inspire popular relief in the reliability of the sign, and it is therefore respccted even more than most others of its kind.

So far as number is concerned, the most numerour class of superstitions is composed of those which cluster around the family candles. The brigin of these probably dates for back in antiqnity, when the world was full of superstitious fancies about light in general and candle light in particular. When we come down to the early days of the Christian church, however, we find that not a few of the ordinances of religion were accompanied by ceremonies borrowed fron paganism, in which lighted dandles played an important part. Candles were lighted at birth to keep off evil spirits, at marriage to prevent the evil eye from affecting the happy, and at death to drive away the demons vs ho were thought to be always on the lookout for the soul of the dying man. Naturally then, as candles played so important apart in the ceremonies of religion, men became accustomed to regard them with some thing of a superstitious eye and to look to them for signs and wonders which were not to be elsewhere found. So a peculiar appearance in the candle, for which no reason could be given, was always regarded as indicative of some remarkable event about to happen. A collection of tallow round the wick is still known as a winding sheet, and is believed to foretell the death of one of the family, while a bright spark is a sign of the future reception of a letter by the person opposite whom the spark is situated, and the waving of the flame without any apparent cause is supposed to demonstrate the presence of a spirit in the room. In addition to these fanciful notions there are some others which are founded on natural fact too well known to admit of dispute, such as the refusal of the candle to light readily, which indicates a state of atmosphere favorable to a coming storm.

In Ireland, where household superstitions, and indeed superstitions of almost every other kind, grow as if by magic, the house leek iB a lucky plant, which, if planted in the thatch, will preserve the inmates from all dangers brought about by unfriendly fairies, while the four-leaved clover is considered certain to give the possessor success in love, and is consequently much sought after on this account.

Making Change.

New York Herald. People who are rushing for trains on "L" roads frequently throw down a cent, grab a ticket, and escape inten tionally or thoughtlessly. The ticket agent loses the money. Cases are known where gold pieces have been used instead of dimes. There are places of amusement in this city where the overplus of money at the ticket window is considerable. One ticket seller never makes less than $4.00 a night on the difference between the tickets sold and the money received from excited persons who do not wait for change and he frequently doubles that sum.

A Cure fop Diphtheria Dr. Murray Gibbes reports, in the London Medical Journal, thirty-seven cases of diphtheria claimed to have been cured by saturating the atmosphere of the room in which the patient was placed with the vapor of eucalyptus globules. The atmosphere must be constantly loaded with steam, and the vapor of the eucalyptus is obtained by pouring boiling water on the dried leaves. To assist nature in throwing off the membrane Dr. Gibbes used a solution of steel and glycerine, with which he brushed the throat when the membrane is loose enough to come away easily.

The occupants of the reading room of the British house of commons on the evening of February 8, were somewhat alarmed by the electric light going out without the least warning. The whole place waft thrown into total darkness, and honorable members are said to have "rushed from the room under the impression that something dreadful was about to happen."

An English invention, by which gas jets may be lighted by an electric battery, contained in a small portable

The favorite rotes for personal wear are |tube, has made its appearance hers.

THE TEREE HAUTE EXPRESS. SUNDAY

STEPHANIE.

BY MBS. ALEXANDER FRA8EB. "How on earth could we love her SH% had caused us such bitter disappointment!" "And how could Gerald care for a pale, strange looking little witch, with her queer name after her French mother? For witch, of course, she must be to have fascinated our fastidious brother to the extent of marrying her."

Gerald was our only brother, twen-ty-six years of age, tall, and svelte and handsome, and the idol of his sisters —two of us—one widowed—and the other, myself, an old maid.

Few sisters are perfectly satisfied, as a rule, when their brother has found some one dearer to him than those who have loved him and administered to his comfort all their lives. Yet I really think we should have been moderately content if his choice had been to our own taste.

Why it had not been 60 was just a mystery. Edith Falconer, whom we had set our hearts on seeing Mrs. Gerald Fane, was a "daughter of the gods," tall and divinely fair, and it puzzled us how his heart or his fancy could have have travelled towards the daughter of a Canadian planter, when our letters were constantly full of Edith's beauty and Edith's goodness, and when we had made a point of dilating on her attractions from morn till eve whenever he was at home.

Edith was with UB when the letter came bidding us welcome his wife, and I saw.the surprise and disappointment legibally written iu her beautiful blue eyes. •,

Not that Edith was really in love with him, but she had always felt an enormous interest in the brother of her dearest friends—an interest which we had fully thought would ripen into love.

And this is what Gerard wrote: "I shall bring her to you, my poor stricken little Stephanie. She would be quite alone in the wide world now if it was not for me! We were married beside the death-bed of her father, and she was scarcely a wife before she was wholly an orphan, with never a relative on earth. I have promised her so much love from you both that she will not, I know, feel the loss of mother and sinter, who were drowned on their way out to America '—while I shall fill the place of all others—father, brother, husband."

