Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 5 October 1884 — Page 6

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IfcT

wfeSgJ51

THE POETH CORNER.

grass.

And cry so quietly that those who pass Hear by may heed me not, bnt go Their own glad way unconscious of my woe.

To feel the bending grasses touch my hair, To hear the wind's low whisper ererywhere, To feel all nature's life like a caress Come softly with a pitying tenderness.

Until my inner self should understand That this one hour was worth the strife— That this relinquishing was joy diviiie, A stronger grasp npon a stronger life. —[Alice Turner.

g£yy Good-bye,

Before we knew that

Ixve

•Or set our feet in Sorrow's ways.

Vow we have learned how Trust betrays And bitter doubts and terrors throng .-WslThe words half dear when all were young. '.SGood-bye, sweetheart!

V-^Oh, soft refrain of idle song, /jiWhat memories lurk its notes among! J**For us, no hope its pain allays, v?With eyes all dim with boding haze,

Pur faltering Ups delay it long, ^'-fChjod-bye, sweetheart. mg —[All the Tear Bound.

Phebe.

Throughout the slumb'rous August days Between the south winds falling, 'A sweet, insistent voice I hear: »Xia "Phebe! Phebe!" calling.

'Tis "Phebe! Phebe!" from the hill, And "Phebe!" from the hollow Adown the meadow's billowy path Jf Its wistful accents follow.

*And who is "Phebe," pray tell me, That you should seek her crying? Borne dainty mffid who scorned your

Perchance if you would curb your love, And act in colder fashion, Sj^JPair Phebe's heart might turn to yon *ytS% In coy and sudden passion.

'-3

But still the plaintive voice goes on Hard hearted is the Hebe "What cares she for her moping love

Who wails his "Phebe! Phebe!"

ITis "Phebe! Phebe!" from the hill, And "Phebo" from the hollow Adown the meadow's billowy path

Its wistful accents follow. —[Kate L. Brown, jn Boston Transcript.

—IfflOLUI'S LOVER. «. K*

By BIDRTHA M. CLAY,

Author of "Dora Thome."

CHAPTER XLIX.

a strange night. The moon had hidden herself behind the clouds and could not be seen yet, though she was absent, tbe world was full of dim, dreamy beauty—tbe beauty of a summer night. In the gardens at Ashbrooke there was no sound, save when the wind stirred the great boughs every now and then the rose-leaves fell, and a little bird started from its

fell, and a little bird starieu irom

She had never said to herself that he would really marry again. She had had a vague idea that her supposed death-would make Madolin and himhappy but that wrong should .come of it Bhe had never once thought *t"-or dreamed. She had not remembered ^in her despair that no man can have two living wives, let the circumW stances be what they may. Now

Bhe

saw it. She was living,

and

she was Sir Aldewln's lawful wife—while she lived he could marry no other. True, he honestly believed that she was dead, so that no shadow of blame could ever attach itself to him. Madolin also moBt honestly believed that she was dead, nor could a shade of blame rest on her neither, so far as she could Bee, was it possible that the secret of her existence Bhould ever be known. But from Heaven nothing could be hidden.

How would it be Was it ever well to do wrong that good should come from it? And the clear, innocent, simple conscience was quick to answer, "No."

The marriage must not be men might never know the reason, but, in very truth, Madolin must not be his wife. If Heaven should bless Madolin with children, they would not be his lawful heirs. Suppose that a son should be given to them, and in the

c«fter-years,when

Bee

»J*'

IX*

7**1

10Wo£ld

Sweetheart.

Good-bye, sweetheart! The quaint old phrase marriage went on, and she remained as She passed

tows

And would not heed your sighing?

he had perhaps taken

possession of the estate, the truth came to light what could they do then but curse her memory.

She looked at the position in every possible way, and the more Bhe reflected the more frightened she became. "It insist not be!" Her past wrongdoing filled her with horror it was against the law of heaven for any uiau to .have two wives, and, if she stood by

the sacred ceremony profaned

if by he silence she aided and abetted it, she herself broke the law of heaven and no other. "What shall I do?" she cried to herBeif, wringing her hands. Whatshall 1 do

She saw wherein she had erred. If she had really intended them all to be lieve her dead, she oucht never to have returned to England Bhe should have remained abroad where Bhe could neither know nor hear of any^ing thing that was passing. She had done wrong to return home—that was her great error. How bitterly she reiUntfld it! If she had remained in some obscure Italian village, all would have been well. She could not have believed it her duty then to atop the marriage, because she would have known nothing of it. Now how could she, with her sensitive conscience, let

fhatday had been one of long torture to her. She had heard so much which distressed her—accusations against Madolin's, insinuations against her husband. She had suffered during the whole day, there had not been one moments respite

from

them all, a few minutes during

^"which she might collect her thoughts, 'decide on her future conduct, arrange s«»hat she should do. jiteg Now was the time, out in the Boft 'fhweet glo m, out in the fresh fragrant iMlidlence, with the stars, the dew, the l$Xk flowers, the tall trees, the shadowy werld—out there she could

IthXso, while the visitors were all Jin the drawing-room, and the enjoying themselves in the servants

hall, she went out to drive away the fever whien seemed to have taken possession of her. i, "How blind, how mad, how foolish

We jested at in olden days she was—how could she answer for the Itaeemedto herbntyraterdy •When Faith was fresh, and Hope was strong, mf.:ntpnalice 0f

perch it was sweetest, softest silence It was the leaning

that brooded over the beautiful earth. 'in. the darkneBB and the Btillness the flowers seemed to send up clouds of sweet perfume—the great bushes of

stood Elaine, face to face with the most

'Eight or wrong

fee?" She had drifted into a terrible posi?tion, and did.not know how to extri'cate herself from it. She had awakened ,to the awful reality that her husband was going to marry another while she r. .'U ttUTO. it ULUBK uu« uvk ^SaJTtbink" argue with herself as she would, she could not help owning that it was something that muBt be stopped at any cost or any price. She had not realized it before.

She could not in any way warn him. he would require proofs, he would want everything made clear, and she could not explain to him either her jealousy or her love. She could not no over those details of her life, her misery, her jealousy, her sufferings he would not understand them, simply because he did not love her. Neither would it be of any use to warn her parents there was no reason to give, except the fact of her being alive—that she was not willing to proclaim, lhey would, as her husband would, require proof, and the only proof she could give them was bv revealing herself.

She was complou ly bewildered. She could find no wt out of her difficulty, until the idea suddenly occurred to her that the best perBon to help her

erBtraiQ0(j

SK foTtX'^rd'A™551

do it at once.''

CHAPTER h.

Lady Chesleigh had decided. She would go to Madolin and warn her. She would confess her folly, her jeal.

ouBy, her Bin. her sweetest comfort. She rested that night better than she had rested for long months. Madolin had always consoled, had always comforted he_ her heart found refuge in the thought of her now.

