Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 43, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 July 1886 — Page 2

A RWOU.BCTIOR • • T '- ■ BT H. «. NKWHtu. Hl* whs ft life We'l-tpnii.ied *'’<l complete. In which the Jays encn Other did repeat la kindly net* and pen tie woids to those Whose cup full oft with bittemesft o'erflowft. The lowly, honielc«* t end forsaken poor Could over find en entrance at his door; - A willing eer to list their tale* of wo, if , A tenemuft heert to sheer *bcw> with it* plow. sis waited not the beggar at bin pate, Hat nought him in the eornera where he sat*. In doing good ho found supreme delight, - * And few th * occasion a that mtcapod his tight. Not many knew him in the walks of life Where pride and pomp and arrogance are rife; Be did his deeds not to fee seen of men. But by the Eye of more than mottal ken. *0(1 when he died no lofty head was bowed— His mourner* wore the base, uncleanly crowd; For well he learned the worda, -I say to ye, In feeding thorn ye alto hare sod me.” Though little known by whom the world calls great, He well could bear the oft-occurring fats; To such it may tie said, “1 know ye not*— For him there it reserved a fairer lot. •Twere hotter to fee known in heaven above, And taste the iwcetucaa of immortal love. Than to he blasoncd in the courts of earth, Where man are measured fey the scale of birth. They are not great who throng in vaulted halls, Whoaa voice* ring in ec.booH frotn the wallB; Though ne'er so well they s !*<•«.k for church or state,— Rl* hot this which makes men truly great But doing daily by r-ur fellow-men At w« would have them do by us again, la nearer to the greatness of the One Who bled forgave, and said 'Thy will be done. - —The Current. ; "• • ’ 7 THE TOrNC. WIFE’S DEVICE. , My mother is a charming dear, ; But George holds her in mortal fear, So when to solitude I’m prone— Whene'er I wish to be alone, I tell him mother's coming. It is an Innocent device. And then, in truth, it's very nioe To know I can on any day, Should I to wish, keep him away. 1 tell him mother’s coming. Perchance I give a little tea— For gossip.tii, 'tween you and me. At such a time, of course, you know. He'd be but in the way, and so I tell him mother's coming. Should I desire some pleasant day To go to anv matinee And not be home in time to get 5 A supper for my darlinp pet. I tell him mother's coming. Whatever I may wish to do; To spend the day with gossips few; Amuse myself as I may please, ,j_. I fir it all with perfect case. I tell him mother's coming —Tie Rambler.

A BIRO OF PASSAGE.

The good ship Tidal Wave was almost home. The voyage had bee* long and tempestuous, and captain and crew had thought more than once that the end of it all had come—the end of the journey so hopefully commenced, the end of the gallant ship that had been their home, and the end of the wild life they had loved, all finished together. But the sunshine had driven the black storm from the sky, the tempest s rage had spent itself in unavailing fury, and now the-great green waves turned their faces up to the warm, and blue, and cloudless sky, aud smiled and dimpled under the strong hand of the fresh breeze. The good ship Tidal Wave was almost home. The sun was bright, the air was pure, and fresh, and dear. The waves rolled lazily along the sides of the vessel. Great flocks of birds—birds whose homes were on shore among the rocks, but who- dearlyloved the sea —came close about the vessel. Their discordant cries made music in the ears of the sailors, for they told them of homeAfter a time one of the birds, a large one, pure white, settled oh the rigging, aud stood looking down upon the deck and the busv men who were gathered there. “Did you ever see a bird like that?” asked the mate of Captain Harmon. “I never did,” answered the captain, who had a genuine love and a generous knowledge regarding natural history. “It is new to me. Jgero, Jack," he added, turning to a sailor who stood near,'“go below and bring me my rifle. Let us have a nearer view of this strange bird.” Jack brought the weapon.- Captain Harmon took it into his hands in that indescri-

