Jasper County Democrat, Volume 3, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 July 1900 — Page 6

'Twixt Life and Deatb

BY FRANK BARRETT

CHAPTER I. The Lecture Haji and Literary Institute, Monkton—a long, rectangular room, Mt with six ges jets on hanging T-shaped fittings; the drab walls decorated with half a dozen maps; the coloredrepresentation in sections of a very early ateam engine; an ethnological chart; and other instructive works of art. At one end a small stage, opening fourteen feet by eight, flanked by red curtains, and furnlshed with six footlights and a drop•ceno, showing Athens, the worse for many falls; a grand piano below the proscenium by way Of orchestra. The body of the hall ranged in parallel lines with red-cushioned seats, on which are closely pressed the relatives and friends of pupils connected with Mrs. Vicary Shepherd’s High School and Academy for the daughters of gentlemen. An overflow of bashful youths line the walls right and left. Three very warm-looking gentlemen, each with a packet of programs in his hand and a white favor in his buttonhole, are endeavoring, with smiling assiduity, to find places for a crowd of late coiners. There is a general inspection of pink programs, and a buzzing is heard. Even the professors speak in hushed tones, for the general effect of the hall, despite the stage, is that of a Methodist chapel. X A lady explains to a gentleman—who seems, by some accident, to have come there without knowing why- what is toward: “I’t’s a High School, you know. Mrs. Vicary Shepherd—l’m sorry to see that she's not here; she is indisposed, I’m told —this entertainment has been got up to demonstrate the advantage of the elocution and deportment class.” "Oh, I see.” “She wrote to the great tragedian—what is his name?—on the subject. Here is his reply on the back of the program. It was he who suggested what should be acted.” “You don’t say so! And what is the play he recommends?” • " ‘She Stoops to Conquer.’ My little Milly takes the part of Diggory. She's only twelve, you know. Mrs. Vicary Shepherd assured me that, if she had only been a year or two older, she should have asked me to let her play old Marlow." “Ah, indeed! Then all the performers are—eh—young ladies?” “Oh. of course; and, naturally, Mrs. Vicary Shepherd has carefully revised the play for the use of her pupils. Ah! that is Miss Tinkleton, the music mistress. Ft’s going to begin now.” Miss Tinkleton plays an elaborate sonata of- Schumann—brilliant, but rather long. An awkward pause, in which the hurrying of feet, some giggling, and a confusion of whispering tongues are heard coming from the other side of Athens. A voice from the same remote part asks, “Are you ready now, young ladies?” to which a general reply of “No, no! not yet, not yet!” in accents of terror, creates a titter among the audience. Miss Tinkle-1 ton, with admirable presence of mind, attacks another sonatff; but before she gets to the foot of the page a bell rings, and the curtain rises in three