Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 December 1883 — Page 2

THE SONG OF THE HEN. A minstrel am "T of a sinalelav, Hut.l slntr the whole day long; In the’crowded coopor the breezy way I wafble my pimple pong.' Only an egg. with ita clear white shell, The sea hath no pearl more lair— And over that spheroid I cackle and yell, , , And hallo and wrestle and rear. Oh, a frail weak thing is my ovate gem. As It lies in mv straw-lined nest: Bntit raketh the orator,’ stern and stem, When it catcheth Kim on the crest. There is might in its weakness, and when it goes Down the afternoon of life. It can lead a strong man by the noise, When it mixeth Itself in the strife. lam no singger; the hawk that swoops Must hunt for me under the thatch; And yet in the field or the noisy cooops, 1 always come us to the scratch. So 1 sing the only lay that I k iow, In numbers becomingly m -ok; Because, though "my snn never sets*£l know That my life will be ended necks weak. SONNETS. LOVE STRONG AS DEATH. A mother watched with many a silent vow. Where, restless, lay ner child, with burning brow, Fevered, yet weak, too ill to recognize It’s mother’s anxious care and yearning eyes. One hour’s neglect, and Death’s cold, stiff embrace , Had touched with icy chill the little face; But one omission of each needful care. And the dread angel had aliebted there. While days and nights dragged on their weary round; Then on the infant fell a restful sleep. And happy tears the mother's heart conld weep: The struggle o’er, in peace the babe drew breath. And life returned—for Love was strong as Death. DOVE STRONGER THAN DEATH. The wailing ln F ant grew to man’s estate; • But. here again Death’s angel lay in wait. And when life's rainbow shone most bright and dear. Its colors faded as the foe drew near. No meek unconscious child might now await, What worldlings idly call the stroke of Fate; They judged it best the l>al>e had lost the -iff, Than lived to fade, when clinging'most , ire, Unknowing how the young, but Christian i'll Can faoe tn hope and trust Heaven’s djusnt goal. - Such faith had he—though mother s love‘.-as vain. She would not now recall her boy again; Still to her mourning heart his memory satth, “The Love and Life bevond shall conquer Death.” — Chambers' Journal

AN OLD-TIME LOVE STORY.

The fine old mansion of the Alberghi family near Gluckstadt was brilliantly lighted, and the sound of music and dancing was borne on the evening air across the rolling, sparkling waters of the Elbe. That night a grand baU was give® by Count Frederick Alberghi, the only remaining representative of the noble family whose name lie bore. The building was massive stone, high and dark, protected by moat, drawbridge and battlemehted towers. It was a fine old feudal castle, built in the time of Frederick 11. Outside it looked grand and gloomy; inside it was ablaze with lights and redolent with the perfume of choice flowers which were scattered in profusion, not only about the large reception saloon, but in all the smaller apartments which were thrown open to the -guests.

• In a little room, far removed from the rest, in the eastern tower, stood two persons —a young man, remarkably handsome, though there was an expression of deep care upon liis face, and a lady. The lady was not remarkably handsome just now, and she listened to her companion with drooping eyes; indeed, _mast people would call her simply pretty, until her expressive, blue eyes and the brilliant sylph-like smile broke over her face. The two were standing talking carelessly together, the lady leaning against the heavily-carved oaken window frame, and the young man standing nearly opposite her, caressing, a bright-eyed falcon perched upon his wrist. “So, Count Alberghi. you will be remembered for a long while as the young noble who gave the most splendid ball as yet ever attended,” The lips of the young man curled, and he answered contemptuously : “That is surely a uame worth gaining at any price.” “Of course,” said the lady- “But why soseornful about it?” “You know, Lady Lena, that I care only for your approbation ; then the ball is given only in your honor and to please you, whose slightest wish I would gratify at any expense.” “Alas, Count Alberghi, I am told that a dozen times a day!” “Probably; but the words do not come from the heart as mine do.” “Pooh!” said the lady. “They all swear that!” —“-Very well, Lena; I may some time be able to prove the truth of my words. I have been a fool. For three years I have hung upon your accent, fulfilled your every wish, as far as lay in my power. My fortune—which was ample—l laid at your feat that you might have every possible want sup-' plied i and in return for this devotion I have received nothing but coldness and scorn! You know that I love you as few men love —with my whole heart and soul—yet you scorn me. Yon are | rich and noble. I still 1 love you as ! madly as ever, but to-night is the last j time I bow before you. This once I plead, Lady Lena, to be shown some ! kindness. For the last time I oiler you myself. Will you accept me?” Lady Lena turned very pale as she j listened to the rapid, passionate words ! uttered by the passionate young man who knelt before her. Her eyes grew dark with some inward feeling, but her words destroyed the faint hope which had risen in his heart at the gentle expression en her face. “Oh, rise, Count Frederick, for I know this is all nonsense—instantly. To-morrow yon will be beside me as usual, and the next, and every day, just as you have been for years.” The young man rose, and in answer to her taunt, only bent hik head and tenderly stroked the glossy head and neck of the bright eyed bird ou his wrist, that looked from one to the other, as if inquiring what was goiug on. Piqued at his silence, the young lady exclaimed ; “Where now is your boasted love? I say a bitter thing to you and yet you do uot retaliate.” "w '' ' . ”1 cannot forget myself so far as to retaliate to a woman.” “No,” she said, “but 'you can sneer. Yousneer and stroke your falcon, who I know possesses more of your boasted love now than I do." “Jeanette never wounds me,” he re- j plied. “In return for my caresses she dbes not give nmbitter oddness." ■ • .. ' - ? ' \