Aa we read this we felt convinced how it was that Gerald had married her. It was from sheer pity. We fully decided this point, and it did not make us feel more pleasantly on the subject, for we were sure that poor Gerald had been victimized, sacrificed, &c., &c.

We went about our preparations, however, for their coming furnished the rooms newly and prettily, and did our best to insure comfort to the bride, but it must be confessed our hearts were not in our work.

On the evening they were expected we had no. one at the house, thinking Stephanie would prefer it so. That is, we had only Edith Falconer—but then she was just one of ourselves.

Gerald looked handsomer than ever as he sprang out of the carriage and rushed up the steps, and with a radiant face kissed us both. Then he ran down again and lifted out a tiny figure, which he bore in his arms as if it had been a child, and, placing it before us, said: "Here's my darling!—the sweetest little darling that ever trod the earth!"

He went away then to attend to the luggage, and she made a sort of movement as if to rush after him, but stopped abruptly. Then, with quivering lips, she lifted her glance to us with a helpless, wistful look but presently a softer light crept into her great dark, wild-looking eyes, and she clasped our hands and bent and kissed them.

After this we took her into the drawing-room and ihtroduced her to Edith, and I saw her queer, dark little face brighten up strangely as Edith greeted her affectionately. "Please call me Ste and not Mrs. Fane," she whispered, in a low, brightened voice, "aay heart yearns to be called by that name. Papa loved it so!" and, turning her face away, she sobbed once or twice.

Gerald came in just then, and, shaking hands with Edith, went over to his wife at once. "Come, my bird! You had better let my sisters show you to your room so as you can trim your feathers a little," he said, lovingly stroking back the "soft, fluffy dark hair gently from her forehead. My sister carried her off at once and'of course Gerald followed. He did not seem able to take his eyes off her for a moment. "What a queer little fright she is— she looks like an elf! He must only have married her from pity, I suppose!" I could not help saying. "Not a fright, surely!" Edith answered quickly. "We see her in an unfavorable moment. Her grief has told on her face, but she has glorious

I can

Bee

eyeB,

and

what took Ferald. It is her

winning manner—just like a petted child's. I glanced at Edith admiringly, thinking what an angel of forgiveness she was, and when the bride came down again I took a malicious pleasure in comparing her with-Edith.

Edith, so fair and so lovely, with hair like spun gold, and a wild {rose bloom on her cheeks, and a graceful willowy figure. And 8te—to call her by the curious abbreviation she wish ed—FO small and dusky, with a colorless skin and nothing to recommend her but two immense black eyes, which certainly were as lustrous as twin stars and as soft ae velvet.

Later in the evening, hen dinner was over and Edith had drawn her away to look at Gerald's drawings, he came up and sat down by jne. "Ellen, you must notform an opinion of Ste's attractions now," he whispered, earnestly "she is not herself naturally she is as bright and happy as a bird, and altogether charming. You must help me to chase away her trouble and bring back her smiles. And then, you don't know how pretty my little one is when she smiles," he went on, enthusiastically.

And wondering how she could ever be pretty, I forgot to answer. So after a momentary pause he said: "Edith is more beautiful than ever, I see!" "Ah!" I thought, "he could not help comparing these two—the girl he had heedlessly thrown aside and the girl he had linked himself to for life." •I was not long before Ste "was more like herself," as Gerald said. Her sorrow had been so wild and so passionate that naturally it soon wore itself out. The color came back to her dark cheeks, additional lustre to her eyes, and I could often hear her carolling snatches of songs.

They were mostly French ones— some with a wonderful pathos ringing through them and the pronunciation of her maternal tongue was the prettiest thing imaginable. Yes, she was growing merry enongb.

Gerald's love was so perfect, and he filled the place of father, brother and husband BO entirely, as he had said, that he left her nothing to wish for.

My sister was growing very fond of her, and declared her to be remarkably pretty, but I could see no beauty in her, neither could I love her—my devotion to Edith utterly precluded it.

Ste grew to be popular with Gerald's men friends too. They thought her charming, and his especial^ friend, a voung fellow who was rapidly rising In his profession, and who had been an admirer of Edith's, came more frequently than the rest.

Before Gerald's marriage Dr. Percival had made small progress in his wooing, but since, Edith had seemed more favorably inclined towards him,

He was passionately fond of singing and had a superb voice, Edith coula

not sing a note, but Ste's and Marie Percivsil's voices blended splendidly together. Thus hours were spent, every hour, I thought, that he could spare from his practice, in these duets.

And Gerald, who was also fanatico per la musica, never seemed to tire of listening to the two.

I "was very wicked, I know. I really believed Ste to be artful and designing: her childlike, blithe manner I fancied was assumed. I saw how happy she was in the hours Bpent in Mark Percival's society, and it made me lislike her ten times more for finding pleasure anywhere but in her hosbana. 1 consoled myself with believing that she was trying to bewitch poor Edith's lover, as she had bewitched my brother, and listened indignantly when she said in her pretty, childish fashion: "I wish Edith and Dr. Percivel would come it's getting quite late and they are not here yet, and I miss them so! Isn't Dr. Percival handsome and accomplished, Ger?"

