Rensselaer Union and Jasper Republican, Volume 8, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 April 1876 — Page 8

v i caiumaa. I ■ k SKI/Z? bother# v TKwriwmKS3 n ' ■KuJnF Ml With cinlrJi MJiMMor*.iu' -•■"“■'• ® •••"* ’Wftolftw.'aft*’*-qg.***.*.-*.., • ••>. * prlto; W <m tb» root wit* hl* toor-l *c “of kite. " jr *! t ** «*»• hold, hor tail, •■ .'■ S 3" * "t® KO«g straight up In the Aa, xieaveu, no rell! Yon may hear my heart a lit i. to' «»sLlhl_ *j 3 e * rr y h,m swiftly away, kicking, aMerylng with heat, ** * ““•’“T. W <Hrl on thia ’ll t my dear little mouse, a 1 "® 1 , a, '“. cu “nl»g. •* tmllke the other, Bnl> con>er > where, “building a I '“brother l he<< * n °* Care whe " 1 "' “ f " r h c * me the sweat rosy lip vnriea down in the way bo heart-breaking to 'dri* * ye * wl<l> teßr * were j**’’ read y t° As he sobbed out, •• My mor-ma did do way fern me! ‘Ah, ffi?,*- 1 -" And 1 catch him np quick to my ‘Heslng eye*.cheeks and lips, with sweet Spreads o’er the small face of iny comforted dove. fejhlaS'?^ !-!K ' 'Vs*•' A * Hang-About! Kissing and Utting in laps, and twining about, asweet Uttle artifice bringing, That M may go, too, if Z must go out. WMch d ® l ’°X? tlie be * t ' Char,ie or James ’ Ofln-Aixmt, Hang-About, scarer and pest; Filled to the brim with their mischief and games. Blessings of torment! billows of rest! Flooding my life with bright sunshine and Joy; Sudden alarms, screams, songs of a lark; Pride and delight in each beautiful boy; Rest, with a restless desire to hark When they’re asleep! Soft! I creep to their beds! Both upside down, yet how beauteous the poee; How round the white ttmbs, how golden the heads. How deep are the dimples on each cheek of rose! Hats of both in the river when traveling we go; From the rail-car darts Charlie, with swift impish feet: “M'mnu. to see why the steam horse did sgueech and tqueam so.” While Hang-About squceches for me in his seat. Oh, I the questions! the terrible Which they spring, like a mine, on my hor-ror-struck ear! »“ Miss Lee paints her cheeks," says one boy to young Failes. “And her hair a-ll tomes off!" chimes the other sweet dear. Miss Lee is my guest, and young Failes is her lover; And while those sweet monsters are shrieklug with glee, They break their engagement!—Oh, yes, ’tis all over! my children, bid good-by to me. Life is hard, life is breathlees, life sweet to the When those bandits hold carnival all their CharieshaT emptied the inkstand on table, on floor. And James cut my silk dress in pieces to-day. Yet give me the mischief, the riot and noise, The awful disclosures of Rattie and Mouse; The brain-reading questions, the crashing of To a house without children, a sad, silent bouse No pattering footsteps, no singing like birds; No aoft, chubby arms round one's neck clinging tight; No up-side-down, crooked, delicious, sweet words, la the queer little prayers which they offer at night. Ah. God keep them safe for me, just as they are ! With the health to do mischief, to shout, run and sing. 1 I'll race after Charlie with thankful despair, Aad help little Jamie to kiss and to cling; For 'tis rapture, though torment; 'tis peace, thougn affright; . 'Tie a bush and an uproar in curious poise; But I fold them about With my love day and night. Thanking God for my children, my glorious boys. fanny Barrow, in Christian Union.

WHAT HAPPENED.

It was on a tranquil summer evening, just like many that had preceded it, that the Widow Anderson sat at her wheel, spinning flax, just as she had sat on many a summer, autumn, winter and spring evening. All waa stiri; flowers and insects seemed dropping asleep; little birds peeped drowsily in their nests, and the whole world seemed as quiet and steadygoing as the old dock in the corner—when something happened. But this is not the good, old-fashioned, regular way of beginning a story. I will start again. In a little post-town, among the Highlands of Scotland, far away from any great city, there lived, a few years ago, a woman much respected and well-beloved, though of lowly birth and humble fortunes - -one Mrs. Jean Anderson. She had been left a widow, with one son, the youngest and Just of several promising children. She was poor, and her industry and economy were taxed to the utmost to keep herself and son, who was a fine, clever lad, and to give him the education he ardently desired. At the early age of sixteen, Malcom Anderson resolved to seek his fortune in the wide world, and became a sailor. He made several voyages to India and China, and always, like the good boy he was, brought home some useful present to his mother, to whom he gave also a large portion of his earnings. But he never liked a seafaring life, though he grew strong and stalwart in it; and when about nineteen he obtained a humble position in a large mercantile house inCalcutta, where, being shrewd, enterprising and honest, like most of his countrymen, he gradually rose to a place of trurft and importance, and finally to a partnership. As his fortunes improved, his mother’s circumstances were made easier. He remitted money enough to secure the old cottage home, repaired and enlarged, with a garden and lawn; and placed at her command, annually, a sum sufficient to meet all her wants, and to nay the wages of a faithful servant, or rataercomnanion; for the brisk, independent old lacy stoutly refused to be served by any one. Entangled in business cares, Mr. Anderson never found time and freedom for the lons t voyage and*« visit home; till at last, failing health, and the necessity of educating his children, compelled him to abruptly wind up his affairs, and return to Scotland. He was then a man somewhat over forty, but looking far older than his years, showing all the usual ill effects or the trying climate oi 1 [ndia. His complexion was a wallow brown; he was gray and somewhat bald, with herb and there a dash of White in his dark auburn beard; he wm thin and a little bent, but his youthfol smile remained foil of quiet drollery, and hi* W not lost itß oltl glerfol sparkle, by poring over ledgers * nt Ht biut marrimi a country-woman, the daughter of a bcotch surgeon; had two . children, a and a daughter He did not write to hi* a<»d mother that he was coming homo, as lit wished to surprise ■HMriier memory of her sailor

