Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 20 December 1885 — Page 4

4.

•i.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

I £ro mot fer spring on his fickle wing K* and bod* be borne 0«aMi that w** his treacheiaoe

F'

«re the mora.

!4t,k»IHwnitMnlV. ,.•

M* rm• •hm& -x

mood

an how

(Is la jwox tape, and with wry

gnm-

... SCO WWII wttbar yaar ysrcagast flower.-v«

Ty 9k fiimer snn to his bright boat* r-in, £e shillt* nerer asngbt by me ^•t-n h»'» disamed by a closd I oan laugh stood,

A rwe sot how sulky ho be! in a-.rlinf child is tbe madness wild

1,\M mn\a

in fl-io# ferer's train

|An"dyo^' '°t® t«t atronj it doesn't last If yon *•»*, ^9 «aiuj jtaT* fonnd

to

their pain.

A wild h«rvMt aigkt, by the tranquil light Of «se4wet and gentle mown, 0fca a IMr sweetsr Sheen for ma, I wean, fkM tin bread sad anblashing noon. 0t

J**rr

leaf awake*s

aj

grief,

!m i* listh beneath the tree ga l-» Mtarna air be aerer so fair, It by wn suans agreea with me.

BM May I taall oat for ChrktroSs stoat, rty, tha trae and the bold A fearof* 1 Asia, aad with might Mid main, (nl-M ohaers fisr this Christmas eld I

Pll a*er him ia with a merry dia _t shall gladdea his Jeyaoa heart. I we'll keep him op, while there's a bite or sop, ia failewrikip geod we'll peit

I pride, ha saerns to hide

ftjaaaaak]*!. J&iaJetef 1 W*fn

1

his hard-weather soars disgraee, fer there's aiaeh the, •aaie traee f)a the cheeks of ear bravest tan. pi* aspia I sim« till thereof doth ring,

1

And it eekeee from wall ta wall, the (teat eld wight, fair weleeae to-night, As the tiig ef the seasoas all 1

Oulpi DiOKaws.

TBLB PEARL OF FAITH.

It ra hi tke fall of '62. Valley and aad stream were bathed in aatumnal 0hF Matket earth glowed ia the ef her productiveness, and the fall. Yet the voice of the aaft the acme of the reaper were

The harvesters had fled. The lima were ssareking into Kensad taking possession of the pasts of the anion army. A altra spread ever tke country, ay* the aatioa were tnrned upon If •mith'a bald Kentucky invasion, fba-borders of Ohio and Indiana were exyaed to tke invaders, and the JMple, realising 'he danger, the jpiuiaars of these states issued +mi smartens sailing every taan to AMpt ta protect tke frontiers. Louisville taa ill sallying paint of the ftMfc There kad net been a grander or impeaiag gathering of our army 0MI tke breaking ont of the war. It W a sight never t* be forgotten, and gmple eaiae from all parte to behold the 0Mt«ele of military splendor. I of a party whe same to Cincinnati with expectationii of following the Ohio fMpi to Louisville, and never shall I foqpk the absorbing excitement of those bloody yet glorious days I Cincinnati was tke military depot of Ohio and Indiana regiments hither flocked the vatarans to Ike standard of the gallant Law Wallaoe. The streets were threnged with blue coats a swaying phalanx of

e»depots.

dited, serious, grieving people blocked Six trains had left for Louisville that day, add the seventh was pull fcg ant when we found seats in E rear ooack half filled with soldiers. It was not until wa left the city Itaaits that we became conscious of a woman's presenoe. She sat near tbe stove, a modest, sweet-faced, humblelooking woman. A babe, not more than three weeks old, slumbered on her bosom, while two children, the eldest could not have bean 4, clung to her skirts. Her f«ea wore a calm, almost stoic expression, Md she aoemed indifferent to the suspense Mid anxiety of the oompany round her. lfa Beam a in terse ted in the children, eoMaquaatlv wa soon wen the mother's Mfidaaoo. Blu was on her way to Louis tule ta iJid kar kaskaad. He had enlisted ia tfce army tho previous spring kad bm hoard from kim since she was deatitato. Sho had waited and hoped patiently for his return, but 'days made veeh% weeks reundod into men this, yet he •ante net. Then sho heard the call to arms. All tke able-bodied men round her kaekwoods kome buckled on their •MOT. It was night when she heard Aeir mvfflad tread pass ker cottage door, and, gatkerinc her babies together, she fallewod tho departing troopa. She had paid hot fare, and oeats was all she aad new la tke world. "But I will fiad him," she said, "John vas a good man. Ho will not let his jflldroa starve." "What was the namker of your husband's regiment?" asked a gentleman. "I dea't know," she replied, undisturbed by ear expreaeioa of sympathy. "Do you new tke name of his commander T" "Wojrir." "What makes yoa tkink jwa will find Ua at LouiavilleT" "I know it. He will bo there." "l(y food woman," said our spokeeAMM, "1 am afraid year ]onrney will be la fnthlom oaw. How can yoa hope te Wkd yoar kaabaad, oao maa ont of an aaaay at twenty tkeaaand, when you doa't avea know tke namker ef kis reeiment

It will ke like lookiag for a needle in a W_sta«k.M "I will lDad kim," was kar ooafident reftr- Ike keadad aot oar smiles of in(mdality. She was amarently unmoved W ear sympathy and indifferent to our OAMS of asairtaaoe. Bke simply smiled ia tke faae of ker sloapiag bake and drew im ekildiaa claaar. There waa a pathos, a kaaefem la tke waman's eoaditien and Ma^aaa that appealed to every man. Oawaan wees kaajat fraternal feelings unkaawBi wkea psaai smiles oa a land aad wealth aad lnxary atapefiea tke vekler, dm kdader iaetiaata. Be every heart was ipsa Tat she kaedad aet. Her eyes were bey«ed they kad reached the end af tke jearaey and were looking over the aombiaed forces ef our army—looking far Joha. •ka waa aa igaorant, simple-minded wemaa aaver before had she been bejmd flia limits of her backwoods home. At tke train sued along we discussed the --fepsikilltiee of tke success of her errand, aajtvgaally suggested that the beet plan ta panVo-whoB^she reached the city was to aaevre kar Ibdgings in some quiet faartor wkere ske could leave her babes while ske searched for her husband. This fdaa was told ker, and we assured her wo weald par the expenses, and, if at the aad ei a wool she had not found John or mj olow to kis wkereabouis. we would fwaiah kar transportation home. Sift •or proposal, bat her oonfiaashakeu. ahe repeated in trasting way "Do net trouble will fiad him." ^glistened in the morning BUD•Uwe, reflecting ia its boeom the Lnlwwrke, eampe, and floating ensigns of our mrwey. Far aad near, like tbe ouatrotohed wfnie* of a h«ga bird of free dom, the tents noaped above tbt hillocire al oank roisod along the wnthen* pW«It was a gtortaas, inspiria* n»". kant apoa "r ryes thei ei* moraiet* eiro^Ml ?^e OniAll warld around, -v i* a ary: "Mr Ood! It waa tl.r, mOm, kaiiitraat wont's cry. In an I aB «f« twaad to fciir. A smi'e I

