Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 23 August 1884 — Page 10

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WITH OLD POETS. Written for the Journal by Emma Oarleton. In our beautiful language there is no more beautiful word, both as to sound and significance, than our word, garden. The Welshman may have his garth, the German his garten, the Portuguese his jardim, the Frenchman his jardin. the Italian his giardino, and even our own Uncle Remus his “gyardin,” but no self-respecting, English-speaking individual will ever concede to any of these titles the soft and mellifluent tones which charm the ear in our own word. As the word garden is beautiful, so also is the divine invention for which it stands. As the four most delightful employments of industrious man Cowper enumerates “Friends, books, a garden, and perhaps his pen;” but friends come not always on the scene when longed for; books ofttimes fail to fit "the myriad moods of man which to the mind come thronging,” and the faithful pen will sometimes cleave to the paper in dumb idleness. The garden, however, if man has such a charming possession, is ever with him, to match his moods with exhaustless magic all its own. Os all summer months, August is, par excellence, the month for unalloyed enjoyment of the garden. In May manhas planted, through June and July he has weeded and watered, and in August he first finds lull leisure to contemplate the increase. Weeds then seem to be conscience-stricken, and relent in their persistent diabolism; heavy night dews fall to relieve the sprinkling-can or garden-hose; fruits are almost gone; flowers are in their loveliest maturity and prime," and the weary gardener, under his own vine and fig tree, in delicious physical repose, may reap the spiritual rewards of his toil, if he choose, in royal company. What indissoluble ties bind the poet to the garden, and also the garden to tile poet! Can you sit or walk among your flowers without the poet at your ear or elbow? And can you turn the poet’s pages without a thousand brilliant hues and fragrant odors springing forth to meet you? Nay, for here are “pansies for thoughts and rosemary for remembrance” —“sweet violets that strew the lap of the new-come spring;” here bloom amaryllis and narcissus, both beloved of poets all; and here nestles the daisy, dear for Burns’s and Wordsworth’s sake; there “the red rose cries, she is near, she is near, and the white rose weeps, she is late;” there trips “the fairy bride from Italy with smells of oleander in her hair,” and there blazes the scarlet “pomegranate blossom; heart of fire,” there “the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,” and there “the orange flower perfumes the bower" but County Guy comes not. Truly the garden without the poet's interpretation would be a banquet hall deserted, and the poet’s page from which all flowers have faded can draw and charm us no longer. All poets love the garden. Even in Homer, amid the rush of chariots and the clash of spear and shield, we find “Pallas, radiant veil with flowers adorned," and “on Mount Ida’s sacred top where Jupiter and Juno meet, a garden springs to grace the scene;” “unbidden herbs and voluntary flowers, thick, new-born violets a carpet spread, and clustering lotus.” Nay, more, the kitchen garden throve in Homer’s day, for at a warrior's banquet,

‘ ‘Sacred flower of wheat And wholesome garlic crowned the savory treat.” Bread and onions! Matchless feast! indorsed of gods and men. Glorious gardens bloomed in Virgil’s time: “The daughters of the flood have searched the mead For violets pale, and cropp'd the poppy’s head; The short narcissus and fair daffodil. Pansies to please the sight and cassia sweet to smell; And set soft hyacinths with iron-blue To shade marsh marigolds of charming hue; The laurel and the myrtle sweets agree, And both in nosegay shall be bound for thee.” Chaucer knew “the greate delite and the pleasaunee they have to the floure.” He wrote of “velouttes blew” and “fresh wodebind,” with other “godely floures, white and red and well smelling. ” They begged ‘ ‘slips, ” too, in Chaucer's day: “Geve me a plant of thilke blessed tree, An in my gardin planted shal it be.” Spenser, too, tells of charming gardens: “No dainty flower or herb that grows on ground, Apd smelling sweet, but it might there be found.” But all brightest gardemplots must pale and fade away before the enclffinting and matchless flowers of Shakspeare’s pages. “Here’s flowers for you”—“a thousand fragrant pansies"—“daisies pfed and violets blue”—“daffodils that come before the swallow dares”—“violets dim, but sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes”—“pale primroses that die unmarried”—“the marigold that goes to bed with the sun, and with him rises weeping”—“bold oxlips and the crown imperial’’ —“the freckled cowslip” and “cuckoo buds of yellow hue”—“carnations and streaked gillyflowers” —“luscious woodbine and sweet muskroses"—the azured harebell and leaf of eglantine” —“lilies of all kinds” —truly “an odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds” —good morrow, sweet my William, and farewell; beshrew us but we love you heartily. Drayton, too, is rich in garden-lore; a true poetical floral catalogue, telling of “all wholesome . herbs and every pleasant flower;” “the oderiferous pink that sends forth such a gale of sweetness;” “the button-bachelor, sweet-william, the marigold, cowslip, oxlip and columbine, ladysmock, crow-flower, clover-flower and double-daisy;” all these, with other “flowers to gardens that belong” scent his pages. Herbs, too, to send the old . housewife daft with envy; “balm and mint, the seentful camomile, strong tansey, fennel cool, clear hyssop, sweet marjoram, sweet basil, and the comfortable thyme," “which every where they strew with bounteous hand and free.” With Milton pluck we “Violets blue, And fresh blown roses wash’d in dew, —the sweet-bier or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine." “The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine”— “flowers of all hues and without thorn, the rose” —"flowery arbors”—“yonder alley's green.” What wonder that with wandering step and slow our lingering parents left this garden of beauty; the bosky bournes, and bushy dells aDd violetembroidered vales of paradise. Prior wrote of “gardens so stately and arbors so thick” where he plucked “the dappled pink and blushing rose” to deck his charming Cbloe’s hair, and we may forgive much to womanhating Pope for his loving touch on “the flowery ground” where “A crystal fountain spread its streams around. To this sweet place in summer’s sultry heat He us’d from noise and business to retreat.” Thomson sang the joys of “still retreats and flowery solitudes;” a genuine nature-lover, “her genial hours he full enjoys, and not a beauty blows, and not an opening blossom breathes in vain." In Shenstone, “Now nightingales warble their loves From thickets of roses that blow.” There, too, we may read and weep the woes of #irydon, the pining shepherd: “To the grove or the garden he strays And pillages every sweet; Then suiting the wreath to his lays He throws it at Phyllis’s feet. " ‘O, Phyllis,’ he whispers, ‘more fair, More sweet than the jesamine's flower; What are pinks in a morn to compaie? What is eglantine after a shower? “ ‘Then the lily no longer is white; Then the rose is deprived of its bloom; Then the violets die with despight, ’ And the woodbines give up their perfume.’" What more fitting time and place in which to leave a theme of such embarrassing magnitude than in the garden with sighing Corydon and his faithless Phyllida? The world began with man, woman and a garden; and when men have ceased to sigh, woman to trifle with true hearts, and gardens to bloom, life will ha'ja lost, its savor and chaos may well come again. In the meantime, however, while gardens bloom, and human nature restrains its primitive •lements. poets will deck their lays with garlands, and all men may revel in that Persian paradise. “A book of verses underneath the bough.” The Art of Dressing. B. X. White, Lb. D., Indiana School Journal, Augnit. Carpets may be woven, garments made and (tone carved by pattern, but the unfolding and informing of a human soul is not the work of iperatives following appointed forms and