’ * town Putting np al the little inn, he proceeded to areas hlmaelf in a suit of sailor cloth*, and then walked out alone. By a by-path he well knew, and then through a shady lane , dear to his young, haae|-nutting days, all strangely unchanged, he approached his mother's cottage. He stopped for a few momenta on the lawn outside, to curb down the heart that was bounding to meet that mother, and to clear bis eyes of a sudden mist of happy tears. Through the open window he caught a glimpse of her sitting alone at her spinning-wheel, as in the old time. But alas, how changed! Bowed was the dear form, once so erect, and silvered the locks once so brown, and dimmed the eyes once so frill of tender brightness, like dew-stained violets. But the vo:ce, with which she was crooning softly to herself, was still sweet, and there was on her cheek the same lovely peachbloom of twenty years ago. At length he knocked, and the dear remembered voice called to him in the sim pie, old-fashioned way: “ Coom ben!” (Come in). The widow rose at sight of a stranger, and courteously offered him a chair. Thanking her in an assumed voice, somewhat gruff, he sank down, as though wearied, saying that he was a wayfarer, strange to the country, and asking the way to the next town. The twilight favored him in his little ruse; he saw that she did not recognize him, even as one she had ever seen. But after giv ing him the information he desired, she asked him if he was a Scotchman by birth. “ Yes, madam,” he replied; “ but I have been away in foreign parts many years. 1 doubt if my own mother would know me now, though she was very fond of me before I went to sea." ‘‘Ah, mon! it’s little ye ken aboot mithers, gin ye think sae. I can tell ye there is no iqortal memory like theirs,” the widow somewhat warmly replied; then added: “And where hae ye been for sae lang a time that ye hae lost a’ the Scotch fra your speech?" t “In India—in Calcutta, madam.” “ Ah, then it’s likely ye ken something o’ my son, Mr. Malcom Anderson.” “Anderson?” repeated the visitor, as though striving to remember. “There be many of that name in Calcutta; but is your son a rich merchant, and a man about my age and size, with something such a figure-head ?” “ My son is a rich merchant,” replied the widow,., proudly, “ but he is younger than you by many a long year, ana, begging your pardon, sir, far bonnier. He is tall and straight, wi’ hands and feet like a lassie’s; he had brown, curling hair, sae thick and glossy! and cheeks like the rose, and a brow like the snaw, and big blue een, wi’ a glint in them like the light of the evening star! Na, na, ye are no like my Malcom, though ye are a guic enough body, I dinna doubt, and a decent woman’s son.”

Here the masquerading merchant, eonsiaerably taken down, made a movement as though to leave, but the hospitable dame stayed him, saying: “Gin ye hae traveled a’ the way fra India, ye maun be tired and hungiy. Bide a bit, and eat and drink wi’ us. Margdry! come down, and let us set on the supper.” The two women soon provided quite a tempting repast, and they all three sat down to it—Mrs. Anderson reverently asking a blessing. But the merchant could not eat. He was only hungry for his mother’s kisses—only thirsty for her joyful recognition; yet he could not bring himself to say to her — ,f I am yourson." He asked himself, half grieved,' half amused—“ Where are the unerring, natural instincts I have read about in poetry and novels?" His hostess seeing he did not eat, kindly asked if he could suggest anything he would be likely to relish. “I thank you, madam,” he answered; “it does seem to me that I should like some oatmeal porridge, such as my mother used to make, if so be you have any.” “Porridge?” repeated the widow. “Ah, ye mean parritch. Yes, we hae a little left frae our dinner. Gie it to him, Margery. But, mon, it is canid.” “Never mind; I know I shall like it.” he rejoined, taking the bowl, and beginning to stir the porridge with his spoon. As he did so, Mrs. Anderson gave a slight start, and bent eagerly toward him. Then she sank back in her chair with a sigh, saying in answer to his questioning look “Ye minded me o’ my Malcom, then —just in that way he used to stir his parritch—gieing it a whirl and a flirt. Ah! gin’ ye were niy Malcom, my poor laddie!” “ Weel then, gin I were your Malcom,” said the merchant, speaking for the first time in the Scottish dialect, and in his own voice; “ or gin you braw young Malcom were as brown, and bald, and gray, and bent and old, as I am, could you welcome him to your arms, and love him as in the dear auld lang syne? Could you, mitlier?”