lighted np her face—a smile of almost angelic light—and shading her eyes with her hard/brown hand, she pointed toward the solitary fignre ia bine on sentinel duty at the end of the pontoon bridge. "I knew it, I knew it," she cried "I told you so, for I prayed. I knew God would hear me. He alwayB hears Jane Ostot's prayers."

Silence fell on all. I have passed through many tonching, tragic scenes since that autumn morning of '62, but never have I beheld hard-fisted, bronzedfaced men touched so tearfully as was that company* of soldiers that sat transfixed before the e/idtnee of the faith pf that simple woman's prayer. The train stopped. We saw her and her "babes clas]ed in John's strong arms, and as we passed she granted us a smile of thanks. "1 prayed lry prayer was heard," she said.

Methinks some more prayers ascended that night to the throne of the Most High—prayers from lips long silent, prayers from hearts long unmoved. Poor Jane Ostot I She knew nothing of theory, nothing of science or isms she was neither'an "intellectual giant," nor "a gifted child of song," yet more than tbe riches of Crete, the wisdom of Solomon, was hers. Did she not cherish in her humble boeom the pearl above price?

CONVERSATIONAL RESOURCES

How to Become Proficient ill the Art

A trying ordeal it is for a woman to break away from her home, where she has always lived and where everything and almost everybody whom she sees is Familiar, and enter a strange home, where nearly all are strangers and where inany new acquaintances are to be acquired. Next to her care that she shall look well, which is usually easily provided for, is a woman's concern that she shall appear to be intelligent, an end that she regards as of uncertain attainment, because, her feelings greatly predominating over her intellect. she contrasts herself with the other sex, whose intellect is more conspicuous than hers. A natural timidity, arising from almost exclusive home experience, is sure to magnify every difficulty^ and she approaches the ordeal with misgivings.

The principles that underlie conversational ability fully cover this esse. The very first requisite of ail, compared with which all the .est are insufficient, is confidence, without which no one can talk well, neither privately nor publicly. It comes in various ways to diflerent people, being inborn in some, knocked into others by contact with the world, and in a con versational way, in the case of still others, often acquired by practice under disciplining circumstances. Bearing upon all these instances is the command that one has over the language, and his ready use of words. In short, good conversationalists are born as well as made.

With inborn assurance and loquacity, no one will falter in conversation, and, though his part may not be well SUPtained, he will be likely to monopolize attention. If to these be added practice, an extensive knowledge of the world, varied reading and thoughtful intelligence, spiced with story-telling powers, a person will shine in conversation above most of his fellows and may pardonably take the lead in it. At the other extreme, one whose power over^language is very limited, who has been so home-keeping that he knows little of the world, who is timid and fears to trust himself in the mazes of connected sentences, and never has conversed much, will be a failure conversationally, no matter how intelligent he may be. The average person is a mean between these extremes, and such we will assume our correspondent to be.

The average lady will gain confidence when she finds herself constantly where she needs it, and, with ordinary command of language, she may decidedly improve her conversational ability but whether she may hope ever to become a leader is doubtful—ceitainly not if she i3 in the presence of a gifted talker, though otherwise she may train herself to take a stand in the front rank among others. Practice uust be persisted in constantlyj taking advantage ot every opportunity to converse, and making a study of the matter. Newspapers should be read thoroughly, for they supply subjects that are timely, and often much in addition. Taking care to note the subjects that may be conversed, about, the reader will cultivate her memory and provide herself with ready material for discussion. The fresh and best literature of the day outside of newspapers should be treated in the same way.

Ladies usually narrate the incidents of their life, both great and small, remote and recent, feelingly and entertainingly, and these may be depended upon for conversational stock, where proper. They should be enjoined to acquire an intelligent comprehension of the affairs of the town or city where they live, of their state and even of the nation, not only current events, but historical. Thus prepared, the average lady, keeping in good practice, will have a capital start for conversational conquest, and will then be able to do well on a higher plane of subjects of a more abstract and intellectual nature. Te sustain a conversation of this kind much reading of the beet sort and considerable study are necessary, the particulars of which would need a special article for their treatment.

With all these preparations in gaining confidence, in practice and in providing tke subject-matters, our correspondent ought to become a very good conversationalist. But it should bis remembered that ene should possess an art in conversation beside talking—the art of making others talk. One who is a genius in this social duty may monopolize most of the time and so charm his hearers that they will be content to be silent but if he is not a genius he may make himself obtrusive and call forth unpleasant criticisms. Therefore, to give others an opportunity to talk, who may stand in aknger of finding none, a talented conversationalist w01 ascertain theif favorite and most familiar fields of knowledge for purposes of enticements. Good suggestions of subjects for others' conversation sre sometimes more advisable for one than taking the lead. However easy conversation may be under other circumstances, the most unfortunate and unsatisfactory attempt will be found to be in a miscellaneous small assemblage, endeavoring to sustain only one subiect, when- the assemblage ought to be divided into groups, each engrossed with its own topics. Conversational power, then, our correspondent will find, may be acquired, even among strangers, by one who is riot gifted in this paiticular, by assiduous attention to the matter, by foxing confidence throngh making deupon it, by unremitttirg pracmaterials in many vs-ii by •niiny to th'*e nr*s and .ifcii.-. Ili.it i? in {i.'.r:

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1. ,-4r,

births

vt *W ii-ths,

FACTS ABOUT UffCLE SAM.

