Nappanee Advance-News, Volume 18, Number 30, Nappanee, Elkhart County, 7 October 1896 — Page 3

MOTHER'S SONG. CP'S the sweetest of the girls, 7rm kUslng of her curls, _r t hor'> tollin' lUce a shower o’er my bosom: . , i've never seen the skies ** blossom! nock away, rock away. Where the sleepy people stay, . t he birds an’ all the fairies are a-stng-in’: Rock away, rock away, Till the breakin’ o’ the day, away whUe the dream-bells are R a-rlngln’l 4 qhe’s the sweetest of the girls, In’ I’m klssin’ of her curls, _ r they’re lyin’ like the moonlight on my ** bosom: But there ne’er was moon as bright As my darlin’s curls o’ light, •Nor a sweet rose that is sweeter than my blossom! Rock away, rock away, Where the sleepy people stay, Rock away where the poppy-blooms are swingin’; Rock away, rock away, * \ Till the breakin* o’ the day, away while the dream-bells are a-ringin’l „jr. U Stanton, In Chicago Tlmes-Herald.

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THE DODSE ¥ OF THE WOLF. •9 0 BY STANLEY J.WEYMAK.

CHAPTER IX.— Continued. •Show the book if anyone challenges you,” said Croisette to him, shrewdly- Croisette was so much of a hoy himself, with his fair hair like a halo about his white, excited face, that the picture of the two, one advising the other, seemed to me a strangely pretty one. “Show the books and point to the cross on them. And Heaven send you safe to your college.” “I would like to know your name, if you please, the boy. His coolness and dignity struck me as admirable under the circumstances. “I am Maximilian de Bethune, son of the Baron de Rosny.” “Then,” said Croisette, briskly, “one good turn has deserved another. Tour father, yesterday, at Etampes—no, it was the day before, but we have not been in bed —warned us—” He broke off suddenly; then cried: “Ilun! run!” The boy heeded no second warning, indeed. He was off like the wind down the street, for we had seen, a'nd so had he, the stealthly approach of two or three prowling rascals on the lookout for a victim. They caught sight of him, and were strongly inclined to follow him; but we were their match in numbers. The street was otherwise empty at the moment; and we showed them three excellent reasons why they should give him a clear start. II is after-adventures are well known; for he, too, lives. He .was stopped twice after he left us. In each case he escaped by showing his book of officesOn reaching the college the porter refused to admit him, and he remained for some time in the open street exposed to constant danger of losing, his life, and knowing not what to do. At length he induced the gatekeeper, by the present of some small pieces of money, to call the principal of the college, and this man humanely concealed him for three days. The massacre being then at an end, two armed men in liis father’s pay sought him out and lestored him to his friends. So near was France to losing her greatest minister, the Duke de Sully. To return to ourselves. The lad o.ut of sight, we instantly resumed our purpose, and trying to shut our eyes and ears to the cruelty, and ribaldry, and uproar through which we had still to pass, we counted our turnings with a desperate exactness, intent only on one thing— to reach Louis de Pavannes, to reach the house opposite to the Hea.l of Erasmus, as quickly as we could. We presently entered a long, narrow street. At the end of it the river was visible, gleaming and sparkling in the sunlight. The street was quiet; quiet and empty. There was no living soul to be sei’n from end to end of it, only a prowling dog. The noise of the