methods. The human soul is not touched by the revolving cogs of mechanical methods. True teaching requires the artist’s hand and the the artist’s spirit. Fruitful methods may be evoked; they can never be imposed. They must bear the impress of the teacher's image and pulsate with the life which he breathes into them. The vital element in every method of instruction is what the teacher puts into it, and hence the prime fact in every school is the teacher. It is not enough that graded schools go through with the forms of a philosophic course of instruction. The knowledge to be taught may be wisely selected and arranged; the successive steps may follow each other in natural order, and the entire mechanism may be so perfect that the revolving cogs touch each other with beautiful precision; and yet, if the whole be not vitalized by true teaching, the system is a failure as a means of education. The one essential condition of success is the informing, vitalizing spirit of free, earnest teachers; and the more philosopical the system of instruction attempted, the more essential is this condition. A routine of mere book lessons may be conducted by a blind plodder who can turn the crank and tighten the screws, but a system of instruction, having for its grand end the right unfolding and training of the mind and heart, requires the insight, the invention, the skill, the inspiration of the true teacher. We are slow in learning that philosophic methods of teaching are practicable only to those who have some insight into their principles. The oral teaching in our schools is often as deadening as the old text-book drills. Some of the object-lesson teachers out-Herod Herod in mechanical teaching, and, if I were obliged to choose between the text-book grinder and the crank-turner of prescribed objectlessons, I should unhesitatingly take the former, with the assurance that he would have something to grind. CHARLES REASE AT HOME. Tlie Benign Influence Exerted Over Him by His Housekeeper. Robert Buchanan, in September Harper. The reader, though familiar with the name and works of Reade, may require to be reminded that he lived and died a bachelor, and that the Mrs. Seymour of whom I have more than once spoken was his housekeeper for many years. When he began to write plays she was a popular actress, and thus they were brought together; and presently he went to reside with her, her husband (who was then living), and two other friends and lodgers. Gradually the little circle thinned; its members died off one by one, till Mrs. Seymour, a widow, was left to keep house for only one survivor, Charles Reade. Their relationship, from first to last, was one of pure sacred friendship, and the world would be better, in my opinion, if such friendships were more common. Bright, intelligent, noble-minded, and generous to a fault, Laura Seymour deserved every word of the passionate eulogy which Charles Reade composed upon her death, and had engraved upon her tombstone. She was a little woman, brighteyed, vivacious, and altogether charming. In all literary matters she was his first adviser and final court of appeal; but, like himself, she was very impulsive, and occasionally wrong-headed. She had the best and finest of all virtues—charity. Wherever there was poverty and suffering, her purse was open as her heart. She loved dumb animals —dogs especially. In the pleasant days that are gone I used to drive down to Albert Gate a certain Pickwickian pony of mine, christened Jack. On his first appearance at the gate, nothing would content the good Seymour but I should take him out of the trap, release him of his harness, and escort him through the house to the back garden.. “Poor fellow!” she cried; “do bring him in an"d let him graze on the lawn.”. This would hardly have done, as Jack was a soft sybarite already, and too plump, moreover, to get through the lobby without accidents. Mrs. Seymour relieved her kind heart by sending him out some cakes and bread, to which he was very partial, and ever after that day, when Jack nulled up at the Vineyard, be sure he had his treat of something nice given by that kindly and gentle hand. In his personal habits Reade was exceedingly eccentric. For example, he had a mania for buying all sorts of flotsam, with the idea that they might “come in useful." On one occasion he purchased a stuffed horse’s head, thinking he might utilize it in one of his plays, and placed it in his lumber room, where it soon became moth eaten. On another, he invested in a large number of knives and forks, which he secreted away, thinking to produce them afterward triumphantly. “Seymour,” he explained to a confidant, “thinks of giving a party; so I’ve purchased this cutlery in case she may run short." He was troubled with corns, and wore enormous boots. We found him one morning with a whole waste-paper basket full of new boots, which he had ordered wholesale, after a pattern that took his fancy. His gingham umbrella would have delighted Mrs. Gamp. Altogether, his whims and oddities were a constant care to Mrs. Seymour, who rallied him mercilessly about them. In his play of Jealousy, produced at the Olympic Theatre, there was a scene where one of the actresses, supposed to be a danseuse, had to hide behind a very high screen. "Do you think, my dear,” he said to the actress rehearsing the part, “you could show the agility of the dansuese by lifting your foot and letting foot and ankle pass in sight of the audience, close to the top of the screen?” but this bit of gymnastics was declined as simply impossible. "Then, my dear, we’ll have a false leg made, and at the proper moment you will work it, gracefully and rapidly, as I shall direct.” It is scarcely necessary to add that this realistic notion was not carried out. I am disposed to think that Mrs. Seymour’s influence had much to do in sweetening and softening the character of Charles Reade; that it was altogether a benign and beautiful influence, to which the world, however indirectly, owes much. A photograph of Reade, taken when he was about five-and-thirty, shows a sternness of outline and truculence of expression which afterward completely changed; it represents, indeed, a face of extraordinary power, but no gentleness. Another photograph in my possession, taken at Margate, in 1878, pictures the same face, softened by the touch of time; the face of a “benevolent imbecile,” he himself playfully calls it in a brief note upon the back. I have no doubt whatever that his benevolence was greatly fostered by his warmhearted companion; " but be that as it may, he was, when I knew him, the gentlest of men—like our friend Boanerges, all fire and thunder in the pulpit, all kindliness and sweetness at his own fireside. The fact is, his style was a thoroughbred, and often ran away with him, or, when he sought to drive it mildly, kicked the subject to pieces. He was the Boythorne of literature, only the big speeches and terrible invectives were not spoken, but set down on paper. Yet he looked on human nature with the eve of a lover. He, too, had a passion for dumb animals. Not long before his death he filled the garden with tame hares. A noble deed stirred him like a trumpet; great as his hate for wrong-doing was his compassion for suffering. Over and above all was his natural piety, which bound his days each to each as with a chain of gold.