spasmodic jerks. Applause from the parents and friends of the young ladies, who are discovered In the charactershf Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle, facing each other, and in doubt whether they ought to begin before Miss Tinkleton has gone through her sonata. Then Miss Tinkleton stops in the middle of a bar with confusion. The play proceeds, the rigid Mr. Hardcastle and the rigid Mrs. Hardcastle exchanging their quid pro quos with the regular intonatiod of a well-learnt lesson, and the audience already assuming an air of calm repose and heslgnation, when a vociferous halloo beyond the red curtain, followed by the brisk entrance of Tony Lumpkin on the scene, fairly galvanizes the audience into life. The entrance is clearly unrehearsed, for Mrs. Hardcastle incontinently forgets her part. What does that matter? Everyone Is occupied with Tony, and he has the sense to turn the silence to effect. There he stands, a strapping, blackeyed young fellow with a red wig, standing looking audaciously at the audience as he cracks his riding whip nnd whistles through a long row of white teeth. Suddenly, as if recollecting an engagement, he says, "I’m off,” and ogosses the stage with an unseen wink to Mrs. Hardcastle, and a quickly whispered line that she is to take up. As he goes off, battling stoutly with Mrs. Hardcastle at the end of the scene, everyone in the audience consults the program. “Surely that cannot be Miss Vanessa Grahame!" is on everyone’s lips. But it is, though—Nessa herself. yho, taking advantage of Mrs. Vicnry Shepherd’s absence, has determined to play the part afkhe conceives Goldsmith intended it to be played, and, in defiance of Mrs. Vicary Shepherd's express injunction that she should not disfigure herself, has painted her pretty face —and especially her dainty nose—with ochre and rouge, and hidden her pretty, waving, chestnut hair with a red wig scut down with the costume* from Bow street. What is more, she has got hold of an unabridged copy of the play, and is determined to say every word of it. The second scene is sot. And hero, to the terror of Miss Tinkleton at the piano, Nessa introduced the song of the “Three Jolly Pigeons,” which Mrs. Vicary Shepherd had cut out, without a moment's hesitation. Moreover, she introduced a step dance in the final chorus of “Torraddle, torroddle, torrol,” as if unable to contain the exuberance of her spirits. The act finished, and Athens is once more In view. There is commotion in the auditorium. The ladles are surprised. They cannot understand how Mrs. Vicary Shepherd could allow such a performance to be given. Daportniejil and elocution were all very well In their way, and Oliver was, undoubtedly, a very excellent writer, but really such language! And how Miss Grahame, a young lady who, in a few years, would have a position In aodety with three thousand a year, how could she so forget herself? Little Milly'a tawnmi Is quite sure that her daughter would not have played the gart la that dreadful manner. It in a