All through this touching little speech the widow’s eyes had been glistening, and her breath coming fast; but at that word ” thither,” she sprang up with a glad cry, and tottering to her son, fell almost fainting on his breast. He kissed her again and again—kissed her brow, and her lips, and her hands, while the big tears slid down bis bronzed cheeks; while she clung about his neck and called him by all the dear old pet names, and tried to see in him all the dear old young looks. By and by they came back—<}r the ghosts of them came back. The form in her embrace grew cornel ier ; love and joy gave to it a second youth, stately and gracious; the first she then and there buried deep in her heart—a sweet, beautiful, peculiar memory. It was a moment of solemn renunciation, in which she gave up the fond maternal illusion she had cherished so long. Then looking up steadily into the face of the middle aged man, who had taken its place, she asked, “ Where hae ye left the wife and bairns?” , “At the inn, mother. Have you room for us all at the cottage ?” “ Indeed I have—twa good spare rooms wi’ large closets, weel stocked wi’ linin’, Thaebeen spinning or weaving a’ these lang years for ye baith, and the weans.” “Well, mother dear, now you must' rest,” rejoined the merchant tenderly. “ Na, na, I dinna cate to rest till ye lay me down to tak’ my lang rest. There’ll be time enough between that day and the resurrection to fauld my hands in idleness. New ’twquld be unco irksome. But go, my son, and bring me the wife—l hope I shall like her; and the bairns—l hope they will like me.” I have only to say, that both the good woman’s hopes were realized. A very happy family knelt down in prayer that night, and many nights after, in the widow’s cottage, whose climbing roses and woodbine were but outward signs and types of the sweetness and blessedness of the love and peace within.— Grace wood, in Chrittian Standard.

Wallace & Sons, of Ansonia, Conn., occasionally astonish the people by producing a magnet capable of lifting a locomotive from the track. The last one made has a lifting capacity of 30,000 poupds. .One is now in process of construction which will surpass all preceding ones. Humor has it that it is intended for the Centennial Exhibition.— American Manufacturer. » Cuanbkhry Roll.—Stew v quart of cranberries in sufficient water to keep them from burning. Make.it very sweet, strain and cool. Makena paste, and when the cranberry is cold, spread it on the paste about an inch , thick, roll it, tie it close tn a flannel cloth, boil two hours, and serve with a sweet sauce.

A Rothschild Wedding.

I finished my last letter while the marriage of Mlle. Bettina de Rothschild was going on in the Israelltlsh Temple, Rue de la Victoire, and went out in time ti ice the grand procession drive away, but only from a distance. It required a larger dose of curiosity than I possessed to make me push through the crowd that thronged the streets on all sides, blocking up the sidewalks as on the day of Dejaxet’a funeral. Although the ceremonies began in the afternoon, “the people”—the democracy that is so down on property and society—came as early as eight o’clock in order to get a good standing place near the Temple, and there they remained until the last gala carriage had left the street. As a general thing Royal Princesses atone are able to attract so general attention on the occasioh of their marriages, but Mlle. Bettina may be called a Princess, being the daughter of tlie king of finance. No people in the world show such striking contrasts as those of Paris. In the midst of their republican orgies a few years ago, when all were engaged in scratching off the Imperial eagles and in writing the word equality upon all the walls, they stopped to acclaim the “ king of kings,” the Shah-in-Bhah, the most despotic monarch of the East, and anything like a royal pageant captivates them at once. But there Is a reason for the popularity of the Rothschilds with the crowd. In the first place they give large sums to the poor and support a number of charities. Secondly, it is known that the Baron is a very hard-working man. His wealth imposes a great deal of labor upon him. He rises at seven o’clock in the morning and goes directly to his bureau, working there steadily throughout the day, having his mid-day lunch brought to him. When in need of air and exeicise he runs down to Ferrieresfora little shooting. Meanwhile Mme? de Rothschild is making the rounds of her hospitals, carrying relief and comfort to hundreds of those who suffer. These people have enormous fortunes, but they make good use of them, and live really noble lives. Envy is, therefore, out of the question. Few men would like to change his hours of labor with those of Baron Alphonse. And little Mlle. Bettina, now another Barronne de Rothschild, has made good use of her fortune and time also. From the time she was a little girl she has had her separate establishment in the Hotel Talleyrand, Rue Saint Florentin, her own agent, doctor, business man, governess, teachers, servants and stables, and had her own table, to which she invited her own relatives when she wished. She pursued her studies actively, and two years ago went before the Board of City Examiners and obtained a certificate entitling her to the position of teacher in the public schools, or to exercise the profession of governess. In case of loss of fortune, therefore a remark which sounds absurd in her case—she is capable of earning her own living. She carries a dot of twelve millions to her husband, not counting her jewels. Relatively speaking this is not much, but since it is all in the family, the sum of the dowry makes no difference. If the young Baron Albert were in want of four or five hundred millions, his father-in-law would furnish them with pleasure. On the morning of her marriage Mlle. Bettina w’anted to pay a parting visit to her own asylum, to see her proteges, and was greatly annoyed to be told that on this day she belonged to her family. The gala carriages and the blue and gold Rothschild livery made a very grand show. The harness was ordered for the occasion, and as some of the horses appeared too small for the harness, Baron Alphonse sent over to England for several pairs of magnificent animals. The service in the temple, attended by the Marshal and Mme. MacMahon, the Orleans Princes, and all the high aristocracy of the city, is represented as very impressive. It was conducted by Laddoc Khan, Grand Raboi of Paris, assisted by Mgr. Isadore, Grand Rabbi of France. Faure and Levi sang magnificently in Hebrew. The bride came in a carriage with her mother and father, entering upon the Baron’s arm, and went aw T ay in the carriage with her husband. That night the young couple started for Italy on their wedding tour. The appearance of the procession in the streets reminded me of the marriage of the Princess Gisella, at Vienna, but of the two, the marriage of Mlle. Bettina de Rothschild was the more distingue and elegant. I need scarcely say that the Baron and Baroness adore their daughter, and that neither can yet find consolation for her necessary loss. Mme. De Rothschild regrets more than all else the necessity of having the distance between her and her little Bettina that which separates Vienna and Paris.— Paris Cor. N. Y. Times.