A Woman's Curious Bequest. Boston Post. In the will of Rabhel T. Stevens, of Somerville, recently filed in the Probate Court of Bast Cambridge, appears the following bequest: “I give and devise all my estate, both real and personal, to the city of Boston, in trust, nevertheless, for the following uses and purposes, viz.: To pay the net income thereof in semi-annual payments to Hannah J. Adams, of Somerville; upon the death of said Hannah to pay the net income of said trust estate for the support and maintenance of poor, worthy Protestant single women of Boston who have arrived at the age of fifty-nine years (not including widows), paying each the sum of SIOO annually, in semi-annual payments. Upon the marriage of any beneficiary under this will, no further payment is to be made to her, nor is any further payment to be made to any beneficiary who becomes unworthy of help under this trust. The foregoing is a perpetual trust.” Her Somerville property is directed to be held in trust until it ean be sold for $1 per square foot, at which time the city is authorized to sell, without applying to any court for leave; the proceeds of the sale to be held upon the terms of the previous trust. Remember, a complete cure for aches, pains, sores, pimples, urinaiy sediments, disturbing dreams, nervousness, despondency, indigestion and general weakness of mind and body, brought on by improper habits or otherwise, is found in two or three bottles of Dr. Guysott’s Yellow Dock and Sarsaparilla, as has been proven by the experience of many who long suffered, but who now feel well and strong in every part of the body.

THE INDIANAPOLIS JOURNAL, SATURDAY, AUGUST 23, 1884.

