Rensselaer Republican, Volume 19, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 June 1887 — Page 2

SURE AS THE TIDES. ' ■' w- . i l> f i i Fortune and friends *nd ail things lair, Held with never such pride and rare, Will alip from hie grasp like grains of sand, If he hold a cup in the other hand. All that le lovely and good will flee, Ae sure as the tides go out to sea. M\n win come hy sure degree*. Sorrow and pain, and foal disease, Will palsy the hand, to its finger-tips. ........... That carries a cop to the waiting lips. Remorse will come in the years to be, Ae sore as the tides come in from sea. Wrecks of fair hopes will strew life's shore. Passions like wreckers still lure on more, For the waked fiend will not be, still Till it shadows reason and shrivels will, Till despair as a constant guest abides, As sura, aye s* sure, as the ocean tides.

LESSON IN ANATOMY.

It was at Naples that the incident occtwTed of which I am about to speak, said Gen. Geraldi as he seated himself at a table in the Napolino Club room and lighted a cigar. It was many yfears ago and when I was a very much younger man than I am at present, but I have only to close my eye* ami the place—ihe scene, even to its smallest detail—is before me as distinctly as upon the day it happened. The name of the principal actor implicated in the horrible affair I withhold for obvious reasons, but 1 will say that he was a well known physician, celebrated in the profession of medicine and scientific surgery, and that he is dead. He died regretted, beloved, and honored by all who"knew him, though it might have been' otherwise* in spite of his generous and kindly nature, had everything been told; but I am getting too far ahead in the story. In the winter of 1860, the General continued, addressing the group of gentlemen gathered about the table with him, most of them in the semiofficial dress of men Who have at one time served in the army, business called me to the eity of Naples. I had been there six months or more when accident brought me the acquaintance of Pietro Gonzalez, a youth from the Island of Calabres. who had come to the Capital of the Two Sicilies for the the purpose of devoting himself to the profession of advocate. Pietro detested the profession of advocate, was wholly unfitted for iL, in fact, and had adopted it only to gratify the wishes of his father. However, at, the time that I met him he had given it up and was going through a course of medical studies as conscientiously, even though as perfunctorily, pursued as the former course of law. —— Perhaps you are not aware cf it. but it is nevertheless true that the parents of the youth of Italy, particularly of Naples, whether of the higher or of the middle classes of society, recognize but two suitable careers for their sons—one the bar. the other medicine —the "liberal professions'.’ as they call them—arrff: so far "do thprvaiTj'” Theperjudice that a young man who .persistsin the choice of a profession other than one of the two named is immediately turned out of cloors by "his parents, the ceremony being accompanied by appropriate maledictions. Under the circumstances it is not remarkable that Neapolitan circles are singularly lacking in notable architects, authors, poets, and painters, and singularly overcrowded in other directions; but to .return. A warm and close intimacy had gradually .established itself between Gonzalez and myself. One day. meeting him in the street on his way to one of his interminable lectures, lie invited me to accompany him. With little fancy for amusements of this kind I tried to get out of it, preferring to study the structure of the human body frpm books of physiology, or, better still, from living beings. It was not as realistic, of course, but sufficiently instructive for one whose business required him to make instead of mangling, corpses. Overruled at last by Peitrus persistency, but still against my will, I consented to go with him. No, decidedly. I have not forgotten the scene which chance or fatality made me a witness of. nor the theatre of its occurrence; but when I sav theatre, I do not use the right word—amphitheatre would be more correct, for we were in the disx>ot«ng-room of the “Hospital des Incurables, a cruel and sinister name for the unfortunate ones brought there to be treated.

Pietro told me as we walked along that Dr. X., we will cal! hiin.Anr the. sake of eohveaienco,' tew? filiysician to whom I referred a while ago, was not to deliver one of his Usual public lectures. but a semi-private lesson in anatomy to a dozen or so of his best pupils, demonstrated, of bourse. Ty the seapel. “ _ Pietro wasr occasionally permitted to bring a friend with him. He had invited—nay, more than that—lie had, kidnaped me, . . . The huge, circular ball appropriated to the making of autopsies in the Hospital des Incurables wa£ lighted— I had forgotten to .-at that it was a night lectum—by a large and peculiarly con- - struyted lantern hanging low from the center of the eeiimg. A powerful um-brella-shaped reflector, supported Upon’ an upright, was so arranged above the lantern as to throw all the Ilght fronF the burners down upon a marble table standing just beneath it. The rest of the lugubrious apartment was plunged in a black obscurity. * The class of students was already assembled when we entered the dissect-ing-room, talking, laughing, and rallying each other with the levity us thoughtless youth, and at the moment of our arrival- two of the hospital attendants were bringing in the body, the “subject” of the coming lecture, wrapped in an bid and dingy shroud. Judging from the panfjng and puffing