I don't think a doubt of her ever entered his mind until I put it ihere. I began with a look, or a little word opportunely dropped.

Then I rushed into the thing suddenly, and shall never forget the expression of pain on his face when I said: "nark Pervical admires Ste very much, Gerald. How well their voices suit! I think if he had chanced io meet her before her marriage you would have had a very formidable rival

He did not answer he grew dreadfully white and, biting his lips, turned away.

But I had not done. There was an excuse for me, for I loved my brother with au my heart, and I was jealous for him. "Hasn't Ste a wonderful poweiful voice for such a little creature "That is a loyely thing she is singing now. It is Beethoven's 'Adelaide, isn't it?" he answered quietly. "Yes her favorite song, or rather Mark Percival's, which is about the same!"

He looked at me sternly for the first time in his life, and then said: "You have never really loved any one, Ellen. But be careful that you don't plant thorns that may prick you more than any one else."

His words were prophetic. How deeply I repented my wickedness no one knows. Yet at this time I hated Ste for being the cause of the first rebuke that Gerald had given me, and in Edith's ear I put a word now and then that soon built up a wall of ice between her and my brother's wife.

Gerald grew silent and even a little morose. And Ste felt it, and was hurt that he did not tell her the cause of his change. She became reserved, crushing back her loving impulses .9nd as Mark Percival's visits had suddenly grown less frequent, Gerald thought Ste was grieving over this. Gerald, who was not a rich man, and an artist by profession, worked by night aB well as by day—worked to keep himself from thinking. And so some months went by. He was looking miserable, at last, and Ste, declaring he was really ill, begged him to take a rest. Her anxiety chasing away hcr_ latter reserve, she insisted on his seeing a physician, but he steadily refused. She begged then that she might send for Mark Percival.

When she said that I looked at Gerald—a look that spoke volumes. She just wanted an excuse to have him again near her, I thought, and :ny glance, told that and more.

Then there came into Gerald's blue eyes an expression that defied my understanding. I could not tell if it was a defiance of me or a curious sort of resignation to tell the will of a woman whom he worshipped with all his soul. "Yes," he said, languidly, "send for Percival, if it will relieve your mind."

The next day Mark Percival came, and for a

lODg

MORNING,

while he and Gerald

were closeted together, while Ste and my sister and myself were told not to go near the room, but When Mark Percival came out into the hall Ste spied him from the lawn, and in a moment she was by his side, speaking intently—so intently that she never sa-v my eyes watching from a bow windo.w in the morning room that jutted out, aiving a view of the rest of the building.

By and by they went down the steps, side by side, into the garden, and I heard him say, in rather a low voice: "He must stop work and rest a little, Mrs. Fane. He complains of a pricking sensation in his right side and shoulder. I do notj like that. It is rather unfavorable. Still, with our united care, and with rest, I think we shall bring him round."

A nd Ste answered with a smile, could not see that, and believe that she was young and sanguine, and that she never realized her husband's danger. And conld I give her credit for this when I suspected her—suspected as foully as I could—that it was jpot Gerald whom she loved, but—Mark Percival.

Gerald was resolved to work on in spite of everything. We were not rich, he said, and work was necessary then for several weeks. Ste, instead of passing the hours in his studio, as she used to do, would remain in her own room, with her door locked— sulkiDg, I told her sister.

At last one day a blow fell on us all —a dreadful blow and harder to me since I believed I had helped to bring it—that perhaps I was really the instrument that had dealt it. Had I not made my brother unhappy? Perhaps he would not have worked so incessantly in the vain hope of banishing thought.

Ste found him one bright summer's day apparently lifeless beBide his easel, and for weeks be lingered, hovering as it were, between us and eternity.

And his wife, remorseful of her ireachery and want of faith, seemed to have no thought but him. She never left him for a moment, and if she slept it was by snatches only, with her head against his pillow, when the slightest movement would awaken her.

After what seemed an age of anxiety to us, the doctor said he would live, but never more to work for Gerald's right arm was paralyzed. I had beeB growing less bitter in my feelings toward Ste during my brother's illness—she seemed to be really so devoted to him. But when they said he was not to work any more with his brush a look of triumph came into her eyes which puzzled me, and again I began to doubt her, and the doubt grew stronger when I saw her meet Mark Perrival in the porch, and stand for many a_minute in earnest whispered conversation. Once —from behind a Laurentinus bush saw her place her hand on his arm and look up into his face, her great, wild, dark eves full of glittering tears, while she said, with quivering lips: "How much longer? Oh! these lost weeks have been centuries to me. And if—oh, if you have not been deceiving me—I may hope" "Everything," he answered, interrupting her, and taking the mite of a hand in his. "I tell you that you have not many more days to wait, and then we shall both be very happy."

Upon this Ste smiled up into his handsome eyes with a strange, wistful, yearning look that drove me almost wild with the bitterest anger and suspicion. Now I dare not even look back to the horrible feeling that filled my heart with regard to the woman whom my brother had made his wife, and in whom he had placed his happiness, his infinite faith, and, more than all. his honor.