With the morning came fresh reflections. How was she to see Madolin unless she went to Southwold

At first that seemed

.*$&

"t Matter if she stood by in Th«e was a strange dazed expreraon nilptiRA and let the marriage go on? on her face aa she came out of the staWould her sin be unpardonable? New tion, a dreamy look in her eyes & look fears ome to her Suppose that the as of one roused from sudden sleep.

fears came to her. Suppose tnat tne as oi one street"

She could not endure the thought of it. "It must not be!" The marriage was wrong. If Bhe allowed it to go on, she would be guilty of a crime therefore she must prevent it.

The sensitive, gentle, loving heart could never yield to crime, could neyer consent to injustice, could never stand by while wrong was done to or by others. That was quite decided the golden stars, the dew, the flowers, everything most sweet and fair confirmed her in her opinion. There could be no two ways of thinking about the marriage it must not be.

When once her heart and mind were decided, Elaine was immovable. She wasted no more time now in thinking what was to be done. The question which troubled her now was how was she to act.

Would it be of any use if she wrote to Sir Aldewin, and told him that she was still living? Hardly, for when he had so much at stake he would be difficult to persuade he would require to see her, be would want her to go back to Ashbrooke with bun, and the whole of her wretched life would begin again. She bad paited from her husband by a supposed death and she did not wish that parting to be undone. ..

wildly im

practicable that she dismissed it from ler thoughts. That she Bhould goto her own home, where the tragedy of her life had been played, Beemed to her imprudent. She could not endure the thought but after a time she brought her mind to view the idea favorably. If she wanted to see Madolin, it must be there. Yet how could she ever go back to the home from winch she had parted forever? It had to be done yet ihe shrank from it. There was no immediate hurry for it after all. She would take a lew dayB to think over the ways and means.

She was startled from her dream ol leisure by hearing Mr. Bird say that

at her with a smile. "To tell you the truth," she said, "I am glad to hear you have friends. 1 had begun to fancy that you were quite alone in the world, will answer for it that you can go.

To Lady Chesleigh that was the leatt part of the difficulty. It was hard—for the old passionate love waa

toSSTs™

,on.®.

neace. She had longed with a feverish Wing for a few minutes' rest away

rw:**

,'*

I«r she aaid over and over again. Whan IBPSS

"Of what could I have been thinking? Waldenthe men bricks and the stones, so pleased was But she owned to herself that she gave. way. liven tne

Recompense. she ownea to that she emoloved there were familiar to her. oaly to ftrow myeelf face downward in the had notibeena e^ °KiS2d^ jS^S^S M^o&'deptTand once ehe saw her to see her child again. Her boa- the park, *****P®£j°™e InriouS

bank wold

h«r tVint the best perBon io sonu unr would be Madolin herself and her struck her

1 a a a a a a a a

southernwood were all fragrance, the *»art of thoBe who so spoke, her. She recognized the liveries, and dew had fallen, and lay like tiny pearls

her anci WOunded

on the leaves and flowers. wondered how it waa that no one ever

In the midst of the Bilenee and fra- The pi" ?atee at ta'' Sh« threw grance, under the light of the stars,

COmmon

was sure heaven would help her. She

i/%

Viov I

band might have forgotten her, her P^^.yJ^ th«m JvfJv one more or Her mind was at rest again evidently S S S S a a I

die but this love of her child—this was' the'love that lived. After all, she now on the platform, and no one could not blame berseli, she could not knew her. She was but one of a crowd, say that she had acted foolishly in en- She tad to ^omdeavoring to see her child. It was tbe therefore, she had no.ntht to com

myBelf

watclunc the aters. She knew that mused Elaine. "1 will not go to the she should hear the great clock strike point where I can see the house, Iwill eleven if no star had fallen by then, wait in the grounds^ she would not tell Madolin. A great red rose fell and scattered its leaves. A bird stirred in its leafy nest. Still from the eilent sky no star had fallen. Suddenly, far away to the west, she

As she turned aside she heard the hall clock strike six. It would be only an hour and a half until Madolin came. ,,

She walked to what bad been a very favorite spot of hers—a little dell

uauio tv "w IUWJ .—

a few years baek, when she had hid den there for hours, transported with the beauty of a poem every word of which came back to her. She B&id it again to herself in a low voice, and its words gladdened her even in that hour of sorrow. Whose the poem was

The bought brought 1 she did not remember but the motto The thought

brou8ni|prefixed

ia ahpa

on\"ltoh™e11h-

her disguise? Suppose she had ridden and driven through it,

could wrong, thTaXnearous illness seized her the with a kind word for everyone and a

uiaiuicuauw v* «v» that a dangerous illness seized her the chances were that the secret of her disguise would be discovered, and

with a kind word for every one and a smile like sunshine. And now in the eyes of all men she was dead.

On she went, past the shops, the houses, every one of which Bhe knew just as well as Bhe knew the lines of her own face then the street ended, and the pretty rows of cottages half buried in trees began—familiar was every one of them. Here lived a woman whom she had relieved, cared for, and attended to for years here lived little children whom, as babies, she had nursed and careBsed. She passed like a stranger now no face brightened for seeing hers, no children clustered round her with glad acclaim. They shrank from the dark face so full of the mystery of pain.

Then the cottages w«e left behind, and she was once more on the high road to the park. The trees grew taller and larger, and the grass was greener, the hedgerows were filled with flowers. When she found herself alone, she sat down upon a green bank and wept as though her heart would break—such tears as she had not shed once since her hapless marriage—tears in part caused by love of the dear old home and of her proud fond father and gentle mother. "It seems to me though I had really been mad, and had only jnst come to my senses," she said and in her own mind she went back to the time before her illness. She seemed to take up her life from there, when her home, her parents, her happy innocent girlhood, had filled her life. "What a fatal love it was!" she said to herself "how fatal, me!"

as!"

to it was a beautiful one:

Qui sait aimer sail mourir Who knows how to love knows how to die. 'I burn my soul away go spoke the rose, and smiled within her cup. 'All day the sunbeams fall in flame aU day

Thoy drink my sweetness np.

1 sigh my soul away,'

The lily eaid. 'All night the moonbeams

Steal round and round me, whisp'ring in their play, An all too tender tale.' 'I give my soul away,'

The violot eaid. 'The weiit wind wanders on The north wind comes. I know not what they I say-— I And yet my soul is gone. "Oh poet, burn away I The fervent soul fond lover, at the feet

Of her thou lovest, sigh 'Dear love, and pray, And let the world be eweet!" Over and over again she murmued the words, "Who knows how to love knows how to die in very truth had Bhe loved well, for she had been quite ready to die for her loves sake.

Iflifrare bv hearing ivir. xiru u»y She had given her soul away,_ sne the west wing was to be closed for al-1 smiled as she thought to herself that, terations, which were to be commenced Li the three flowera the poet sang of, at once Then it seemed to her high Lhe

re.embled

limn that she took some active meas-1 had given her soul, never knowing it, nrel She asked Mrs. Bird if it never dreaming of it, yet waking from would be convenient for her to go away I

CHAPTER LI.