“Perhaps she would if she • could speak,” persisted the lady. “Actions, Lady Lena, speak louder than words,” said lie. The girls eyes flashed, and she turned to the door, but paused as she reached it, and, looking over lifer shoulder,said contemptuously: 'll “I suppose the cause of your lovo for that bird is because she once belonged to some former lady love.” The tone was very insulting, and this time the young man raised his flashing eyes, and his words were rapid and indignant : “You are right,” he replied. “This falcon belonged to a noble lady, whose kind, womanly heart scorned to inflict a wound upon tho meanest creature; who never trampled under foot honorable love offered her, as if it was a disgraceful tiling, one that I loved devotedly, and who, had she been nnable to retnrn the affection offered her, would yet bavo rejected it with considerate gentleness.” “Why, then, don’t you return to this paragon of tenderness and virtue?” sneered the lady. “She would willingly soothe my wounded spirit,” he replied, “but she is dead.” Without another word Lena sped from the room, brain on fire, her eyes filled with tears. Could Frederick have seen her as she, leaning far out'of a window, wept bitterly, he would have forgiven her the bitter words. As it was, they parted in anger. Left alone, Frederick paced up and down the room. In his despair he murmured aloud, I have been a driveling fool—a madman! For three years I have devoted my time, heart and fortune to the service of this heartless woman. One day rewarded with smiles the next with frowns. To-mor-row when the bills are paid for debts incurred for this night, I shall be absolutely penniless—all my fortune spent upon this vain flirt, who is undeserving the name of woman. Yes, to-morrow my furniture, horses and plate will be sold, my servants discharged, and all that will remain to me is this old castle and mv faithful nurse, Margaret, who will not leave me, and my falcon. This building now ringing with the sounds of music, dancing and merry laughter, will be closed, to become the sanctuary of rats and owls. For myself, I shall withdraw from society and in this small, gloomy tower, support my poverty and despair as best I may. I have been worse than foolish—l have been •wicked. But this repining will not do. I must rejoin my guests. So saying, Frederick replaced the falcon on his perch near the window, and forming a gav smile and careless air, sauntered into the ball-room, and from that time till tho company left he was seemingly the gayest of the eay- ♦ * . .... * * &.> - “Quick, Susan! fasten this boddice and bring me my hood and mantle and tho thick shoes!” exclaimed Lady Lena; then added impatiently: “You’ll have to pin this handkerchief and apronstring, for my hands tremble so I cannot do anything.” The maid obeyed, and soon the ..young mistress stood before the elegant mirror laughing to herself'in complete peasants attire. “Will anybody know me, Susan?” she asked laughingly, as she drew the hood over her face.