bable wav which betokens love for the weapon, tod a complete understanding and mastery of its use. All eyes were turned towards the strange bird. There was a pause fox a moment as the captain slowly raised the rifle towards his shoulder. “Captain Harmon, I should never have believed that of you. Let.the bird go.” All turned to see the source of the clear and musical voice. The bird, forgotten, was left to rest upon the mast or join his ocean-fellows at his own pleasure. The speaker was a young woman, dressed in some soft fleyec white raiment, slight and supple, quick aud graceful, a wealth of soft brown hair falling all about her

shoulders, and a pair of earnest and bright brown eyes looking oat from under a high forehead, and gravely regarding the astonished captain. Coining upon them so unexpectedly, standing almost upon tiptoe, with her whole frame bent earnestly forward, she might almost hare seenied like some great brown-eypd, white-coated bird herself, who Bad suddenly .settled down among them. Bertrand Harmon prided himself on his quick and ready politeness. I believe that he regretted, to the end of his life, the fact that his cap remained on bis'head a second Or two longer”than it should have done. Surprise was to blame for that. But he had it in his hand, and stood with bared head gravely bowing to the lady just a little later, only a little, than would have been true courtesy, had he met one he knew, in the street of his native town. His-crew, admirers and imitators of all he did, removed their hats and caps, and tried to look as grave and dignified as he did. “The bird mar go free. I am always glad to grant a lady’s wishes I" said he. “Thank you. 1 hat is like the Bertrand Harmon of whom I have been told.” Then, coming a step nearer, and laying her hand upon his own, she said, with great eamestnees, “Promise me that you will never kill a bird who comes to your ship. ” “l promise,” he said. After a pause, “Why are you here? Where did you come from?” he asked, with curiosity. “Why pry into the past? lam here. Is not that enough#” Her answer seemed to mock his question, but her manner was grave enough, and perhaps a little troubled. “Have yon been concealed in the hold all this long and stormy voyage?” ——J 4»he turned and walked slowly away from him for a dozen yards at so, and then returned as slowly. Settling her hands more lightly over her dress, which was smooth, and white, and stainless, she answered his qnestioii by asking another, “Does this look like it?” . “Indeed it does not. But you must pardon me. You must be hungry; you must be half famished.” For'answer, she turned her face towards him.” Her cheeks were round and full, and rosy with health and strength. She threw back her head, and a rich, musical laugh rang out on the air, sweet and shrill as a bird-song. “I am not hungry, Captain Bertrand

Harmon," the said, "and I don't know that I shall need to trespass more noon yoar hospitality thnn to bpg (he privilege of a chair in which I may rest here <>n the sunny deck until you anchor in the harbor. It is not much 1 ask. is it?" The color deepeoeji in Bertrand Harmon’s bronZcif fiicc-at 1 the implied rebuke. “You are welcome, snd more than welcome, to anything I con offer,” he hastened to say; "and I beg your pardon if my questions have seemed unkind or impertinent. Still—still-" i “Bayit." shfi Baid withagmilc; “say. it, Captain Harmon.” "I was tnereiygoing to sfty that when a captain finds a woman perfect in her wardrobe, her manners, her conversation, on she deck of his ship, after weeks of tempest and storm—when he finds her looking as ’fresh ns though she never knew anything so rough as even the best accommodations 1 cotdn have given her on the Tidal Wave —whep he finds her strong and ruddy ns though she had never wanted food, and as bright-eyed as though she had lost no sleep —any curiosity which any son of Eve—" She tapped hor foot impatiently on the deck. ffTf ———-

. “W ns her curiosity an advantage to Eve, or was it not?” she added. Harmon shrugged Iris shoulders. - ------ “He jt so,” he said. Then added, “Am I to leave a name hv which to call you?" “Would ‘lhe friend of the birds’—/’ she commenced, saying what little she did with a very evident effort, but stopping at something she saw in the captain's face. “Alv nnme is Beatrice Oiseau,” she said. —He cared away at the distant headlands, and at the forests and hills and iields beyond. The day seemed suddenly to have lost its brightness for him. The land seemed so far away and unreal, though the ocean seemed to have narrowed until his life was bound and hampered by itß limits. His good ship—his and his father's before him—looked poor nnd mean, all at onfte, to the man who looked from it to the brown eyes opposite his nnd then away to the everlasting hills. Something new was stirring in _ his heart. Something new had come into his life. He looked away and w aited. He w aited for her to say more. But she had evidently said ajl she meant he should hear. The crew had taken the new-comer into their affection at once, it seemed, for they were talking of her while Harmon looked away to the west nnd waited. “She is our luck, and has been all this time,” said one. “Yes,” said another; “and I would go anywhere in the ship if she.were with us.” “So would I,” saida third; “but I wouldn’t venture again with' her gone.” “And her death would mean wreck and ruin.” "■ • a— . .* . • • • * «