The sun was setting, the hall clock had chimed out seven there was no sign oi Madolin. She watched keenly she heard the rustle of the g^a^be aound of falling leaves, but no Mado-

hard-forthe old paaaionate love was, the hVte revivine—to leave Sir Aldewin it was I light lingered, go uoaro

rd»n»SVT.»ri.d' the men were set to work. If she de-1 gray and rose tints \ayed it much longer it would

but

increase the misery and confusion. died

So one fine morning Bhe bid aa eu pale goldencresce

,.T.h®,Huhe £r the m^n rose up,

to the kindly housekeeper, kwd[the dty ^tbe lwves wwe su.^ lovely face °f httle Pearl, depart- ^^hered round her, and

in the morning everything was fresh I

tot. the train to in.. M«doim jrogd a

Walden and then walk to the park. Something!ttke d«P"'^Pl It was a beautiful day-people in then.. What nei^jouj

was generally during the^ night to the hall^e

and green. That morning ^l^Yow^is^e hoSl-the dear home where the happiest days of as the dew, and tne air was so pure I oiu uu «»ent—the home in that to breathe it was a luxury. I uj-v, had liveothe gayept, bright-

She marveled much during her] our- whi^bad UvM^

ney it seemed to her as though she est **eSScedE her Ufe had been dead and mow h«d again. I "ut. when .he had It was so strange to pass by the old

sure she could endure it in gran, stern 1 Every

silence*

mnrfl to

Bae bhiu

Looking round her, every tree and flower seemed to have a welcome for her

She

them was to stroll v--dinner was over, while Sir Jonn took his nap, and Lady Marche nodded over her paper. She had thought much and deeply as to how she had better see Madolin, as to whether she should send her a note or a message. Hut this

SSK.HS Ts-sasg

MJmPr®?.kl^b\e,lin

whole heart, her whole soul fastened membering tbe habit Madolin had of eairerlv" on this. Maddlin, who had spending the hour after dinner in the alwaysloved her, who had always been grounds, she determined upon meeting har friend if she could but tell her her there. storv all would be well. Her tearB did her good. She raised

The fdeTwas ao pleasant, so full of her head with renewed courage. "It hoDe and comfort,that it seemed to her is one thing," she said to herself, to it must have come from heaven direct, commit a fault it is another to shrink

it must have come iroui uumiun

ro g^e

u® j'

®Xed on to the pa

nnnn the stronger. If Madolin knew She walked on to the park. The and^Iadolin would help her, all wonld S

her. She again a dull, '°7he

her

imagination there seemed her arms round ^the iron pillars. It

impresaion that Sir 1 was something like coming borne,

"should ahe tell Madolin or not? She woman who {"''"membejld

Vant

whom she well

would make for herself an augury, came out to her and spoke to her. She would watch the starlit skies and "Haveyou business.at the hail? she if in the west a

Btar

fell, Bhe would I asked. And Elaine answered. Yes,

take that as a sign that heaven blessed she had to see sonw one who lived ^intention, and ahe would ^Eat

wa8 all)

There came to her many solemn mo- "What a curious dark face! thought ments hi fife after that, but none she the woman who had known her so remembered better than the moments well. "And vet there ia something rim stood in the sweet Bolemn silence I familiar in it to me. of night under the spreading boughs, "I will Bpare

see

it.

ehe once more to see it There was alight in the room where

M^doliS's

a^'SrtSfr.Tfhe etood thta tod h» ^nQ

re8he

aa to whether toe present or the

and she went on.

shadow on the white bUnd.

out into the grounds. Where should she rest all night? The lodge gates would be closed—that was quite certain she would not dare to rouse the lodge people, or tbey would want to question her. She remembered tnat down by the lake side there was a little summer house that had been built because she had asked her father for one and she resolved to go to it. ®h® conld remain there quite unnoticed, and in the morning she could leave the park by the otter lodge and return in the evening.

So she, Elaine, Lady Chesleigb, the dainty, delicate beauty, the heiress of .1 1 J_ lltA inlfA AT O Tlftn

miLw

•r $

y0A«dn?Elaine

all uaeleaspain,

the violet most bhe

the dark blue

No Mado_

darkneffl lay uke a

had been piayeu

familiar placee, no one re^mzing lain do^ to^wano^ y^ her, no friendly face smiling at ^er.no I J" ^^eb^ore Se departed, kindly voice welcoming her. It*" 1 }^e the face of an old friend like living a double life. She had sol It.was could have cried aloud nerved terself ahefeltin her'joy and her pain at seeing it matter how great thei pain, shei felt!in_ne .q_

the earth, she

nS-^e

home

ouk hope

door, every

turret)

had its separate

^%^«TOT TERRE HAUTE WYPRESS. SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 5,1884.

0UR

ssaarftss-a stk satfiSMf

a,hundred

frantic gestures, he would not leave her. "What a satire on human love sue said to herself. "I have been with my husband, my child, and my dearest friend not one of them has recognized me. This dog, however, knowB

me Carlo lay all night outside the sum-mer-house, and only left the morning- to get his breakfast, during which time she made her escape and went back to Walden, faint, hungry and

tired. She spent the day ere, an

how cruel to in the evening returned to the part. This time Bhe was more fortunate. It was late in the evening—nearly 8 o'clock—and the beautiful fragrant dusk lay lightly over the earth. She

for retime on fte8™en «. ssMar®

moment, aiwiuugu ing in the sky, and the great boughs of the trees partly hid her from view. Her heart beat she trembled Bhe said to herself that this was the crisis of her life. ... .,

Madolin walked on quickly—the chestnut avenue washer favorite prom-enade-and Elaine left the shade of the great beech and came to the end of the avenue. "Madolin!" she said,gently.

But Madolin did not hear her her own thoughts engrossed her. Elaine was silent for a moment a bird flew from the nearest tree, a hare leaped the brushwood, the wind stirred some fallen leaves, a wood-dove called out to

^'Madolin," she said jjain and this time the whispered v#ce seemed to

stopped for a moment evidently

the sound was familiar to her. She stood quite still, saving to herself that itwas but a freak of fancy-she could not have heard Elaine's voice and she raised her eyes to heaven, where she

time her cousin stood quite still, with a look of solemn, startled wonder on her face, She looked round with a low cry and then she saw Elaine standing in the soft Kloom, silent and motionless. She went up to her, and for a moment the two stared at each other.