But Gerald was in a weak and critical state, and I did not dare to warn him of what I feared. He was very loving and tender to her, and I could see his eyes follow her slight figure wherever she moved with an expression of mingled affection and doubt that was

Bad

to look upon.

When one day she heard Mark Percival's voice at the door, she darted out of the room to meet him, forgetful of a mass of roses on her lap with which she was making a bouquet, and heedless of the lovely fragfle flowers in haste and evident agitation, she trod out their beauty with her feet

Then I heard Gerald murmur to himself, "Poor little one] She is BO

MARCH 9,1884.

young! I hoped to make her happy, but I am so grave and quiet that she cannot love me. God give me strength to bear it"

I told my Bister of this, but she would hardly listen. Ste had bewitched her and she declared that my brother's wife was a thoughtless child, but nothing worse.

The death of the summer bad come and autumn brought its wailing wind, and the leaves died in company with the long, bright days, wrapped in splendid cerements of rainbow hues. And Gerald grew no better.

The truth was, that he did not care to live. Ste was in a state of feverish excitement, which seemed to grow worse each hour. One day I felt the

crisiB

was near. Her cheeks burnt with two red spot* her eyes had a wilder look, and I knew^hat her ear wasetrained to catch every sound of coming footsteps.

At last she heard the welcome sound of Mark Percival's langb. He had not been near us for a whole week, and, regardless of us, she flew down the stairs to him.

I heard him exclaim: "Hurrah it's all right" And her answer was "God bless you! how good you are." In another moment or two she ran upstairs again and I followed her but if she was aware of my supervision, she did not care.

Gerald was reclining in an easy chair his face was ashy pale and he looked a shadow of his old self but still his face was beautiful in its classi cal features, and its large, deep blue eyes, over which a fond look always crept when his wife came near,

Ste threw herself on her knees before him, and, catching bis thin, white hand, she kissed it passionately. "At last I can tell you," she grasped between tears and smileB "vou will doubt me no longer, Ger, and forgive me for having had a secret from you I d*red not tell, I was so fearful of a failure. See, Ger, darling, there is no need for you to paint any more I shall work for you, for us all. Oh! Ger! won't it be a labor of love?"

And she held before him a letter from one of the best firms of publishers in London.

He looked at it, then at her, as if just awaking from a strange, wild dream. Before he could speak, however, she dived into her pocket and drew out a roll of bank notes and thrust them into his hand. "This is yours, Ger, all yours I am all yours, am I not? And I shall have more, much more, I hope oh, do speak to me, Ger, say one little word, please?"

Gerald drew her to him with all the strength left to him and kissed her fondly oh, the radiant joy that beamed oyer hiB poor wan face as he murmured: "Thank God, thank God, you are all my own, my Ste.

I stole away then. I wanted to hide myself from their

Bight.

How dread

fully I had wronged her. Could Bhe ever forgive me Well, I did the most sensible thing I could. I made a clean breast of everything and Ste forgave me fully and freely, with her slender arms around my neck, and in her great black eyes an honest affection, and she laughed in her own elfish, merry fashion, and said: "So you thought I could look at any one else in the world, when I had Ger, my own, own Ger, to look at and love, with all my might and main

Gerald is quite resigned to the will of Heaven now. True he cannot put his thoughts on canvas, but he tells them to Ste, and she, in her charming manner, weaves them into romances that win her fame and give us luxuries in our home that we never had before.

How much she gives us, does little Ste, and the best giftof all is her love— it is so true, so unselfish.

She has given us something else, too, to brighten the old house. It is a tiny boy, with tiny curls and large, serious blue eyes, like Gerald's, and the sweetest smile like his mother. They have christened him Raymond, after Ste's father, but he is a snatch of sunshine to us all, so we call him "Ray."

My life ia devoted to him. I love him. with a love devoid of selfishness —a love purified by experience and suffering and remorse.—[ Tinsley's Magazine.

A Stage Dilemma. & -5

New York World. Odd things will sometimes happen on the first night of a new play. As a matter of fact they generally do hap pen, and occasionally an unforeseen accident of trivial importance under other circumstances will kill a theatri cal production outright. Belasco, the dramatist, was telling me a few evenings back of a narrow escape he had with the first performance of his "La Belle Russe," in California. In the the most thrilling scene of the play, where the villainess and the hero have their strongest scene together, Miss Jeffreys-Lewis and Mr. Osmond Tearle'were alone upon thestage. Mr. Tearle was sitting down with folded arms and Miss Lewis was standing, just on the point of delivering her longest and heaviest speech. At the very instant of beginning she felt something give way about her waist, and a garment, which the editor would not allow me to mention, slid slowly down towards the floor. Miss Lewis had sufficient presence of mind to disentangle herself, and she succeeded, without discovery, in pushing the garment back by the end of the sofa, where it could not be seen by the audience. Then she went on with her speech. Just atter this point in the play Mr. Tearle bad to draw his handkerchief from the breast pocket of his coat. It so happened that the hankerchief on this particular night was in his hip pocket, and in transferring it to his coat the article slipped from his hand. Reaching down without looking he caught hold of the abandoned portion of Miss Lewis's wardrobe, and that lady was horrified to Bee him raise it slowly toward his breast. He had it nearlv up when the eye fell upon the frill which adorned it, and he let go with great precipitation. Jtr.-'Tearle played the scene through Without any hankerchief that ^ijight, and luckily no one in the_andlence had observed his piSsttrpt "to pick it up. La Belle Russe" had a very close shave that night

Onr Girls in London.