“No, indeed, Lady Lena,” replied the maid, “if I hadn't seen you dress I should not know you myself,” “Then I am off.” And suiting the action to the word, the graceful Lady Lena, ran out of the room and down stairs in a very undignified way. ' In the garden she was met by a lover of Susan’s who exclaimed: “ ’Peai>s to me we are in a monstrous hurry, Mistress Susan. Can’t you stop to give a fellow a noontide kiss?” “Away with you!” she exclaimed. “You shall have two kisses when I come back, if yOil won’t stop me now.” “Good bargain, Susan,” said he. “I have not much to do, and will wait by the gate till you come back.” Away sped Lena. After a pretty long, rapid walk, she reached Castle Alberghi, and entering by a low postern door which she found open, made her way to the door of the tower, where she saw old Margaret seated. “Good-, noon. Dame Margaret,” said Lena, The old woman raised her head and, recognizing Susan, Lena’s waiting maid, she returned a very sulky greeting. T “Don’t bo erossr Margaret,” she coatinued, “I’ve got a beautiful note for your young master from my lady.” “You needn’t come here with it then,” said Dame Margaret. “Your lady’s notes have brought sorrow enough to this house.” “But, Margaret, I was sent to deliver if and receive an answer and I dare not go back without it; it would cost me my place, and you wouldn’t be so cruel | as* that to a poor girl who has never I done you any liaris.” Here Lena began j_ to sob, and Margaret rose, saying: ! “You have never done me any harm, ! so give me the note and let me take it i upstairs quickly.” ' The note was proi duced, and Margaret took it upstairs; ! muttering as sho did so: “Much good, i much good it will do my young master.' It isn’t sealed very closely, and if I conld read it I would open it, and then if there was anything to wrong him, I’d .sooner put my hand into the fire than give it to him.” By this ( time she had reached the second story and knocked at the door. - —— ■■ - “Come in,” said Frederick, who was seated by the window reading. He looked up as the woman entered, and asked what she wanted. “A note for you,” she replied. The young man’s face grew a shade paler, and his hand slightly trembled as he look the delicately performed note. • A moment he paused, overcome by his feelings, thou impatiently tore it open and read the following words: “Lady Lena Erfurt, being about to visit England for several years, desires to have the pleasure of meeting once snore her old friend, Count Frederick Alberghti, who has so mysteriously withdrawn from society. She •’Will do herself the honor of dining with him this day at 5 o’clock.” A spasm passed, over the young man’s face, and he murmured, “Once more.” Then tnrning to Margaret; lie said: “What is there in the house to eat ?” sfi' - .