“I love you, Beatrice Oiseau,” Captain Harmon said to her one night in the sweet summer weather, as they wandered together along tjie bench, in his native village, where she had been staying with his friends. “I love yon, Beatrice; will you make my life glad and happy by being my wife?” “Do vou care for me, just as I uin?" “I do. love, I do!” “Without knowing or caring how or when I came upon your ship?” “Without knowing, certainly!” “Nor caring?” 'lf you wish it so, yes; without caring.” “Without knowing or caring who l am?”. “Yes.” “Nor what I am?” “Yes.” “Your love is faithful?” “Y’es; faithful as life itself!” “And everlasting?” “Until death—and beyond it!” She laid her hand earnestly upon his arm. He could see-the'eager hope in her face as the moonlight shone down upon it. She asked him her one last question. “You will always keep in remembrance any wish I have ever expressed, and keep it in its very spirit?”. “I will! You know I will!” She let her head fall upon his shoulder. He could see the happy tears in her eyes. He had his answer without need of words, but. she gave him words, too. “I have been -so miserable. Now lam so happy. I will be your wife, and my whole life shall be devoted to your happiness and your good! I have loved you longer than you will ever guess or ever know. “

The next voyage of the Tidal Wave took the youuc bride upon her wedding tour. The one following she remained at home. The time seemed long. The ports visited were numerous. The kinjls of trade lead i barter in which the Captain was engaged were many. But all was prosperous; all was successful; skies were fair; breezes weTe favorable. -It-aeemedTB —though" 1 everything in sea and air were working together for the good of Captain Bertrand Harmon. When the ship came home at last, after being gone more than half a year, there was

a new joy in store for the broad-shouldered apd black-bearded Captain. There was a tiny baby girl in the little home, lying upon the pillow beside the happy face of Beatrice Harmon-a little life which came to bless her and her lover husband just as his ship came sailing up the bay. Baby Elsie was the pride of her father’s heart. Each time he went to-sea it became harder to leave Beatrice and her. Every time be came home he brought wonderful gifts to them both. v Elsie could have told strange stories about her mother had she known enough of’ the world to know that anything her own dear mother did was strange, or could be. She could have, told her how she would stand at the east window. for hours,. when the wind blew tod the ocean roared, and

sing songs which the baby brain could not understand, in & clear and bird-like voice, She could have told of the fear that she had seen written on her mother’s face many times when there was a stolffi abroad, and of the tears 6he had seen so often. But when papa came there were no fear, nor sorrow, nor tears. So she never spoke. And Beatrice never asked her husband to give up the sea, although she would nestle close to him when he sometimes spoke of a future in which he should be at home with her and little Elsie. Good fortune had followed the Tidal Wave for so long that her crew came back one by one, until, when Captain llarmon announced one day to his wife that the voyage on which he was to start that day would be his last one, he added th&t with the exception of those who were dead and gone it would be his old crew who would Sail with him. „ ‘ How it stormed! Hardly was the ship out of the bay before the wind and rain were beating in fierce fury .around the home of -Beatrice and Elsie. -W-.- - Time brought little change. One day would be a day of tempest. The next would be a day of dull rain from a leaden sky. Then would come the tempest again. . After a time there were days when the sky was clear, but the wind moaned in a sad undertone through them all, like a mad -creature not yet satisfied with the evil it had wrought. “t* Elsie lay in her little bed in frightened silence more than once, and watched her mother pace baefe and forth the whole long i length of their great room. Poor little - baby Elsie wiil always remember the white face,: the bitter tears, and the tightlyclasped hands which the poor mother showed to her young and wandering eyes njght after night, while the careworn mother