as thetnen, theirntating shuffle of their feet upon the floor, and tlie haste with which they tumbled it upon the slab, the “subject - ' was in an unusually robust condition. - A moment later 'the* doctor entered the room and with a courteous inclination'in the direction of the students at. once approached the table. “I will occupy your attention this evening; gentlcmeir, 1 ’ he began, carefully. uncovering the I sidy and scrutinizing it closely, “with the organs of respiration, and, as Jou see, the subject before us is particularly well adapted to display their wonderful nmehanism. He is young, perfectly-formed, and what is more essential still, has not died from any disease either of the trachea, "Bronchial tubes, or the lungs. We shall therefore beriible' to see these organs in an entirely natural state. Wo shall begin with physiology—pathology will in its turn.” Tlie doctor said all this in a sort of preamble, as lie drew from his satchel a case of instruments, and from the case of instruments a superb seapel. , The students gathered about the table with that expectancy oflouk, that eager attention shown by all truc#eekers after knowledge. It was not amusing, I can assure you, but since I was there I did j as the others did and joined tlie circle j about the body. You all recall Rembrandt's “Lesson in Anatomy,” do you not? said Gen. Geraldi, appealing to his companions. Well, add to that the timings, the shadows, the groupings, of a Guerard Storer, better known as the “painter of nights.” and you will have some little idea of that lugubrious scene. The body, stretched upon the table, naked, and lying in the light of the lantern, was that of a man suddenly struck by death in the very prime of -life. Magnificently formed, of tall, commanding stature, and with round and well-developed muscles, he would have been a model for an artist. • * * * There was profound silence in the room as the doctor began his preparations to open the body. “This””said he, carefully adjusting the instrument to the neck of the corpse, “the point at which we shall begin the examination, is the (esophagus, or gullet, the pipe that supplies the air to the lungs,” and with a short, swift turn of the wrist the doctor buried the scalpel deeply. As the instrument sank into the tlesh the man started up, his pale face violently contracted, his. hands clinched, his breast heaving, His eyes, openii g again and again. | fixed themselves upon us with strange and untranslatable looks, a hoarse and strangled cry forcing itself from the purple lips. At this horrible sight the doctor became, as pale as death,-then as fed as flame. With a sudden, rapid movement of the scalpel, using” all his strength, he opened the breast of the man from windpipe, to diaphragm. At the same time, in a vfiice made firm by prodigious effort of will, he said to his pupils: “Give me your attention, please; galvanic phenomena are of no importance—the lesson now begins.” All this passed in less than a second I felt my temples covered with a cold sweat—my legs bent under me. I was fom-d to hold to the upright of the lantern to keep myself erect. That cry—that hoarse, gasping agonizing cryterrified and appalled me! I raised my eyes to Gonzalez and to the rest of tlnclass—they also were ghastly with fright—but no one spoke, no one moved, no one dared to risk even a gesture. They understood instinctively that the doctor, convinced of the impossibility of restoring the man after the wound he had given him, had taken the surest and promptest way of finishing him. No matter what had been the ruling motive in this mangling of the poor wretch before us, humanity, philanthropy; self-interest, he had nevertheless: been assasinated. What must have been the feelings of that physician as, never for an instant losing his presence of mind; he forced himself to continue the lesson! He perceived, of course, the embarrassment of his auditors. distracted by tlie' memory of that terrible cry, that imploring look; yet nothing in face or manner betrayed it. After the lirst involuntary tremor not a muscle quivered; his voice was never calmer, his sentences more sonorously rounded, fluent, or eloquent'.