THE CAMPAIGN. Written for the Journal by Mary Dean. The farm boy is breaking a yoke of steers now-a-days. He also breaks a pair of heifers and teaches them to draw the baby in a little wagon, and those heifers will stay broke when they are old cows. He helps to broak the colt, such a delicate matter, achieved by harnessing the colt with the old mare one hour each day, and never letting it pull; the farmer would bo very angry to see a colt pulling a heavy load. The colt grows up supposing that the drawing of a wagon is a sort of game. When Blaine was nominated, the farmer told the boy to gather the brush and make a bonfire. The boy worked bard, dripping with sweat, and made a big brush heap, piling it against a fifteen-foot stump. At night it was a joyous blaze that lighted the country. “They can see that to Boanblossom,” said the boy. The farmer enjoyed it and helped to roll up the straggling brush and poked the fire till ’Squire Hudgins appeared upon the scene, out of breath with haste and shouting, “What the dickens! Thought the Corners was a-flre! Aint ye ’fraid it’ll ketch yer hog pen?” The hog-pen is 200 feet away; but the farmer, most cautious of men, takes the alarm and turns on the boy with a scolding, which the boy thinks disgustingly unreasonable. The presidential campaign revives war memories, therefore at present the boy hears heartshaking stories of old campaigns, mixed with talk about grain or some bull’s pelt Our war, like all civil wars, was full of romantic incidents. To bear them talked about by two or three veterans is to feel the joy, the glory, the exhilaration of war time when all hearts were great It is to hear the rush of troopers through fresh Southern woods. It is to gallop over hostile farms on fragrant summer afternoons with the foragers, men of cool yet courageous tempermament, who had a calm, fierce enjoyment of skirmish that made them love to expose themselves to draw the enemy’s fire. And then it is to walk coolly into the barns and houses of the enemy capturing pigs. preserves and books. Moreover, to hear the veterans talk is to hear the singing and laughter of winter nights in camp. In the winter of 1862 there were in General Chapman’s camp a debating society, an academy of music, a prayer meeting, a theater, a minstrel show, and reading, studying, card-playing and talking unlimited. Furthermore, to hear the veterans’ talk is to taste the ferocious rapture of war, which changed a kind, gentle soldier to a madman, delighted with killing and trampling his enemies under his horse's hoofs, and splashing their blood about. It is to feel for a moment that strange effect of war, the love of destruction. One of our cavalrymen once looked with satisfaction through a house he had just helped to strip. The rooms were strewn with tablelegs, chair-legs, foot-stools, china, cracked vases and clocks. Mirrors were shattered, carpets were slashed by cavalry sabres, and over all were poured feathers from beds and pillows. A musical cavalryman had first played a tune on the piano, and then smashed it One room was darkened. A fire smoldered on its hearth, and before the fire stood a little boy, crying. “Are you alone?” asked the cavalryman. “No," replied the weeping little boy. “Grandma is under the bed. ” The boy hears politics talked now. The farmer has the antique virtue of moderation, qualifies every statement he hears, and his own statements are temperate and truthful. The imprecatory speeches of the campaign affect the farmer not. He objects to machine politicians, which is one reason why they are often dropped from politics, and can't get back; and it is one reason why the people never vote as the politicians think they are going to. The talk about politics around a barn-door is the best heard anywhere. The farmer and the boy both utter't,he sentiments of that free spirit, nobly generous, yet discreet Jefferson, who secured for us our best institutions, who wanted criminals to work, who wanted such titles as honor, excellency and Mr. abolished, together with the levees and foolish ceremonies at Washington, and said newspapers without a government were better than a government without newspapers. The farmer lias Jefferson’s life and letters in a book case. The boy wishes he lived in town. “The sub lime and sacred joys of the country which the sensibility of ancient poets hath felt,” he thinks all bosh. He would like to join a club and march every night; the campaign uniforms are to be plumed, nickle-plated and gay-colored, and will make the boys look handsome. The farm boy will come to the city and see thejire-works and the processions, in which gray business men will walk solemnly with the boys, behind brass bands. The election is a big game for the people, which they play with zest, with jollity for the winning side.

THE DIVIDED 9KIKT. The English Dress Reformers Moving Upon Canada. Montreal Letter. This morning I observed at the British Association rooms two ladies of remarkably efficient and bright looks, dressed with refined simplicity that suggested study, but scarcely oddity. Inspecting them over the top of my phampiet, I noted that they wore no ornaments, had short hair, little serviceable soft hats, and flat plain shoes. Around their ankles appeared what seemed at first sight a pleated petticoat. On more intent insjtection this garment was clearly divided, and I understood that at last I saw the trousers of the dress reformers, and in the elder lady, probably Mrs. E. M. King, the secretary of the Rational Dress Association of Great Britain. Introducing myself on the conjecture, I found it correct, and learned that the young lady, handsome and wholesome, was Miss Glen, Mrs. King's friend and confidential assistant “Yes.” said Mrs. King, “I am wearing the rational dress. I always wear it not only as a Soint of duty, hut of pleasure. It is comfortable, ealthful, manageable,, and cool or warm as one may wish. These as the trousers,” and she drew up ho skirts some inches. “Made just like your own, except the pleating, and, I always will maintain, infinitely more decent than petticoats. In a wind petticoats are not coverings. In the mud petticoats draggle or have to be carried in the hand. They cause colds and diseases innumerable. Why should uot women wear trousers? No, I don’t ’ believe in imitating men’s garments. This dress is distinctly a woman’s dress. It merely is arranged on the recognition that women have two legs, and why they should not make the. admission in their dress if thus they gain comfort, is more than any one can tell. I was heartily in sympathy with the ideas on which Mrs. Bloomer's propositions were based, but 1 those who took them up made the great mistake of appearing mannish. We don’t invade man's domain, but merely assert the right of women to break through absurd traditions, set the dress 1 makers at defiance, and make themselveß comfortable. Yes, we have discarded the regulation bony, stiff stays. We leave our bodies at ease, though bodices allowing freedom of movement are, of course, often worn by ladies who think as we do. The rational dress movement is very widely supported in England. It is an educational movement, and, as in all such, progress is not with a rush, but gradual. The ground we gain we keep. No mother who has worn the rational dress will allow her daughters to injure themselves by the common fashions.

How Eclipses Impress Savages. Popular Science Monthly. Notwithstanding the frequent recurrence of eclipses, with nothing particularly bad happening after them, most primitive peoples associate with them an omen of some great danger to the earth or the moon. The Greenlanders have a personal apprehension in the matter, and believe that the moon rummages their houses for skins and victuals, and destroys those persons who have not observed due sobriety. The South American Chiquitos try to help the darkened star against a dog that has worried it till its light has been colored red, and extinguished by its streaming blood; and they shoot arrows into the sky to drive away the dog. Charlevois gives a similar account of the Guarani, except that with them a tiger takes the place of a dog; and in the language of the Tupis the literal translation of the word for an eclipse ik, “The jaguar has eaten the sun.” So, in Asia, the Tunguses believe an evil spirit has swallowed the earth’s satellites, and they try to frighten it away by shots at the darkened disk. In Sumatra and Malacca the