most serious thing to have such a person in a school where her example, though, of course, contemned, might possibly influence her fellow-pupils. Meanwhile a couple of young gentlemen who have been madly in love with Nessa for the past two years, and three or four others who have seen her tonight for the first time and have not that excuse, loiter outside the hall to see her pass to the' omnibus that is waiting to take her nnd the rest' of the boarders to the school at Westham. She comes down after the small fry, with her arm linked in Miss Tinklcton’s. . The full moon is right overhead; its light glistens on her white teeth and sparkles in her dark eyes ns she laughs. She is clearly trying to make the poor governess forget her trouble, and, indeed, succeeds in raising a faint smile on her lugubrious countenance. But though she is laughing and full of fun, Nessa is not hoydenish. Those who have not seen her before to-night can hardly believe that it was she who played Tony. They expected to find her a red-faced, romping, heavy-sided tomboy; they see a pale-faced young lady, dressed with striking elegance, whose every movement is graceful. But there’s no mistaking those big, fearless eyes, and that capital set of white teeth. - - -

Mrs. Vicary Shepherd accepted only a limited number of pupils as boarders—just as many, in fact, as could be stowed away in the six rooms on the second floor of Eagle House. Among the many duties of a meek-spirited resident governess, Miss Tinkleton had each night to see the young ladies in bed before retiring to her own. She had visited five of the rooms and extinguished the light in them, when she came to the last in the corridor that night. That was Nessa’s. Miss Tinkleton passed it with a slight cough and went downstairs, Nessa having long ago emancipated herself from a rule that was only to be suffered by children. Five minutes later, the doors up the passage began to creak, and heads were cautiously thrust out; then the whiterobed young ladies, seeing the course clear, crept out', treading on their soft, bare toes, clasping the wraps thrown over their shoulders with crossed hands on their bosoms, and made their way noiselessly toward the end room on a visit to their heroine, Nessa. With infinite precaution, one turned rhe handle, while the rest clustered together for common support, and did their best to keep from tittering audibly. But they ceased to giggle altogether when the door was opened, for there before them was the most unexpected spectacle to be found in this world of surprises. Nesea, who had never before been known to cry, was seated on her bed with a handkerchief up to her eyes, and her bosom heaving with stifled sobs. Her hat and jacket lay on a chair, but she had not begun to undress. Two trunks were open, and her room, never too tidy, was littered from end to side with things taken froin-the open drawers and put down anywhere. “I can’t help it," she said, brushing the tears away impatiently and heaving her breast with a long, fluttering sigh; “and now it’s all over, I wish I hadn’t d’one it. I like Mrs. Vie and old Tinkleton. Oh, I love you all, and there's no one else in the world I care anything at all for, or anyone who cares for me. I’m glad you have come. I've been trying to think what each of you would like best for a keepsake. Now you shall choose for yourselves. I know you like that pearl set, Dolly.” She rose in her quick, impulsive way to get the trinkets, but Dolly restrained her, and clinging to her arm, made her sit down again. "You're not going away, dear,” she said. “Oh, no!” murmured the others, echoing her tone of remonstrance. "Yes, 1' am,” said Nessa; "that's why I'm such a goose. I can't bear to think of saying good-by, it has been such a jolly term, hasn’t it?” "Do you think Mrs. Vic will be so very angry?” "Of course she will. Tinkleton says I've ruined the reputation of the school.” “Oh, but you can make some excuse.” "I never did in my life,” Nessa said, bristling up. "I will tell her I am very sorry—and so I am; but that isn't making an excuse.” "Oh, she won’t let you go awny." “She cannot prevent my going, and she won't try to. I’m not a girl now; I’m a woman, and it’s time I left schtgil. I know all the professors can tell me; or at any rate all I choose to learn; and I’m unmanageable. How is Mrs. Vic to punish me when I do wrong? She can’t put me in a corner, or send me to bed. And I always nm doing wrong." The voices mingled in unanimous dissent'.

“Mrs. Vic say* I am. She tells me I encourage those horrid little wretches who stare at me in church and throw letters into the garden; and those professors are quite aa bad—if she only knew It, worse, f hate them. It’s an insult to make love in that cowardly way. 1 think al) men are mean and horrid, don’t you, Dolly?" "Nearly all.” Dolly admitted, with reluctance. “Of course, papa is nice, and so are brother*.” "And uncle*," suggested another. “And some cousins,” hinted a third. “Oh, they don't count,” said Nessa! “I canpot remember my papa, and I don't think that I have a single relative in al) the world!" “Not one?” “No. A stepfather I* not a relative, and," slip added, bending her pretty brows, "I’m glad of it. because I hate him with all my heart.” CHAPTER 11. “Oh, Neaea!” exclaimed a school girl chorus. “I know he is a coward, and I believe he is as wicked a man aa ever lived. Ah, If you only knew!” “Couldn't yau tell us, dear?" "Well, papa was a soldier- a general.