*"Mrs. Moore," Bhe demanded, in a low, startled tone, "what has brought

said "Madolin!" and

Miss Brierton threw up her hands with aery of wonder. "Who are you," she cried— you who come to

steadily—and

with Elaine voice

and a Btranger'sface? In the name of Heaven, who are you? There was no answer, and Elaine, sobbing aB if her heart would break, hid her face in her hands.

thenalie

cried

neaven, wuu thine familiar yet strange iq your face, you speak to me with Elaine voice. For mercy'B sake, answer me 1 Who

"Lower and lower dropped the bowed head and a voice like no other voice —like nothing human—said: "Madolin, do you notknowme? "I am alarmed! cried Madolin. If it were not that I knew her to te dead -if it were not that you have a stranger's face, dark and drawn-I shonld say you were Lady Cbesleign. "I am Lady CheBleigh, Baid the girl humbly—"wretched, most miserable,

•tSSSffi!%, Madoltatog from her the hands she was holding. "You are not Elaine! You are an* impostor! You have assumed the expression of her face, the tone of her voice but Lady Chesleigh lies 4ead under the sea." "Would to heaven she did! cried Elaine, with a fervor there waano mistaking—fervor that struck Madolm with the sudden fear of conviction.

ShoraiBed Elaine's face and looked fixedly into it for some minutes, and then she said slowly: "You are Elaine? What in the name of Heaven, then am I?

There waa such Borrow, such dismay, such despair in her voice, that Elaine verv heart sank within her. "If you are Elaine," she cried again "Elaine come back from the dead

trance of delight^to find her soul

for a dav or two, aa she had friends to gone the winds had wandered see and the housekeeper looked upJUU|

on)

and, unknowingly, unwillingly,

she bad given her soul away.

"Madolin. my darling, you have al ways been kind to my, you have always stood my friend, you have been dearer that a sister, are you not S to see me? Have you no word of welcome for me. "I am stunned—I am bewildered! cried Madolin. "How can you be

Elaine You are an impostor, and my senses are deceiving me. My sweet Elaine would come to me in no such guise as this. Elaine laid down her lair young

(life.

I say again that it

cannot be." ., "I wish indeed it were so, said Elaine. "If one star is more unlucky than another, it must be the star under which I was born. I am indeed your most unhappy cousin, Elaine March^ Oh, Madolin, speak to me kindly, my darling! You are my only hope in this world. I have been so foolish, so mad, almost wicked, speak to me and tell me that you are pleased to see me.

Madolin raised ner hands to the heavv bonnet and pushed it back. "What does it mean?" she said— "this disguise, this masquerade? What, does it mean that yor areliving, not dead that you have let us mourn for you, weep for you, sorrowJfr you that your mother's hair haF grown white with grief, and your father has allowed all the loyof hw life to die out of him while your child is growing up motherless, while gou are masquerading in this unseemly fashion? 1 cannot understand it "I will tell yon, Madolin, answered the trembling girl "bnt speak kindly to me. My dear, if you look so harshly, so sternly at me, I shall fall at yonr £eet»" "I am not harsh, Elaine—if yon really are Elaine. 1 am dazed and bewildered—I cannot understand—l am lost and puzzled. I afn not hard or cruel, believe me. I do not mean to fceso." ... "If yon will sit down here with me for only a few minutes, Madolin, I will tell yon all," said lady Chesleigh. [To be continued in the Sunday Etprtty]

C0""CAL C0Lll,",•

Fanny Extracts from Oar Exceedingly Facetious Exchanges.

Fint Fall Fir*—Colored Mortality—An Accommodating Aotresi—Boston Culture— And Other Oddities.

JOTS OF THE FIBE8IDE.

Detroit Free Press. "Got a fir% in the parlor stove, eh?" he queried, as he backed np to it and spread his coat-tails apart. "Yea, Samuel, the evenings are getting chilly." "Y-e-s, afire feels rayther good. I was a-thinkinu after I'd fed the hogB you'n I would"

Here he stopped and began to lump up and down and tear niB hair and

ffiSd'SK1'! SfS.SiS'SSS "^ttanner-oh, wMch had been bnilt lor heramuae- 'gin.

she prayed Heaven during that crazy 7" You back-action,

One thing touched her very much. "deaths

Ah she waa making her way to the summer house, one of the dogs, a big hound named Carlo, ran suddenly up to her. At first she was frightened, for Uwlo had little mercy, and she felt Bure that he would fly at her. To her Burpnsehe. recognized her he crouched at nw feet, he evinced his joy by

^»-a^

b"°

in the family.

Texas Sittings. An Austin colored party named Jake was very late a few days ago in getting dowli to the store. His employer, Col. Allspice, rebuked Jake in somewhat severe language. "I want you to understand this trifling will never do. If you can't get down to your work in time 111 hire somebody who can." "Boss, don't be hard on me, and th« nfiffro's eves filled with tears. I months the year, bix years ago

"Whgy,wbayt'a the matter with »oa?

Anybody sick?" "Sic! I don't know which am gwint«r die fust, my wife or my mudder. "I am sorry I spoke so harshly as that. I didn't know it was as bad as that. We won't need you about the store to-day." ,, ,, "Thank you boss thank you kindly, and off be went.

Next morning Col. Allspice asked Jake what he meant by saying that hit, wife and mother were dying when he had seen both on the Btreet the day before. "Dyin'," exclaimed Jake, opening his mouth wide enough to admit of a coffee-mill being thrown into it and elevating his eyebrows in amazement. "Yes. You said they were dying, and half an hour after you left, your wife came here to see if you had drawn your wages for last month." "I nebber said dey was dying. Jit you waster see de way dey opens dar moufs and taks in chunks of bacon you wouldn't 'spec dem ob dying. I bleeve I did say I didn't know which of em was gwinter die fust, and I didn't know .« .1 T_ Mf/iVi vAAn anno*

watJ uwrnwi uio amov9

that yet deys bofe got sich good app tites—I knows one ob 'em got ter di fust, but'

Here Col. Allspice interrupted the orator with an ax-helve, and the business relations heretofore existing between them have been severed.

cheering him up.

San Francisco Post. 'What the matter, dear?" asked the wife of an enterprising city editor as he returned home with a gloomy brow the other day. 'Matterenough," growled the journalist "Why to-day issue is going to be as flat as a pancake. Telegraph wires are all down on the Overland and not a single case of manslaughter up to the hour of going to press. Abeolutely nothing but the snide suicide up in Chinatown—"Chinese opium fiend, or something." "Poison case, eh?" she asked sooth-

in"$h.no:

pistol. I b'l've, and a throat

cut afterwards. "Why, that's a 'sickening tragedy item, isn't it, darling Snot SBd cut himself, did he? Come, now, thats better that nothing."

CAMPAIGN MUSIC.

Lime Kiln Club. The matter being referred to the committee named, it reported as follows: "Brass bands should be looked upon de same as biles—to be endoored only until dey kin begot shet of. If de tootin' of a ho'n becomes annoyin to

dis cafie and

give each

SSb« at t»o ,•» rn -{t. P®

UUOI ttk woo

on. We recommend prompt ackshun.

an accommodating actkess.

Philadelphia Call. Emma Abbott—Is everything ready? Stage Carpenter—Oh, a dreadful thing haB happened! Parts of the Bcenery has not arrived.

Emma—Which

part is it?

Stage Carpenter—The most important of all, the cavern Bcene in the third act. ...