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w looked shuddering at the face. *®:n:ilt raging in other parts was.softtoed here by /distance and the ■ntcrhouses. We seemd to be able V) breathe more freely. "This should be our street,” said Noisette. I nodded.- At the Same moment I * s pied, half way down it, the sign we -needed and pointed to it. But ah! were in time? Or too late? That was Ihe question. By a single impulse we b roke into a run, and shot down the r nad\vay at speed. A few yards shor: the Bead of Erasmus we came one % one, Croisette first, to a full stop. bill stop! Ihe house opposite the bookseller s as sacked! gutted from top to bottom, was a tall house, immediately frontJ ”g the street, and every window in n ' v is broken. The door hung forlorny !)n one hinges glaring cracks in its •lirface showing where the ax had splintered it. Fragments of glass and ' vart , Hung dut and shattered in sheer strewed the rtepsi aot

down one corner cf the latter a dark red stream trickled—to curdle by and by in the gutter. Whence came the stream? Alas, there was something more to be seen yet, something our eyes instinctively sought last of all. i’bpuuuj 1 " 1 - 1 } ”' It lay on the threshold, the head hanging back, the wide glaring eyes looking up to the summer sky whence the sweltering heat would soon pour down upon it. We looked and shuddered at the face. It was that of a serv nt, a valet who had been with Lotus at Caylus. We recognized him at once, for we had known and liked him. He had carried our guns on the hills a dozen times, and told us stories of the wur. The blood crawled Blowly from him. He was dead. Croisette began to shake all over. He clutched one of the pillars, which bo.'e up the porch, and pressed his face against its cold surface, hiding his eyes from the sight. The worst had come. In our hearts I think we had always fancied some accident would save our friend, some stranger warn him. “Oh, poor Kit!” Croisette cried, bursting suddenly into violent sobs. “Oh, Kit! Kit!” CHAPTER X. lIAU, DAU, UUGUENOTSs His late majesty, Henry the Fourth, I remember—than whom no braver man wore sword, who loved danger, indeed, for its own sake, and courted it as a mistress, could never sleep on the night before an action I have heard him say himself that it was so before the fight of Arques. Croisette partook of this nature, too, being high-strung and apt to be easily over-wrought, but never until the necessity for exertion had passed away; while Marie and I, though not a whit stouter at pinch, were slower to feel and less easy to move—more Germanic, in fact.

I name this here partly lest it should be thought after what I have just told of Croisette that there was anything of the woman about him—save the tenderness; and partly to show’that we acted at this crisis each after his manner. While Croisette turned pale and trembled, and hid his eyes, I stood dazed, looking from the desolate house to the face stiffening in the sunshine, and back again; wondering, though I had seen scores of dead faces since daybreak, and a plenitude of suffering in all dreadful shapes, how Providence could let this happen to us. To us! In his instincts man is as selfish as any animal that lives. I saw nothing indeed of the dead face and dead house after the first convincing glance. I saw instead with hot, hot eyes the old castle at home, the green fields about the brook, and the gray hills rising from them; and the terrace, and Kit coming to meet us, Kit with face and parted lips and avid eyes that questioned us! And we with no comfort to give her, no love to bring back to her! A faint noise behind as of a sign creaking in the wind, roused me from this most painful reverie. I turned round, not quickly or in surprise or fear. Ilatlier in the same dull wonder. The upper part of the bookseller’s door was ajar. It was thgt I had heard opened. An old woman was peering out at us. As our eyes met, she made a slight movement to close the door again. Put I did not stir, and seeming to be reassurred by a second glance, she nodded to me in a stealthy faslyoh. I drew a step nearer, “Pst! Pst! she whispered. Her wrinkled old face, which was like a Normandy apple long kept, was soft with pity as she looked at Croisette. “Pst!” “Well!” I said, mechanically. “Is he taken?” she muttered. “Who taken?” I asked stupidly. She nodded towards the forsaken house, and answered: “The young lord who lodged there? Ah! sirs,." she continued, “he looked gay and handsome, if you’ll believe me, as he came from the king’s court yester even! As bonny a sight in his satin coat, and liis ribbons, as my eyes ever saw! And to think that they should be. hunting him like a rat to-day!” The woman’s words were few and simple. But what a change they made in my world! How my heart awoke from its stupor, and leapt up with a new jov and a new-born hope! “Did he get away?” I cried eagerly. “Did he escape, mother, then ? , “Ay, that he did!” she replied, quickly “That poor fellow, yonder he lies quiet enough now, God forgive him his heresy, say I!—kept the door manfully while the gentleman got on the roof and ran right down the street on the. tops of the houses, witli them firing and hooting at him; for all the world as if he had been a squirrel and they a pack of l>oys with stones!” “And he escaped?” “Escaped!” she answered, more slowly, shaking her old head in doubt. “I do not know about that! I fear they have got him by now, gentlemen. I have been shivering and shaking upstairs with my husband-he is in bed, good man, and the safest place for him the saints have mercy upon us Lu > I heard them go with their shouting and gunpowder right along to the river, vid I doubt they will take him between this and the chatelet! I doubt they “How long ago was it, dame ?” I cried. “Ob' mavbe half an hour. lerhaps you are ‘friends of his?” she added, questioningly. . T But 1 did not stay to answer her. I shook Croisette. who had not heard a word of this, by the shoulder. There is a chance that he has escaped! I cried in his ear. “Escaped do you hear?” And I told him hastily what she li&d snul* . ,v* 4 It was fine, indeed, and asigtit to see tears dry in his eyes, and energy and the blood rush to his cheeks, and the Ind muscle of his face. “Then there hone!” he cried, grasping my arm. “Hope, Anne! Come! Come* Do not let us lose another instant. If he be alive let unjoin him!'* ■■ w .