There are now 178 carrier delivery poetoffices, employing 4,400 carriers. The number of passengers carried on American steam vessels during the last year was about 600,000,000, against 300,000 in 1852.

Tbe postal receipts at the 2,233 presidential postofiSces is more than threequarters pf the revenue of the poetoffioe department.

ot

Being Agreeable.

Good Housekeeping. A young lady, whose marriage ts in prospect, writes to as that she would like to become expert in conversation. She realizes that as a wife Bbe mtjat carry herself with dignity and setf-possession, and that her conversation ought to be ready And intelligent. What she particularly desires is the ability to talk with "a whole oompany," and even to be the leader of conversation. She fears that the meeting of many strangers in her now home will appall her conversational powers, which in her own home rarely failed her. The foundation of a new home circle is in the special province of Geod Housekeeping, and we will respond to the letter on this page.

Daring the last year the government lost nearly $11,000 on deficient yardage in the twine purchased for the use of the postoffice department.

It cost the people of this'country $6,500,000 to fted and blanket the Indians last year.' In 1882 the cost of these wards reached nearly $10,000,000

Congress is not such an expensive institution, directly, as some people imagine. Three millions and a little more a year are sufficient to pay its bills.

Pensions is the one item of public expenditure which eeehis to have no peace basis. The pension estimate for the year beginning July 1 next is $75,000,000.

Government now maintains 2,000 lighthouses, lightships and stakelights on coasts and rivers, besides innumerable fog signals and whistling and other buoys.

During the last year the government's expenses were $16,000,000 gredter than in 1884, and the receipts $25,000,000 less. There was, nevertheless-, a surplus of $17,000,000.

The United States mails last year carried 50,000 tons of newspaper and period* ical matter, not estimating the free ciroci' lation allowed within the county ot pub lication.

Since 1816 the government has spent the snug sum of $225,0b0,000 in taking care of the noble red man, not counting the cost of killing or hunting him with the military.

Government receipts during the last year were exactly the same as in 1865, excluding loans. But in 1865 the expenditures were $1,217,000,000, against only $260,000,000 in 1885.

Exclusive of Alaska, about three-fifths of the national domain has been sold or subjected to contract or grant. Of the remaining two-fifths, a considerable portion is either mountain cr desert.

The United States army now consists of 2,150 officers and 24,700 men. Most of the big nations of the effete east sup port armies containing more officers than there are privates in our little band.

The sinking fund is 1 per cent, of the entire public debt. This- must be 6et aside each year and used in the redemption of bonds. To it is added all fractional currency redeemed by the treasury.

The government's receipts during the year ending June 30, '85, were $322,000, 000— a little more than a million for each working day. Uncle Sam is still ahead of any plumber or coal dealer in tbe country.

The exports of domestic merchandise from tbe United States to foreign countries last year amounted to $726,000,000 the imports were $580,000,000, showing a balance of $146,000,000 in favor of Yankeeland.

On the first day of last month there were in this country 2,700 national banks —the largest number since the passage of the national bank law of 1863. Of the 3,400 banks started under this law only 105 have failed.

Uncle Sam's building operations are nearly as large as those of Chicago. He is now practically at work upon eiehty new structures, scattered all over the country, and designed to cost from $25, 000 to $1,500,000.

It cost the government a million and a half last year to maintain the District of Columbia, the law being that the government shall pay one-half of the expenses of the District, and the inhabitants thereof the other half.

Uncle Sam looks pretty carefully after the welfare of his subjects who go down to the sea in ships. He maintains more than 200 life-saving stations, the crews of which saved more than 2,000 lives during the year, losing eleven.

June 30th last' there were 51,252 postoffices in this country, 2,233 of these being filled by presidential appointment. New York has a greater number of presidential offices than any other state —213 —Illinois being next with 181.

The revenue marine service (guarding coasts, inspecting merchant vessels, visiting lighthouses, etc.. under direction of treasury department) is larger than most people think. It contains a fleet of thirtynine vesselB, manned by more than 1,000 men.

About one man in ten of all those who enlisted in the late war are reported as receiving a pension, exclusive ot the dependents oi deceased soldiers. On the 1st of July, 1875, the number of pension ers was 234,821, and the increase within the ten years next thereafter was 110,304.

One-third of the public debt bears no interest. The interest bearing debt is $1,270,000,000. Two hundred and eighteen millions of this bears 3 per cent, $250,000,000 4£ per cent, and $738,000,000 4 per cent. Sixty-five millions of Pacific railway bonds bear 6 per cent, interest.

Of the entire amount of customs duties collected last year, 70 per cent, was collected from the following articles of import Sugar and molasses, 29 wool and its manufactures, 15 silk and its manufactures, 8 iron and steel and their manufacture^ 7 cotton manufactures, 6 flax, hemp and jute and their manufactures, 5.

Sugar and molasses lead the list of imports, with a value of nearly $77,000,000, or 13 per cent, of the whole. Coffee is next, with $46,000,000, or 8 per cent. Wool third, a million dollars lower, and silk fourth. The export of raw cotton is $100,000,000, and the import of manufactured cotton, $27,000,000.

Uncle Sam has $400,000,000 in his strong box, and in this respect is not hard up. But he owes $1,848,000,000, and is therefore $1,448,000,000 behind the world. Fifty-five millions of people are his indorsers, however, and his credit is pretty good the world over. He can get trusted for anything he wants.

We are now in the midst of a government fiscal year. The reports are for the year ending June 30 last Estimates are given for the remainder of this year and for the year to come. A surplus of $24,OOOjOOO is expected this year, and, curiously enough, a deficit of nearly the same sum for the year ending June 30, 1887.

Our Indian population, exclusive of those in Alaska, is reported as numbering 260,000, nearly all being located on lands set apart for their use and occupation, aggregating over 134,000,000 of acres. As this is more than 500 acres to each Indian, buck, squaw, pappoose. warrior or half-breed, tne tribes should not starve.

Uncle Sam paid out during 1885 a million a week for interest on the public debt Even at that he got off easier than he has in any year since 1863. In 1867 he paid out for this purpose $144,000,000, 9 sum nearly equal to his present total expenses, excluding interest and sinking fund. Even as recently as 1880 the interest burden was $95,000,000.