yon know, and ho was gfßod lu battM when I vrna quite a tiny little thing; and mamma was very joung and very pretty, and very rich, because papa left her everything. And so, when I was about •lx years old, she married again; and I believe Mr. Redmond only married for her fortune, and really did not love her at all. I know she was*unhappy; for whenever she came to see me at school, she cried over me as she held me in her arms. She did not live two year* after her marriage; my stepfather broke her heart.” . . “Oh, you don't know, dear.” “Yse, I dq. I'm sure of It. I have seen Mr. Redmond, and he looks like a man who would break a woman’s heart.” “In he very ugly?” “Oh, no! I dare say you would think him handsome; but, oh, he has those long, sleepy, treacherous eyes, and those lines down here by the mouth, don’t you know, that people get who are always trying to conceal a wicked thought with a smile.” “Oh, I hate those people who are always smiling. They get a shiny look on their faces, don’t they? Go on, dear.” “I have only seen him four or five times, but that is often enough for me and for him, too. He knows what I thiuk of him and hates me, and fears me, too, I’m certain. That is why he has kept me all this time at school—why, he would keep me here until he has no longer any legal control over me. He thinks he is safe while I am here—that in this artificial life I can learn nothing about the real world. But he is mistaken, as he shall find. Wait a moment.” Nessa went to one of the boxes and returned with an imposing document tied with pink tape. “Look at this,” she said. The girls gathered closely round her, and looked at the blue foolscap in breathless aw’e. '“This is a copy of mamma’s will. I sent to London for it. It's very short. See, mamma leaves all her estate, ‘real and personal,’ to me, her only child, Vanessa Grahame; but here,” turning the page with evident satisfaction in the crackle it made, “here is the codicil. Mamma has evidently been told that she must provide a guardian (or me during my minority, nnd make some disposition of her property in case I should die before coming of age. And here she makes James Redmond my sole guardian, with power to draw eight hundred pounds a year from' the invested capital, to provide for my education and personal requirements. ‘And further, in the event of the said Vanessa Grahame dying before the age of twenty-one'—l’m only eighteen pow, you know-all the property goes to that; horrid stepfather, the aforesaid James Redmond. Now, what do you think of that?” “Your poor mamma could not have loved him, or she would have left him somq money, wouldn’t she, dear?” said Dolly. “Of course she would; but how is it that leaving nothing to him in the will, she leaves me to his tender mercies in the codicil? Can you explain that, any of you?” ' None of them could. “I can explain it,” said Nessa, raising her voice in excitement; “this codicil is a forgery!” “Oh, Nessa!” “It is, and it’s just the sort of forgery a cunning coward would make. He had not the courage to forge a will making the whole estate his; but he had just enough to substitute his own name for one that mamma had written, and so get a nice little income for ever so many years out of the money for my schooling and clothes. He could do that without raising suspicion. What have 1' cost? Not two hundred a year; that puts him in possession *of six hundred pounds, besides the use of my house, Grahame Towers.” She drew a letter from her pocket with impressive gravity, and, opening it, read: “ ‘My dear Nessa’—what right has he to call-me his dear Nessa?—‘l have not a nominal but an actual authority to control your movements, and while that authority is mine I intend to keep you at Eagle House or some similar establishment. Yours, etc., James Redmond.' The letter is dated from my own house, Grahame Towers. It came this morning, just before we were going to the rehearsal. You can imagine my indignation!” (To be continued.)

Feat of an Indian Juggler.

One day In the market place of an Inland village I saw a curious performance,” writes an East Indian traveler in the Cincinnati Enquirer. “It was conducted by two men—one old and, emaciated, carrying a native drum; the other young and well fed, fantastically gowned with an overskirt of colored handkerchiefs and a multitude of bells, which jangled noisily at bls slightest movement; long, ragged hair—altogether a hideous figure. "The drummer began a weird tomtommlng, and the other man an incantation. Then he extended a ‘supra’— a bamboo tray used by all natives—on which any one who pleases places a large handful -of rice and the same quantity of grain. The two ingredients are thoroughly amalgamated, so that It would in the ordinary way take hours to separate them. “Now the fantastic man with his tray begins. He turns around (the drummer also keeping time), faster and faster, In a giddy vortex, the tray at times almost out of bls hands, yet so cleverly handled that not a grain falls out. It is very trying to watch, but In a couple df minutes both stop simultaneously, and the man shows to Hie wondering spectators two little heaps, one of the rice and the other grain, at different end* of the tray, which In liis sickening gyrations he has been able to separate by some extraordinary manipulation.” BL George’s Bay, Newfoundland, contains an Immense coal field fully twenty miles In length, and ten In breadth. It has been estimated that if the output were to reach 250,000 tons per annum, the coal bed would not be exhausted in a century. In ancient Egypt, when a cat died in a private bouse, the Inmates shaved their eyebrow*. The killing of a cat, even accidentally, was considered a capital offense. During the last two year* 11,370 men have been kilted in tattle

FARM AND GARDEN NOTES.