“As good as pothing, sir,” replied the faithful woman, “for there is only the scraps left from your breakfast.” “That’s" bad, Margaret,” he “for I have uo money; not a single kreutzer; and here is a note fsom Lady Lena informing me that she will dine with me to-day.” “She can’t come, dear sir! There is nothing to give her.” Frederick seetaied lost in thought—suddenly he raised his head. “I have it now,” said he. “You must serve up poor Jeannette here. It is all that I can do.” “ Oh! master. What, roast the poor bird you have loved so long, and whioh belonged to- ” „ “Hush, Margaret, not another word; only do as I bid yon. Serve the bird Up as best yon can. Have the table laid for two; have it ready by fire. When the lady arrives summon me, and serve dinner immediately. I shall be in my chamber, Co which I shall now retire.” Margaret dare not remonstrate, but,i sobbing and wringing her hands, she went down stairs. Lena had waited her coming with anxiety, and when Margaret entered in, such distress of mind, she sprang np. “ What is the matter, Margaret? Has anything happened to your master ?” “Deed there has!” woefully answered Margaret. ~~ 7“ “What?” said Lena. “Speak, woman!” “ Oh, only he’s gone clean demented. You bring a note from your haughty mistress, who ought to be drowned in the Elbe, for she always makes trouble for my dear young master, one of whose fingers is worth more than all her body; made him waste all his fortune, so that now he is as poor as Job, and makes him kill his Jjeantifnl falcon." A triumphant smile now flashed into the eyes of the false waiting woman, and she asked: “How so?” “Why, yon see, Mistress Susan, your lady is coming to dine with him, and there is nothing in the house, neither victuals, nor even a kreutzer, so he has ordered the falcon to be roasted for your wicked lady’s dinner." “I have no doubt it will make capital eating," langhed the girl. “Out upon you!” said Margaret. “You are a 3 heartless as your mistress. Go back to her and tell her that she is welcome. I hope the bird may stick in her throat and choke her, unfeeling woman that she is.” “Oh, don’t take on so, Margaret. I am sorry that your master is so poor, but.he will offer my lady a dish valuable for its rarity, for I warrant me she has never tasted roast falcon before.” Margaret’s only answer was to throw herself into her chair and sob. The disguised Lena approached her. “Don’t feel bad, but tell me why should Count Frederick care so much for the poor bird ?” “Don’t you know that? Why, it belonged to his blessed mother, who is now an angel in heaven.” Tears filled Lena’s eyes, and she said; “Well, I didn’t know that, and it’s a real shame to roast the bird, and if you will keep it a secret I’ll help you. Give pie the bird and I’ll take it home and I’ll take it home and send you another in return. Your master will be none the wiser.” Margaret’s face lighted up, and earnestly thanking the girl, she left the room and soon returned with the falcon, closely hooded, which she gave to the false Susan, who went off with it. * * * * * * * Punctual to the minute came Lena, and never had she looked more lovely or been dressed with so much elegance or taste. Margaret, w ith a snlleD air, ushered her into thejdining room, where Frederick came forward to meet her. He was struck with her fresh, winning appearance—a bitter change to be ■wrought in so few weeks. His greeting was frigidly polite, and her’s particularly genial and kind. The dinner was soon spread, and Lena shuddered as she glanced around the long, dark, unfurnished room, seen last brilliantly lighted and decorated and filled w ith sprightly guests, and before whom groaned a table covered with every luxury the season afforded and mono} - could buy. What a contrast! Now all the gorgeous hanging, furniture, pictures, silver, glass and lights were gone, and in their place Stood in the empty room a small deal table bearing two covers with one dish of meat. With all his old gTace of manner, Frederick led Lena to the table and took his place eppositeto her,,The meal was a silent one, for Frederick was abstracted, and Lena so nearly overcome by everything around her that she could hardly repress her tears. As she rose from ths table the oount said: “I am sorry, madame, to offer you so poor a repast, but—” “Don’t speak of if, Count,” hastily terrupted Lena, affecting a gaiety she was far from feeling. “It was charming—so new; and I never tasted a more delicious chicken.” “I am happy to find that I have pleased you,” said Frederick; “but allpw me, in all deference to your taste, to correct one mistake —the bird yon have partaken of was not chicken, but my falcon.” “Your pet falcon!” said Lena in affected astonishment. “The same, madame,” he replied. ‘‘Frederick,” she exclaimed, and the torie in which his name was uttered caused Frederick to start. He was dumb with surprise when he saw the haughty Lena burst into tears, but before he could recover his self-possession Lena stood before him erect and pale. “Frederick, to-day we part forever,” said she, “and before we do so I must obtain your forgiveness. You have always treated me with respect and love, and I—l have repaid your devotion with coldness and scorn. Will you forgive me?”. “Most certainly,” coldly answered Frederick, making great effprt to subdue the passion her unwonted gentleness had roused. “I loved you, and. probably by unceasing devotion, wearied von. l " needed a lesson, and have learned it. I could not expect one who did not love me—” ' “Stop there and listen to me,” said Len*, “and if my confession, made in this lionr, seems umnaidenly, let my excuse be that is the only reparation in my power. lam wealthy—the wealthiest woman in all Germany, it is said.

From my childhood I have feared to lie loved for my wealth, and, with my earnest nature, I know that a marriage without love would be death. People whom 1 counted my Warm, sincere friends, told me that my riches were all yon cared for—that you lavished your comparatively little wealth upon me only the more surely to gain possession of my princely fortune. I did not believe them, but I wished to try you. In my cautiousness I went too far, too far, for I lost what I vklued .more than life—your love.” "Xena, Lena, be careful 1” said the young man. “I am past care for anything now,” she replied. “To-morrow I leave for Englani, never tp retnrn. I conld not go without asking yon to forgive me; without telling you as the only balm I can offer, that if I made you suffer, I suffered also, and perhaps more acutely, for I was called heartless, cold, unprincipled by the only being I pver loved in the world, that I ——” *She could say no more for sho was clasped in eager arps and covered with passionate kisses. A few minutes she lay there, then freed herself, all blushing and tearful from her lover’s embrace. A moment she left the rooin, then returned bearing a basket, which she gave to Federiek. On opening it his falcon flew out. Resting her beautiful head on Federick’s shoulder, she said: “Take me, dear Frederick. I yield myself to yon, overcome by your love ; and selfish devotion, actually brought t* hand by your falcon.”

The Signal Serviee for Farmers.