How Splurjit Took Advantage of Being Wound Up.

Fifteen of us met at the creditors’ meeting to decide upon winding young Splurjit up. He was a jolly, genial fellow, meant well, but had sold too many goods below cost and to poor customers. His list of debtors disclosed a number that we all knew bad been tabooed from the books of every prudent house in pur line, and with Splurjit’s long experience in the employ of one of the best houses in the trade, we were surprised at this ;eVi- ; drns&ht “young,” and was “struggling along,” and the philanthropic spirits in our meeting thought best to give him another chance.” B wanted to take back all Splurjit had of his goods unsold at what he, B, had charged him for them. ■ C, D and E objected that B’s goods had advanced in price, and all the creditors ought to have the advantage of that rise, and on this emphatic statement twelve of the number at once decided to accept from Splurjit ten cents on the dollar. This settled that proceeding. Four days afterward, B, who has a large order in hand, receives word to box and ship what is finished and under way,, but get but nothing further. Investigation discloses that Splurjit has been to B’s customer and underbid him, using the goods 119 paid ten cents for, which B wanted to take back at invoice value as the basis of his estimate. Splurjit is a “ jolly fellow,” you see, and B—well, he “ ain’t up to the times,” or else he’d be starting afresh with aten-cent stock himself. Do you think there is any moral in this true story? Do you think the sequel would induce those twelve to recant ’— Bouton Bulletin.

The Terrible Destruction of the Danube Floods.

Fifteen thousand people, who have lost shelter and home, are being fed at public expense, 7,000 at Buda-Pesth alone. Many of them were owners of houses which have been leveled to the ground, or are now tottering to their fall. Hundreds w-ho have been living in easy circumstances are now reduced to extreme helplessness. The same tale is being repeated along the immense stretch of water throughout Hungary. Only last week, wnen the water at Buda-Pesth had become calmer, the town of Mohars, down the river, was half destroyed. The name is marked in the history of Hungary as that of misfortune. There, in the year 1562, the Magyars suffered a crushing"defeat at the hands of the Turks, who consequently ruled over Hungary for nearly 150 years after. The walls, which stood the storms of 600 years, have been swep* away by this flood in one short hour. ; The whole extent of land under water at the present time is about 600 square

miles, including 1,800,000 acres of tilled or arable land, which means ruined harvest hopes, calculated at 8,000,000 florins. As to the loss and damage accruing to the whole country, sixteen to twenty millions will hardly suffice to repair it. Not a sunbeam has been visible for three weeks. The sky is lowering, and long-lasting rains are pouring down at short intervals, as if there were not enough of this liquid element already. In some townships, situate near the banks, the order to illuminate the houses at night is still obeyed, in order that all may be ready for any new emergency, and ttfs feared that the dykes arc loosened by a three weeks’ incessant motion of the waves rippling to tlie top.— Vienna Letter toN. Y. Herald.

Rifle Manufacture.

Master Akmobeh Allin has been preparing an exhibit of the armory work for the Centennial, which contains in a little space a very complete showing of all the operations that each of the component parts of tlie Springfield rifle goes through in the process of manufacture. The pieces are fastened on boards, the arranging of which involves an immense deal of care and labor. Thus the barrel goes through no less than forty-seven operations, and a specimen barrel after each is presented with a label giving the name of the operation, the machine by which it is done, and the number that can be done in an hour. First the original barrel mold is rolled eight times, the capacity of each roiling machine being eighteen an hour, straightened with a hand-hammer at the rate of thirty-one an hour, bored al the rate of fourteen an hour the first time, and again at the rate of three an hour, and so on to the end, the sights being added at the twenty-third operation, the rifling being done at the thirty-first, until the rough-looking cylinder with which the process began comes out the nicely-fin-ished rifle-barrel. Similarly the bayonet requires forty-five operations, besides twenty-three on its fastening, and other parts in proportion, and just the effect of each operation and the gradual process of each piece is set forth in a very interesting and instructive manner. The barrel takes up two of these boards, which are about a yard square; the stock, which goes through ten operations, takes another, the bayonet another. The parts which are peculiar to the breech-loading system take two boards, one being occupied by the forty-six processes of the receiver, while the other pieces of the system, including the breech-block, thumb-piece, hinge-pin, extractor, cam-latch, and smaller pb ces require no less than 140 specimens. The board to show the mountings of the rifle, such as the bands, butt-plate, trigger, guard, tip, swivel and ramrod stop, contains 175 pieces, the largest number of any board. Ramrods and bayonet scabbards are by themselves, the ramrod going through twenty-seven operations, and the scabbard and spring fifteen. The components of the lock on another board, require 135 pieces, and the rear sight requires seventy-three operations, which are shown by themselves. Besides these ten, showing the components of the rifle, another contains those parts of a rifle carbine that are different in size, and two mora are jtCLShow the sworda .and bards used "by cadets and~ Thfantry and" cavalry officers, making about 850 pieces in all. The boar dp are all symmetrically arranged, and reflect great credit on the taste and diligence of the master armorer. This display, which is so instructive in itself, will be doubly so in Philadelphia, where the frames will be hung close by the armory machinery, and each will be of great use in explaining the other.— Springfield (Mass.) Republican.