Emma—Well, don't worry I will

Sn^toge^Carpenter—But

there is no

Emma—I will stand at the back oi the stage and yawn.

boston culture

St. Louis Critic. "Are you atheosophist?" inquired a St. Louis lady of a brilliant Boston ienne, who was visiting her. "A what?" ejaculated the young lady from the Hub. "Why, a theosophist.' "Oh, dear no we have no such thing in Boston. The Sullivan fist, you know is the only popular one in Boston now."

A FKIGHTEUL MOTHER HUBBABD.

Rochester Poet-Express. "What's all

thiB

I hear about the

Mother Hubl-ards? What are they, anyway?" "Oh, they're dresses that are not pleasing to tbe fastidious westerners. They seem to be afraid of them "Women must wear them in the east, too, don't

they

"Oh, yes

they're worn all over." "Have you ever seen anything in them to be afraid of?" "Yes my wife."

•LAUGHUBT8.

A New Jersey girl is charged with having two husbands, one a plumber and the other an ice man. She was evidently determined to roll in wealth all the year round.

Tbe grasshopper has, according to its size, 120 times tbe kicking power of an averaga

mnn

£0DQ6.

It must be exciting

timeslor the young grasshoppers which

5 courting and find the old man at

Every fashionable girl now wears a small lobster on her breast It is, perhaps, the better way to wear a lobster, though we have occasionally worn them in our stomach with more or less satisfaction to ourselves.

A Cape Cod man having twitted a Bostonian with want of knowledge as to what a bluefish was, was met with tbe answer: "Oh, yes, we do it is the temnodon saltater, an acanthoptergi«m of the family of scombridie." "Oh, I do so date on the sea," ahe gurgled. "If you only had a yacht, Augustus, dear!" "I have no yacht, Wilhelmina," he sighed, "but I can give you a little smack.' And then it sonnded as if a cork bad flown out of abgttle.

Indignant tourist to the hotel manager who has just presented his bill: "See here! You have charged me 50. centimes for writing paper, and you know verv well that yon have not furniahed me a scrap!" "But Monsieur, it is for the paper on which yonr bill 2s made out"

A Costly War Veaael.

London Truth. What has become of H. M. 8. Thunderer? The country haa certainly not bad much value for its money out of this vessel, which cost on £500,000

%:.: ., -v-,-

sterling, including £360,000 for construction and £140,000 odd for repairs. She was launched in March, 1872, at Pembroke dockyard, bat was not commissioned until August, 1876. It was on her trial trip at the measured mile, in this month, that one of her boilers burst, killing between forty and fifty of her crew and wounding more than twice that number. She thereupon returned into dock for six months. After being at sea with the Mediterranean Bquadron for rather lees than two years, in January, 1879, one of her 38-ton guns burst in the after turret, while at practice, killing Bix and wonnding tniry-two officers and men. Since that time, however, this magnificent ironclad, one of the most powerful afloat, has been lying np in Malta harbor, a sheer hoik, with her crew tranefeired to the post-admiral's flagship. It is surely a scandalous, nay, more, a criminal va&te of public property and money, to be constantly laying down and esmatiting for new warships, while a vessel, able with its sister ships, Uie Devastation and Dreadnaught, to sink any six war vessels in any navy, isleft to ruBt and rot simply because sailors have a prejudice against her and look upon her as an "unlucky ship."

THE SWELILI SOCIETY GIRL.

Her Way of Living of Enjojing Heraelf

Something of and Manner Hugely. Mew York Letter.

The visitor to New York and the average citizen who works for his living seldom or never sees the really swell society girl unless he catches a glimpse of her in her box at the opera or sees her roll by in a glittering drag once a year on "coaching day." Any one more thoroughly guarded than the girl in question it would be difficult to imagine. To begin with, the season hasbeen so much shortened of late thatshe is only in New York a few months in the year. Sixyeareago

bo-

no one thought of leaving town before July. Nowadays fashionable people never come here before November, and the season is not fairly started before December. It goes fast and furious for five months, and then comes on the Coaching clubs parade in May, which officially closes the season.

The society girl runs over to England in May and catches the London season at ita height. About the Becond week of August ahe goes to Newport, where she remains till quite late in September. Thence she journeys to her father's country borne and "builds up" in preparation for the New York season. She is called a bud—a debutante—in her first year, a society girl in her second, and is pronounced passe in her third. Her life is a constant series of entertainments. She rises late in the morning, goes to a 2 o'clock breakfast or luncneon in her mother's brougham, returns in time to make an elaborate toilet and be whirled through the park at 6, when she is brought back to dresB for dinner and the subsequent opera, reception, or ball, or perhaps all three.

At an early hour in the morning she BtepB out of her carriage, wrapped to the chin in furs, and falls wearily into the arms of her maid. Her manner is very "English." It is fashionable just now to be brisk, wide awake and jolly. The romantic girl, the novel-reading girl, the spirituelle girl, and the "accomplished girl are all out of style. The girl of the period is very bright, a bit horBey, and uncommonly attractive. If her flow of spirits is sometimes forced and palpably unreal, who can wonder? What would you have? Fatigue will overtake the strongest

Eventually Bhe marries in her own set, becomes one of the "married women beauties,'^ rideB to hounds, gees yachting with her husband, and brings up a family of well-bred boys and girls. Barely—very rarely, indeed—a bit of scandal tarnishes her name. Whether in London, Newport or New York, She is always as carefully guarded as a princesB. She never

^uee UUI»

VT Hliuut

1ICI

ollQJJDlVttO)

iier mother's eye is ever upon her. And the father? Does any one ask about tbe old man? He plugs away steadily in town eleven months in the year, making the money necessary for the maintenance of the girl.

Barnum's Bear-Man.

London News. This is the designation given tb on extraordinary youth now passing through London on his way to Mr. Barnum, the American Bhowman, who has purchased the right of exhibiting him in America for one year. The lad has been exhibited in Paris, Berlin and other continental capitals. His peculiarities are an extraordinary growth of silky fair hair, especially on the face, and an equally extraordinary deficiency of teeth. Unless it may be in the color of the hair, there is not the slightest resemblance to a bear in the boy. The growth of hair on the face especially about the eyes, nose and ears, does, however, strongly suggest the aspect of a terrier and the position of his four teeth suggests the resemblance of a dog. Proieasor Virchow, of Berlin, it is said, has lik ened him to the terrier monkey. The name bear-man has been given him fr.om his father, a man with similar peculiarities, who some ten years ago was exhibited on the continent as "the dog man." According to biB guardian, a Mr. Foster, tbe father and this lad, then about two years old, were discovered in one of the Russian government forests. The man, who is now dead, was a thorough savage and nothing could be ascertained from him to throw light on his antecendents or the history of the boy. The lad has been given the name ofTheodor Jewtichejew. He is of an iamiable disposition and is quick to learn. He has received some education in St Petersburg. He speaks German and knows a few words of French and English. He dances and plays the concertina and is greatly delighted when he evokes applause. At the

American Hotel, St. Martin's street, Leicester square, Theodor iB to be seen by doctors, anthropologists who may be interested in him and otners invited by his guardian, but his first public engagement is to be in America with Mr. Barnum

A Business Mail.