The project of making the United States weather signal service of more direct use to our farmers has been much agitated. There is not. one inducement for sustaining tho signal service for its protection to shipping that cannot be urged by farmers in asking that it be extended so as to give them ample notice of approaching storms. In point of importance, agriculture has no superior among industries; and there is no industry more completely dependent upon the weather for success than that of the cultivation of the soil. The scheme is an entirely practicable one. A system of signals by flags to be used on trains has already been devised. The farmer who wishes to plan his farm operations according to the probable state of the weather for the next day, could get within sight of some train that carried weather signals—signs of danger or of safety to the crops—-as it goes dashing along. Dr. R. 0. Kedzie and others think that these signals ought to be under the management of a State weather service bureau similar to those now flourishing in lowa and Ohio. This State bureau could take the weather predictions of the National signal service in connection with independent observations, and telegraph the probable state .of the weather for the next thirty-six hours to all parts of the State, employing such means to spread the news in the rural districts as study and experience may suggest. There can be no doubt that such a weather service in Michigan would be of immense value. In July, - 18S1, the farmers lost more than $1,000,000 because their wheat was not secured before the well-remembered storm of that year. That famous storm, which lasted nine days, was partially expected by meteorological observers three daj T s before it struck Michigan, but no warning could be sent brpadcost over the State to the:: easy and confident farmers because there were no systematic means. c There is a vast amount of prejudice against any kind of weather service, simply because there is a vast amount of ignorance in regard to what has been accomplished in the science of meteorology. Tho atmosphere above and around ns, it is now believed, is governed by fixed laws, and all these laws must be discovered before storm predictions can approach perfection. Much is already done in this direction, and it is hoped that the people will furnish means for its further progress.—r Lansing Republican.

A Prayer Which Will Bear Repetition.

Characteristic prayer offered by Elder Littlejohn in 1850: “Oh, Lord, there is great wickedness and much drnnkenness in our young and rising towns. Therefore, O Lord, we crave Thy blessing. Now, Milwaukee, just sprung up, is bad; Chicago, another mushroom, is worse. Yet do Thou, Lord, bless and improve them. Then there is Michigan City, a land of sand and whisky, aud La Porte, of mud and wickedness; and, indeed,they need Thy blessing. And there is South Bend, and also- Niles, which think themselve&r righteous, but are full of rumholes and rottenness. Lord,they need Thv blessing. And here is Mishawaka, which boasts itself something, but has nothing but self-rigliteo*sness. Good Lord open its eyes, that it may receive thy blessing. Then we have Elkhart, and Bristol, and Mottville —little things, but wicked. Do, Lord, bless them.” Then, pausing for breath and raising his voice to its highest pitch: “And lastly then, dear, good Lord, even bless Constantine, where Governor Barry sells whisky at three cents a glass! Amen.”— Detroit Post.

Cheap Suits.

A number of years ago a fellow who had driven some stock to Cincinnati formed a soheme to get a new suit of clothes from one of the energetic dealers who so urgently solicit the man from the country to buy. Ho went into the store, after stationing several of his rascally companions where they could look in. and ordered the finest sirit in the entire stock. Just as he had got fairly into them, the gang outside, in accordance with their instrue-. tions, rushed into the store* brandishing pistols and “Shoot the son of a s^a-cook! Kill the blank scoundrel! Kill him! Kill him!" The man in the new clothes, affecting great terror, broke for the door, the gang following in hot pursuit, and in a very Bhort time the entire gang was safe on the Kentucky side. The clothing dealer is still waiting for the seacock's sou to return and pay for the clothes. : • V • ' ." t -■ s. ’• . . - V - ; a " < * *•« *:

That Awful Mulkittle Boy.