fear is aroused that a great snake will swallow the sun or the moon, and the Nagas of Assam set up a great drum-beating, as if in battle, tofrighten away the devouring monster. Among the American tribes are some who believe that eclipses are a warning of the approaching disappearance of the sun and the fall of the moon at the end of the world. The Potawatomies tell of a demon in the shape of an old woman, sitting in the moon weaving a basket, on the completion of which the world will be destroyed. A dog contends with the woman, tearing the basket to pieces every onee in awhile, and then an eclipse of the moon takes place; others imagine that the moon is hungry, sick, or dying at these times; while the Alfuras of Ceram think he is asleep, and make a great uproar to awake him. These superstitions are not so remote as they may seem at first sight from the impressions which the heavenly phenomena make upon many persons who consider themselves civilized. Circles may be found in nearly every nation upon whom the appearance of anything unusual in the sky carries an apprehension that something dreadful is about to happen; and by whom even the most ordinary phenomena are invested with occult influence upon things that we know have no connection with them, and it is only two or three centuries since the dire portents of comets and eclipses were prayed against in all thij) churches. , BLUE GLASS AGAIN. Extraordinary Development of Domestic i, Animals by General Pleasanton. Philadelphia Press. An interesting feature of the agricultural fair will be a group of domestic animals offered by General A. J. Pleasanton, of blue-glass fame. This exhibit will comprise colts, heifers, pigs and poultry, which have been raised on General Pleasanton’s farm under the blue-glass treatment. The object is to demonstrate the extraordinary developments which have been achieved in raising farm stock under the influence of the associated blue and transparent glass. The General claims that a colt born under these associated lights, on June 6, 1881, and now three years and two months old, has obtained a development of bone, muscle and form which will compare favorably with the majority of colts of five years of age. The heifers, under similar influences, have been reared in contra distinction to the rearing of special animals from the British channel islands in special strains, by intermingling the progeny of different crosses upon a third cross. The cross of the Chester County White and English Berkshire pigs produced a variety superior to either in prolific bearing, beauty of form and delicacy of flesh. A sow of .this cross produced three litters in ten months under the influence of these lights. In poultry a yield of eggs and the increased size of the birds manifest a large development much greater than under the ordinary treatment. General Pleasanton, will also contribute a collection of books and pamphlets on blue glass to the Electrical Exhibition.

Dining at Newport. Correspondence New York Mail end Express. I heard some extremely favored persons the other day groaning like galley slaves. There had been a dinner the day before of fifteen courses, with the usual accessories of flowers and candles. According to their account, after several courses had been disposed of, they grew actually hungry. Hope arose at the appearance of small silver saucepans covered and steaming hot. These were eagerly opened, and peering through the steam all that was to be seen was hashed drumsticks in melted butter. There bad been a ball the night before and not one of these now angry, as well as hungry, people could be persuaded that the dinner had not been served by the prudent caterer out of the waste of the entertainment the night before. Then followed much talk. The only times when their appetites are really satisfied, according to the evidence, is when they dine at home. And as this they rarely do, they arc either in one of two states. They arc half starved, or filled to discomfort. Now both comparative starvation and satiety are the death of pleasure, so you can imagine the wretched state of these people. The end of this discussion was that dinners of numerous courses were vulgar. After all, one could only eat so much, and to provide more than that was uncomplimentary, if nothing more. And certainly, to provide fifteen courses iu which everything was alike tastless. and from which one’s guests arose after several hours still hungry, was a Barmecidan feast with all the modern improvements. The Broadway oi Bangaok. David Kerin September Manhattan It is quite a relief to turn from these horrible fantasies —which look more frightful still in the ghostly dimness that surrounds them —to the fresh air and glorious sunshine that attend the crowning treat of our morning’s work. For now comes the accent of the pagoda itself, to the farthest accessible point. The stair is so deep and slippery, that I feel as if scaling the Great Pyramid once more. But the view from the higtiest platform would well repay a much greater exertion. All along either bank of the wide,'smooth stream, which amply deserves the name of “Mother of Waters” (Menam,) there start up from the dark foliage of the tropical forest the peaked roofs of bamboo huts, and the white walls of stately houses, and the spear-pointed pinnacles of Buddhist shrines, and the gold-green roofs of Siamese temples. Boats of all sizes, from the tiny canoe paddled by a doll-faced woman with a basket-work hat, to the glided barge with the gilded flag aiid white elephant of Siam fluttering at her stern, flit like fire-flies over the mighty river, which is the Broadway of< Bangkok, as the creeks and canals are her side streets: and beyond, far as the eye can reach, extends a shadowy perspective of the low green rice fields, tangled thickets, stately cocoa-palms, slim, graceful arecas, pillared banyans, shooting down innumerable suckers into the earth from their vast spreading boughs, plumy fan-palms, tall, tapering bamboos and broad-leafed bananas, without order and without end.

Beauty’s New Adornment. Long Brunch Letter. The Long Branch manicures have added a new department to their business —that of freckle-painting. The most fashionable young women this summer are those with auburn hair and golden beauty spots. The sun's rays are powerless to produce freckles on most complexions. It was said that the effect could be accomplished for delicate complexions by the application of moistened sand just after rising in the morning. So many young women got to using sand that bath-house keepers did a thriving business for n time by selling a fine white kind, and the sign, “Freckle Sand for Sale Here," met one’s eye very frequently. The results were not wholly satisfactory and the treatment now has been almost wholly given up. The yearning for freckles, however, was' so great the manicures were almost forced into doing what nature could not accomplish. They have become so skilled in the art that the only thing about their work that suggests its artificiality is the fact that the freckles are so much more delicate and picturesquely disposed than one ever finds them on the blooming countenance of a milkmaid. The charge is fifty cents a freckle. One treatment, with careful management, can be made to do for three or four days. An aggressively fashionable young woman, however, prefers to have her freckles painted nearly every day.