The pension office is one of UncleSam's biggest concerns. Tt bares upon its rolls the names of 345,000 persons, of whom 241,000 are army invalids and 78,000 widows and minor children of deceased soldiers. The survivors of the war of 1812 are still with us to the number of -'.5, whilt the widows of those who served 1 i-O.e war number 17,000.

Our watchful Uncle employs 150 men

THE EX i'iiiffieiib, -JMUttiiU aaOTJfi, SUNDAY, DJiXJiiMBEK 20, i»S«.

to inspect steamboat boilers, and examine masters, engineers and pilots. These men inspected 5,300 steamers during the jrear, ana did their work so carefully that only thirty-one accidents occurred, causing the loss of 133 lives. This is the smallest loss yet Recorded, being but one life to every forty-three vessels inspected.

In 1795 the government's expenditures were four millions' in 1805, six millions in 1815, twenty-seven millions in 1825, eleVen millions in 1835, seventeen millions in 1845,- twenty-two millions in 1855, fifty two millions in 1865, twelve hundred millions in 1875, one hundred and seventy millions, and in 1885, twg hundred and fifty millions. These figures exclude the interest on the public debt

Cotton is still the leading article ot/export, being 30 per cent, of the fr^ole. The cotton exports were: Unmanufactured, $202,000,000 manufactured, $12,000,000. Next to cotton fe breadstufis,$160,000,000, or 22 per cent of the whole. Provisions Ate third, with- $107,000,000, or 15. per cent Most of the breadstuff's and nearly all of the provisions pass through the city of Chicago. Oil is fourth importance, with $54,000,000, or 7J per cent, tobacco being fifth, with $ per cent

Uncle Sam takes in a good deal of money in the cdui$e Jf a year. We are all taxpayers, and we ought to know where these three hundred and twentytwo millions come from. Ninety per cent of the revenues, or $294,000,000, are from from customs and internal revenue taxes, $181,000,000 coming from the customs houses. Sales of public lands turn in $5,500,000, tax on national banks, $3,000,000 profit on coinage, etc., $6,000.000, and fees[( consular,"patents tnd lands), $4,000,000.

Uncle Sam's expenses during the last year were almost a million a day for each business day. That this republic is not ungrateful is shown by the fact that the pensions items lead* the list with $56,000,000 next is miscellaneous, including public buildings, lighthouses, collecting tne revenue, 'etc., $54,000,000 interest on the public debt, $51,000,000 the sinking fund, $46,000,000 military, including rivers, harbors ana arsenals, $43,000,000 civil expenses (congress, judiciary, etc.), $24,000,000 navy, $16,000,000 Indians, $6,000,000 foreign intercourse, $5,000,000, and District of Columbia, $3,500,000.

SWALLOWED AN OPEN KNIFE

A Young Han Has a Startling Experience, But Comes Ont All Bight Saoramento (Cal.) Becord-Vnion.

On Thursday last John Eckley, a 19-year-old boy, who lives at Eckley station, about one mile this side of Valejo Junction, swallowed & knife with the blade open. He was immediately taken to San Frtncisco and placed under charge of a physician, and, as the knife was in his stomach, the case was considered of a most serious nature. W. H. H. Willey, Wells, Fargo & Co.'s agent between this city and San FrancisGo, is a particular friend of the unfortunate lad. Mr. Willey, aboUt noon yesterday, called at the doctor's office and saw his friend sitting upon the sofa. He greeted him" with "Hello, Johntay how's the kniffc?" "Oh," the knife's all right," replied young Eckley "I have it here in my pocket. Do yoa wish to see it and, reaching into his pocket, brought forth a small pearl-handled pocket-knife, which, with the blade extended, measured two and three-quarter inches in length. "I am all right now, have had considerable pain, and was almost scared to death." The knife was passed over to Mr. Willey for inspection. The steel in the back and the blade had changed to a dark blue color, and the pearl handle had been eaten oS one-half by the action of the gastric juices of the stomach, the rivets projecting about the thirty-second part of an inch. "I'll tell you now how I came to swallow it,said Johnny "I was talking to some girls and eating a pear at the same time, cutting off small portions of it with my knife, when I said, 'I cftn completely hide the knife in my mQUth.' I put the blade in first, but I could not close my lips without making it prick my tonsils, took it out and put the handle in first, and then holding the point of the blade between my teeth closed my lips and the feat was performed. I just then swallowed, and 'presto change,' the knife went down my throat. I could reach the point of the blade, but could not extricate it, and another swallow sent it into my stomach. It's all right now. It went down handle first and came out point first, but it's out now, and I don't propose following the business of a juggler any more. No pocket knife ever gets above my lower lip again. In fact, I don't think jack-knives were made to swallow, anyhow."

The doctor said: "When he came to me saying he had swallowed an open jackknife I could hardly credit the statement I asked him what he had done to remove it. ife replied some had advised takingsweet oil, others castor oil, ate. I said. 'Well, I suppose you took all of them?' 'No, I did not,' he replied 'I have taken nothing.' 'Ail right,' I replied 'yon have saved your life by doing so.' Well, sir, I put him on a buckwheat diet That was all I let him eat or drink—buckwheat cakes and buckwheat gruel. Buckwheat is not easily digested, and I knew it would form a ball around the knife, and thus allow it to pass along its circuitous route without doing injury, the blade and rough edges being completely covered with a thick and smooth coating of buckwheat It acted just as I expected. The blade came first, and although Johnny hfis lost a few days* time, he did not lose his knife, but will take it homa with him to-morrow."

A Cincinnati Flirt's Mistake. Toledo Special. The developments in the Wilson burglary case to-day were interesting as teaching a lesson to the average female with a tendency to flirt Miss Louise Matthias was the pretty witness who told the story of an escapade which now forms one of the links in the identity of the burglar, Wilson. The testimony is that Miss Matthias, with two friends, Miss Flora Wedderz, of Perrysburg, and Miss Lou Small, of Walnut Hills, Cincinnati, were on the steamer Waite, going to and and returning from Detroit, the 13th of August, the day before the burglary. They flirted with Wilson, who claimed to be a drummer, Scott by name, and so agreeable was he that all hands had their pictures taken in Detroit. These pictures were found on Wilson when he was arrested in New York, and the young ladies are gaining no small amount ot unpleasant notoriety in consequence.

A Left-Field Masher.