Young Mulkittle {went to school for the first time the other day. He had been carried through a “course of sprouts” at home to prepare him for» the heavier duties of school life, and his examination had been so satisfactory that Mrs. Mulkittle congratulated herself on her skill as a teacher. It was decided that he should attend a private school, taught by a pious maiden lady with angular shape and a blue wart on. the. side of her nose. “Now, Miss Ray,” said Mrs. Mulkittle, when she presented the boy to the teaoher, “I want yon to make him mind you. I don’t think that you will find him self-willed. He is/easily governed by kind treatment, and I think that he will become very much attached to you, and I feel that you will learn to love him." “Oh, lam quite sura,” replied Miss Ray, who had been ranch more sucessful in her lore affairs with ohildren than with men. “All of my scholars lore me. Don’t throw paper wads, Tommy Peters. They all soon learn that though I am gentle I will be obeyed. Johnny Ames, don’t rake the wall with that nail." <••• “ Well, I will leave him with you, Miss Ray. Willie, be a good fetur.” “Yessum.” “Don’t let me hear any bad reports of you.” “Nome.” “Come here, my littie man, and let me see how far you are advanced," said Miss Ray, when Mrs. Mulkittle had gone. “I’m way past Baker, a*’ Shady, an* Lady,” said the boy, when Miss Ray opened a spelling book. “I can read and write easy werds,” and looking np he caught sight of the blue wart, Now. any other kind of a wart might have been overlooked or excused without investigation, but a blue wart was something new to the boy and could not be dismissed. “ What’s that on your nose ?" “You can read some, can yon?” asked Miss Ray, pretending not to have heard the boy’s question. “Yes, some. What’s that on your nose?” A titter went around the room, and Miss Ray turning to Mulkittle said rather sharply: “It’s a wart. Now pay attention to, me.” “It’s a mighty funny wart. What kind of a wart is it ?” “I don’t know. Now pay attention to me.” - “You know it’s blue, don’t von?” “Yes.” - . “Thought you didn’t know.” “Hush now, and lot me see how far yon have gone.” “Does it hurt?” “No.” “Why don’t you pick it ?” “Hush, now. Children, keep quiet. You are enough to drivs a body wild.” “Don’t you wish it wasn’t there T “No. Now look here.” “I’m lookin’ there. Why don’t you pull that hair out of it. No, it ain’t a hair. I thought it was.” The lady became embarrassed and then angry under the boy’s scrutiny. “If you don’t stop asking so many foolish questions, I’ll send you home.” “But I want to know what I want to know just as much as I want to know what you want me to know.” “Well, now, what do you want to know ? I’ll satisfy you if it is in my power.” “How long has the wart been there ?” “Ever since I can replied Miss Ray, settling herself back witlTcalm consideration^ “Has it been blue all the time ?” “Yes.” “Will it always be blue?” “I think so.” “Did you ever try to take it off?” “No.” “Why haven’t you?” “Because I haven’t.” “Why because vou haven’t.” “I don’t know.” “Why?” “You are enough to run a person crazy.” “It keeps you from getting married, don’t it? ’Cause nobody would want You „lftaye here, this minute, von good-for-nothing little rascal. Go on, and don’t you come back here again,”— ArTc. Traveler. As.

A Smile in the House of Lords.

The following eun'ous scene is described by the present Lord Albemarle, who was witness to it. A debate on the clergy reserves in the Canada bill in April, 1853, was- the occasion. The late Lord Derby made remarks, from which Bishop Wilberforce expressed his dissent by shaking his head and Binding. The noble Earl took exception at the gesture. The Bishop admitted the smile, hut denied all intention of thereby imputing anything offensive. Lord Derby—l” accept the explanation offered by the right reverend prelate ; but when lie says that it is impossible for him to say anything offensive, because be has a smiling face, he will forgive me if I quote, without intending in the least to apply the words to him: “A man may smile and smile, and be a villain." Lord Clarendon (in a voice of thunder)—Oh! Oh! Oh! - Lord Derby—What noble peer is it whose nerves are so delicate as to be wounded by a hackneyed quotation ? Lorc^Clarendon —I am that peer, and protest against any noble lord applying, even in the language of poetry, the epithet of villain to any member in the House. Peacemakers arose on both sides of the House. The reporters had left the gallery previous to a division. Lord Clarendon, who was greatly excited, drank Off a glass of water. Lord Derby at the same time filled another bumper of water and called out across the table: “Your good health, Clarendon,” and so the affair ended.— London Society. Martin Luther, compared original sin to the heard of a man. “We are shaved to-day and look clean and have a smoother chin; to-morrow our beard has grown again, nor does it cease grwsing while wo remain on earth.”

PITH AND POINT.