Grading Woman’s Health. Colonel Wright, of Boston, chief of the Massachusetts Bureau of Labor Statistics, issued his fiftieth yearly report last week. His classificaof feminine health is at once minute and comprehensive. He divides the health of women into thirty-eight divisions, which are as follows: “Perfect; excellent; very good; strong and robust; pretty good; quite good; generally good; good to fair; pretty well; not very good;' good; not very strong; not good now; only middling; little better; not very well; not so good; not good; fair; very fair; only fair; fairly good; good to not good; not strong; better; delicate; good to bad; poor; completely tired; very weak; failing; poor for three years; poor for five years; fair to bad; very poor; bad; miserable; very bad.” Colonel Wnght ought to accept a position on some humorous paper, for the above production is one of (die funniest things of the season. Premature Lois of Hair May be entirely prevented by the use of Burnett’s Coconino. The superiority of Burnett’s Flavoring Extracts consists in their perfect purity and strength.

CURRENT MAGAZINES. Demorest’s Monthly sustains its reputation of dealing in a sensible, practical manner with fashions and other household matters which particularly concern women. Macmillan’s for August contains papers on “Redistribution,” referring to the representation of the people in Parliament; “Fiction in France and England,” “Carlyle and Neuberg,” etc. Among the papers in the current Popular Science Monthly may be found: "The Problem of Population,” “Where and How We Remember,” “Hygiene for Smokers,” “National Health and Work,” etc. One of the most interesting papers of the September American Naturalist is on “The Northernmost Inhabitants of the Earth.” It is illustrated and affords many novel views of the habits and peculiarities of the Eskomo tribes. Athletes, bicyclists, lovers of outdoor sports of whatever kind will all find something of interest to themselves in Outing and the Wheelman. It is a bright and breezy periodical, and indications of increased prosperity show that it has found the want it came to fill. The Magazine of Art for September contains a very entertaining illustrated article on “Ships Before Steam,” in which engravings are given of the various styles of inen-of-war that obtained previous to this century, beginning with the earliest boats of the Phoenicians and ending with a British ship of the line. Not the least interesting feature of Cassell’s Family Magazine is “The Gatherer,” or monthly review, illustrated, of inventions, curious discoveries, etc. In its last issue we find German inventors are now making fine watches in which all the wheels are made of compressed paper. The literary matter is exceptionally good. A fine sketch, with portrait, of Emile Littre is given in the September Century, in which the eccentricities of that remarkable French savant are depicted. “On the Track of Ulysses,” illustrated, is a running account of a trip through classic Greece. In the way of a complete story. “Baucha, a Story of Monterey,” is given. The initial article, profusely illustrated, isanaccouut of a bicycle trip from Coventry to Chester. Elizabeth Cady Stanton contributes a remarkable paper to the North American for September, arguing the need of libeial divorce laws. She takes the novel ground—for a woman —that this is demanded in the interest of ill-treated women, and for the sake of children who, without divorce of unhappy parents,are compelled to endure a life of sorrow and trouble, listening to the inevitable bickerings of the contending parents. a fate to be spared them, if possible. Richard Grant White, in the September Atlantic, continues his merciless and amusing criticisms of the numerous individuals who, as he claims, have sought a reflected glory in the anatomizing of William Shakspeare. “Wolfe on the Plains of Abraham,” by Francis Parkman; “The Story of the English Magazines,” by Charles E. Pascoe, and “The Despotism of Party," by Herbert Tuttle, help to make up an interesting number. The fiction of this issue, however, is of the dull order. Lippincott’s Magazine for September is readable and entertaining throughout. There are two sketches of travel suitable to the season—“A Summer Trip to Alaska,” by James A. Harrison, and “Gossip from the English Lakes.” by Amelia Barr. The former is especially noticeable for its fresh and attractive descriptions of the marvelous scenery along the northwest coast of America, while the latter gives us a picture of peasant life and its surroundings in the most beautiful of the English counties. The September Harper is particularly rich in illustrated articles. Mr. Boughton continues his delightful ‘‘Artist’s Strolls in Holland;” Rev. Treadwell Walden has a second paper on the "Great Hall of William Rufus," and Rev. E. P. Roe contributes the tenth of “Nature’s Serial Story." An interesting article is the one on “The Gateway to Boston,” and there are, besides these, “Judith Shakspeare,” and the regular amount of shorter stories, miscellanea, and the ever-welcome editorial department The Manhattan is rapidly approaching the front ranks among the magazines. Its typographical appearance has been improved until it presents a very attractive appearance, and the literary merit increases with each number. Among the contributors to the September issue are Paul Hamilton Hayne, Kate Field, Hope Ledyard, Ernest Ingersoll and Philip Bourke A poem called “The Agnostic to His Love,” by Frank J. Ottarson. the well-known journalist, who died last week in New York, also appears in this number. The Indiana School Journal announces that its August issue is the largest ever made, and that the Journal is now in its twenty-ninth year. To the “Department of Pedagogy,” edited by Geo. P. Brown, and the “Primary Department,” edited by Lewis H. Jones, anew feature is added, conducted by Geo. F. Bass, of Indianapolis. The chief object of this department is to furnish the teacher, especially the young teacher, -with practical lessons and methods adapted to daily school-room work. By this division of labor in editing, Mr. Bell has added greatly to the value of the Indiana School Journal. which has no rival among Western journals of education. Love and Bed Hair in Boston. Bcstnn Globe. Avery bright young white man has become completely infatuated with a handsome colored girl in the community. She resisted hisadvauces so persistently, on the well-taken grounds of the difference in their races, that he became almost frantic from despair. He sat on the pickets of her father's hack fence and moped for a long time, until finally a bright idea struck him. The only barrier between them was a difference in color. Could it not be removed? He flew from the pickets on the wings of Love, and when he again returned he was entirely unrecognizeable, having undergone the transformation which negro impersonators in the minstrel shows experience before the performance. In spite of the piteous appeals of his friends he has persisted in his refusal to remove the coat of tan from his face ever since, and declares that he will win his beloved or dye, or remained dyed in the attempt. His picture, as he sits upon the pickets of her father's back fence, is now being taken by a special artist. There is only one drawback to his appearance. He has red hair.