A Cincinnati paper says that the wife of Charley Jones, the big left fielder of the Cincinnati base ball club, created no little excitement upon Vine street Tuesday by running about very much excited, and shouting, "Catch him!" "Catch him!" "Hold that woman." Several efforts were made to quiet her, but all of no avail, as she would listen to no person. She had found her husband in the company of another woman, and was bent on throwing cayenne pepper in the eyes of the enemy. The left fielder and his companion escaped from the crowd with the angry wife in hot pursuit

The Japanese cats' eyes, which are now fashionable ornaments, are the polished hinge, or thick nob at the hinge, of the pearl oyster.

A bill to prohibit newspapers from pub lishing details of suicides is under consideration in the Uragnayan congress.

THE CtiRIStMAS STOCKING.

BI H. C. DODO*.

"Dear Santa dans," wrote little Will, in letters truly shocking, "I'sebeen a good boy, so please fill a heepen up this stocking. I want a drain to make pa sick and drive my mamma craly. I want a doggie I can kick so he will not get laay. I want a powder gan to shoot right at my sister Annie-, and a big tminpet 1 can toot jost awful load at granny. I want a dreffie big false, face to scare in fits our baby. I want pony I can race around the parlor, maybe. I want a little hatchet, too, so I can de eome chopping npon oar grand piano new when mamma goes a-shopping,

I want a nice hard rubber ball to smash all into flinders the neat big mirror lji the hall an* l$8,,an' lota of winder?. An' candy that'll a sick so ma all night will hold me an' make pa get the ..... doctor quick an never try to soold me. An', Santa Clans, if pa says" I am naughty it's a story. Jus' say if he whips me I'll die and go to kingdem glory."

BULGARIA AND ITS PEOPLE.

Facts About the Country King Milan Has Just Invaded. San FranoiBbo Argonaut

In the spring of 1876 the Bulgarian atrocities horrified the civilized world. Crushed, hopeless and helpless, the Bulgarians made no effort in self-defense. Suleiman Pasha swore to exterminate the Christians of Boumelia and leave the country a desert. The Boumelians offered no resistance, but, like .their countrymen across the Balkans, sullenly submitted. For this tame acquiescent this want of spirit, historians have calli the Bulgarians and Boumelians cowards and sheep, and for their subsequent guerilla warfare against the Turks in East Boumelia they have called them wolves. Both terms are unjust. Bulgarians, Roumanians and Boumelians are neither cowardly nor revengeful. An eastern statesman likens them to the Germans. He thinks their weakness as a nation due not to their cowardice or latiness, but to their peculiar development of individuality, resulting from their sudden l8ap from slavery to freedom. He ascribes their incapacity for self-government to their want of political apprenticeship. In less than 100 years the Bulgarians, whose very name and language had become almost extinct, rose from the most abject servitude .to substantial independence. They are industrious, frugal, perseverint The Bulgarian student makes up for lac) of brilliancy by undying patience and application. The Bulgarian school, established from patriotic steal, has done wonders in educating the masses. Obstinate and Blow to adopt new ideas, the Bulgarian holds them fast when he gets them. His religion, for which he fought so desperately, is like the religion ot all enslaved nations, marked by superstition his virtue—for among the native Bulgarians crimes of violence are rare —is marred by lyiDg, stealing and the small rogueries characteristic of subject races. That he is a rogue should surprise no one, when it is remembered that for 500 years he was the bondman of Turkey, and for another bundled years was ground under the heel oi the patriarch that, he was taxed and excommunicated by bishops, who had sometimes been barbers and cooks that his property was confiscated under charges which he never heard that the Turkish pashas, with brawling retinue, would stop at bis house, eat his food, carry off his daughters, and kill him if he objected that often on the highway he was forced to carry a lazy Turk on his back for miles.- All this he bore with no hope of redress—the Constantinople officials were in league with the pashas, and both found a convenient slave in him.

Though morally and mentally he deteriorated under this slavery, physical he improved. The ^Roumanians and Bulgarians of the present day are among the handsomest races in Europe. For centuries the lights of pashas' harems have come from the banks of the Danube. At Passau, a little town on the river bank, every woman is beautiful as an houri. Tourists make pilgrimages there to see them. They are a noble type— placid, massive Junos, with solemn black brows, heavy-lidded velvet eyes, skin naturally olive, but artificially tinted, and profiles worthy to be stamped on Boman coins. Peasant girls wear their hair—of a dull, lusterless black—hanging down to their feet, sometimes twisted with beads and flowers, and generally unconfined, when it envelops them like a cloak. Standing about the village fountains of an evening, their massive figures, straight as arrows, their earthen jars poised on their heads with one large, white arm raised to steady them, these handsome peasant gills, giggling and gossiping in the red afterglow, make a group for Bouguereau.

The passion of the Boumanian-Bulga-rian women is dress. To be dressed in clothes from Paris is to them the summit of earthly bliss. Fashion is their goddess, and even among the peasants she is exacting. Each village has its particular costume, and when a buxom belle enters a shop she mentions her village, and is immediately shown the particular style of dress winch is suppesed to be thor oughly chic there. She shows a noble disregard for pomp and vanity, however, as she trudges home from market with the conveniently loose front of her white linen jacket filled with cabbages, turnips, eggs and any other spoils of a shopping tour. But on her wedding-day the is gorgeous—glittering with glass and amber beads ana covered with really beautiful embroideries. The groom is like a brigand in the opera—he wears a red hussar jacket, a green waistcoat (both a mass of embroidery), a red sash bristling with silvermounted revolvers and knives his white petticoats are tucked and stiffened till they stand out like a ballet-dancer's, and his shapely legs covered with fawncolored trousers, hooked up the sides with an endless array of hooks and eyes, while to complete his appearance as a young blood, the bowl of his pipe towere above his hat, the stem being stuck down the back of his neck. He is generally a lucky dog, for the Bulgarian woman is a gentle soul—warm-hearted and kindly. She greets the wayfarer hospitably, gives him a place before the fire, and a supper of damper, an expansive dough, which swells like a cork inside him and makes his sleep a reign of terror.