The uneasiness was. general, and at the close of the lecture—the length of it considerable abridged 1 , I can tell you—we hurried from the room, the doctor going with us, but not without first slipping in some clever words about the '-as yet unraveled mysteries of science,” “professional secrets,” and “discretion 'generally” 'as necessary ai quality to the success of a physician, so ] the doctor stated, as knowledge, of the j calling itself. All the same he took good care not to refer to vrlvau- we liad- | ! seen and heard at the opening of the : lecture, but he knew fliaf we ha’d uhderstood his meaning, and read upon bar: fa ees. as by tacit t-v-nsent, the j .remise of inviolate secrecy. . . .Well, -awlwe kiret-ite~smd~-Geraldi,. laying a j sidtf his cigar and raising to leave the ; roomr b.it it is needless -to sav that I ■ j have never since attended a dissecting I • seance. A- for Pietro Gonzalez, he is | ; not a doctor. The peaceful avocation ’ j. Of Gal:'.bt".;tr. sheep- raising insomnia no 1 longer sits upon his pillow and ’.plague j I him with a-sealpel ■—Adaptad by A. de Lanzicrt s Thcmincs. ~ 0

Still Unsolved.

The question why the walls of the stomach and the intestines are not di- ! Rested by the digestive fluids they . contain has been debated. but no satisfactory answer has yet been given. As long ago as 1772 Dr. John Hunter, in a paper before the Royal Society, held the ground that it was because the tissues were ; ••alive.” but the ‘-moment that any of those lose the living principle they become subject to the digestive powers of the stomach.’’'t In the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal Dr. J.

Warren goes over the ground ai\d reviews the evidence up to tlie present date.- llis own experiments were carried out on a number of frogs. He j suspended several frogS so that their 1 legs were In an’ artifical gastric juice ! made up from water, pe] sin. and' hy- | drOchloricacid,and shoved from the j presence of peptones in the fluid that tholiving’mUscles of th- frogs must 1 have undergone digestion, If the pepj sin was left out of the 1 lid the nius- ! eles were softened, but ‘ >t peptonized -7-i. e.,not digested. F. uu 'these investigations it appears i hat the question is again as far from solutiuu a* ever,

Bonner and Conkling.

One day last week a quiet-looking gentleman was driving a big bay gelding down the avenue, leisurely, at ji three-minute gait. As he approached a light wagon driven, by a tall man with a snowy Venetian beard, the tall man's horse quickened his gait. Tlie quiet gentleman following thought the other desirous of a brush.' ..-He hituseff-j was driving a very good roadster, one of the kind that will do whatever is asked of him within his limit, and liis limit is not narrow. The horse was quickened to a 2:60 clip, and still the i tall man’s animal was let out to a 2:40 ; gait, and yet an obstinate two lengths ; separated him from the leader. “Well,” ! said the quite to himself, “I'j think I will see what kind of a chap that is.” He pulled the 2:30 stop on his trot- i ter, under which pressure the tall man was gradually overhauled. As the nose of the follower reached his wheel the quiet-looking gentleman saw that the tall man's horse showed signs of getting tangled.. For an instant he held his horse Ib, allowing the tall man to open a gap of two lengths. Then for the lirst time, he let his horse have liis head. The speed which had been gradually lowered from three minutes to 2:60, 2:40, and 2:30, consecutively,-: became nearly a two minute clip. As the big bay rushed by him like a loco- j motive the tall gentleman’s horse broke I and went up in the air. The rush continued. A 2:30 trotter, going at speed | and driven by a still taller man was passed The animal jumped into the roadside ditch, frightened by the terrific speed of the quiet gentleman’s horse. Before One Hundred and Twenty-fifth street was reached the very tall man, whose mare had gone for the ditch, joined conversation with the quietgentleman, who was Robert Bonner, out for an airing with Picard. “Bless my soul, Mr. Bonner,” said he, “I don’t think I ever saw a horse trot so fast. My old skate is good for 2:30 any day, but she didn’t know \v lie re she was.” - Just then the tall gentlemen caught up, and the owner of “the old skate,” with tlie Venetian beard, Jack Dawson, seeing that Mr. Bonner was apparently unacquainted with him. said: “Mr. Bonner; allow 'me to introduce you to Senator Conkling. ” The two gentlemen, thus hastily introduced. had ffiet seventeen nr eighttee u years ago. We are pleased to note that such distinguished, citizens as Senator Conkling are becoming fond of the pleasures of the road. John Murphy drove Picard a half mile in lat Fleetwood Park last Thursday. By the way; Murphy v elghed 126 pounds and the wagon weighed 260 pounds. So great a weifht was never before drawn at that speed for. the distance.— [Turf Ficld.and Farm

Mark Twain's Native Gallantry.