Olive Logan's Letter. Every day Miss Lotta is seen walking in the streets or in the park with a handsome young man, whom some say is her brother, back from school in Germany, and others declare to be her fiance, Mr. Rayne. The first time I see the arch little actress I shall assault her with my Toledo pen and ask her to tell me instantly which it is. Minnie Palmer drives every day in a park

fhseton

with Air, Rogers, her manager, have accepted an invitation to luncheon with them at Morley's hotel next Thursday and expected to heai "no end" of musical and dramatic news. Minnie's financial success is so great that she is hungering and thirsting for a higher artistic standing and, I hear, is going to revive those old "Two Orphans" for the purpose of showing John Bnll and his iBland how well she can play the blind girl. The

worshippers at the Brompton Oratory are in a great state of disgust at the way the heretic public crowds to the services at their place of worship for the palpable purpose of staring at Mary Anderson. There seems to be no way out except to celebrate masses for the beauteous Mary by herself.

A jury at Rondout, N. Y., being unable to agree, an aged member suggested that they hold a prayer meeting. The proposition was agreed to, and at the conclusion of the services a ballot was taken resulting in a verdict.

Lillie Devereux Blake has carried her woman's rights ideas so tar as to write a love story in which the girl proiosee to the man and marries him.

A CHARMING PICTURE.

How a French Painter Makes Artistic Portraits at Pretty Girls. Lucy Hooper's Letter.

I paid a visit the other day to the studio of Jnles Lefebvre, which, like the parlor of the spider in the wellknown poem, "is up a winding stair," and the courteous owner thereof carries out the likeness still further by having "many pretty things to show you when you're there." The accomplishd painter of La Vebirte, and Chloe, and the Dream is one of those artists who do not care for a show studio, but whose studio is literally an "atelier"—a working place. He was busied when I entered upon a redaction of his charming Psyche, now the property of Mrs. Matthew Baird, of Philadelphia, the small copy being intended for the engraver. But the picture that I had come expressly to see wa3 the portrait of a young New York lady—Miss Wilson, the sister of Mrs. Ogden Goelet. It is impossible to imagine a more exquisite representation of the charm and freshness of youthful maidenhood. The dainty little head,revealed againsta back-ground of cream-tinted whiteness, has the delicate charm c-f the first rosebud of May. The lovely shoulders and arms are set off in their rose-tinged and rounded outlines by the vaporous draperies of a dress in dead white transparent gauze, the slender

handB

reposing with interlaced fingeis on the vonng lady's lap. Thus Lefebvre has set fo himself that always difficult task of blending together three hues of white—the rosy white of the flesh, the snow white .of the dress, and the creamy white of the background—and he has accomplished it with consummate ski 1 and admirable effect. A mass of pale blue and pink flowers behind the white marble bench 011 which the young girl is seated blend their tints with the soft, cream-hued cloudiness of the background. The picture is a vision of youth and springtime—aerial, delicate and inexpressibly charming. Lefebvre is also at work on another portrait—that of Miss Lawrence, of New York. He told me that for Miss Wilson's portrait he had himself chosen the dress he had gone to the establishment of Mme. Doucet, selected the material and had superintended the arrangement of the diaphanous foldi that lend

vBO

aerial

an effect to his picture. Then he drew aside a curtain and revealed to me the unfinished picture at which

A SOUTHERN FIEND.

History of a Professional Child-Stealer —In Jail at Last. Jackson (Miss.) Correspondence Philadelphia Times.

There is in the county jail of Neshoba county a man with a terrible history. Six months ago he appeared in that county and attracted attention from his solitary habits. He only seemed to court the society of little boys, several of whom told strange stories about him. One night the house of a farmer who was absent from home was entered and a fiendish outrage committed upon a lady who was there. In the darkness he escaped undetecetd. Search was made by the infuriated inhabitants for the wretch, when the recluse exhibited greater signs of fear than were ever noticed before. He was arrested, brought before the injured woman and from his voice she declared him to be the man. On the way to jail the sheriff's posse meta party of Alabama emigrants,one of. whom, looking at the prisoner, exclaimed: "Hello, Ogletree, how came you here?" The prisoner hung his head and denied that his name was Ogletree, but the whole Alabama party united in declaring his identity with the famous boy-Btealer who for six weeks kept the borders of Georgia and Alabama in a ferment over his deeds.