An Easy Charity.

“We always like to see Mrs. Edwards come in,” said a clerk in a dry goods store. “ Even if she does not buy anything, she has such a cheerful way of speaking to us all, that it does us good for all day.” How few ladies realize the worth of a few kind words to those who are weary and busy with a ceaseless round of daily duties. Nothing obtrusiveor very marked is necessary or suitable. But a true woman can show a friendly interest, even in tone. A cheerful, pleasant manner is a charm better than beauty, and can make amends for a very plain face. A haughty, authoritative air provokes resentment in the hearts of all who come in collision with it. Clerks may, from policy, be very attentive and obsequious, but there is no cheerfulness in the service rendered, and the sarcastic remark and sharp jest is sure to be passed around among them at her expense when once she is fairly beyond hearing. There is no one so high in station that she can afford needlessly to make enemies. A noble, sensible woman can do good as she goes along through the world, just by using kind tones and cheerful words in conversing with those who fall in her way in the course of business, it does a young man good when away from his home and .friends, to feel that a good woman feels an interest in him. It makes him better, as well as happier, and throws a thread of good influence around him to keep him in the time of temptation. Mothers have a duty to other mothers’ sons besides their own. If suitable and convenient, let them feel they are welcome to your parlors and your home. Many a lad has been saved from ruin by th» friendship of. soma kind., family, where he was made welcome and at home. It is a charity that requires little outlay and which carries with it an abundant reward. The after results, too, are often unexpected and cheering.— Church Union.

A Gilded Statue of Prince Albert.

It is a curious coincidence, says a London letter, that at the same time that the question of calling the Queen Empress is under discussion there should have been unfolded in Kensington Gardens a huge golden idol, sitting like a Hindoo god in a golden temple. This is another fancy of the Queen —a statue of Prince Albert, gilt all over, as the center-piece of the glittering—at any rate it once glittered—memorial to the “ Great and Good.” It ,is impossible for almost any language to convey an adequate idea of the unpleasant and grotesque effect of this preposterous figure. When the sun shines on it, as it did to-day. no one can look at it without blinking. You see only a confused flash pfjglowjng yellow light, and can distinguish neither the features nor even the 'Attitude of the figure distinctly. The statue is in a sitting posture, one leg stuck out before the other. and, as it is perched very high, this produces rather an awkward effect from below. When the figure was seen in its original bronze this was not so perceptible, as there was a certain amount of rich shadow to disguise and modify it; but, now that it stands forth in a shimmer of gold, it certainly presents the appearance of some unnatural monster akin to the divinities whicn are worshiped in Eastern pagodas. Indeed, it might easily be. mistaken for the golden calf, and bids fair to be the laughing stock of the town. Another serious disadvantage of the gilding is that, for the present, it makes the other decorations, which have now got rather shabby and arnished through exposure to the weather,' look still more shabby. In striking contrast to the gi'mcrack temple and the gilded statue are the white marble sculptures which stand around and which are really noble works of art. It is a mercy that they have escaped being painted or gill, though perhaps that may yet be their fate.iti order to keep up the harmony of colon,

INDUSTRIAL, STATISTICAL AND TECHNICAL.

In the Russian Medical College are 122 girls of titled birth. Missouri has paid this year $3,822 as bounty for wolf scalps. ./ Under the balmy influences of a new directory, San Francisco has increased her population t0J270.000. If you would be known and not know, vegetate in a village; if you would know and not be known, live in a city. Concord meeting-house in Chester, Pa., was erected in the year 1785, a still older one, which was" erected in 1693, having been demolished about that period. The bricks of the present building are said to have been brought from the mother country. “If 80,000 articles are on exhibition at the Centennial, and the visitor devotes five hours of each day to the Exhibition, giving one-half minute to the examination of each article, it will take him five months to go through," says the Philadelphia Star. Vienna uses 720,00$ pounds of genuine meerschaum, worth oversl,ooo,ooo, yearly, and 4,100,000 pounds of meerschaum chips, which are ground and compressed and made into imitation pipes and cigar holders. The imitation is carried to such perfection that the best judges are often puzzled to distinguish it from the real article. The removal of sand, etc.,' adhering from the molds to iron castings, generally accomplished by filing, is said to be effected far better by means of steel brushes. They are made of thin strips of steel, in the form of ordinary scrubbers, and also in that of whitewash brushes, and are reported to remain sharp for a long time, and to be far more convenient in use than the file.— Exchange. To give black walnut a fine polish so as tp resemble rich old wood, apply a coat of shellac varnish, and then rub it with a piece of smooth pumicestone until dry. Another coat may be given and the rabbin sr repeated. After this acoat of polish, made of linseed oil, beeswax and turpentine, may be well rubbed in with a dauber made of a piece of sponge tightly wrapped in a piece of fine flannel several times folded and moistened with the polish.— Scientific American. The Court Journal, of London, savs that an American professor has devised" a very formidable apparatus. It consists of a small drum, with a very delicately sensitive elastic skin stretched over it. A stream of gas passed through this drum will burn as usual till some one begins to sing near it, when the flame, under the influence of the vibrating skin, commences to shake in a manner which is varied indefinitely, according to the notes of the tune, so that, under certain conditions, it will be possible to photograph these movements of the flame, and this, of course, will be equivalent to photographing the tune.