Embarrassing Position of a Young Mother. Buff do (ourier. On a railroad train, the other day, a fond mother held in her arms a very diminutive specimen of humanity that bawled lustily, and would not be pacified, To every experienced understanding it was clear that the infant's noise denoted a desire for nourishment. The mother was much embarrassed how to act, especially as she seemed to be aware that the crying of the child had attracted every eye in the car toward her. Several times she acted as though she were about to comply with the baby’s demqpd, but as often desisted. At last she turned the boisterous child over to the blushing father, who sat by her side, in the hope that he might soothe it into quiet At that moment the fiendish "book-hoy” came through the car and distributed his paper-covered novels, and, as chance would have it, threw into the mother's lap “What Will He Do With It?" Result, a roar of laughter from those who were near enough to appreciate the coincidence, and more blushing and embarrassment on the part of the fond parents. A Slim Chance for Nicolini. New York Commercial Advertiser. The firm is still Patti & Caux, with a poor prospect of a legal dissolution. Many people havepuzzled their heads to know just what Athlophoros means. It comes from two Greek’words, and signifies prize -bearer, and is so called because it carries off the prize as victor over those terrible maladies, rheumatism and neuralgia. Rev. Wm. P. Corbit, pastor of St. George-street M. E. Church, New Haven, Conn., lost thirty-five pounds of flesh during his excruciating tortures of a rheumatic attack. He was almost instantly relieved by the use of the new speciflo.