The old woman tried to detain us, but in vain. Nay, pitying us, and fearing, I think, that we were rushing on our deaths, she cast aside her caution and called after us aloud. Wh took no heed, waited for our answer, as fast as young limbs could carry us down the street. The exhaustion we had felt a moment before when all seemed lost—be it remembered that we had not been to bed or tasted food for many hours—fell from us on the instant, and was clean gone and forgotten in the joy of this respite. Louis was living and,for the moment had escaped. Escaped! But for how long? We soon had our answer. The moment we turned the corner by the riverside, the murmur of a multitude, not loud, but continuous, struck our ears, eveD as the breeze off the water swept our cheeks. Across the river lay the thousand roofs of the He de la Cite, all sparkling in the sunshine. But we swept to the right, thinking little of that sight, and checked our speed on finding ourselves on the skirts of the crowd. Before us was a bridge—the Pont au Change, I think —and at, its head on our side of the water stood the Chatelet, with its hoary turrets and battlements. Between us and the latter, and backed only by the river, w as a great open space half-filled with people, mostly silent and watchful, come together as to a show, and betraying, at present at least, no desire to take an active part in what was going on. We hurriedly pluuged into the throng, and soon caught the cue to the quietness and the lack of movement* whicn seemed to prevail, and whicli at first sight had puzzled us. For a moment the absence of the dreadful symptoms we had come to know so well—the flying and pursuing, the random blows, the shrieks and curses and battering on doors, the tipsy yells, had reassured us. But the relief was shortlived. The people before us were under control. A tighter grip seemed to close upon our hearts as we discerned this, for we knew that the wild fury of the populace? like the rush of a bull, might have given some chance of escape—in this case as in others. But this cold-blooded ordered search left none.

