Rensselaer Republican, Volume 25, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 November 1892 — Page 6

SHE HATED POOR MEN.

BY MANDA L. CROCKER.

“Berenice! eotno here.” “Yes, mother.” A sweet faced girl-woman left her place in the deep bay window where she had been arranging the flowers and came reluctantly over to the side of the elderly lady bv the table. Detroit and his book-keeping?” A saicastic curl of the lip accompan - ied the quesUoa,—-.. —- “He expects to return to the city on next Wednesday, I believe,” answered the daughter, a peculiar expression coming into word and manner. •‘Well, I am glad of it!” exclaimed the mother triumphantly, “for I don’t want him poking around here on Thank giving Day when our city * frieoiT,'Howard • Atherling, is with vs,- He comes to spend the week with his ancle’s family, you know, and I’ve sent an invitation to all to eat Thanksgiving dinner with us." “Ves; so you told me yesterday." And Bernice went back to her flowering about her determined mouth. Mrs. Hunter leaned back among the cushions and took up her crocheting once more. Bernice's affections should be transferred from that pooh, penniless book-keeper to the handsome, rising young lawyer who already . had u snug fortune, if she, Mrs. Isabelle Hunter, had any tact in match-uratcing. Yes, decidedly it must be. Week lifter next would be Thanksgiving, and the Atherlings were expecting Howard. And by family and education the young lawyer and Bem.ce were suited to each other =~r== But then this contrary freak of her daughter's threatened now to upset alt her calculations and bring trouble in another direction. Bernice seemed to utterly ignore the young -disciple of Blackstone, E referring the society of merely a ook-keeper here of late.

It was really too provoking for any use; yet she was thinking, as she thrust the shining needle through the meshes, that after all the girl only meant to tease and amuse herself with Will Thursby for a time. It could mot be that a daughter of hers would so far forget her social po ition as tci he iu eUHivst in so doitfgr Elise had married wealthy, and Olxiu had become the proud wife of a Chicago Hanker, and Bernice must follow their example, or she, Mrs. Isabelle Huuter, would know why not. Yes. Well, then, next week that j penniless but dangerously winning Thursby would go ha k. to his em plover, and the coast would be clear I for the working of her much desired plan. How lucky 1 ‘‘Will ’’said a sweet voice over the back gate that evening, “ did you say that you knsvWwhen Howard Atherling's wedding takes place?” “The cards are ont for the day before Thanksgiving, ” answered he, “ but why do you ask, Bernice V ” She leaned towavd him and wh'spered something in a low, laughing wav and Will Thursby drew the dear head down to his breast and said: “Then your mother doesn't' know that I have fallen heir to the co >1 thousands, and that I only go back to Detroit to arrange the office affairs for my successor ? ” “ No ; I shall keep it from her until. A therling is manned, just for fun inch so verymuch, especially bookkeepers; but ~~ttreirtTan I " ,j ust imagi iie~haw q'uick ly she will fait in love with Mr~. Will Thursby when it comes out that lie Is lifted above the necessity of earning his own bread and butter. ”

And we leave them en oying their happy secret bv the wicket in the November twilight. Thanksgiving morning dawfiserisp and bright. Everything is in keeping with an air of thankflitness for a (misperous year in Mrs. Hunter’s ovelv home, and she. like the grim Puritan that she assumes to be, makes it her religious duty to attend church services, and see that everv one belonging to her household is punctually in her pew. The Atiierlings are there also, and Howard is there also, looking more stylish and handsomer than ever. But u lady at his side seems to claim all his attention, and is dressed, too, like a bride. It certainly wasn’t Grace Atherling, his proud sister, whom she met once at their uncle’s a year ago. No ; she didn't resemble her one bit. That Ijrovokingly beautiful veil, too. onked like the crowhTug point of a bridal trousseau. Mrs.f Hunter looked again. This time she saw a look on the handsome young lawyer’s face as he gazed down on the woman beside him that ma-Je her feel awfully uncomfortable, somehow. Weil, Mrs. Isabelle Hunter sat the ’ services out without feeling the least bit thankful, for reasons best known to herself. Bernice, however, seemed wonderfully attentive to the sermon. “This is my wife, Mrs. bowed Howard Atherling at tHe close of worship, as lie led the veiled lady up for an introduction. “ Lena, dear, this is my old friend Mrs. Hunter, of whom 1 have often spoken, and this, ” turning to Bernice, who stood by with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “is another friend of mine, Miss Hunter. ” '■ “lam sure we shall be the best of friends. ” excluiined Bernice, delightedly, as she acknowledged the introduction by a cordial clasp of the hand und a duinty little kiss on the , fair cheek of Mrs. Howard Ather- «»«. Mamma Hunter said but little on the way homo, but her daughter

(ceased not to dwell on the exquisite taste of the bride's attire, fairly bubbling over that her dear friend •Howard Atherling had such a ladylike - There are more martyrs in this' world than those burned at the stake ; and Mrs. Hunter felt jn her inmost soul th t she suffered all the keenness of chagrin and wounded pride in that short service hour. But it could not ho helped. Howard Atherling had a right to marry whosoever he pleased, for all her; trow tlmtbe b*d exercised that right. Bernice would most likely have her bent in preferring that poverty-stricken Thursby. It would come to more than that, too, her motherly intuition knd her. She had always heard of the “ black sheep, ” but she didn’t think such a dreadful thing would crop out in the Hunter family. = ~~ Now, something told her that Bernice, with her wit and .beauty, her accomplishments and queenly bearing, would metamorphose herself shortly into that undesirable creature, and likely as not elope with that bookkeeper—maybe before Christmas; she had noticed that they were wonderfully intimate Oh. dear! 3 3 But the Atherlings bad accepted her invitation, and must be entertained. Her enviable title as-the finest hostess in all Merriweather must not suaer; so, laying aside her terr i bleheartache, Mrs. Hunter put through the day in the red hot cruci-