Chicago News. Yes, my dear daughter, I wish you would do your best to captivate the heart of our coachman." "And elope with him, papa?" "Yes, my dear." "Ah, I see, you dear, good papa, you want all the papers to say I am a fascinating beauty and the reigning belle*" "Well, of course, that will help a little, but that's not the main point." "What is the main point, papa?' "Well, you see, the papers will all say you are the.daughter of a miUionaire." "Well." "Well, that will enlarge my credit See Now run out to the stable, that's a good girl."

Sulphur Deposits in a Desert. According to The Knowledge there is a sulphur deposit at Djemsa, Suez, in a perfectly rainless desert on the African coast, veiy near the sea, and constituting a bill 600 feet high, whose sides are blasted down as in quarrying stone. Some 200 Arabs, employed under French engineers, succeeded in mining ten tons a day. A similar deposit t&cnrs at Ronga, 500 miles from Suez, ako near the coast of the African continent, ^hich differs only in being buried under other strata.

A Favorite Maxim ot Mr. Gladstone. Ijondon Standard.

At Deeaide the premier expressed a desire to be introduced to a bright little fellow, some six years old, in Highland dress, "because," he observed, '*it ia a favorite maxim of mine that very young people ought always to be introduced to very old people."

CURIOUS MURDERS IN AFRICA.

How a Magician Killed a Do*»» Wom« at Lagos. London Standard.

The last arriving mail steamer at LivV.A nnloTR

The last

ernool from

nfthA

females was laid to the account of Adeoshun, bnt at the trial, which took place on the 9th of July, he was charged with the willful murder of three women, vir: Mrs. Catherine Clegg, Mrs. Selena Cole and her sister.

The exact number of skeletonsi found in the bush was twelve, and of these thre* were identified as tbe females named, all of whom were natives, and occupied respectable positions in Lagos, two of them being the wives of na tive merchants.' A large number of witnesses were examined, the testimony of one female showing the modus operandi of the prisoner. The witness, whose name was Idown, had a very narrow escape of being one of Adeoshun's victims. Idown went to Adeoshun's house. He had numerous "charms" spread on the floor, among them being a small mud idol and several vials filled with powder. Adeoshun had a pistol which he fired at the idol. He then took something out of the idol, and together with a Bhilling dropped it into a vessel containing water, making the shilling into two shillings.

This was the great power his "charm" possessed of making articles double their original value. He urged Idown to bring him cloth and beads for that purpose, but she said she was not a trader. After this he wanted her to maBk her face, and on her refusing blew some of the powder from the vial to the wind and Idown became Bomewhat atupified. She went home and returned to Adeosbun's house with a sum of £10, together with a quantity of beads and cloth. Adeoshun told her to buy two fowls, two bottles of rum, one yard of white Croydon cloth, and two Kola nuts, and meet him at Ikoyi road. Ikoyi road is near to the place where the skeletons were found. It was 4 o'clock in the morning when the meeting was to take place.

Idown was to tell nobody of the matter, or the charms would not act, and the cloth was to be tied around her face. Tbe appointmezi was fortunately not kept, and three days afterward the prisoner was arrested. The statement of Idown corroborates, for the most part, the supposed plan which the prisoner adopted in carrying out his fiendish object, viz., to blindfold the women, place a fowl in each hand, get tbem to kneel down, and then dispatch them with some heavy weapon. Adeoshun denied the charge of murder, maintained a dignified demeanor in addressing the jury, and told them he was bold snd intrepid, having nothing to fear. The ury, however, brought in a verdict of guilty in all three instances, and asked that the prisoner be executed in public if sentenced to be hanged. The prisoner was sentenced to death.

Adeoshun was a native of Porto Navoo, and years ago was sold by the authorities to the king of Dahomey, one of whose executioners ho immediately became. The king of that place was, and no doubt is still, a bloodthirsty ruler, having frequent and fear ful human sacrifices. Escaping to Lagos, Adeoshun set up as a conjuror, a fetish priest, medicine man, and a worker of charms, in which capacity his victims visited him, and through which they lost their lives.

YOUNG DUO DE MORNYi

The latest Exploit ot a French Titled Fool—His Father's Tabooed Statue Paris Letter to San Francisco Argonaut

After ten days' meditation an idea struck him (or was suggested to him by some other equally transcendant wit), which, with the assistance of sundry lunatics like himself, he proceeded to rive effect to. You may not know that a statue of the late Due de Moray, which had been erected at Deauville, was for political reasons some years since removed from its pedestal and consigned to a cellar. This statue young hopeful and his friendB resolved to set up again. By bribing some servants at the Mairie they managed to get possession of tbe statue. In the dead of night last Saturday, after a soiree at the Casino, the Duke might have been seen creeping through the darknesB, in a tail-coat and white choker, to thecenterof

the

We were talking of the youthful Due

de Morny just now. All the world has

week. He has a talent for getting him MU

sleeping watering-place. With

him was a group of other men in tailcoats and chockers, all with bad colda in their heads (for they bad forgotten their overcoats), and all looking very mysterious. On second thought it was a pity they had not assumed their outer garments, for they would then have made a pretty parody of the longcoated conspirators in "La Fille de Mme. Augot." Presently they were met by a man wheeling a truck, on which truck lay a statue, which together they unloaded and began to hoist on to the vacant pedestal. Just then, however, came a tramp of feet (as at Mile. Lange's again) they heard a pistol cocked, and interrupting their task, saw themselves surrounded by a dozen gendarmes, led by the local Commissairo de Police. "In the name of the ^aw!" said the Commissaire, pointing bia pistol at the conspirators.

And

A SINGULAR DIVORCE.

Judge Blackford's Servant Marries His Niece—Tbe Beauties ot Slavery. Lafayette Leader.

But the moat singular divorce run across by the reporter was the petition filed by Thomas Cox, asking separation from Catharine Jane Cox—both colored. Thomas' complaint iuna after thin wise: Your orator, Thomas Cox, a of color, respectfully represents that he has resided in the Stats of Indiana for more than twenty years that he was raised- entirely ignorant of whom his nearest blood relations and kindred consist that when quite a boy, his master, Dr. Cox, removed to Kentucky, and afterward to Indiana, where be settled near Corydon, bringing with him your orator and other slaves— among them, the present wife of yonr orator. That soon after going to Corydon, his master, under the then existing laws of the state of Indiana, bound out yonr orator as a servant, for a term of years, to Isaac Blackford, Esq., tbe premnt chief justice of tbe state of Indiana that be remained in the service of said chief justice for the

full term for which he had been bonnd, at the expiration of which he was set at liberty. Several years after he renewed bis acquaintance with his present wife, and December 25, 1884, at Indianapolis,

arriving mail steamer at was married to her, and haa since con-

Adeoshun for the murderof numerous mortification and the interwomen ftt Lagos, on the West African

THE

Africa brought particulars tinned to live with her, until a few city an aged gentlercan, who has apenfc

trial and sentence of the native months previous, "when both your or- the greater part of seventy five years ofthetnalandOTntenceoi

ator

and said defendant, much to their

rnp^0n

xhe tilling of at least a doren

IRON CROWN BARDY.