Every face about us was turned in the same direction; away from the river and toward a block of old houses which stood opposite to it. The space immediately in front of these was empty, the people being kept back by a score or so of archers of the guard set at intervals, and by as many horsemen, who kept riding up and down, belaboring the bolder spirits with the flat of their swords, and so preserving a line. At each extremity of this—more noticeably on our left where the line, curved round the angle of the buildings—stood a handful of riders, seven in a group, perhaps. And alone in the middle of the space so kept clear, walking his horse up and down and gazing at the houses, rode a man of great stature, booted and armed, the feather’ nodding in his bonnet. I could,not see his face, but I had no need to see it. I knew him, and groaned aloud. It was Dozers! I understood the scene better now. The horsemen, stern, bearded Switzers for the most part, who eyed the rabble about them with grim disdain, and were by no means chary of their blows, were all in colors and. armed to the teeth. The order and discipline were of his making; the revenge of his seeking. A grasp as of steel had settled upon our friend, and I felt that his last chance was gone. Louis de Pavannes might as well be lying on his threshold with his dead servant by his side, as be in hiding within that ring of ordered swords. It was with despairing eyes we looked at the old wooden houses. They seemed to be bowing themselves towards us, their upper stories projected so far, they were so decrepit. Their roofs were a wilderness of gutters and crooked gables, of tottering chimneys and wooden pinnacles and rotting beams. Amongst these I judged Kit’s lover was hiding. Well, it was a good place for hide and seek—with any other player than Death. In the ground floors of the houses there were no windows and no doors; by reason, I learned afterwards, of the frequent flooding of the river. But a long wooden gallery raised on struts ran along the front, rather more than the height of a man from the ground, and access to this was gained by a wooden staircase at each end. Above this first gallery was a second, and above that a line of windows set between the gables. The block—it may have run for 70 or 80 yards along the shore—contained four houses, each with a door opening on to the lower gallery. I saw indeed that but for the vidame’s precautions Louis might well have escaped. Had the mob once poured helter-skelter into that labyrinth of rooms and passages he might with luck have mingled with them, unheeded and unrecognized, and effected his escape when they retreated.

But now there were sentries on each gallery and more on the roof. Whenever one of the latter moved or seemed to be looking inward —where a search jwrty. I understood, were at work —indeed if he did but turn his head, a thrill ran t hrough the crowd and a murmur arose, which once or twice swelled to a savage roar, such as earlier had made me tremble: When this happened the impulse came, it seemed to me, from the farther end of the line. There the rougher elements were collected, and there I more than once saw Bezers’ troopers in conflict with the mob. In that quarter too a savage chant was presently struck up. the whole gathering joining in and yelling with an indescribably appalling effect: ■ Han! Haul Hucuenots! Faites r-laec aux Bapegots!” in derision of the old song said to be popular apiongst the Brotestant*. But in the Huguenot version the last words were of course tranposed. We had worked our way by this time to the front of the line, and looking into one another** eye*, mutely asked a