ITEMS OF INTEREST ON ACRICUL. - TURAL TOPICS. A Sura Crop -Beat* At a Late Crop-Crow* Ing Traea From SaadaSmoka and Bee* —Winter Killed Clover- Clean the Side* of the Roads-Ete, Etc. A Sure CropOne of the surest crops, and which gives a large supply in proportion to seed can be planted at any time, and space occupied, is string beans. The the plants delight in warm weather. Keep the soil clean and free from weeds and the beans will produce bounrifully. ■ -- —t' Beet* As a Late Crop. Beets may be planted as late as July for a successive table crop. Ground that has been well limed suits well. For stock the sugar beet is considered one of the best. Mangel wurzels grow to large size, but contain inure woody fibre and are coarser than sugar beets, though they give larger yields. Crowing Trees From Seeds. Good results are reported by those who have planted seeds and grown the trees on the locations intended for them, the trees being grafted with the variety desired, but such trees will be longer coming Into bearing compared with the time saved in burying from the nurseryman. This plan of growing from seed has been of advantage with the peach more than with the apple •nd pear.

In using smoke to subdue the bees tvhen working among them, use as little as possible. Upon opening the hive and giving them a blast or two from the smoker you can soon learn their temper. It is cruel to give them a heavy smoking to subdue them, which is often done by the inexperienced beekeeper. If the bees are in an ugly mood let them alone for a few days rather than to try and smoke them enough to conquer them. Winter-Killed Clover. •Inch clover gets winter killed l>ecavse the frost lifts it up when the ground freezes, and when it thaws again the soil settles away from the roots and leaves them bare to be dried up by the sun. A going over with a heavy roller would press these roots down Into the soil and firm the soil up to them, so that they would take hold again and grow. The more porous the soil the greater the liability of frost throwing and killing the roots of clover and grass. Even the trampling of cattle and sheep over a field may help to save the roots of the clover, though we prefer the roller, as it can be made to reach every part of the field.

Clean the Sides of the Roads. There may be a picturesque beauty in having the roadside covered with weeds and bushes of all sorts, even as artists often profess* they see beauty in tumble-down buildings nnd ruins, but It is not a beauty thnt appeals to the eyes of the thrifty farmer. Artists also assert that “the line of beauty is not a straight line,” but what farmer would prefer to see a field in which the rows of plants are mathematically straight than one In which they.curved like the course of a snake. All have not the ability to plow a straight furrow Invariably, nor has every one the capital to put their buildings In good repair, but almost every one can find time to cut down bushes and weeds along the road nnd perhaps to seed them to grass. A day in a year would clean up a long stretch of road, and the time so spent would soon be saved by checking the supply of weed seed on the farm adjoining. Some of the bushes may be large enough to cut up for summer wood, and some of the weeds may be fed to the hogs If cut before the seeds are formed, or they may be piled up and rotted, or all bushes and woods may be dried and burned on the ground, but the main point is to put them where they will not cumber the ground any longer, or be an eyesore to passersby.

Summer Odor* On the Farm. The odors of summer are more numerous and ranker than they are in winter, and to prevent contamination of the milk or butter exceeding caution is necessary. Absolute cleanliness, white always In order and a requisite In an up-to-date dairy, must bo particularly observed In summer. The heat acts everything to “festering,” If it is at all inclined that way. An ordinary condition of decay and source of odor, will quickly be converted Into the worst possible condition. The milking should be done In some place that Is entirely free from such conditions, and the dairy bouse—which every farmer should have—ought to be In a like situation. Ice ought to be in ex-cry dairy, but In its absence keep the better In a well or a spring house. If there Is one, but never In the cellar. Neither milk nor butter should be kept In the cellar. It is better to market the surplus butter at once, if there are no fa. duties for keeping It cool. The faei should never be lost sight of that butter Is best when It Is eaten as soon as made, and that If preservation by cold itorage Is not possible, it had better