The

OF LOM-

Ceremony One Must JSndore In Order to Bee It October Atlantic. &•*$..

The cathedral contains several relics of great antiquity, among them the iron crown wbicD has pressed so many auguBt brows, from Constantino's to Napoleon's. On asking to see it I was startled to learn that the cost would be five lire (or francs), exactly five times as much as the most expensive exhibition, sacred or secular, I had hitherto seen in Italy, and ten times the sum usually exacted. Bat I ceased to be surprised when the sacristan called a custodian, the custodian called a priest, and the priest came—a tall robust, unshaven personage, with some native dignity, like Father Tuck—accompanied by acolytes bearing four ereat silver candelabra and other sacred properties. The candlesticks were placed on the balustrade of a side-chapel where the relic is kept taperB were put into them and lighted, and the vessels arranged in order. The priest then recited a short orisonbefore the altar, above which is a sort of press, the size of an ordinary wardrobe, with a very poor gilded alto nl evo on the door, of angelB bearing the instruments of the passion. The custodian then mounted a ladder and opened the first door, which disclosed a second one with two leaves of beautiful gilded bronze work these, being opened showed a rare curtain of golden tissue, and that, falling, revealed the treasurers—a great cross set with precious stones and crystal, and other objects which I did not notice, perturbed as I was by the ceremony and tbe attention which it drew upon me, poor solitary, Bheepish Anglo-Saxon, from the rest of the people in church. The famous coronial, inclosed in a circular glass case, was then taken down and displayed to me by the elder acolyte, who recited its history for my ediheation. The foundation and origin of the crown is a narrow iron band, believed by the devout to have been out of a nail which pierced our Savior hand this is incased within a broad, thick gold circlet inlaid with three rows of immense jewels in a splendid, simple, enameled Byzantine pattera. One of the most significant facts in its mem orabie history is that it_wa8 never taken out of Lombardy until this century. What Charlemagne did not do, what Charles V. did not do, what Napoleon with his stupendous audacity did not do, the unchromcled Francis Joseph II. presumed to do. He had the vulgar impudence to carry tnis venerable relic and symbol of universal sovereignty to Vienna, where it remained for seven years. It was restored by Victor Emanuel, who might most justly have used it to crowp himself king of united Italy, but refrained with that curious mixture of personal modesty and want oi imagination which was a characteristic in common between himBelf and another brave man, Gen. Grant.

I looked my fill and thought my thoughts then the case was replaced, the priest repeated a Prayer» the acolyte swung a censer, the glittering

jyj.e BWung

a censer,

aco

tf11—J oViniit talimt 1® inKwito from his sire—and does not seem to care much whether the tone of the conversation he gives rise to from time to time is contemptuous or the contrary. The telegraph flashes such odd things across the ocean nowadays that it may have informed you already of the last achievement of this bright, interesting sprig of ducal intellect. M. le Due had won considerable notoriety by going about dressed as a ballet dancer and breaking the heart of la belle Feyghine, who killed herself (poor, foolish girl) for love of him. :3ut people were beginning to forget these feats. MonBieur de Due did not want to be forgotten. He knew that unless he did something eccentric now and then he would be indistinguishable from any other scion of nobility, and on coming down to stay at hia mother's villa a fortnight ago, he set the thing he calls his brains to work to devise something very, very funny. ,. .,

curtain

been talking of him over here this the wooden one was locked, Jina^ tne

ma kuiwhus

rose, the bronze doors closed,

Bhow was at an end. And I went on mv wav to the lake of Como, having seen tne iron crowd oi liombardy witn candle, book, and bell.

STYIilSH MANTLES.

Elaborate Wraps to be Worn by Women the Coming Season Philadelphia Times.

A most elegant little mantelet for this season is of black cashmere, Hned with gold colored satin and embroidered in gold in a particularly graceful lily pattern. A gold cord with tassels is attached to one end of the mantelet, ^hich is finished with agold and black fringe about tbe edges, and is worn thrown carelessly over the shoulders.

Very pretty is a mantle of rather thin damasse, lined with bright color. It is pleated in back, in front and at the shoulder on top of the wide, flowing aleeves. The front hangs pleats, straight down from neck to far below waist line, and the fullness attained by tbe pleats in the back is most gracefully arranged in looped draperies, the edge being finished with lace in the design of the damasse silk. Lace alBO finishes the sleeves, and the mantle

UOA

fl°Very

at the name of the

law the bold gentlemen in white chokers looked very frightened. How ever, they were let on easuyf with

summons and a procc* verbal. M.!le Due slunk back to bis maternal villa, with his coat-tails between his legs, and the statue of bis father was left lying ignoniniously in the road, beside its pedestal, till tbe morning, when it was quietly taken back to the cellar.

a mantelet of black

Muscovite silk embossed in roses, it is peculiar in shape, having square ends in front, cut up round over hips and with short box-pleated basque akirt in back. The shoulder sleeveB have epaulettes of passementerie and chenille, with jetted tassels. The front is ornamented to match. At the neck are double rows of satin pleatings, witn inside lace frill, while the edges of skirt and shoulder Bleeves are finished with fall of handsome chenille fringe.

Particularly elegant is an evening an of el re re lace put on in the most effective conceits. Ihe waist over the shoulders haa cape efiect, attained by double ruflie of the lace, while center of back and front fchow points formed ot tne lace. The skirt portion is curiously fashioned of festoons, coquilles and fans of lace over tbe velvet founda-

little shoulder cape of Btripe velvet has pleated sleeves and is hniehed *ith pleating of lace put on very full. This style cape is pretty when made of some bright color in silk or satin, with lace net over it and lace edge to match, with finish of ribbons or

elegant mantleB for a little

later in the season are in damasks and brocades, black and colors, in various shapes and most effectively trimmed with paesmenterie, chenille and jet (rinses and ovn&meDtsj also, witn lace black or colored, to matrh tbe material in its prominent hues.

Xbe First Thermometer. "It seems now certain," says Prof, Tait, "that tbe first inventor of the thermometer was Galileo. His ther

The patient took the bulb in his mouth

THE COLliAPSB OP CONCEPTION

The Terrible Barttaquake that SwalJ lowed Up tbe City. San Francisco Calh

There is at present stopping in

of the mutual happiness

thereof, they learned for the first time that said defendant was actually a daughter of the brother of your orator, since which time they nave not lived together and the most consoling reflection connected with their unfortunate alliance is the fact that no chUdren have been born to them from their marriage." Divorce granted.