f believed the childish eyes were locked in slumber. jj ' .'] The terror Reached its climax one wild Decemberni£ht. There was note cloud in all the sky. The, moon rose calm and peaceful oVer. this distant sea. But the wind seemed to hurry on its way as it never hat! Indore. Elsie could not remember, to ; have ever beard so terrible a storm. Ttfe | mother’s -hand trembted' lMrshe undressed the baby girl, nnd her lip quivered as she kissed her good night. But she Was too good and bruve to wfish tb make a mere child share in her hitter sorrow and dreads and She kept hack her emotions for the dreary night itself. Elsie, after a few hours fitful slumber, woke and rooked around her./ The moonlight poured into the room in a broad, golden flood, looking so still and peaceful compared with the hurrying roar of the angry night outside. At the window stood her mother, looking like a cold white statue in the moonlight. Her, hands hung weak and helpless at her sides, instead of her fingers, writhing iu the frantic twistings which Elsie had so often watched. There were no tears on her face. It seemed to Elsie that they had frozen at their very'source. There were no words of wild song on her lips. She seemed to have lost all thought and all] memory. All powers but two seemed gone. Else trembled at the look in those great eyes. In heaven’s name, what could she j see? She trembled at the tell-tale poise of. j that head. No one had ever listened more ! intently than she was doing. What was ( it, beyond the horizon’s edge, beyond the j power of storm to keep from .her, that j she could hear? For God’s sake, what ; was it? Hhe leaned forward. The great broad' window was open. All at once a smile came into her face. She began to sing: “I love you sol I love you sol . Across the.night I coma ; - j But faithful be, j hv love, to me, And I will guide you homo! Your wave-venal ed dock Shall know no wreck, j Though wild the winds, may blow, - h If you are true As I to you. Because I love " It was a simple and homely song enough, j but poor baby Elsie will cry ovey it always, for it stands in her memory side by side w;jth the strangest and most terrible events she had ever known. At the end of the j second line there was a quick, rustling beat, like the flap of great wings. The moonlight fell in an unbroken flood through the window upon the floor. The clear nud birdlike voice she loved so well rose and fell on the wintry air. shrill and easily heard despite the storm. But her mother was gone. There was no doubt of that. Her place at the window was empty. Still the slow sojig sobbed on. Still the baby eyes watched the vacant place in the moonlight where her mother had stood. Still she waited—waited for the end. “If you are true As I to you, Because I love ” Then there was a sudden report; and her mother stood in her place at the window again. Stood there, clutching at the curtains and at the empty air. Stood there for half a minute, to go down in a shapeless heap upon the floor at the end of it. Wounded! Dead! Dead when Elsie's voice had brought help! Dead when they reaehed her! iahot through the breast with a rifle ball. Who killed her? Thtmjertectives have found no clue. God onlyknows. We may guess what we will. So you know the story thafpoor Htua Daßy Elsie has for her papa when he comes home. She watches for him every day. They think it is better so, although I think they would never make her believe them if they told her he would never comer But he never will. For another thing they do not dare tell her yet is, that the maimns§t, with its rigging, and with a great white bird tangled among the ropes, a great dead bird, which is unlike any bird the natural historians tell about, a bird with a rifle ball through its breast, is ail that ’was left of the Tidal Wave, It is all that has been found. It is enough! .

A Boston Female Book Agent

Two Buffalo Times men were recently besieged by a Boston book agent, who took possession of the only remaining chair in the sanctum and began to pour ia her broadside. _. .* “My name,” said she, “is Miss Alice McAllister, and I come from Boston, the seat of culture and the home of all good women.” “What made you leave it, Alice?” said the reporter, seeing that the combined indifference of the two newspaper men had brought the wemail of culture to a sudden halt. “I’m a traveling advocate of women’s rights and a wandering book-worm. ” The reporter was about to ask her if the walking was good, but by this time she had shaken 'off what little embarrassment she might have felt at first,