question; but not even Croisette had an answer ready. There could be no answer but one. What could we do? Nothing. We were too late. Too late again! And yet how dreadful it was tn ,tnnH .till p-njl less mob and see our friend, the touch of whose hand we knew so well, done to death for their to death as the old woman hdd said like any rat, not a soul save ourselves pitying him! Not a soul to turn sick ut his cry of agony, or shudder at the glance of his dying eyes. It was dreadful indeed. “Ah, well,” muttered a woman beside me to her companion—there were many women in the crowd—-“it is down with the Huguenots, say I! It is Lorraine is the flue man! But after all yon is a bonny fellow and a proper, Margot! I saw him leap from roof to roof over Love Lane, as if the blessed saints had carried him. And him a heretic!" “It is the black art,” the other answered, crossing herself. “Maybe it is! But he will need it *ll to give that big man the slip to-day," replied the first speaker, comfortably. “That devil!” Maigot exclaimed, pointing with a stealthy gesture of hate at the vidame. And then in a fierce whisper, with inarticulate threats, she told a story of him, which made me shudder. “He did! And she in religion, too!” she concluded. “May our Lady of Loretto reward him.” The tale might he true for all I know, horrible as it was! I had heard similar ones attributing things almost as fiendish to him, times and again; from that poor fellow lying dead on Pavannes’ .doorstep, for one. and from others besides. And the vidame in his pacing to and fro turned towards us, I gazed at him fascinated by his grim visage and that story. His eye rested on the crowd about us, and I trembled, lest even at that distance he should recognize us. And he did! I hnd forgotten his keenness of sight. His face flashed suddenly into a grim smile. The tail of his eye resting upon us, and seeming to forbid us to move, he gave some orders. The color fled from my face. To escape indeed was impossible, for we were hemmed in by the press, and could scarcely stir a limb. Yet I did make one effort. [TO BE CONTINUED.] ODD DELUSIONS. How Some Epileptic Victims Are Warn*4 of an Approaching Fit. In a recent London, by Dr. W. R. Gowers, of the lloyal society, some curious facts were stated concerning the optical delusions suffered by victims of epilepsy at the commencement of their attacks. One man for years was always warned of a coming lit by a sensation of thumping or beating in the chest, which gradually extended to the head. Then two pulsating lights appeared, which seemed to draw nearer. In an instant these were gone, and iii their place was the figure 61 an uged woman wearing a red cloak, and always the same in appearance and dress, who offered the patient something that had the odor of Tonquin beans. Then the patient invariably lost consciousness Another case cited was that of a v oman whose attacks were invariably preceded by a vision of London lying in ruins, the channel of the Thames being emptied of water in order to receive the rubbish of the destroyed city, and the patient believing herself to be the only survivor of all its inhabitants. Still another patient always seemed to himself, just before an attack, to have been set down in the midst of a broad field of grass. The cause of these singular deceptions lies in the brain, but its mode of working is not yet thoroughly under stood.—Youth’s Companion. A Little Too Economic. A gentleman residing in New York recently hired a colored boy for a valet. The boy proved a valuable acquisition ifi everything except one, ami that was his practice of economy, ne was forever endeavoring to save money for his employer. One day he was sent to get some letters stamped and to post them. Upon his return the gentleman asked him if he had attended to it nil right The boy replied: “I’s found a lot ol gemmen getting stamps, and as they didn’t charge them anything to put the letters in the slot I saved you 20 cents, ’cause 1 slipped yours in without stamps.” The colored hoy \yas too •economic, and he was dispensed with.— Harper’s Round Table. The Realistic. Gretta —Papa, if you’ll be vewy dood I’ll show you a lovely picture of a twocodile. Papa—l’ll promise; now let me see the picture. Gretta —Here, papa; all down on 'is side de paper. Papa (examining a blank sheet)— Where is it? i don’t sec any crocodile, Gretta—O’ torse pot, papa, ’tause he’s run’d away.—Judge. Nothing In It. “What's this?” asked Marie, looking at the blank piece of cardboard which. Wiibur had handed her, “That’s Chollie Dudekin’s picture by the Roentgen, process.” “But I don’t see anything.” “That’s just it. This Roentgen light method Likes inferiors. Barring Ms exterior, there isn’t any tiling to C'holly to take.” —Harper’s Bazar. To Make a Sale. “I’m afraid to buy this wheel; it may make me get thin.” “Oh, no; wheeling increases the flesh.” "Well, but there’s my wife; she want* a wheel and is afraid she will get fat.” “Not at ail; most people who wheel lose flesh right along.”—Chicago lie®I ord. Tobacco Chewing niieband (after ascending stair*)—“l am 11 out of breath.” Wife— “Then kim aoe, pic***.” —S. Y. Weekly. ; \.