RAILWAY TIME-TABLE. (TRAINS RUN BT CENTRAL STANDARD TIME.) Trains marked thus, r. e., reclining chair ear; tiai s., sleeper; thus, p., parlor car; thus, h.. hotel oar. (Bee Line) C., C., C. 4 Indianapolis. Depart—New York and Boston Express, daily, s 6:15 an Dayton, Columbus and New York Express, o. o. , 10:10 ant Anderson and Michigan Express... 10.50 am Wabash and Muncie Express 5:25 om New York and Boston, daily s. c. o. 7:ls"pm BRIGHTWOOD DIVISION. S a !]y 4:00 am 3:30 pm Daily 10:10 am 5:25 om Da’ly 10:50 am 7:15 pm . . Daily 2:10 pm Arrive— Louisville, New Orleans and St. „ Louis Express, daily 6:40 am Wabash. Fort Wayne nnd Muncie Express. 10:35 am Benton Harbor and Anderson Express.... 2:oopm Boston. Indianapolis and Southern Express 5:50 pm hew York and St. Louis Express, i l -v .10:35 pm Chicago, St. Louis 4 Pittsburj. ~~ Depart—New York, Phila lelphia. Washington, Baltimore and Pittsburg Express, daily, s 4:25 am Dayton and Columbus Express, ex* p °t pt Su “ d . av 10:45 am nicnmond Accommodation 4:00 pm lien-York, Philadelphia, Washing, ton. Baltimore anu Pittsburg Express, daily, S„ h 4:55 pm . Darton Express, except .Sunday... 4:55pm Arrive—Richmond Accommodation, except Sunday 9:40 am ew korlc, Philadelphia, Washington, Baltimore and Pittsburg Express, daily 1 1:37 ** Uolumbus and Dayton Express, except Sunday 5:27 pm " ew York, Philadelphia, Washington. Baltimore ana Pittsburg Express, daily 10:20 pm Dayton Express, daily, except Sunday .......IQ-20 Dm L>!^?°t DIV ? Sl< ?, K VIA KCKOMO, P. C.’a’sT. 1.. 8.8. depart—Louisville and Chicago Express, T P ?---• - ~11:15am Louisville and Chicago Fast Ex- . ■ „press, daily, s ...:11:00pm Arrive—Chicago and Louisville Fast Express. daily, a. 3:59 am Chicago and Louisville Express, P- e 3:35 nm Jeffersonville, Madison 4 Indianapolis. Depart—Southern Express, daily, s 4:10 am Louisville and Madison Express 7:25 am Louisville and Madison mail, p. 0.. 3:50 pm Louisville Express, dailv 6:45 nm Arrive—lndianapolis and Madison Mail 9:45 am Indianapolis, St. Louis and Chicago Express, daily, p 10:45 am New York and Northern Fast Express, r. c 7:00 pm ct. Louis, Chicago and Detroit Fast Line, daily, s 10:45 nm Cincinnati, Indianapolis, St. Louis 4 Chicago, CINCINNATI DIVISION. Depart—Cincinnati Fast Line, daily, s. and c 4:00 am Indianapolis. Rtwhville and Columbus Accommodation 7:00 am Cincinnati and Louisville Mail, p. o. 3:45 pm Martinsville Accommodation 4:30 i>m Chicago, Rock Island and Peoria Express, daily 6:35 om Arrive—Martinsville Accommodation 8:40 am Indianapolis Accommodation, daily. 10:30 am Chicago and St. Louis Mail. p. c 11:50 am Indianapolis, Rushvilie and Columbus Accommodation 7:50 pm Chicago, Peoria and St. Louis Night Line, daily, s. and c. c. 10:45 pm CHICAGO DIVISION. Depart—Chicago, Peoria and Omaha Express 7:10 am • Chicago Fast Mail, p. c 12:10 pm Western Express. 5.05 pm Cmcago ana Peoria Nigfht Line. daily, s., r. c ...11:20pm Arrive—Cincinnati Fast Line, daily, c. c. and $ 3:35 am Lafayette Accommodation 10:40 am Cincinnati and Louisville Fast Mail p. c 3:30 pm Chicago, Rock Island and Peoria Ex. 6:20 pm Vandalia Line. Depart—Mail Train ~ 7:15 am Day Express, daily, p., h 11:55 am Terre Haute Accommodation 4:00 pm Pacific Express, daily, 5.., 10:45pm Arrive—New York Express, daily. . 3:50 am Indianapolis Mail and Accom 10:00 am Cincinnati and Louisville Fast Line.. 3:30 pm New York Express, daily, h 4:40 pm Wabash, St. Louis & Pacific. Depart—Detroit and Chicago Mail 7:15 am Toledo, Fort Wayne. Grand Rapids and Michigan Express 2:15 pm Detroit Express, daily, 5.... 7:oopm Detroit through coach on C., St. L. & P. Express. . 11:00 pm Arrive—Detroit Express, daily, s 9:00 am Pacific Express 11:30 am Detroit and Chicago Mail 8:55 pm Detroit through coach on C., St. L. & P. Express 4:00 am Indiana, Bloomington & Western. PEORIA DIVISION. Depart—Pacific Expres and Mail 7:30 am Kansas and Texas Fast Line, r. 0... 5:05 pm Burlington and Rock Island Express, daily, r. c. ands 11:10 pm Arrive —Eastern and Southern Express, daily, r. c. ands 3:50 am Cincinnati Special, r. c 11:15 am Atlantic Express and Mail 6:15 pm RT. LOUIS DIVISION. Depart—Moorefield Accommodation 6:30 am Mail and Day Express 8:05 am Night Express, daily, r. ©.... 11:05pm Arrive —Night Express, daily, r. c 3:55 am * Mail and Day Express 6:00 pm Moorefield Accommodation 6:10 pm EASTERN DIVISION. Depart—Eastern Express, Mail, daily, s, r c. 4:20 au* Dav Express 11 ; 45 am Atlantic Express, r. c. 6:45pm Arrive—Pacific Express, r. c— - 7:00 am Western Express 4:45 pm Burlington and Rock Island Express, daily, sand r. c 10:35 pm Indianapolis & St. Louis. Depart—Day Express, daily, c. c..* 7:10 aTn Paris Express 3:oopm Boston and St. Louis Express, p... b:ls pm New York and St. Louis Express, daily, s. and c. c 10:55 pqj. Arrive—New York and Boston Exoress m daily, c. 6:00 am Local* Passenger, p am Indianapolis Express .. <d:ls pm Day Express, c. c., daily 6:^spm Cincinnati, Hamilton & Indianapolis, Depart—Cincinnati, Dayton & Toldeo 4:00 am Cincinnati. Dayton, Toledo and New York 10:50 am Connersville Accommodation 4:30 pm Cincinnati, Dayton, Toledo and New York Express 6:40 pm Arrive —Cdnnersville Accommodation...... 8:30 am Cincinnati. Peoria and St. Louis. .11:50 am Cincinnati Accommodation 5:00 pm Cincinnati, Peoria and St. Louis... 10:40 pm • Louisville, New Albany A Chicago. (Michigan and Grand Rapids Line.) Depart—Michigan and Grand Rapids Ex.. ..12:01 pm Monbn Accommodation 5:00 Arrive —Monon Accommodation. }0:00 am Michigan and Grand Rapids Ex.... 11:4o pm Indianapolis A Vincennes. Depart—Mail and Cairo Express. . 7 : ?9 am Vincennes Accommodation Arrive—Vincennes Accommodation 19:15 am Mail and Cairo Express 6:30 P” CincinnaTlTWabash A Michigan RaUway. (Over the Bee-line.) Depart—lndianapolis and Grand Rapids Express f*lsa* Michigan Express -11:00am Arrive —Cincinnati and Indianapolis Express 2:14 pm Indianapolis and St. Louis Exp.. - .10:54 pm GRAND HOTEL, INDL4NAPOLIS, XND. Passenger 'elevator and all modern conveniences. Leading Hotel of the city, and strictly first-class. Rates, $2.50, $3 and $3.50 per day. The latterprice including bath. GEO. F. PFINGST Proprietor ITußmumMwi MANUFACTURERS OF ISAWSi THE FINEST AND MOST DURABLE MADE. Orders or Inquiries will hare Prompt Attention. All kinds of saws repaired. Our warranty covers all real defeats. Agency for Tanite Emery Wheels and Grinding M* ehinery. .. ..