and would not give the reporter a chance to utter a word. “I have been to all the Eastern cities, and am only stopping in Buffalo for three months to take a few orders on thiswork of ‘Eminent Women. 5 lam no every-day book-agent, as you will perceive. I carry my sample-book in my muff, in which I had a pocket made for the purpose. I do no advertising through the papers, I advertise in persqn. I despise very young men and very old men. Neither can appreciate my work. I find out the names of every man in the office and what position they hold before I enter it, so that I can call every person by name. I pay no attention to the signs over the doors which forbid agents to enter. They never know I’m an agent until I’m fairly settled, and then the whole office usually makes up one or more subscriptions for my book, so as to get rid of me. lam never in a hurry. If people do not subscribe, or remain immovable after I have used Up all my exertions, then I faint and work on their sympathy. I got into a railroad office once, and they gave me a pass to ♦Chicago if I would leave the town. I jOnce recited the first verse of a poem of my own production in a newspaper office, and the editor offered to subscribe for my book if I would omit the remaining stanzas. When I called around to collect my money they told me that he was dead, and that there was no money left after paying his funeral expenses.” All this, and even the threats of the lady that she would recite this entire poem and scan every meter, failed to have any effect on the newspaper men, who could witness anything •npto a death scene or listen to a funeral oration without flinching, and she departed in disgust, saying that she would nevei 1 call again, that the newspaper men had no money anyhow, and that, if they did. subscribe, thev oould never be found when she wanted to collect- So the lady t-ook a walk to nerve herself for a new attack. 1

Clothing on Fire.

A girl or woman who meets with this abend en t sbouldimmedistely lie: down on the floor, and so any one who gook to her assistance^should instantly, if slto hp still erect, make her iie.’down, or/ if needful, throw her into a horizontal position and keep her in it. Sparks fly upward and flames ’ascend. Ignition from below mounts with, fearful rapidity, and, as a result well known to experts, 4fce fatality or disfigurement in these lamentable eases is due to the burns inflicted about the ltody, neck, face, and head, and not to injuries of the lower limbs. Now, the very moment that the person whose clothes are on fire is in a horizontal position on a flat surface, the flames still ascend, but only into the air, and pot encircling the victim. Time is thus gained lor further action, and in such a crisis in a fight against lire, a few seconds are precious, nay, priceless. Once in the prone position the person afflicted may crawl to a bellpull or to a door, so as to clutch at the one or open the other to obtain help. The draught from an open door into the room would serve to blow r the flames, if any, away from the body; or again, still crawling, the sufferer may be able to secure a rag or table cover, or other articles at hand to smother any remaining flames. I say remaining flames, for as soon as the horizontal position is assumed they have no longer much to feed upon, and may either go out, as the phrase is, or may be accidentally or intentionally extinguished as the person rolls or moves upon the floor. In any case, not only is time gained but the injury inflicted is minimized. ~ In the event of the conditions not being those of self help but of assistance from another, if it be a man who comes to the rescue,- having first or instantly. thrown the girl or woman down it is easy to take off liis coat and so stifle the diminished flame with this or some other suitable covering, the flames playing now upward from the lower limbs or lower part of the body of the prostrate fellow-creature. If it be a woman who rushes to give aid this last named condition suggests that the safer mode of rendering it is to approach the sufferer and fling something thence over the lower part of the body, for fear of setting fire to herself. If in these fearful accidents the horizontal position be assumed or enforced there would be, in short, comparative immunity and limited injury. , If not, what must happen? The fire -willmount, the flames (and it is these which do the injury) will envelop the body, inside and outside the clothes, and will reach the neck and head, and then, indeed, they may be smothered by a coat or wrapper or rug, while the victim is frightfully disfigured or is doomed to perish, ————- —- For many years J have urged these views while lecturing on injuries from burns,'and hence I have an occasion to illustrate them practically, though in a comparatively trival accident. Some dressings of a very inflammatory cliarr acter caught fire at the bedside Of a patient in one of my surgical wards ; they were promptly seized by student, who threw them iuto the middle of the ward and endeavored to stamp out the flaming material. But this, containing paraffine and resin, adhered to his boots; and bis legs, as he danced about, were getting uncomfortably hot. To his astonishment, and to the undoubted surprise of every one in sight, I caught him by the collar of his coat and tripped up his legs. Instantly the flames became harmless and were extinguished by the nurse throwing a jug of water on them.— John Marshall.