That was a graceful thing Mark— Twain did with regard to his last mag- : azine article, “English as She Is Taught,” in the April Century. It : seems that a Miss Le Row, a teacher in the Central Grammar School, in Brook- ! lyn. Collecting the absurilest of the mistakes of pupils in their reclta- j tions, answers and compositions. When ! she had a grand pile she determined to publish them in book form, and she wrote to Twain to know if she might dedicate the work to him. She sent j him proof sheets. He made up a magazine article to help the book along and sent her proofs of that. He also got her to change the title from “Teaching the Young Idea” to “English as She Is Taught.” She cut his magazine proofs mateyially, takiug out what she thought reflected unpleasantly on her profession. The arti- , cle as he wrote it was worth $250, hut she much reduced it. and Mark made a tight for. his full price and got it. When lyiuu liC fTfade It fiver to her " and mailed it"to her,~so r that she got the money, as well.as the tremendous piutlte He h: d '.never-seen heuin. hhrlife,^; — 3— x

Trying a Lawyer.

—-A. writer in the Fairtield (Me.) Jottfttitl hears a story with a moral from Roland Spring. One of the. boarders there this sui;«mer was a young try lawyer with a small practice, who eame to..the hotel with an invalid sister. A rich : old tello W" from ITui ad,eb>h ia. made his- acquaintance at the side and was pteasecj with him. mjw. v this rich old man wanted an lioucst man to send to Europe on an important business mission. He thought this young lawyer would till the v bill, but proceeded to test him first. After gaining his confidence he told jhiinW a plan he had for making money by di short but very dishonest method. The young man listened attentively, and then - firmly declined to be a party to any such arrangement. In vain the-old man-: pleaded that scores' of*men occupying high positions to day had . made tlteir start in precisely such a way. The young man was firm as a rock. The result was that the Philadelphian, being j convinced of the young rnaa’s integrity, engaged his services, and he is now on his way to'Europe.

COUNTRY LIFE AND WORK.