The Trained Spider.

The most celebrated insect trainer in France was a certain Monsieur Van Preulx. While others devoted their energies to the task of subduing the savage instincts of lions and tigers, or to that of charming poisonous serpents, this gentleman bestowed his efforts on a spider—one of that black, hairy kind, the mere sight of which causes a cold shiver to run down one’s back; 1 In order to relieve the ugliness of the creature, or perhaps to heighten it by the force of contrast, M. Van Preulx kept his captive in a large watch-case of gold, with a covering or top of crystal. This spider was trained to indicate the hour of the day, to point out the greatest coquette in the room,.and to distinguish certain musical notes. By exhibiting the wonderful insect, M. Van Preulx amassed a considerable sum of money; but he died just at the time when he proposed to retire and enjoy it. His heirs met to divide the fortune, and not knowing what else to do with the spider, they agreed th<s it should be set at liberty. They opened the case, but it did not stir. They pushed it with a stick, but it would not move. It was evidently dead. It had died at the same time as its master. The doctor deemed this a most extraordinary case of sympathy. Who ever before heard of a spider dying in consequence of the decease of a man? They determined to write an account (a memoir, as the French call it) and present it to th,e Academy of France. There was, however, one of the heirs who was not content that the insect should be thus disposed of. It had brought much money to M. Van Preulx; why might it not bring some to him t . He took it out of its case and examined the mysterious creature, and to his amazement discovered that it. had never been alive. It was made of India rubber. M. Van Preulx had deceived the people, who, as the proverb says, like to lie deceived. He had caused the spider to go through certain motions by mechanism, and nobody cared to look very closely at so disgusting a creature. — Youth's Companion.

A Hindu Devil-Dance.

Night, starry and beautiful, -with a broad, low moon seen through palms. A still, solemn night; with few sounds to mar the silence, save the deep, muffled Worn ®£ breakers bursting on the .coast full eight miles distant. A lonely hut, a huge, solitary banyan tree, grim and gloomy. All round spread interminable sands, the only vegetation on which is composed of lofty palmyras, and a few stunted thorn-trees and wild figs. In the midst.of this wilderness rises, specter-like, that aged, enormous tree, the banyan, haunted by a most ruthless she-devil. Cholera is abroad in the land, and the natives know that it is «he who has sent them the dreaded pestilence. The whole neighborhood wakes to the determination that the malignant power must be immediately propitiated in the most solemn jMld effectual mamxet. Tlve. night arrives; out of village, ana hamlet, and hut pours the wild crowd of men, and women, and children. In vaih the Brahmins tinkle their bells at the neighboring temple; the people know what they want, and the deity which they must reverence is supreme just now. On flows the crowd to that gloomy island in the star-lit waste —that weird, hoary banyan. The circle is formed; the fire is lit; the offerings are got ready—goats, and fowls, and rice, and pulse, and sugar, and ghee, and honey, and white chaplets of oleander-blnssoms, - and jasmine-buds. The tomtoms are beaten more loudly and rapidly, the hum of rustic converse is stilled, and a deep hush of awe-struck expectancy holds the motley assemblage. Now the low, rickety door of the hut is quickly dashed open. The devil-dancer staggers out. Between the hut and the ebon shadow of the sacred banyan lies a strip of moonlit sand; and as he passes this, devotees can clearly see their priest. He is a tall, haggard, pensive man, with deep-sunken eyes and matted hair. His forehead is smeared with ashes, and there are streaks of vermilion and saffron over his face. He wears a high, conical cap, white, with a red tassel. A long white robe shrouds him from neck to ankle. On it are worked, in red silk, representations of the goddess of small pox, murder and, cholera. Round his ankles arfe massive silver bangles. In his right hand he holds a staff of spear, that jingles harshly every time the ground is struck by it. The same hand also holds a bow, which, when the strings are pulled or struca, emits a dull, booming sound. In his left hand the

devil-priest carries bis sacrificial knife, shaped like a sickle, with quaint devices engraved on its blade. The dancer. With uncertain, staggering motion, reels slowly into the center of the crowd and then seats himself. The assembled people show him the offerings they intend to present, but he appears wholly unconscious. He croons an Indian lay in a low, dreamy voice, with drooped eyelids and head sunken on his breast. He sways slowly to and fro, from side to side. Look! You can see his fingers twitch nervouriv.j His head begins to wag in a strange, uneasy fashion. His sides heave and quiver, and huge drops of perspiration exude from his skin. The tom-toms are beaten faster, the pipes and reeds wail out more loudly. There is a sudden yell, a stinging, stunning cry, an ear-piercing shriek, a hideous, abominable gobblegobble of hellish laughter, and the devildancer has sprang to his feet, with eyes protruding, >ipouth foaming, chest heaving, 'muscled quivering, and outstretched arms swollen and straining as if they were crucified! Now, ever and anon, the quick, sharp words are jerked out of the saliva-choked mouth: “I am God! I am the true God!" Then all around him, since he and no idol is regarded as the present deity, reeks the blood of sacrifice. The devotees crowd round to offer oblations and to solicit answers to their questions. “Shall I die of cholera during this visitation?" asks a gray-headed farmer of the neighborhood. “O . God, bless this child, and heal it,” cries a poor mother from an adjoining hamlet, as she holds forth her diseased babe toward the gyrating priest. Shrieks, vows, imprecations, prayers and exclamations of thankful praise rise up, all blended together in one infernal hubbub. Above all rise the ghastly, guttural laughter of the devildancer, and his stentorian howls—“ I am" God! lam the only true God!” He cuts and hacks and hews himself, and not very unfrequently kills himself, there and then. His answers to the queries put to him are generally incoherent. Sometimes he is sullenly silent, and sometimes, whilst the blood from his selt-inflicted wounds mingles freely with that of his sacrifice, he is most benign, and showers his divine favors of health and prosperity all round him. Hours pass by. The trembling crowd stand rooted to the spot. Suddenly the dancer gives a great bound in the air; whenhe descends iie.ls motionless. The fiendish look has vanished from his eyes. His demoniacal laughter iPstill. He speaks to this and to that neighbor quietly and reasonably. He lays aside his garb, washes his face at the nearest rivulet, and walks soberly home, a modest, well-conducted man.— Contemporary lievieie.