Hindoo Fanatics.

The scant success of the East Indian missions cannot be explained by the want of zealous missionaries, but rather by the fact that their zeal is directed against the most tenacious creed on earth—the ineradicable cult of Brahma. Brahmanism has withstood the attacks of Moslem and Portuguese zealots; it has survived the political convulsions of half a hundred centuries; it has done more. It has prevailed against the persuasive gospel of Buddha Sakyamuni.' Fifteen hundred years ago the largest part of Hindostan had accepted the doctrines of Buddhism, but the northwestern strongholds of Brahmanism gradually encroached on the territory of their rivals, and at present a hundred million es natives whose forefathers had, for a time, renounced all superstitions but the belief in the supernatural mission of their messiah have returned to their idols and worship a hundred of gods, besides the monkey Hanuman, and other zoological vermin. Their belief in the merit of self-torture, too, has revived in some of its most grotesque forms. Bidicule is impotent against the belief. Since Anglo-Saxon skeptics have superseded the old masters of Texas the Mexican “penitents” have become more self-afflictive than ever, ,and merely observe the precaution to veil their bloodsmeared faces. Nor has derision cooled .the enthusiasm of the Hindoo fakir. In the streets of Aurangabad, one of the most populous . cities of the Deccan, a British officer recently saw a devotee suspend himself head downward by twisting his legs around a sort of horizontal bar, exposed to the fierce glare of the noonday Bun. The observer, seated on the shady verandah of the stage-coach depot, watched hup from morning till noon, and saw him in statu quo when the coach started, an hour before sunset. Candidates for the distinction of a more perfect saintship supplement the caloric of solar heat by lighting fires in the open air and standing erect between three or four piles of blazing fagots. Few’ Caucasians could endure that ordeal for more than half an hour, but a Jainos, or Brahmanic devotee, will stand kis ground for days together, and indignantly refuse alleviation in the form of a cooling drink. Nay, even true-believing spectators would resent interference of that sort, for Tempting a Jainos to break his vow would provoke the vengeance, of an otherwise propitious deity, and perhaps compromise innocent third parties. Hindoo fakirs would smile at the idea of expiating sin by a pedestrian pilgrimage. Benares, the mouth of the Jumna, and other holy localities are yearly visited by pil-

V -I grims who have conquered, distance by wriggling along the highway, after fastening their wrists and ankles to a shoulder-strap, or even to an iron necklace. And yfet the Brahmans complain that the times of. true religious fervor are days of the past. The men who hoped to crush out the taint of original sin by hugging the wheels of the Juggernaut were only second-rate devotees; a true Jainos would deliver his soul from the thralldom of the liody by sitting down naked in a stronghold of horse ants, or by plastering a number of artificial sores with the caustic leaves of the tJrtica urens, unless he preferred to prolong the pleasure of self-destruc-tion by a diet of stramonium seeds.— Prof. Felix L. Oswald.

Points About Feet.

I don’t believe that it is when a woman has a small foot that she wants to show it just a little. lam open to serious correction, hut there seems to be quite a satisfaction to a woman in knowing that she has a" pretty foot, and a woman has a way anyhow of believing everybody knows what she -knows unless it be a secret. Then she never believes that anybody else knows even if she’s told it them a dozen times. But when a woman has a small foot and lias had it all her life, and known ft and been told about it for twenty years—l beg pardon, no lady is ever over that age, say ten years—-she gets so accustomed to it that it ceases to be a piece even of her vanity. It’s the woman with the long foot and the high instep that wants to show them. The high instep sometimes goes before a fall, and that’s why people with high insteps are always said to have plenty of pride. When a woman has succeeded in pinching, a big foot into a very small shoe she does not propose that all that trouble is to be gone to and all that agony suffered for nothing. So she always makes a point of having it displayed somehow. I beg pardon of the ladies for thus drawing attention to something I have no business with. I think the rudest thing I ever heard of was what one of the papers said about Mrs. Langtry, that after one of her scenes several of the ladies threw flowers at her feet. Mobbing her was all very well, but throwing flowers at her feet was carrying things too far and an outrage. Did you ever see a woman try on a pair of shoes ? You have! Then you’re either married or engaged in a shoe store, I hope.She had a lovely foot, and her visitors were admiring it. They were ladies. of course. A man who is not a - shoemaker dares not mention such a thing unless they are alone in a dim corner of the drawing-room where nobody can overbear. “What a beautiful foot you have, dear.” * “Yes; pa says when we go to Europe he’ll have a bust of it made.” Song!— San Francisco Chronicle.