[From the Fort Wayue Hjosierj Side issces—cash from jour vest pocket. Isn’t it strange that wherever a woman goes her corset stays ? Two tramps in a bushel basket rep- 1 rent two-four time in music. Two beats to the measure, you know. When Greek meets Greek there may be a tumble in Greece, but the oleomargerine market will remain unchanged. An exchange says “it’s comforting to know that a bee can only sting once.” But tlte deuce of it is, there are so many bees. “Whew!” exclaimed a visitor entering the editor’s sanctum, “this room is as hot as an oven.” , “It is one," was the reply, “for here I make my bread.” _ Mb. Tackenphast sometimes has a very supercilious way. The other day he entered a grooery on Berry street and asked: “How are these apples; are they fit for a hog to eat?" “Don’t know, I’m sure; try ’em and see..” said the grocery man. This is terrible! New York society, in wondering why,Miss Carrie Astor should marry George Gould, seems tp lose sight of the faot that it is probably because Gould Astor. (Readers ■yho cannot see that Astor mean* “asked her” may us cigars.) [From Carl Pretzel's Weekly^ A foot rule — Keep yon toe-nails trimmed. - A dwelling house in this oity was recently gutted. Tho liver wont out and took the lights with them. When the average condemned murderer goes to heaven, we suppose it is not improper to say that he is roped in. “Live and let live” is the motto of the robber who is always willing to let you live in some other world if he is let live in this. A woman just before marriage is a blushing bride. One year after marriage the blush appears on the end of the husband’s nose. “My father has something on his house that you father ainfc got,” said a little boy to his companion. "What is it ?” he earnestly asked. “A mortgage.” . Many delight in reading Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, but he never made half the time that a certain Little Rock pilgrim made from a neighbor’s henhouse, propelled by a bull dog*s locomotion. “Who’s that man and woman across the street ?” asked Jones of his friend Smith. “Man! Woman! Heavens, Jones, don’t parade your ignorance! In this age of progression we have no man or woman 1 That is our nurse ladv and onr errand gentleman.”— Vila Ophir. A gentleman of this city recently lost his wife. Soon after he was taken very ill and he narrowly escaped the grave. Upon his recovery he was married, and on being Congratulated by his friends for having recovered his health replied that “a widower naturally rewives.” • *

Cerebral Gluttony.

Lord, Strathnairn once said that he could tell by a young man’s manner of ordering his breakfast in a coffee-room' whether lie was likely to nmke a good officer; and Lord Palmerston declared that the best way of getting a supply of efficient attaches ior the foreign office would be to leave the selection t<> ladies. Without indulging such fancies, one ma ask that competitive examination should be directed to ascertaining whether a candidate lias a general fitness for the position which he seeks, and not to the finding out how much ill-digested knowledge he can cram into his head. The brain is an organ more delicate than the stomach, and yet the same men who preach temperance and abstemiousness to boys for their healths’ sake will unhesitatingly urge them to the wildest course of cerebral gluttony, Cases have been cited in which pupil teachers, after working all day at schools, have had to pass their evenings in tending for examina- j tions, and many of them doubtless take no Sunday rest. These unnatural calls upon the brain lead to Exam. Fever- 5 that is, a form of brain-fever with a complication of neurosis—a most difficult complaint to treat, and one whieb may become chronic if the patient can not get perfect rest. —London Graphic

Flesh-Fating Horses and Sheep.

In all the colder regions of Europe, says a French writer, cows and horses near the sea-coast occasionally vary their diet by eating fish. Some horses which about a century ago were taken from Iceland to Dunkerque were fed during the voyage as well as during their stay at Dunkerque, on nothing but salt fish. Xt Saint Waast-ia-Hougue fish is given to domestic animals, which eat it with great relish. According to M. Valenciennes, a certain kind of fish which is found in great abundance on some parts of the Indian coast serves, both fresh and salted, as food for the horses. Kamtchafha dogs, of course, are notorious fish eaters, but not even the authority of Philostrates can induce us to believe in his fish-eating sheep, although Ellen backs him up in guaranteeing that their flesh acqtiired the fishy taste of marine birds. In Lydia aad Macedonia sheep were said to be fattened with fish, greatly to the detriment of their mutton, bid: it must be admitted that the whole story has a Tery ancient and fish-like sinell. One of the most striking features of modem French life is the rapid increase of insanity, the number of cases of which, and especially those induced by alcoholism, is becoming larger each year. During 1882 there were 13,434 admissions into the asylunSs, of which 10,184 were new cases, the total number sunder treatment in being 58,760, in which about 27,000 were men and 31,000 women, showing that females are the most liable to the disease. *" The American women are acknowledged the world over to have small; well-shaped feet. The Russians have enormous feet. The rmglish have flat feet, while the Parisian women ate noted for tinyones, with slim ankles and arched insteps. i ■ . .... ; ' * »