The Centennial Buildings.

The New York lieraid's Philadelphia correspondent gives some interesting figures relating to the Centennial Exhibition and buildings in that city: The main Exhibition building is located immediately east of the intersection of Belmont and Elm avenues. Elm avenue is the southern boundary line of this portion of the Fairmount Park and of the Exhibition grounds, and all the principal approaches from the city are at this point. The main building runs parallel with this avenue, and is the first of the Exhibition buildings, which rises prominently before the sight as you approach the grounds from the east by the horse-car lines. The main building stands 170 feet back from the north side of Elm avenue, the area between the building and the avenue being for special products which may be exhibited in the open air. There is also a space 300 feet wide between the main building and the art gallery on the north side, where the contractor was obliged to build an annex thirty feet wide by 500 feet long as an additional gallery for the main building, owing to the great demand for exhibition space undercover. The building is in the form of a parallelogram, extending east and west 1,880 feet in length, and north and south 464 feet in width. The south front is on Belmont avenue, a wide roadway extending through the central portion of the grounds. The larger portion of the building is one story in height, and shows the main cornice upon the outside at forty-five feet above the ground, the interior height being seventy feet at the lanterns in the roof. At the center of the longer sides, or fronts of the building, are projeciions 416 feet across, and in die center. of the sides are similar prqjections 216 feet across. In these projections, in the center of the four sides, are the main entrances, which are provided with arcades upon the ground floor and central facades, extending to the height of ninety feet. They are ornate and imposing. The east entrance is also the eastern boundary of the grounds. Here will be the carriage concourse and the principal approach to the Exhibition for visitors in carriages. The south entrance, at the Elm avenue side of the structure, will be the principal entrance from the street cars, the ticket offices, as at all the gates, being under covered ways, within the arcade or vestibule. The main portal, on the opposite, or north side communicates with the passage-way to the art gallery and the main portal on the west front, at'Belrnont avenue, fronts machinery hall, the second largest exhibition building. Upon the Ammer iff the main-building arofour. tow-ersseyefity-five feet high, surmounted by a spire at each angle of' the towers, and between the towers and the central projections, or entrances, a lower roof, twentyfour feet to the cornice, breaks the uniformity.

In order to obtain a central feature for the building, as a whole, the roof over the central part for 104 feet square has been raised above the surrounding portion, and four towers, forty-eight feet square, rising to 120 feet in height, with spires thirty feet higher, have been introduced at the corners of the elevated roof. Innumerable flag-staffs, with small flags and pen- , nans , wmsigiMxt. roof of these towers and along the eaves,"aniFfKe effect is gay and brilliant, while the many windows with which the walls of the building are pierced make it appear light and graceful. The foundations' of the buildings are piers of masonry, and the superstructure is composed of wrought-iron columns, which support wrought-iron roof-trusses. Lengthwise of the building the columns are twenty-four feet apart. There are 672 columns in all, the shortest being twenty-three feet and the longest 125 feet in length. The building being a temporary construction, both columns and roottrusses are so designed that they can easily be taken down for re-erection elsewhere. The sides of the building, for the height of seven feet from the ground, are finished with brick-work, with panels between the columns, and above the seven feet with glazed sash. All the corners and anglesof le building, upon the exterior, are concentrated by small galvanized-iron octagonal turrets, which extend above the rfiot and are surmounted by flagstaff's, or, at other places, by the National eagle, made of galvanized iron, gilded. The National standard, with appropriate emblems, is placed over the center of each of the four main entrances. Surmounting each of the side entrances is a trophy showing the National colors and the coat-of-arms of the country occupying that - part cf the building. Variegated bricks and tiling' are introduced in the vestibules Of the four main •entrances, and the ornametrtation over the arches of the entrance-ways is father original. The capitals, the wreaths and the scroll-work over the arches of the portals, are of the leaves of the feta, the