The Cause of the Gulf Stream.

It has been recently reported that there is a plan on foot by the Prinee of Monaco to launch certain floats to ascertain the cause of the Gulf stream, and it is said that .the co-operation of the British authorities in this scientific project has been asked? Whether the observations made in pursuance of this object shall serve to clear up definitely all questions of the dynamical origin and propagation of the Gulf stream, or w’hether they merely solve some of the-disputed points, the scheme’ in itself deserves encouragement. Bottle experiments, to ascertain the velocity and course of the Gulf stream, fail to give exact information, because the bottle, being exposed to the winds as well as the current, gives a mixed reeord. But floats might be constructed so as to be. almost totally submerged, leaving so little surface exposed to the wind that the float would move with the, current, in the teeth of the wind. If the theory be sound that the winds alone cause the Gulf stream, it would make no difference how much of the float is left exposed. But this theory is discredited, if notonly utterly exploded, by the w r ell-known fact that two contiguous currents, flowing in opposite directions, are found in the same ocean area. It is therefore all important to such an inquiry as the Prince of Monaco, proposes that floats are use which will be well nigh insensible to wind agency, and will respond solely to the impulse received from the moving mass of water. If the researches are carried on with floats of this design there is little doubt that they will prove highly instructive.— New York Herald.

A Telling Speech.

A Western correspondent sends the, following: I recently listened to a debate in one of the school lyccums of this city upon the novel and momentous question of “woman suffrage.” The debater upon the “anti-woman” side was doubtless engaged in his first effort, and this fact, together with a slight impediment of speech and a most, original series of arguments, combined to produce one of the funniest and most unanswerable speeches that I had ever, heard. Here it is, almost in full: “Ladies and gentlemen, the first thing to find out is w-w-wliat man was m-made for, and what w-w-woman was made for. God created Adam first, and put him in the Garden of Eden. T-then He made JEve, and p-put her there too. If He hadn’t c-c-created Eve, there never would have been all the s-s-sin there is now in this w-world. If He hadn’t made Eve, she never would have p-p-picked the apple and eaten it. N-n-no, she never would have picked it and g-given it to Adam to eat. Paul in his epistles says w-w-women should k-k-keep still. And besides, 1-ladies and gentlemen, women couldn’t fill the offices. 1 d-d-defy anyone to p-point out a woman in this city or e-c-county that could be sheriff. Would a woman t-tum out in the dead of night to track and arnest a m-m-mnrderer? I say n-no! Ten to one she would elope w-w-with him!” And amid thunders of applause and laughter the gallant defender of man’s rights triumphantly tpok his seat .—Editor’s Drawer, in" Harper’s Magazine. In private, we must our thoughts; in the family, our tempers; in company, our tongues.

BIDDY AND WORKSHOP.