FOJji YOUNG PEOPLE A VEXED QUESTION. I went In the schoolroom, one morning; My two little girls were there, ever thotratlaatiftndlng, ■ Each with * puzzled air. Mary glanced up as I entered. And said, with an anxious look: “Mamma, perhaps you can help us. It says here, In this book, “That we bought Louisiana From the French. Now that seems queer! For Nellie and I don’t understand How they could send It here, “Whoever brought the land over Must have taken so many trips. Nell says they put It In baskets; But I think It must have been ships.” —Ella Johnson Kerr. In St. Nicholas. CHILD INVENTORS. History of the First Teleseope and the Argand Burner. That many children have great ingenuity of mind in fashioning toys of various kinds is well known. That they have very frequently turned this quality to good use in the Invention and constrnction of some of our most useful mechanical appliances is attested by the following instances: The children of a Dutch spectacle maker happened to be playing one day with some of their father’s glasses in front of the shop door. Placing two of the glasses together they peeped through them, and were exceedingly astonished to see the weather cock of the neighboring steeple brought within a short distance of their eyes. They were naturally puzzled, and called their father to see the strange Hight. When the spectacle muker looked through the glasses he was no less surprised than the children had been. He went indoors -ami thought the matter over, and then the idea occurred to him that he might construct a curious new toy which w ould give people a good deal of amusement. Not. long after the telescope was an accomplished fact.; ■ A poor Swiss, named Argand, indented a lamp with a wick fitted into a hollow cylinder, thus giving a supply of oxygen to the interior ns well us tlie exterior of the circular flume. At first Argand used the Jump without a glass chimney, the invention of which important adjunct would doubtless have been delayed for some time hnd it not been for the thoughtless experiments of hia little brother. One day when Argand was busy in his workroom, and sitting heibrc the burning lamp, this boy was amusing himself by placing a bottomless oil flask over different articles. Suddenly he placed it upon the flame of the lamp, which instantly shot up the long circular neck of the flask with increased brilliancy. Argand did not nllow such a suggestive occurrence to escape him. The idea of the lamp chimney almost immediately came into his head, and in a short time his invention was perfected.

POSTAL CARD MAGNET.

A Pretty Experiment Which Mmt Not Ho Tried in Uzuip Weather.

No doubt you’ve all made a rubber comb pick up bits of paper by first rubbing it briskly on a rough cout sleeve, but did you ever hear of a postal card that could Iks turned into a magnet? Balance a walking stick on the back of a chair and tell the s|K'ctutors that you are going to mnke it fall without touching it or the chair. Having thoroughly dried a postal card, preferably before an open Urn, rub it briskly on sleeve and then hold it neftr one end of the stick. The stick will at once be attracted to the card, and will follow it as if it were a magnet. As it moves it will soon lose its •quilibrium and fail from the chair.

PORTAL CARD MAGNET.

Os course you understand the principle of the experiment. By rubbing the card you waken electricity In it, and it thus becomes a sort of magnet, with the power to attract light bodies. Do not try the experiment in damp weather. —Chicago Record. BIRD SHAVES ITSELF. The Boarded Vulture I* an Adopt at the Harper** Art. The 1 aminergeyer, or bear led vulture, found throughout the whole mountain chains of the old world, actually shaves himself. The expert barber Who has for his customers the Fifth avenue, millionaires could not ply the keen-edged razor to the stubby beard of bis particular patron uore deftly jhan the monarch of the m >untain tops prunes his own bristly beard. The head of the vulture 5s clothed with feathers, end from the sides of the under mandible proceeds a row of black bristles. From this peculiar projection of feathers the bird derives itt name. A layer of similar bridles begin* at the eye ami cover* the nosUii*, forming xt fleecy mustache. With Ids strong and sharp claws, which act as the razor, he begins to trim his fibrous whiskers with--great care and dexterity. He docs this with great regularity, and soon the downy beard and mustnebe give way to a toll growth of bristly feather*. Georgia's crack Shot. Mr. Hmyser, of Hummervillc, Ga., although nearly f J7 years okl, is still a crack shot. At a recent practice shoot he put seven bullets out into a target at GO feet. Mr*. A. E. Rinehart, of Dover, X. H„ ha* covered 1,052 mile* on her bicycle in , ten (lay*. y