Rich Bulgarians and Boumanians at Sofia, Bucharest and other large cities are grandees. The women are handsome as pictures. Large and lasy, they spend their days on divans, eating candies smoking cigarettes and reading French novelsJor all well-educated Bulgarians speak French like Parisians. When they go out, they drive. Walking they abhor. A stiff leather boot on the plump foot of a Bulgarian belle would cause her agony. Exertion bores her she ia always languidly lacy and graceful, always gorgeously and gaudieusly dressed in the latest novelty from Paris, and always falling inland out of love. To her divorce is a oagatelle. It seldom

causes unpleasantness: everybody remains on perfectly good terms with everybody else it is alia matter of convenience she and her husband don't agree, that is all. After tbe divorce die marries somebody else, and so on da capo. The successive members of the dynasty of husbands are all friendly with each other and with her. When a Bulgarian beauty—fat, slow, handsome and gorgeous as a,bird of Paradise—enters a ball room, she bows to husband No. 1, who is chatting to husband No. 2 in a corner then seeing husband No. 3 leaning on the mantelpiece she bows him a kiss, whispers a soft nothing to No. 4, on whose arm she leans, and all the time her dark, sleepy eyes are keeping a sharp lookout on the door for the prospective No. 5. A Roumanian

f-ucharest:

randee remarked once of society at "Marriage with us resembles a mazurka, in which our ladies take a turn first -with one cavalier and then with another." Another great diversion of the Bulgarian and Roumanian great lady, almost of more importance than her next change of partners, Is her trip to Paris. To give that up is the sublimnt of Selfsacrifioe. Americans love Paris, Russians adore it, but Bulgarians worship it

After her stay in the gay capital, she comes back laden with fine clothes and flaunts them in the faces of her bosom friends with refined cruelty. Her taste, however, is sometimes eccentric. Says recent Danubian traveler: "The ladies we took on board here were all in magnificent toilets of the newest French fashion but, being of an oversmart description and put on in a slovenly manner, gave the wearers an up-all nigntish look anything but .taking. The men were also dressed in French fashion, and from their dark, sallow appearance ana general cast of features snowed clearly that their ancestors, the Roman convicts, had largely intermarried with the gypsies," In fact, the gentlemen in question, was introduced themselves as Boumanian princes, were in reality a species of the human confidence man—a variety of the human Species which flourishes in Turkey as elsewhere.

A YOUNG RAILWAY KING.

Robert Garrett of the B, & O—His LOTS of Fine Clothes, Horses, Ftc Baltimore Special.

Mr. Robert Garrett, the president of the Baltimore & Ohio railroad company, is worth anywhere from 16,000,000 to $10,000,000, and he is, therefore, among the richest of Baltimore's citisens. The bulk of his fortune is invested in the railroad whose affairs he has managed since the death of his fsther. Mr. Garrett's personal appearance does not afford ah insight by any means satisfactory into his real character As it has been outlined through his actions within the last few months. His face is boyish. His eyes are blue, and have an irrepressible inclination to dance and twinkle, as though brimming over with suppressed amusement. He has his father's broad, well rounded forehead, his father's broad full nose, and his father's mouth, with his thick though not BenBual lips. He is much given to hearty laughing.

To speak generally, Mr. Gartett is of the semi-pronounced blonde type. He wears side whiskers And a mllitAchb. He stands a trifle over the mediiim height, and weighs ftilly ISO pounds. He is plump, bijit hot corpulent. His manner is vivacious, his gait springy, giving him in walking a chipper, bouncing movement He does considerable walking for exercise, and is generally accompanied on his excursions by his close personal friend and confidant, Mr. J. K. Cowen, who is the corporation counsel of the Baltimore & Ohio.

Dress is with Mr. Garrett a considers tion of the highest importance. In

•NOT BUILT THAT WAY."

A b«»y will eat aad a boy will drink, And a boy will play all day But a boy won't work ands boy won't think,

Beeanse ha ain't built thst way. —[Chicago Herald.

A girl will sing and a girl will danoe, And a girl will work crochet But she can't throw a stone sod bit a ohorch,

Because she ain't bailt that way. —[Lynn Union.

A girl will flirt and a girl will masb,And ne'er give herself away Bat she can't scratch a match on tbe seat of

Iter pants,

(this

direction he steers #ith skillful disenmi nation between the gaudy and sombre. His taste is fastidious, and his every garment must be in the latest fashion and cut with the greatest precision to the lines of his figure. His clothing is concocted with supreme regard for the smallest details. His wardrobe is extensive. As a matter of fact,' he has nearly 100 different suits of clothes. They are all new and can be jumped into in a jiffy, no matter how great the exigencies of the occasion. They range from tbe clawhammer coat to the futtian shootingjacket, and the pantaloons area veritable symphony in wearing apparel.

Mr. Garrett's tailor has his shop in New York. This personage keeps the railroad president' constantly in receipt of samples of the latest styles of goodB. So soon as he finds anything that pleases his fancy, he wires his tailor a few days before a contemplated trip to New York to make him a suit oi that sample. When he reaches New York the suit is made and waiting for him at his hotel. So fastidious and dainty is he in such matters that he frequently strings his telegram out in length to 1,000 words in giving his tailor the necessarily precise directions. These telegrams deal not only with the broad generalities of the coat, vest and trousers,, but explain in detail the kind of buttons to be used, the number and exact location of the pockets, and the like.

Mr. Garrett's collection of hats, canes and umbrellas is practically numberless. Visitors, upon entering his house, have frequently been appalled by the immense number of hats distributed through the halls, and have fallen into the natural error of supposing that he is entertaining a vast delegation of his friends at dinner.

His Socks Sent by Telegraph. Hartwell (Ga.) Snn. One day last week a young man entered the Hartwell telegraph office with a sealed letter. He told Champion, tke operator, that it was sealed and stamped and that he wanted it sent to his sweetheart at Bowersville, by telegraph, and for him not to open it Champion directed him to the postoffice.

This reminds us of one of "Old F.'s" yarni. He says thatduringthewarwhea the militia were about Savannah, an old lady who had a 16 year-eld son down there went to the depot at Greensboro with a pair of wool socks which she wanted sent to her "bold soldier y" by telegraph. Some men were walking about the depot On* of them told her to walk into the office and he would hang the socks on the wire -nd in a few minvtea she would hear im Jim. The maa pulled off his dirty, -11worn socks and putting on the ntw OT es, hung the old qpes on tne wire, and ant in and told the old lady that Jim had received tbe socks and sent back hit ld ones, which were hung on tke wire. The delighted old lady raised her specta 'es, saw the old socks, and requested the r»an to take them down, remarking in a v. ice full of piide and tenderness: "Jus7 like Jim—he always wur a erful, savin' boy and he has sent his )ld socks back for his mammy to darn 'e God bless himAnd in turn we -ay God bless all such innooent, tenderhearted mothers as Jim's.