MISPRIZED, * I b*4 peari—* wornlrnns on? The rnr' ft, pumt iS-'Srl in at: the tttrid. O, my dim eyes that saw not how :t shone! I dropped it in the dust, nor mourned it gone, But kissed the flaunting flowers in my hand. go-day—O, late and vain or tears or prayer! 1 0, Jate and vain.lost pearl,my fondest quest! Though now, at last I know tbee radiant fair, A ltd now I know thee sweet beyond compare—i How that thou nbtneet on another's breast, i —Kathulut K. C outlay. - ANTICIPATION’. The woods are still. A llttlr rush of brooks Ituns down in baste to meet the river; ■ 1 The sby hints lark 1u unsuspected nooks. Where i.truggling snnshine falls a-(juiver. Faintly then greets ns that fresh,nameless scent i Of broken mold and green things grow ing. While overhead the young-leaved boughs are bent By roguish winds, too rndely bibwing. 6 strange, sweet tinicl Those hours of delay <■ Wfceii all.the world, priifce, plowboy, poet, Cries out in longing for the laggard May— They are our happiest—did we know it! —Providence Journal. ' MOSQVITOHS. At the Hampshire Harvest Club’s recent meeting Prof. Ferpakl exhibits ed a small case of insects in which were shown tjie carpet beetle, lady bird, beetle and clothes moth, and gave a very interesting talk on insects. He gave many facts relative to tlie aphides or green plant lice, showing their productiveness, their destructiveness and the value of the beetle called the “lady bug” as an exterminator. He alluded ’to the use made of plant lice by the ‘antswho obtained much food from them. Each plant louse lays" lOOeggs;eaoh egg hatches and each of these lays its 100 eggs down to tlie tenth generation. The product of these ten generations, placed in single file, would reach one million times round the earth, extend to the sun and back again,and if placed ed side by side, would cover every green thing on the face of the earth. The Value of the mosquito as a scavenger was shown. The female lays 300 eggs upon the water in a compact mass which floats lightly in all directions;, these hatch into a water insect or wriggler, that may be seen in ponds or stagnant water. In time the wriggler comes to the surface, bursts his skin and the mosquito appears. These wrigglers feed upon decaying, vegetable matter that would otherwise decompose and leave malarious and disagreeable odors." He tried an experiment by taking a couple .of hogsheads and' allowing them to till with rain water, one he covered with netting so as to prevent the mosquitoes from laying their eggs upon the water, and the other lie left uncovered. In a short time the covered hogshead became so offensive that it had to be emptied while the other was sweet and clean. This was the only use hi the economy of nature to which this pest could be ptit, but it was of incalculable benefit in repressing the odors of swamps and stagnant pools of water. - CLOVER SICKNESS. Farmers on comparatively new land don't Understand this term. Land does get siek of growing clover when it conies round too often in a rotation and I saw a good deal of it when living in the midlandcountics of England. I never heard of the clover dyingawav or failing when coming around only once in seven years but have in a five course rotation and in the four course it was well known to .bo uncertain, winch caused aIT the farmers of upland or light soil to sow a mixture of grasses and' my quantities per acre on “stone -brash” chalk or “down soils,” was one bushel of rye grass, 7 pounds of ow grass, 7 pounds, of white clover. ealled.D.utch.clovcr. and 7 pounds of trefoil. By sewing these grsses altogether alternately the regular red clover atone only came once in eight or ten years which did away with danger of clover sickness. On the lowland and on all strong clay soils there was no clover sickness unless it was repeated in less than seven years and this being known to all who occupy such land if it occurs from any cause that green forage crops are more desirable they grow vetches, which crop has no equal, being superior to any crop fed green to any kind of stock and though there is no second growth there is tifue togrow turnips or rape after. ' I'ROF. SANBORN, Gives the following as a practical butter ration: Early cut hay, cut from ground drained-byjiatiire or by art, nice, sweet fodder, corn or,, corn fodder, bright clover hay with' the leaves all savod.sound cornmcal arid a few carrots will make the best of butter in amount, color, aroma, and texture. - Bran wiß-\v-ill cut down the quantity and quality of the butter, < specially if given in large quantities. I speak of it as a substitute for cornmcal. There is —no substitute for tine ground oonnc'al. not .crushed, but flour of corn. The energy of cows .must be.turned to milk.production and •not to-corn grinding,' nor to catrying two pounds of vorn-to digest one with its interfei once with digestion. We can not atlord to grind 30 cent corn for steers, blit for eows we can. Oats will not give tlie color to the butter that -corn will, .while,the oil meals give a less desiraßte-eolor- and poorer texture.* A small'amount of e7>ttbirseß(Hiieal4s_fa.v=-. arable to quality -if a larger amount of corn fodder is given, and in . small amounts not censurable,i Two to three pounds a day is till that 1 would desire, while ten pounds of meal in total is enough of grain. It E S P O N STBILUCIES QFB UTT E It AKERS. Now that the. farmers have made the politicians declare thfe manufacture of bogus butter illegal, and passed laws stopping it; the farmer should manufacture a good article of the genuine stuff. We have srood feed and good water, but a little more care and cleanliness on the part of many dairymen will not be a miss. ’ *■ sIn the first plaee, the cows must have