He was first heard of in Atlanta, where he induced a newsboy named1 Tiltoli to go with him. Once out of the city ho cut off the boy's ears, for the purpose, he said, of identifying him in a crowd. After inflicting on the boy unhtard-of cruelties, a party of men got on his trail in Paulding county, when he took to woods and escaped. He was next heard from in Harrison county, Ga., where he approached the farm house of Mr. Buchanan, coaxed away two children and kept them tied out in the woods for several days, visiting them when it suited his pleasure. He joined in* several of the searching parties for the purpose of misleading them as to their location, and finally, when he saw they were iu the neighborhood of where the children 'ere, took an abrupt departure. «|his time the county was getting «?ed up.

He was next heard from near the junction of the state lines of Alabama, Georgia and Tennessee, where he coaxed off a nine-year old boy named Joe Allen, white. He was no more than a day out when detectives and relatives located the coarse and, striking out in pursuit, followed up one of the most difficult trails ever before undertaken. From the Tennessee line down the Georgia line to Newman, nearly three hundred miles, through forest, over mountains and across rivers, the chase was kept up, the criminal being BometimeB almost caught up with, and then slipping the officers, was lost sight of for a day or two.

About three weeks from the date of the first alarm a wild-looking man was seen approaching a farm hoose in Coweta county. Tieiug a little boy, by whom he was accompanied, to a tree, he went up to the house and asked for food. While standing on the door step a pursuing party was observed coming in hot chase. With a dart Ogletree started across the field alone. The pursuers grad to rescue the boy, who was nearly dead with fright, lingered with him, Ogletree meanwhile escaping, Bince which time he has not been heard from nntil the present. His trial for his present offense will come off on the 12th of March, and in the possibility of his acquittal he will be held under requisitions from Gov. O'Neal, oi Alabama, and Gov. McDaniel, of Georgia, so that he bids fair to become an interstate subject of interest.

Prison Regulations^

At the recent conference of prison officials in New York the following remarks were made: •Dr Byers of the Ohio reformatory said it was not a good practice to allow prisoners to decorate their cells. It gave them property to trade, and trading was hurtfnl. He wonld have them

ing' receive from their friends lettera and photographs only. Reading magazines, and attending Sunday school, and an occasional entertainment should be prisoner's recreations.

pru

Col. Carter, warden of the Jfissouri nitentiary,

said that he permitted in |he service,

prisoners to have any small musical instrument, such as a mouth organ or music box.

Warden Bond of the Michigan penitentiary said he encouraged nia prisoners to decorate their cells, and permitted them to subscribe to two ne wars. arden Salter of the penitentiary at Chester, Illinois, said that the men under his charge who had decorated cells were better behaved than those who had not He allowed the inmates to play backgammon and other games in the prison library. They gave occasionally a minstrel performance.

Warden Brush of Sing Sing prison said that on the 4th of July he give3 his men a swim in the Hudson and two cigars each. On winter holidays they had entertainments.

Warden Brush also said that a prisoner in Sing Sing, by working extra hours, would be enabled to save for himself $150 to $500 a year.

Warden Dodge, of the New Hampshire state prison, said that the Prison association of his state tried to find work for discharged prisoners, and, when necessary, gave them tools.

is at work for the salon. It is a representation ot "Morning," a female picture, nude, save for a floating drapery of white transparent gauze—that is rising in the air out of the mists that are curling upward at her feet from pool studded with water-lilies. A number of little zephers, small Cupid like elves, hover around her, and one audacious little fellow is trying to imprint a kiss upon her throat. She bends away from him, laughing, and the curve thus imparted to the figure is exceedingly graceful. The back ground is the golden and rose-tinted atmosphere of early sunrise. This most beautiful and poetical work is destined to a noted art collector of New York, who ordered it as a pendant for a picture he already possessed, namely, Bouguereau's "Dawn," a female figure drinking from the chalice of a flower. It was ordered some two years ago, but Lefebvre is a very slow and conscientious worker, and he would not attempt to execute the picture till he was fully satisfied with his selection of a subject, and with the result of his preliminary studies for it.

Mr. Adams said that discharged prisoners should be sent to their homes, if they had any, and their money should be forwarded to them. Local committees ought to be appointed to look after them until they found employment

STALE CANDIES.

Some That May Be Melted Over and Some That Are a Dead Loss. New York Sun.