Wood Floors in Rnssia. The finest floors an said to be am* in Russia. For those of the highest grade tropical woods are exclusively ased. Fir and pine are never need, sa in consequence of their sticky character they attract and retain dust and dirt, and thereby soon become blackened. Pitch pine, too, is liable to shrink, even after being well sdfeoned. The mosaic wood doors in Russia are often of extraordir.w beauty. One in the summer p*lnce small squares of ebony i:• mother-of-pearl. A considerable- tra is done in Dantsic and Riga by expos ung •mall blocks of oak for parvuet floors.

Because she ain't built that wav. —[Herald.

A boy may prance and a boy may danoe, A boy may wear a drees in a play But be can't draw a crowd like a girl in pants,

Because he ain't built that way.

TROT'S MOTHER.

"Well, my boy, I'll try and tell you all about it from the beginning. Help yourself to a cigar first, and then pass the box to me. I knew you would want to hear the particulars, and I—I have been trying to put off the evil moment I'm getting to be an old man new, and all this shook me a good deal at the time." "Come here, Trot, and sit on my knee. Seem$ odd, Hariy, don't it, to see an old bachelor like me nursing a tiny bit of a girl like Trot? Four years old to-day, aren't you. Trot? How the time flies "You see, jay .dear liid, you otight tt) have told her before you went away She never guessed that you thought of her in that way. It might have saved her—who knows? "It must be nine years since your Uncle Will died and left Violet in my care. She was only 15 then. Don't you think Trot is very like her? The same large, brown eyes and long lashes, the same loving little ways. "She came to me one morning some months after you left for China, with a letter in her hand. 'Look here, uncle,' she said, kueeling beside me and holding the note where I could read 'it's a note from the Golds, and they invite me to go and stay with them at Ventnor. May I accept?' 'Do you want to go, Violet?' I asked. 'Of course I do,- she said, laughing. 'We are so quiet here at home, and this would be such a delightful change. Please let me, uncle. I will write yop long letters, and tell you all about everything.* "I didn't want to part with her even for a little time, for the three years she had been with me then made my life quite a different matter but it seemed selfish to keep the bright, merry girl always shut up with a crusty old man. I gave her leave to go, and then, when after a fortnight she wrote, begging to be allowed to stay longer, as her friends wished, I had not the heart to refuse. She was there five weeks and then she came home. "The day after1 her return he Came "that contemptible Scoundrel whom in thoBfe few weexsshe had learned to regard as a hero. How he found out at first that she had a little fortune of her own I don't know. He asked for me, and told me that he wanted my permission to address my niece. "He was a good-looking young fellow, and had a frank, open manner that was sure to win a girl's favor, but I thought of you, Ilarry, and determined to prevent the matter going farther if I could. I took a strong and apparently unreasonable dislike to him, and made inquiries* hoping to find something that would jtistify me in forbidding him-the house put entirely in vain. .But 1 studied him observed every little act and word, until at last I knew him through and through, and that he was no fit husband for my little Violet. "By this time it had become a kind of tacit engagement, ^nd I knew I should seem almost brutal for interfering, but I couldn't bear the idea of giving Violet into his care. I vowed to myself that nothing on earth should induce me to do so, ana I told him to discontinue his visits. "The result of that was that he came to a definite understanding with Violet, and she promised to marry nim with or without my consent. "Don't look at me so reproachfully, Harry. It may be that I acted unwisely all through, but if so I have been severely punished for my folly. You have let your cigar out. Here are the matches. "You want me to tell you all she said and did—her very words, as well as I can remember. That's a hard matter, for my memory's not so good as it usea to be. "I was sitting here one evening, when Violet came in slowly, and, sitting down where you are, looked at me very sadly for some minutes. 'Uncle, dear,' she said, at last, "I can not understand vou. I never believed you could be so hard and cruel.' "I did not speak. 'It is not like you to be so unjust, so arbitrary,' she went on. 'It seems to me, uncle, that in the matter of marriage a woman should choose for herself ana not be influenced by any one. I hate made my choice and given my word but oh! I should be so much more happier if you were not angrv. Do forgive me ana be yonr own kind self again/ 'Yes, when vou yield to my wishes,' I answered, coldly. 'Yon are a mere girl, Violet, and kave had no experience of men. li you were ten years older I should leave you to take the copsequence of your rashness, but as it is "'As it is—what then? Oh, uncle,' and she slipped from her chair and kneeled here on the rug at my feet, 'pray —pray be your old self again. You were never angry with me before, and it seems so strange and unnatural to see you turn your head away from me without a smile. Do yon love me only if I have no voice, no will of my own ".'Listen to me, child,' I said, looking her in the face 'I have striven to be a father to you since I brought you here I' have loved you, heaveu onlv knows how dearly! In return I only ask you to let me prevent you making a complete wreck of your life. I want to save you from a sad fate, and you think me a tyiant' "She took my hand in both hera nd pressed her face on it, then looked up with a smile. 'I wish Harry were here,' she said. 'He always took my aide.' "I ought not to have told you that, my dear boy, but it was so fresh in my mind, as it struck- me forcibly at the time, knowing as I did that you loved her. Forgive my want of tact. "She was not given to shedding tears like some women, or she would have cried then. Her cheeks were hot and burning as they touched my hand, while her eyes were feverishly bright She used every argument she could find to induce me to consent to her engagement, and ps I remained silent she drew nearer and gazed np sorrowfully and eagerly in my face. 'You relent, uncle?' she whisp- red, in an agitated way. 'You will let me be

that way, never/ I told her, sadly

and sternly, and I tried to draw away my fingers, bnt she clung to them ghtly, while her lips quivered. 'Don't say that uncle 1' ah" c.i hoarsely. Dear uncle. o-,v—«h I ssy to t.«

I WSJ V- J-

I tnought child/ -. S w'.J.r. .iui-uce me. I it -i' "i

And so arv 1,

-Aiirowfullv,

dropping my i:. and rising to her feet.