Ax electrical clock that runs without finding, is not affeqted by the atmosphere, cannot vary, and can l*e sold for 1 ofie-half this cost of the ordinary dock, has been invented in that, .enchanted region known as the Menlo Park, the home of the wizard Edison. Some soldering fluids are injurious to tools and also to parts that have been laid on the bench. The following fluid will not rust and tarnish any more than water: Take two ounces of alcohol and put into a bottle, add about a teaspoonful of chloride of zinc, and shake until dissolved. Use it in the same manner as muriate of zinc is commonly used. In spite of the alleged impossibility of operating telephone wires under ground the Bell Telephone Company’s report shows that 2,203 miles of telephone wire were put under ground last year in the cities of Washington, Chicago, New York, Pittsburgh, Boston, Brooklyn, Baltimore, and Milwaukee. There are now 3,428 miles of telephone wire under ground in these cities. During a recent discussion of the estimates for the railways of AlsaceLorraine, which are owned and worked by the State, it was mentioned that the daily work of locomotive drivers varied from four to five hours on fast trains to ten hours on freight trains with switching service for a long time. The drivers had every fourth or fifth, or at the least every seventh, dby for rest. Pointsmen or switchmen have a day off ©Very two w.eeks. Attention has been called to the connection which exists between gas explosions in coal mines and certain atmosphere conditions, which is expressed by saying that the number of such explosions is very considerably greater under atmospheric pressure (under socalled barometer depression) than with a normal or high barometer. Numerous experiments prosecuted last summer at the mines of archduke Albert, in Ostran-Karwin, confirmed the views of the English experts and those expressed by Cowen before the English parliament in 1878, and Science predicts that they will produce a change of opinion in other countries where those views are not known. They show the great importance of the barometer in coal-mining. The order is already in force at Karwin, forbidding blasting at all dangerous points on the approach of a barometric depression, and, if the danger increases, all work is to be suspended. A series of experiments have been made with natural gas in the puddling and heating furnaces of the Beaver Falls Iron Company, Beaver Falls, Pa., which, it is claimed by those who have been conducting the experiments, demonstrate as an actual fact that which has heretofore been deemed an impossibility. By the peculiar construction of the heating furnace upon which the test was made the gas, after being turned on and lighted, succeeded in bringing tlie furnace to a white heat in loss than t wo4lpurs; with coke it generally requires t'foolye hours to produce the same degree ofhelt. The furnace was a cinder or ore bottomed fur a ace, and grew so hot that the cinders in the bottom melted and ran out of the tap-ping-bole like liquid, and had not the furnace itself been built of the very best quality of fire brick it would have melted down. The heat was concentrated and combustion perfect. In the stack there was but little flame and but few degrees of beat.

An Indian Fairy Tale.

Once upon a time there was a dwarf, so very small in size that when he killed a -wren—all by himself, too— he thought he was a hero in the first degree, and strutted around in the grass as proud as if he had slain several braves of another tribe in single combat. He had one-lialf of the wren—a fair half; none of your irregular fractions—cooked at once for a feast of the whole lodge, and told his sister to cure the skin, as he had a mind to make himself a feather coat. And by and by he did another wren to death, and then he got his coat. But happening to go to sleep one day in the sunshine the heat made the birds’ skins shrivel up so that they became quite uncomfortably small, and the dwarf was furious. He vowed he would pay the sun out. So he got his sister to plait a rape out-rat-ber hair, and having made a slip knot in it he pegged it down on the other side of the bill, close to the fop of it, just where he had noticed the sun was accustomed to go up. And, sure enough, when the sun rose the next morning, it ran its head right into the slip-knot and got caught. The consternation in nature was prodigious until the dormouse remarking what Was- the matter, went and nibbled the plait through and released the luminary, whereupon everything went on just .as if nothing had happened. —r- - But the dwarf came home to hi 3 sister in high dudgeon. He was not going, he said, to bother himself about suns any more. It was not worth his while.- He had more serious matters to attend to. So he began preparation for going out on another wren hunt. Such, in the bald outline, is a red Indian “fairy story, ” which seems to me to illustrate fairly well the tone of the humor of the aboriginal American. Tho hero is a dwarf—and this is an essential point in folk-jest of a people who consider a fine physique the first qualification of manhood—and in his pompous pursuit of very small birds, and subsequent inflation tvhen he is successful in the chase, the leading characteristics of the red man are slyly burlesqued. He succeeds in an impossible exploit, and in the true spirit of the hero, makes no fuss about it; but when the sun is let go by the dormouse he affects to think such trifles as sun catching heneath him, and sets himself seriously to the task of killing another wren. There is a novelty in the flavor of this fooling and—a freshness of scene and circumstances that, so it appears to me, make the absurd story attraotive.— San Francisco Chronicle. A French botanist. M. Buysman, has enumerated 378 species of plants growing in Greenland, and he finds that they resemble those of Lapland more than those of the American continent.