"What do we do with stale candies?" repeated the confectioner as he gave a last fold to a package of the best French mixed and deftly wound it with red string. "That depends upon what kind of candies are stale. Some kinds are a dead loss, while others may be melted up and made over again." "What kind of candies are a dead loss when they become stale "3 "The finer varceties, such as cream dates, most fresh fruit candies, the choice French mixed, fine gum-drops and chocolate creams. Marshmallow drops get as hard as rocks after a short time. The IOBS IS considerable, because the candies are expensive. The common candies are easily made over." "Why do you not sell the stale can dies at a cheaper price "I presume that is done by some confectioners, but it is very bad policy. Candies stand onthrirown merits, and thereis no class of consumers so critical as the people who buy and eat fine candies. I will gus: ntee that there are hundreds of young ladies who will tell at thefirBt taste whether a candy is older than it sho' id be, even by a day, or if there is uay imperfection in it. The harm that comes of selling two boxes of poor candies in succession to a customer is greater than the good that comes of selling a dozen boxes of thechoisest. You may lose the customer." "But if a person buys stale candies as stale candies it ought not to do you any injury." "You don't go far enough into the matter," said the confectioner smiling "A young man comes in to buy a box of candies for his sweetheart The good candies cost, say, $1 a pound, and alongside of them ate the stale ones marked thirty cents a pound* They look alike and it is near the end of the week. The young man buys a pound of the stale candies and takes them to the girl. She eats one and cries out, "What horrid things! Where did you buy them?" The young -man basely mentions the confectioner's name, and there, you see, the trouble takes definite form. I could give you many other instances where the sale of stale candies would be hurtful." "Do you lose much by candies getting stale?" "Not a great deal. But it is because I have steady customers, and only makeup enough to supply what I think the demand will be. I believe it better to be out of a certain variety than to lose on it. It is likely that the customer will buy another sort. There was a mint of money lost this season by the small confectioners who do not make their own candies. They thought there was going to be a big demand during the Christmas holidays, and laid in accordingly. There WSB noth ing like the sale that they expected, and they had to dispose of their stock as best they could." "How long will candies keep fresh?" "It depends on the candies, the temperature, and amount of moisture in the place where they are kept Some kinds will not last twenty-four hours. Last summer I sold cream strawberries, which were the 'fresh strawberries coated with the confection. I had to make them up two and three times a day. Those left over night were spoiled in the morning."

WAITING THE RETURN OF A SPECTER.

How a Dying Man's Promise to Return to This World Was Kept.

Yesterday was the day set for William Van Tassel, who died last fall, to return, according to statements made to his family, to his farm near Twin Lake, on East Mountain, in this county, says the Troy (N. Y.) Times. Byron Brker, who married one of Van Tassel's daughters, said that the old mans ghost appeared to him and William Bailey, on February 7. The spook was looking out of the barn window, and wore the fur hat Van Tassel wore when alive, and had a sheep-skin drawn loosely over hie shoulders. Soon afterward it reappeared and called for James Van Tas sel. James was induced to come out of the house, and, says Baker, the ghost addressed him, saying: "James, you must mend your ways and stop swearing, and take charge of the farm. I understand that James H. Hoffman is coming to live here, and I want you to tell him that I will be here again on Friday, February 22d, and it he is here then I will haunt the life out of him." The ghost then disappeared. Hoflman married Van Tassel's youngest daughter against her father's will.

Yesterday, therefore, was looked to with interest, and a party was on the watch a good part of the day. The party consisted of persons living in the adjoining mountain farms. Toward 6 p. m. the first noise was heard. Some thought it came from the out side. Investigation was made, nothing was discovered.

The party returned to the house, and all was quiet until nearly 8 p. m. Then a second noise was heard from the outside. It sounded like groans, and the party again went out In the party were James Van Tassell, Rice Stevens, Sam Jones, Gil Bailey, Mrs. Hail and her son George, besides the members of the Van Tassell family. James says that they saw a strange sight about 300 yards from the house. It x-as an object that shone brilliantly, and started from the ground. Its course was upward, and it gradually floated to the northeast in spite of a strong west wind. It arose slowly, and presented the appearonce of a man's head and neck, but much larger. All of the party saw it. It did not, James says, in any way resemble bis father, and, he added with emphasis that no one in the family had ever connected his father with that specter. He said the whole party stood, and with wonderment gazed at it as it slowly sailed away in an opposite direction to a strong wind. It did not have bis father's old fur hat or, nor did it show any of his feature*. Unlike the spook of two weeks before, it Bpoke not It gradually receded until it was lost in the distance. It was in sight about five minutes. "There's no question," he added, "but that it presented a counterpart of a person's head and neck."

M. Mace, the great French detective and the terror of the Paris evil doer, is just about five feet tall, if it be proper to use the term tall as applied to such a stature. He haa £een thirty years

FLORIDA FACTS

For Which Strangers are not Prepare* by Beading Florida Literature.

Patalka Cor. New York Sun. At almost any bookstore in this state you can buy a score of books, pamplets, and periodicals devoted exclusive^ ly to Florida topics. Some of them contain a good deal of information. Yet, having read all of them, the northerner in Florida is continually coming upon him facts that are new and surprising to him. You may be surprised.

To observe that a region which was discovered nearly 400 years ago, and is said to bo so invitiug to mio, has found BO few to accept the invitation.

To find [notwithstanding all you have read concerning Florida winters] the January sun so warm at midday.

To fiud [in view of all you have read] so few wild or cultivated blossoms thriving in the sun's rays, and so little fragrance in them.

To find so few birds, barring hawks and other birds of pray, warmed into a voiceful mood by the semi-tropical Bnn —to find so few birds of any description.