be marketed at once s The plffn of keep-. Ing butter in summer by wrapping It with wet flannel is a good one, and worth adoption.—The Epitomist. Doe* Replanting Com Pay ? My experience and observation have led me to believe that replanting, as usually practiced, does not pay. There may be exceptions, however. In the first place, we should avoid as much as it is possible the necessity for replanting. If the ground is in good condition, seed selected with the grains of uniform size and tested, and if the planter is In good order and enough seed used, we will seldom fail to have a good stand. If from any cause any great amount of corn should be missing, it Is better to harrow the field over and start anew. Last spring I planted a field in good time with large yellow corn that was somewhat moldly, and only a small portion came up. I replanted with a smaller, white corn, using the same plates and planting in the same rows. All of my second as well as a part of the first planting came up and the result was I had a large crop of fodder and nubbins, but a small crop of marketable corn. But the question has reference more directly to the former who may be seen up to July going over his fields and filling up the empty hills. One stalk in a hill will generally produce from one to two good ears, but by putting in four or five more grains wa probably, half a dozen nubbins but no corn. It takes more time to cut and’husk a hill with only fodder for a reward. Ordinary good soil ought to produce from three to five good stalks, but I would rather have one good stalk to the hill than an armful of fodder with a lot of nubbins. The former will always meet with a ready sale, while a lot of nubbins cannot be sold. Replanting makes the time of ripening irregui lar. Many fanners delay their corn ! cutting on account of a lot of late stalks and thereby have their whole crop damaged by early frost. Make every effort to get a good stand in the start and let it go at that.—D. C. Blalock, in New England Homestead.

Good Points for the Hay Harvest. Plenty of help and tools help to lighten hard work in haying and harvesting. An extra man at just the right time for one or two hours may mean the saving of one or two loads of valuable hay. With a good stand of grass it does not take long to cut down a few loads, but with threatening weather it is sometimes quite a task to secure the hay In good shape. All tools should be thoroughly overhauled and put in good condition before the season starts. New sections and rivets for the moving machine and some extra guards should be obtained, as well as a ew bolts of various sizes, so as to make as little delay as possibld*in the case of a break down. The guards should be sharpened as well as the knives, especially if there is any thick, fine grass to be cut. On small farms two wagons are usually enough to handle the hay. The forks should also be cleaned up and the tines sharpened. Start the moving machine as early in the season as possible, as early cut hay Is worth a good deal more for feeding. Do not cut any grass while wet with dew or rain, for it will dry much quicker when standing than after being cut. The mower should be started as early in the morning as the grass Is dry and run for a few hours. Then start the tedder, and in the middle of the afternoon rake in windrows and put into high, small bunches toward night. Open these out (he next morning so that the bottom will l>e toward the sun and as soon as fairly dry l»e----gln to draw to the stack or barn. Clover and oat hay will need sometimes two or three days of good weather In which to cure.

On some of the western ranches very little bay Is drawn on wagons. It Is cut nnd cured in the usual way and horses are hitched to the end of a sweep and the hny drawn to the stack. In Pennsylvania and Maryland where the farms are often long and narrow, or In sections where large farms exist, it Is customary to use four horses for a team with a hay rigging 20 feet long, but on small farms in hilly countries a rigging 12 to 14 feet long is large enough.

Short and Useful Pointers. Never let up on the chicken Ike. If possible keep the flies out of the stable. Alfalfa thrives best on soils containing lime. Keep the poultry in the house during a rainy day. Don't ever buy second-hand supplies for the dairy. It Is said that cornmeal gives the best results when wet. The business of sheep-growing Is a good industry to foster. Prune your trees so thnt they wkl make a good appearance. Never allow diseased animals to remain In a stable with healthy ones. Sheep are the safest and best general stock for the farmer to handle. If you live on a farm and must keep a dog, have nothing but a Collie. A harness closet la a big help toward keeping the harness in good shape. The profitable sheep for the farmer Is the one that rarely needs docforlug A little sliced potato In the hay or