clean food and pure, coOl water. The utmo.st cleanliness must be observed in milking; for all tilth in milk goes int< the butter, 'the milk-room must be of the right temperature. If it is 100 warm, the milk sours too.soon, and if too cold the cream will not rise. It should be from sixty to sixty-threedegrees. Nothing impure, or from which any odor arises.should lie in or near the milk-room T,he cream absoobs all odors, agreeable Of disagreeable, whlchgo into the butter. The milk pans must be scalded ■and sunned, and kept sweet. Churns frcqucnly are put in cellars ou dose places, and are but poorly cleansed for use. After churning they should be 1 thoroughly washed and dried, and then placed where they will not absorb any disagreeable flavor. There is no article of diet so likely to be injured in preparation as butter. It is the concentrated cream of everything which is in the milk, whether it be material dirt or intangible odor. It is the cori'centrated essence of whatever impurities drop in or are imbibed by the milk. Think of this, ye milkers and butter makers. c * -V-A—: FEEDING-CALVES. =xv' * ™ ! The milk of the mother, drawn from the udder by the calf, is the best and most natural food that a calf can have, but economical and other considerations come in to prevent this natural method of bringing up calves, although it may be practiced by breeders of pure blood stock. Among dairymen the cream or a considerable part of the milk may be desired, arid so natural methods must be supplanted by some acceptable artjlieal one. It is better, if a calf is to bo -raised, to learn it to drink, and to do this as soon as possible after it is dropped: then, after it gets a good start by the use of full new milk, its feed may be gradually changed by substituting skim-milk and linseed or flaxseed gruel er it may also be fed with oatmeal, ground reasonably Tine, with the hulls bolted or sifted out. The only point to be eonsiderd is to secure a ration that is as rich as the new milk of the cow. Boil a pint of flaxseed or oil meal in ten or twelve quarts of water and then nfix this with skim-milk in the proportion of about one quart to three, feeding blood-warm. Use occasionally a little oatmeal; if there is a tendency to scour for two or there meals, give in the milk a quart of common wheat flour. Pea meal is good with skim-milk. In this way the richness of the milk removed by skimming is restored,and even its, value increased if desired. THE FRUITS; Strawberries —Lay straw, marsh hay or other mulch along the rows; to keep the fruit-clean. If berries are to be marketed, have baskets, crates', etc., all ready.Raspberries—Allow enough new shoots that come up from the base to grow, to produce canes for next year’s truit; train up these, and cut away all others. , Currants and Gooseberries—Upon the first appearance of holes in the leaves, apply: white hellebore. —Mulch the bushes; this will prolong tlie season. Grapevines—As a rule, allow a newly planted vine to bear but a "single" shoot. I)o not allow young vines to overbear. Two clusters to a cane are enough. Thinning Fruit—The earlier fruit is thinned, the more profitable the operation, if one has fine early apples,peaches or pears, for a near market.’ Insects —Wherever the caterpillar spreads its white tent, there is a call for work. The - hand, with or without a glove, is the most effective implement to use; Pull out the nest and kill its inmates with the foot. Apply bands of carpet or coarse fabric around the trunks of the trees, to entrap the caterpillar of the Codling-moth wksn it seeks a place to spin. GARDEN NOTES. jKeep the flowerstalks of rhubarb cut away. When fruits come, give’ the plants a rest. Sow the main crop of beets and carrots if not yet done. Thin the earlier sowings and keep clear of weeds. Sow beets every two weeks, to have an abundance of thinning to use for greens. If Spinach is sown now,, it will run to seed. Sow New Zealand Sninach 'instead. and the other again in September. Young beets are an excellent substitute for spinach. Egg plants should not go out until settled warm weather: set them in richly manured hilfs, and look out for i ■ •Potatcrc bug.'. ’ ■’ ~ - " If the. celery plants in the seed beds are growing rapidly, cut back the leaves one-half, to prepare them for transplanting, making them stocky and hardy. ~ Encourage the growth of sweet. corn by frequent hoeings, giving atop-dress-ing- of plaster, guano or other good fertilizer. Plant at freqnenLs'hit'ftryßilwOne rarely has too much sweet corn. Sow peas for succession weather comes on very hot. they will fare poorly. Some of the prulific dwarf sorts, in moist ground often do well even as late as this. „ All props do best wbere .the ground has been deeply plowed'atid~then-well-worked with the pulvi rizer and harrow until the soil is as fine as that intended for a garden. No clods or lumps should be allowed on any field. Ohe or two' hari'owings will npt always suffice blit the soil should be harrowed in every direction and until thoroughly fine. The labor so bestowed will be repaid -in the crep grown upon the field. Squashes.—lt is not too late to sow the Hubbard, Marblehead and other sorts. Manure the whole ground, with a generous quantity in the hills. Use a plenty of seed, and dust the young, plants as they appear, as directed for cucumbers. ! Do not disturb the vines, but let them take rqots where they will.

INDUSTRIAL.