That the duration of twilight is so brief. To find how little covering you require on your bed upon retiring, and to find how much covering you wish you had when you wake up towards morning.

To see, upon going out doors, that the ground is not covered with frost, and that the flowers [such as they are] are not killed.

To note how little soil there is, and how many empty tin canB there are above the sand.

To see orange trees, with rich green leaves and loaded with yellow fruit, growing out of the gray sand.

To come across gardens in wLich plants and vegetables are growing in great variety and luxuriantly in this same sand.

To obberve that so few persons have these flourishing gardens, and to be told that not many can afford to bay the quantity of fertilizer this luxury calls lor.

To find the sidewalks shaded by orange trees weighted down by tempting golden fruit

To discover that this golden fruit is wild oranges, and very sour. To be told that strangers should be careful about drinking much of the water at first.

To observe how little self-denial the observance of this caution calls for. To see how yellow most of the native and acclimated residents are.

To discover, before long, that you are turning yellow yourselt. To note how few persons there are who are past seventy years of age.

To see so many idle negro men, to observe that nearly all of them wear heavy woolen caps, and to learn that their heads are still cold.

To be told by so many of them that they were "bo'n in de norf." That the negro laborers on the docks can't work without making such a bedlam.

That they can do any other work whilf making it. To discover that your water-tight top boots leak sand, and to be told that everybody's boots and shoes contain more or less sand.

To be forced to the conclusion that wh'erever there is sand there are red ants also.

To hear the voice of the nocturnal musquito in midwinter. To wait in vain for him to settle down and bite, so that you can get a whack at bim, and to be told in the morning that musquitoes haven't enough energy in winter to do much biting.

To find yourself wondering whether they, too, are yellow and bilious. To be fssured by a plain and candid appearing white man that the musquitoes were so thick here last summer that they not only darkened the air at high noon, but put out the lamps which were lighted in the stores.

To find that there are bigger and less harmless liars than he in nearly every neighborhood.

To have to fight BO many fiieB in the houses in the winter. To be told that flies do not come into the houses in the summer.

To reflect that you permitted yourself to be surprised at this information, when it would have been so much more reasonable to assume that your informant lied.

To come face to face in the sandy wilderness with a pack of gaunt, bony, shaggy beasts of almost every color, and resembling nothing you have ever seen before.

To be informed afterward that they were Mr. Julius Lemon's shoats. To be assured that Mr. Lemon and his family contemplate eating them ultimately.

Arkansaw Politeness.

Arkansaw Traveler. A correspondent of a Toledo paper has been struck by Arkansaw politeness. This should cause no astonishment, for, as a class, the Arkansaw people rank high among the most polite "folks" of the world. Some time ago a gentleman came to Arkansaw for the purpose of "writing up" its crudities. One day while standing on the bank of a small stream, a native came along and asked: "Whut yer doin', pedaer, watchin' a mossrat?" "No." "Got yer eye on a snake or suthin', I reckon?" "No, I haven't. Go ou away, I am trying to catch an idea and don't wan't to be bothered." •'Yer mout ketch a few fish ef jer wuster try right hard, but I don't beKmmh itAnMI 1ta4iVi

lflt

»it tdaaa ^ni» nr

lieve you ll ketch any ideas, fur ter tell the truth, cap'n, I don' believe yau've got the bait suitable fur ketch ing ideas." The writer was a very impulsive mau, and quickly decided that the scrawny fellow needed chastisement, he said: "If I could get over there I'd thrash you, my lank fellow." "No trouble 'bout that," replied the native, and rolling a log into the water, he helped the correspondent across, whipped him, and conducted him safely to the other side. Oh, yep, the peoj*, pie of this state are polite.

A Frightful Fungus.

Probably by Eli Perkins. One of the most remarkable fungi of which there is any record, grew in the wine cellar of Sir Joseph Banks. He but received a cask of wine as a gift, and finding it too sweet had it locked up in a cellar to ripen. There it remained for three years, piobably the time he was with Captain Cook in his voj age around the world. At the end of that period he directed his butler to ascertain the state of the wine, but the cellar door could not be opened on account of some powerful obstacle within. The door was cut tlown, when the cellar was found La completely filled with a fungus eo donse and firm as to require an ax for its removal.' it was then discovered that the fungus bad consumed every drop of wine and raised the empty cask to the ceiling.

Fashion's Latest Folly.

Fashion Journal.

EW5i'"'

Electrical jewelry is worn in Paris. The ornaments consist of glass, cut and colored to imitate rubies, diamonds and other stones and fitted in an envelope surrounding a small in*^ candescent lamp of low resistance!The light shines through the pieces of glass only and gives them all the ap-^ pearance of the stones they are intend-' ed to imitate. The lamp is few from a small battery, which is carried about the person.

Petroleum Soap.

Nicholas Helmer, aNew York chemist, claims to have discovered a process by whu-h no: ma It" madea'P®" trOlft

i.'Hl f'H" 1

Ty"R A®

thOUj. .J not pi. tent it, In causa i*1Tsureioqno Will discover tae secret,,