grain will be appreciated by the sheepu Through every growing plant * stream of fresh water Is constantly running. Be careful how you qnt down the trees. It takes a long while to grow them. Clean and thorough cultivation is positively necessary to produce decent crops. If there are any wounds on your trees paint them with linseed oil and white lead. . Make it your business to find out what your cow needs in the way of food to make her profitable. It is a mistake to have too many varieties of apples, either for home use or for market, in the orchard. Experiments at vartousstations show that skim-milk and buttermilk have about the same feeding value. The great drawback to blackberry culture is the borer. This pest can be controlled, however, by prompt action. Corn fodder is not to be despised, for fifty-five per cent, .of the value of the corn crop plant is In the stalk and leaves. All cows in the dairy should be of a kind that belong to the dairy type. If you are fattening cattle keep only those of the beef type. After cutting the weeds never throw tltem on the manure pile. Burning them is the better way of getting rid of the seeds that they contain. Molasses when used as a portion of a ration fed to pigs, steers and sheep results in a rapid increase in live weight. When molasses is fed to milch cows the amount of fat nnd sugar in the milk is increased.—New York Weekly Witness.

CAPE NOME MILLIONAIRES.

They Are Cutting Wide Swaths in California At Present. “Some of the most nmusing features of life on the Pacific coats just at present.” said a California man at one of , the hotels, “are being furnished by the Cape Nome millionaires. You can bump against them almost anywhere in 'Frisco, and their strange adventures are the theme of half the current stories about town. I ought to explain,” continued the Californian, “that anybody who conies down from Nome is immediately rated as a millionaire. He may not have the million with him, but, if not, he owns claims ‘worth at least that amount’ on the fabled tundra, where the moss is rooted in solid mineral. Most of the lucky miners who have reached the city brought along anywhere from $5,000 to $20,000 apiece. With very few exceptions they are ignorant men of the laboring class, and they have tried industriously to put their Meas of high life into immediate execution. “A big Scandinavian ex-sallor, who had a bag of dust worth SIB,OOO. put up at the Palace for several days, but was so intimidated by the surrounding magnificence and haughty servants that he was afraid to ask for anything and nearly starved. At last he got desperate and rushed down to a ten-cent hashery, where he ordt. “d four plates of bam and eggs and paralyzed the tough’ waiter with a S2O tip. Still another happened to like the tune a curbstone organ grinder was inflicting on the public and promptly bought the instrument, including a very lively monkey Later on he paid a Chinaman to carry the outfit away. “Those are cases I know about myself. A really distressing affair amidst all the coinedj- of new riches was that of an old miner who had been in Alaska ever since ’BS and finally struck pay dirt at Nome. He brought back about $7,500, and, the first night in town, was lured Into a dive, where somebody picked his pocket and stole every cent he had. The poor fellow hadn't even bought a new suit of clothes. All the fruit of fifteen years of incredible hardship had vanished like a dream. -New Orleans Tlmes-Demoerat.

The Telephon [?]graph.

The telephonograpb is a new invention, which comes to us from Denmark. Not quite for the first time, for we had heard of ft about a year ago; since then, though, the inventors have made progress. Yesterday the Postmaster General," Von Podblelsky, was present at the experiments. The telephonograph ii a combination of the telephone with a newly constructed phonograph, which makes It possible to fix and preserve conversations In the absence of the intended bearer, so that he can listen to the message after his return. But the Importance of the invention reaches much further. Through ilia use of inagnolophonogriipliy. It Is possible to multiply the effect of the urand nnd to give the sound greater force. Thereby It Is possible to greatly extend the lines of the present telephony system. The distances will taconie much greater. , There Is still another ndfnutiigv—simultaneous conduction f*r several conversations through the Mine wire.— Berlin correspoiub-nec of the London MW.

Remarkable Festa of Memory.

Throe little Imys w<jA dlsctuslng the question of memory. Charles raid: "1 remember what happened when 1 wan two years old.” Henry remarked: "I can remember tietore I was born. I cried for a whole week became 1 wns a fra Id I should be a girl.” The third trey raid: “I can remember farther back than that. I can remember the day I*was told: ‘Stand up, Johnnie, and have your eyes put In.’”