"liathid

an unusually adventurous

lift*

abroad. The gentleman's name is A« A. Holcomb, and he is now on hid way East to end his days, as he says, amid tbe Bcenes of his youth, after an absence of a quarter oi a century. In view of tbe interest recently excited in earthquakes in the Uuited States, Call reporter visited Mr. Holcomb and asked him to relate some of hia experiences during South American shocks. "I will tell you," Baid he, "oE the destruction of the City of Concept cion. The day was a burning one. In the afternoon a slight shock of earth" quake occurred, but nothing was thought of it As night approached the heat appeared to become more intense. I retired to my hammock early that night I do not know how long I slept, but I was awakened by the cries of many people. I arose to find the city in confusion. I looked at my watch. It was 11:30. The people were preparing to leave town and geek the highlands of the mountains. Great distress prevailed among families members were missing and were sought for with wails and lamentations. Tbe heat had become so that it was like sitting in an oven and undergoing gradual baking. "I remember I packed what availsbles I could find in my valise and prepared to join in the general migration. Sut departure had been delayed too long. I had no sooner placed my foot upon the main street of the town than there came a distant rumbling from the west It increased in Bound until it resembled the approach of a band of horsemen over a wooden bridge. At the same moment the earth seemed to me to rise up perpendicularly and crash against the sky. I heard the shrieks that went up from the fleeing people as I was tossed like a bauble by the rocking earth. I recollect no more. When I recovered conscioasness it was yet night and I heard the groans of wounded people in agony all about me. Even as I opened my eyes the earth trembled underneath me with the restless motion of the sea. "All that night I lay in that spot, agonised by fears ana terrors indescribable. It waa useless to move or attempt to do anything in the darkness. There were shocks of more or less severity every few minutes, and as each shiver passed I heard groans of pain and expressions of fear on every side. I hailed the first flush ot dawnintht east with a fervent prayer of gratitude. The sun rose over the Cordilleras like a circular plate of brass and revealed a dreadful scene. The town of Conception lay in ruins and hundreds of its people were dead. Great fissures and openings in the earth were visible here and there, from which volumes of gaseeus matter poured forth. How many were swallowed up in the fissures and opening will never be known. "The suffering and destruction at the City of Concepcion was only a mite in comparison to what took place in other partB of the province, some seven miles distant from Conception, a tidu wave some forty feet in height rolled in from the ocean and deluged the place. Thousands were swept away. The following day the Bhore was strewn with corpses and masses of dead fish.

A German Processor Lost on the Alps. Pall Moll Gaxette.

About three weeks ago a German professor, Herr Dornheim, of Mannheim, suddenly disappeared while making a tour on the Alps of Vorariberg, near the lake of Constance. It was supposed that an accident had befallen him, and the surmise has now been verified by the discovery of his body at the foot of the precipitous western side of tbe Widderstein mountain. Prof. Dornheim, who waa going through the mountains from Bregenz to Lindau, appears to have lost his way in a dense mist, and to have fallen over the mountain side into the valley below, a distance of upward of six hundred feet.

When discovered the corpse was in an advanced state of decomposition, and the medical examination showed that the deceased had in his fall suffered mortal injuries, including broken limbs, ribs and skull. On lifting up the body apiece of paper was found, with a few words in pencil to the following effect: "Telegraph Prof. Dornheim, Mannheim. My last thoughts are of Antonie and mother. Terrible fall."

Telegraph in America'.

further adorned with festoons, loops and bows of ribbon. A r^hing of lace completes the garment at the throat.

Rather unique

London Engineering. The telegraph appears to have made more progress in the United States than in any other country. The num-. ber of American telegraph offices in 1882 was 12,917, and the number of telegrams forwarded during the year was 40,581,177. The number of telegraph offices in Great Britain and Ireland in 1882 was 5,747, the number of telegrams forwarded being 32,965,029. Germany bad 10,803 offices, the number of tele-, grams forwarded being 18,372,173., France had 6,319 offices, the number of telegrams forwarded being 26,260,124.. Russia has 2,819 offices, tne number of telegrams forwarded being 9,800,201. Belgium has 835 offices, the number of telegrams forwarded being 4,066,843.. Spain has 647 offices, the number of telegrams forwarded being 2,830,186. British India had 1025 offices, the number of telegrams forwarded being 2^032,603. Switzerland had 1,160 offices, Italy 2590 and Austria 2636. The number of telegrams forwarded in these three last mentioned countries was 3,046,182,7,026,287 and 6,626,203 respectively.

One Indian, Three Lunches, Three Quarts. Austin (Nov.) Reveille.

The improvidence of Indians is proverbial. Tbey toil not if they can help it, neither do they spin, unless it is around a kitchen about meal time. They take no thought of the morrow, but will gorge their capacious stomachs to the highest notch, utterly indiffert of tbe coming day. To feast ono day and fast

six

tnermomever otnergroo oouau^u, mometer was an air thermometer, con- j)0-8 Jjj not respond and gave up tne Eg ofa bXwita a tube dipping

into a vessel of liquid. The first use to

which it was applied waa to ascertain the temperature of the human body.

Alta

LangnAfte of the Missionaries. A Hindoo 4»d aNew Zealander met upon a deck of a missionary ship. They been converted from their heathenism, and were brothers in Christ, bnt they could not apeak to each -other. They pointed to their Bibles, shook hands, and smiled at other's faces, but that waa not all. At last a happy thought occurred to the Hindoo. with a sudden joy he exclaimed, "Hallelujah!" The New Zealander, in delight, cried out, "Amen!" Those two words, not found in their heathen tongues, were to them the beginning of "one language and one speech."

is a pretty fair average,

ihoogh hardly up to the Indian

wish?

Night before last the

motor crew tried to measure the appetite of a guileless Piute of ten sage brush summers, and to bis demand for uomething to eat gave him their lunches. Hale, Kice, and Memgan emptied their buckets and tbe young red T"tt" swallowed all and drank th ee quarts of tea and coffee mixed. He then took a jaunt down to Battle Mountain, but appeared again iast night to see if he could not other grub bonanza, but the nulroad

co^lract

for filling such a capacious

maw,

Remarkable Bunch of Apple*.

California.

and tbe air, expanding, forced the dayB ago S. A. Barker, of feanliquid down the tube, tbe hqrnd p. county, sent to deacending as the temperature of the ta Clara county, bulb arose. From the height at which the liquid finally Btood in the tabe, mo U41UU "v ., tbe physician conld judge whether or not the disease was of the nature of a fever."

H. McCol-

lister, the chief cle* of the Buss House, a twig containing

nine

apples

weighing on an average six ounces each The apples were as closely clustered together as grapes, the ing

not

more than six inches JonR-

Everv one who has seen the specimen pronounces it remarkable, even for California.

A Forthcoming Earthquake# New York Troth. There are four miles of tunneling under Halletl's reef, near Hell Gate, and along the sides and roof of this tunnel are not less than 250,000 tw* and three inch holes, drilled in Jg, rock. It will reauire $360,000 |P_ of explosives to nil these holes& about a yew from now the spj^^* be struck and the greateat earthquake on record will l0" &

iii

W-f