MAN OF IRON NERVE!. How Ho Snatched a Lighted Candle from a Keg of Fowdor. It happened in London many year* ago. On the third floor of a large warehouse vvaafttoretlacoiutitler&ble quantity of gunpowder. One of the barrel* containing the explosive had been opened for the purpose of examining the contents, and had been left uncovered. In the establishment was employed a young man of n peculiarly headstrong, heedless temperament—just the sort of fellow who nowadays picks up a pistol.: . pulls the trigger and shoots a comrade, und then explains with many tcursthat he “didn’t think it was loaded.” This clerk was sent upstairs one evening on some errand. He carried in his hand u lighted candle, and on entering the store-room, without paying the smullest attention to what he was doing, clapped down his tallow dip right in the midst of the powder In the open barrel. There was no candlestick —he simply jabbed the bottom of the cundle into the loose black duHt in which a single spark would let loose a force that would rend him in fragments and lay waste the entire neighborhood. He had scarcely lifted his hand when be realized the whole situation; but his craven soul was too weak to face it. He fled In abject terror, and related

HE FLED IN ABJECT TISRHOR. what he had done to the horror-stricken group below. It wus a crowded (listriot and the danger was indeed fearful, Muny of those who heard him rushed out into the street shouting the alarm, and a generul panic: ensued. A frightful catastrophe seemed imminent. - There was, of course, one way-one only way—ln which the disaster might be averted. It might he several minute? before any spark fell from the wick; tiiere might still he time to lift the burning candle from Its perilous rest-ing-place. Hut who dure undertake the tusk! Happily for the community, there was one man among those who lieurd the words of the affrighted boy, whose nerve was equal to the emergency. While the others fled for their lives, he groped his way through the dark pass-age-wny and up the narrtvw stairs. In a far corner of the big loft he perceived n faint, glimmer, and made his way toward it through the piled-up bales and boxes. The lad's doty was .only too true. There was the candle, stuck aslant among the deadly black gruins, the wick already burned and drooping downward. There wus not a moment to lose. * And there was not, a moment, lost. Quickly, but with steady touch, the brave -man caught the candle between his clasped hands, sheltering the flame with his pnlrrnu- As he lifted It out of the powder, the wick sputtered and a glowing fragment dropped hbt upon hit outspread flngers-~but that wus all. The town was saved. Has Whiskers at Fourteen. Ed Jenkins is a 14-year-ol(l hoy living in Garrard county, Ky., whose claim to distinction Is bused on the fact that he lias a fully developed black mustache that many a man of 30 would be proud to Ixiust. The boy was hardly ton years old when tthe fur began to sprout on his upper lip. Contrury to the usage of boys he did not encourage its growth by surreptitiously shaving. He never put a razor to Ills face, but tlic hair needed no encouragement, but continued to grow and become darker, . until the mustache was thick and long. The remarkable feature is that the boy is not particularly developed beyond his years in any other way. He is not above the average in height or weight. He still wears knee pants, and it is a queer sight to see the kid fumbling at liis mustache and curling the end*. l.({enU ot Solomon's Ulr(. The Talmud tells some curious old legends about .Solomon. Quo is that ho had a ring on the possession of which depended the keeping of his kingdom. Once Solomon went into the bath und left his preeious ring on a shelf, when, a concubine of his, Amina, stole the. ring and I tie fiend, Sakhar, flattered Amina ami wheedled her out of the ring, and Sakhar took the form of King Solomon and ruled in his stead. Boor Solomon was pot to it to regain hi* |>ower, but he raised such a first-(das* incantation that Sakhar got afraid and threw the ring into the sea and a fish swallowed it, arid fishermen caught the fish and found the ring. It wus restored to Solomon, and witli it he recovered ids kingdom. : .1 ‘ —— Always Mod the Worm. Avery strange animal, related to the. lemurs, and |s:eiiiiur to Madagascar, is the aye-aye. It feed#on wood-boring grubs that tunnel into the bark of trees. The beast cuts away the outer bark with its chisel-like teeth, and ns the worm retreats to the end of its hole pokes after It with' a finger. This linger, is a remarkaßle organ, evidently provided by nature for this purpose, being abnormally long and armed with a hook-shaped daw for dragging out the grub.-. v a \ At the MBltlP\ Miss Gush—Don’t you admrre Gogginaki’s execution, Mr. Rush? | Mr.,Uush —I’should like to hear of it •—Tow n Topics.