An extremely useful cement for experimental use is made, from equal quantities of gutta percha and white j pine pitch melted together. The ccm- ! pound should be without lumps- It improves by remelting, and softens at : about the temperature of* boiling : water. j The census of 18S0 reported the cap- ; ital invested in agriculture in Massa^ I chuset.t3 was $164,000,000, against $22,000,000 in the manufacture of boot and shoes, $20,0?)0,000 in the j manufacture of woollen goods ah-d , $72,000,000 in the manufacture of cotton goods. > That German who has invented a simple method of deadening the sound I of the piano deserves a monument of j solid gold. The contrivance consists j merely of the application of fine i flannel to the frame between the : strings and hammer of an upright ! piano. The sound can be graduated 1 at will without injuriug the quality of I the tone— .—.— "t >. jJ:.. A fruit drier has been patented. | Combined with apartments open at; j both ends are horizontal partitions | with transverse slots and rearward and ■ upwardly bent flanges, with drawers | having upwardly bent front ends, for drying fruit, preferably by hot water, and also by steam, drying it quickly, evenly, and so that it will retain all that is possible of its fresh flavor. To coat small articles with bronze, by dipping: Make a bronze dip by mixing bronze powder with thin varnish. Thin any ordinary varnish with turpentine, and keep it thoroughly stirred while dipping. A better and brighter bronzing is made by dipping in very thin varnish and allowing it to partially dry, then brushing the work with the dry powder on a fur brush. An end gate for wagons has been patented. It is so made that it may be applied to either or both ends, will act either as an end gate, scoop board, or dump gate, may be held or placed at any desired angle, is capable of being removed or applied at will, will prevent the sides of the wagon from spreading, and also prevents the contents of the wagon from spilling out. An improved plow jointer, for cutting off the edge of the furrow slice and depositing it in the previous furrow, has been patented. The invention covers a simple construction, whereby it is intended that the draught of the plow shall not be sensibly increased, and the jointer will act substantially in the ordinary form, and it is so made that it can be' used as an attachment for any form of plow. Blankets manufactured by the Navajo Indian women of Arizona are sought as curiosities by tourists. The squaws card the wool, spin the yarn, and weave the blankets with aid of sharp pointed sticks. It requires, according to the size of the blanket, from thirty days to four months’ time to make one. Hence, they are very valuable. 8o skillfully and firmly are the blankets made that they will shed water twenty-four hours before they will leak. . ■ . - Mechanical News describes an ingenioui means of repairing a break in a steam pipe: The break is bound with wood strips, laid close together, and well served around with stout cord or rope. Endwise separation is prevented by more rope crossing the break diagonally, and tied so as to draw the broken parts together. "When the wood and the cord get wet with the steam, the joint is even tighter than before, for the wood swells and- the cords shorten. A new discovery in mechanics was investigated recently by a party of New Y'orkers. The result accomplished by the discovery is the pulverization or grinding of the hardest substances by the action of air set in motion resembling that of a cyclone. The air is confined in an iron chamber not larger than an ordinary house furnace. At a test given in a paint factory, where the machine has been in operation for six months past, nails, slag* and flint rock were reduced to an impalpable powder, while the operation was equally effective with phosphates, mica, asbestos, rice hulls, .and other pulpy or sos te substances. The device is very inexpensive, and so far as the investigation showed accomplished results so important as to poTnUto a revolution in pulverizing and grinding operations in numerous departments of trade. .. f* - ' ~ ■ .' v L

A Butcher Bird Whips a Snake.

Edward Perry, of this city, while near Florence, on Wednesday, witnessed a prolonged fight between a small butcher bird, about the size of a mocking bird, and a spotted snake about three feet long. Mr. Perry'came upon the combatants, how long after the fight he did not know, but witnessed its conclusion at the end of an hour. This snake would coil up and strike at the bird as it came at him, but without effect. Then the bird would dart at the reptiie and strike it on some part of the body. Then the snake would raise its head several inches and 'keep its forked tongue in motion back and forth for a full min- ~ ute. This was the bird's opportunity, and he profited by striking the snake on the body. :: ■ ——~.~ Twice the bird went to a small stream and took a drink, returning to the contest with renewed vigor. At last the snake grew weary, and a sudden dart by the bird at its head caused the loss of an eye. The snake then, for the first time, tried to get away, and writhed in pain. Soon the bird saw another chance, and this time knocked out the othpr eye.- When the bird discovered that his victory was complete he—went away, when Mr. Perry went to the snake and saw that “Its eyes were out. He left it to its * fate, which was that of a blind Bnake, without means of finding food. —Los Angeles Express. ——