rhododendron, or mountain laurel, the oak, the maple 'and the famfiiar forest trees of America. The walla of the building are painted brown, and the ornamentation is in gold and bright colors. The areas covered by the main burflding are aa follows: Square feet. Acree. Ground floor8T1.W) Upper floors, in projections .... 87,844 .<® Upper floors, In towersßM44 Totalmots 21.47 The general arrangement of the ground floor shows a central avenue, or nave, 120 feet in width, and extending 1,882 feet in length. It is the largest avenue of that width ever introduced into an exhibition building. On either aide of this nave there is an avenue 100 by 1,882 feet long. Between the nave and aide avenues are aisles forty-elght feet wide, and on the other side of the building smaller aisles twentyfour feet in width. In order to break the great length of the roof-lines three cross avenues, or transepts, have been introduced, of the same widths and of the same relative positions to each other as the nave and avenues running lengthwise—namely, a central transept, 120 feet in width by 416 feet in length, with one on either side of 100 feet by 416 feet, and aisles between of forty-eight feet. The intersection of these avenues and transepts in the central portion of the building results in dividing the floor into nine open spaces free from supporting columns, and covering in the aggregate an area ot 416 square feet. Four of these spaces are 100 feet square, four 100 by 120 feet, and the central space, or pavilion, 120 feet square. The intersections of the forty-eight feet aisles produce four interior courts fortyeight feet square, one at each corner of the central space. The main promenades through'the nave and central transept are each eighty feet in width, and those through the center of the side avenues and transepts fifteen feet each. All other walks are ten feet wide and lead, at either end, to exit doors. Louvre ventilators are over the central nave and each of the avenues, and skylights are in the roof of the central aisles, Small balconies or galleries of observation have been provided with four central towers, at different heights, and they will form attractive points of observation. The interior decoration of the building is in excellent taste. The walls and roof are painted a very pale blue, with a variegated border encircling them, the prevailing color of which isua bright carmine. A row- of circular windows extends around below the ventilators and sky lights of each avenue and aisle. These are filled with what appears to be richly stained glass in variegated designs. The effect is very bright and pleasing, but the “ stained glass!’ which, if it w-ere real, would have cost hundreds ofjthousands of dollars, is nothing more nor less than cheap muslin lightly painted and pasted over plain glass.

Standing in the gallery over the north portal of the main building, just in front of the mammoth organ, the visitor can command a view 7 of the whole magnificent display. He will see in separate and distinct groups the goods of every .nation grouped together in the following ingenious manner: On the right, occupying the entire northwestern quarter of the floor, are the Anglo-Saxon peoples—Great Britain first, then Canada (a separate display), then Australia, then other British possessions. Facing the observer, covering the southwest quarter, are grouped the Teutonic and Sclavonic races, in the order of Germany, Austria, Hungary, Russia and Denmark. Turning to the left of the center, covering the* northeastern quarter of the building, will be found the Latin races, beginning with France and her colonies, then tfollowing with Switzerland, Belgium, Brazil, the Netherlands and Mexico. The whole of the southeastern or lower left-hand quarter is taken up by the United States. This classification of nations seems to meet general approval, and this settlement of a much-vexed question appears to be considered a very happy one. Of course the plan cannot be followed out strictly, as it was necessary to economize space by putting some nation in a place where it did not exactly belong, as in separating Italy from the other Latin races and assigning it to ( a space beside Norway; but this was the system adopted in general. In the United States section there are 3,000 American exhibitors, and every foot of. space has been applied for two and a half times over. Requests for space come in every day, although the time fixed for closing has long since expired. The allotments of space In the main building have all been made, but occasionally somebody does not come to time, and the space is forfeited to some other applicant whose request has been on file for want of room. All exhibitors are obliged to submit drawings of their cases to the bureau of installation, showing the arrangement ot their goods, and these plans nave to be approved before they are accepted.

Easter Sunday.

The distinction between the day Christ died and that on which he rose 1 again was the cause of a great deal of the controversy among the early churchmen, arising out of a difference of opinion on which day Easter should be celebrated; and for more than fifteen centuries these controversies had disturbed the Christian world. About 158 O. D. , Polycarp, a disciple of St. John the Evangelist and Bishop of Smyrna, went to Rome to consult Pope Anieetus concerning it, and in the council then held the present manner of celebrating the day was affirmed. Twenty-four years later a priest named Biastus, made himself obnoxious in Rome by endeavoring to have the Jewish rule of celebrating Easter or Pasch on the fourteenth day of the March moon established as the day, and the discussion became so heated that the Bishop of Ephesus appealed to Pope Victor to have it settled once and for all. Councils were assembled m Rome, Gaul, Pontus, Achaia and other places, and the result was a decision fixing the feast of Easter on [the Sunday immediately, follow in gtiiefourteenth day of the March moon. Polycarp refused to obey this as setting aside the traditions. At the Council of Nice it was finally resolved that it should be the first Sunday after the full moon which happens upon or next to March 21, and if the full moon happen on a Sunday, Eastei Day is the next Sunday after. Great care had been taken to prevent the day from falling on the Jewish Passover, and yet that circumstance has happened twice since the calendar was adopted. The festival of the Teutonic Goddess of Spring, Eostre, synonymous with the Greek Eos, and the Latin Aurora, occurred about the same time; and it may be that a desire, often shown, to assimilate Christian to Pagan customs as a matter of church polity, rather than meet too strenuous opposition, suggested its adoption by the Roman ecclesiastics in preference to the time of the Hebraic ceremony of killing the paschal \avah.—Brooklyn Union. 1 . _ _ Some interesting experiments were recently made at the Wyandotte rollingmills. Railroad rails were so successfully welded of Bessemer steel rails, head and iron base, that the most trying tests failed to show even a line of juncture between the two metals. Each was submitted to sixty blows by a twenty-ton hammer. The Bessemer rail was completely shattered; the welded rail was flattened down and twisted in the neck, but showed no signs of fracture. < Texas wheathas brought a higher.price in Liverpool this season than that raised, in any other part of the world.