'I should* always have wished to pleaas you but. now you are harsh and, unjust and will nut listen to reason, what' can I do?" "She waited forme to speak but had. no words at hand. I was too hurt and angry. She went toward the door, then came back and stood behind me resting her hands lightly on my shoulders. 'Try and forgive me, nncle. I loVt him 80-—I Jove his faults that make yoa despise him and his virtues that yoa do aot know. Won't you kiss me, uncle?' "I was half inclined to take her in my arms and tell her she should do what she would bnt I did not After a few minutes of dead silence I heard her breath in a half sob and then the door closed upon her, and I was alone. "The next day, she did not come down before I went to the city,, and when I came homfe she was, gone,, I have for* given her now, Harry but it was a crnial blow. After all my love and care I did

Hot think she could haw left me like that! "Why, Trot, you look quite frightened 1 I'm not cross, my pet. "Yes, yes, my boy, I'm going on bnt you are so impatient Well, some timeaf er—ayrar, or two years perhaps, I can't remember exactly—I wa* coming home at dusk—in the Strand, I think it was, I met a woman in a shabby black dress, with a child on her arm our eyes met, and then somehow or other we were the center of a crowd, and I was raking Violet's head from the hard pavement She had fainted on seeing me, and I had just contrived to save her and the little one fiom a severe fall. "I brought her home in a cab, and my housekeeper helped her into bed. Harry, she w,8s next. dooc to starvation when that accidental meeting gave her baokto me—for only three days. I was too lat» to save her. 'You have forgiven me?' she asked that evening as I sat by her bed. 'I forgave you, my child, long since but not him who has brought you to this.

Where is he?1 'Dead,' raid the poor girl in a faint whisper. 'Don't speak ill of him. I can't bear it' "I asked her why she had not let me know Bbe was in distress—why* she had not come home. 'I was ashamed to come,' she said. 'I knew you would not turn from me: bnt I was too much ashamed.' "The next day but one the doctor told me what to expect I promised the poor child that Trot should take her plaoe with me. I held the little one for ner to kiss and had it taken away, and then "Trot, my darling, run up-stairs to the nurse for a vhile I'll call yon down again by-and-by. "And thep, as I said, Violet bade me cood-by. Her last words? They were 'Give my love to Harry/ .• "These ipcessant fogs have a very bad effect on my throat I can't talk for a length of time without getting like I did just now, so that I can't croak ont a word. "There isn't much more to tall, fortunately, for I am getting as hoarse at a raven. I was out, with Trot at ay side, one day last autumn, when I came upon someone 1 had thought gone to ioiii the majority. He was walking with a petty, stylish-looking girl, chatti.ng ancj laughing, but when he. saw me his smil^ died on his lips and the blood flowed to his face. His gaze dwelt for a moment on the chi!d whose hand I held. He knew those brown eyes and long lashsa and he saw the black frock. "There, that is all. Harry, I read your thoguhts. You must not! Leave him to heaven. Promise me, boy—for her sake—for the child's sake. Yon promise? Ycur hand on that. Heavaa help you, my pflor lad i." wssmi

M. PASTEUR

The Man Who Claims to flate a Hydrophobia. .. The name of Pasteur is on every lip, and the confidence that the medical fraternity have in his skill is exemplified itt the case of the Newark children who were bitten by a rabid dog. Although the expense of sending these children to Paris will be $2,000, they are to be sent to Pasteur for treatment. The result will be watched with unusual interest by our countrymen. "Pastc-ur is never mistaken." Such is the tribute paid by French scientists to their eminent brother whose researches with the microscope have brought him so prominently before the world. M. Pasteur is entirely devoted to his experiments in relation to hydrophobia. He is a native of Dole in the Jura district, France, and is 60 years ef age. He is honorary fellow of the Royal society of London and is personally well known to Englishmen of science. The French ministry of public instruction has appointed a commission of inquiry, acting jointly with the academy of science, to report upon the value of M. Pasteur's recent evpenments. Day and night he (M. Pasteur) is at his laboratory in the Bue Ulm, or in an isolated building which the ^vernment^has placed at his disposal, in the Bue Vanqueling. There he bends over the ourions-ly-constructed cages ,in which dqgs and monkeys in the' various stages of "rage" await his investigations. The cages are all made very strong, with double doors and openings at the top, through which the animals may be taken out In a great Md book the illustrious seeker alter truth keeps what he calls the "register of witnesses." Each animal is ta him a witness and the biography of each one experimented on is written down. Pasteur has a rival in Koch, the eminent German physician. These two men, springing from nations which have been the bitterest enemies, now stand pre-eminent among their fellows. Koch has the advantage o! being the youngest His researches ia consumption lead to the hope that the ravages of that fearful malady will soaa be halted. *.. ....

Prices of Food Declining. Some interesting statistics gathered from the files of the American Grocer show the decline in the wholesale prices of food since 1879. Before that time the prices in domestic markets were largely governed by the premium on gold. The following statement shows in a general way the courses of prices on the leading articles: 1870. 1879. 188». $ .18 9 .09X 9 .06K .14% .09 .11% .MX .39Ji .06% -06* 36.85 8.54 .15X .0665 .S3 .1670 .17X .0780 .» .18 .0860 .OSS 1.29 1.18 6.50 4.43 1.00 .49 8.50 3.46 1.60 .76 1.82 1.17

Granulated sugar. 6rushed sugar.... Bio coffee. Japan tea Bice....' Mew Pork Lard Butter Cheese Mackerel Codfish Wheat Floor Coin Canned peaches... Canned oysters... Canned salmon)...

.09* .19 •04*

13.36 .0680 .30 .193* .83 .0499 .83 3.80 .69 1.8S .90 1.3T

Clara's Travelling Outfit,

Philadelphia Times. In the adjoining room stood a trunk six feet high and five feet wide. Miss Morris spoke of it as lif house. It is the largest th»*_''rir«' mm the road. There are f-tt ri «-J her ««l (:+', tvri-.,- i.-ecHao-*, wo dosen three .iiamondri i'IV -»f Itick- :.. u-:- iiixl any q-iftiiii 1 jeweled .«*-}(»n. Ofl'Uifi stage Mis.- n* rs •.t. w-j-t-v, a pl-iin, lirtlegulil Mnjf rk: li finger cf her left hand.

The to 1 value of the trade of Indi^ exeedb $2oU.(j00,000 annually.