ble of substituting smiles for tears. She felt more like weeping bitterly of course, than smiling down on the innocent, git fish figure usurping the place she had so long coveted for Bernice; but there was no opportunity, and she must live it down. Finally the day dragged through, and what a Thanksgiving it had been, to be sure. None but Mamma Hunter even knew how every moment of that awful day lengthened out on purpose to stab her wounded, cumulative pride through aud through. Strange that Bernice did not by word or look taunt her with the failure of her plans; she was doubtless too weil satisfied with the prospect of being left with Thursbv only to entertain. Never “min'd, that book

keeper should never enter the house at Merriweather Place again; she would have her revenge. The Alheiiings were gone now. the china and silver had been restored to their respective closets, and Bernice had gone sedately up stairs to write a letter, and a neighbor, Mrs. Amsden, dropped in. “Of course you’ve heard the news,” she claimed, almost before Mrs. Hunter wheeled an easy chair into place for her comfort. —— “That Howard Atherling is married? Yes; he and his wife were here to day,” replied Mrs. Hunter, coldly. “No!oh, no; that’s nothing out of the common,” exclaimed Mrs. Amsden, impatiently', “all young folks marry, or expect to, at least, but what I meant to tell you is wonderfully good luck for your daughter, Bernice.” “I don’t understand/’ said Mrs. Hunter, mystified, veering out, figuratively, i’or the silver lining to the November cloud. “Why, don’t you know,” excitedly exelaime 1 the other, “that Bernice is the only girl in all the wide world that Will Thursby cares for, and now be s worth his thousands and thousands.” ... —~~jr Mfs,~B unter leaned toward her -friend with a sl rangccommiHgtfflgvT hope, doubt and fear on her aristocratic face. . Putting her hand on the arm of Mrs. Amsden, she whispered: “Is that true?”

“Why, yes, of course it is. I guess I ought to know, when Mr. Amsden is engaged as agent already to look after some real estate here falling to the fortunate Thursby soon. “O—o— oh!” cried Mrs. Hunter, clasping her hands in an ecstucy of delight. - “And he is a most desirable companion. too ” “Your daughters have all done well, Mrs. Hunter,” pursued her friend, “and it is so very lucky for them, and you, too;” “My daughters know better than to do any other way,” replied the blue-blooded mother, proudly. ‘‘Bernice. too, is a very sensible girl, and I’ve always felt easy about her choice of company.” After an hour Mrs. Amsden took her Mrs. Hunter, tiptoeing to the stairway, called softly: “Bernice! Bernice!” “ Yes’m.” And shortly the daughter descended, writing materials in hand, and with oue dainty finger blackened w i think. “I’ve been writting to that horrid book-keeper, mamma,” sho said, in answer to her mother’s look of inouirv. “I’ve concluded to drop Will Thursby and not waste my time any longer on a moneyless man; don’t you think I’m growing sensible?” A flush of shame that her objections to the young man would spoil be laid bare come over Mrs. Hunter's face, but she said bravely enough: “Don’t you love him a bit, dear?” “What’s love-insipid tiling—compared with money?’ 1 retorted Beruice ironically, 'j “Butr-Wm Thursby Is wealthy now,” ventured the mother; “hasn’t he told you anything as yet? I should have thought he would; Mrs. Amsdun told me." “Impossible!" replied Beruice, warmly. '( “If he had money he would have told me, would he not? Mrs. Amsden—fudge!” “But I wouldu't send the letter, dear," advised the mother, “for it is certainly true that he is wealthy. Mr. Amsden is his.agent here to look after his real estate in this vicinity." Bernice Cite * to

be thinking deeply as sbe twirled the letter around on her finger. “Oh, well,” she said lightly, “suppose he is; it will always nang over him that he once kept books for a wholesale grocery st re in Detroit. 1 should always remember it, and it would be humiliating, to say the least. No, I’ll send the letter and end it.” Mrs. Hunter began to cry. She was satisfied that Thursby was no longer poor, and she knew that in every other respect he was a man to be admired. “Oh, Bernice!” she moaned hysterically , sank into a seat, ‘ how awfully contrary you The door-bell rang at this juncture and put an end to further protest. A servant soon ushered in Mr. Will Thursby. Mrs. Hunter came forward with a glad welcome on her lips, but Bernice only said, “You’ve missed your Thanksgiving dinner. Mr. Thursby,” '‘l do so deslie to congratulate you on your good fortune,” cried Mrs. Hunter, holding out both hands in an exceedingly cordial manner. Will Thursby took one proffered palm with a curious smile, but said nothing. “Why don’t you congratulate him, Bernice?” asked the mother in a half angry tone. “O, I don’t care to overdo the matter; I congratulated him three weeks ago,” replied the«daughter. “So he told you, did he?” Mrs. Hunter was all smiles now : the disappointment was all gone from tone and face.

“Yes, my dear Mrs. Hunter.” put in Thursbv; “how'-coufd I keep the joyous fact from mv promised wife longer? I could not, indeed!” Mrs. Hunter gave her daughter such a look of provoked amazement that both the young persons laughed heartily. Presently she joined in the merriment against herself, without knowing why. And when the shadows of Thanksgiving night crept around Merriweather Place, and Will and Bernice had gone for a ride in the moonlight weather, Mrs. Hunter stole softly to 'her room murmuring: “My, what an eventful day this has been, to be sure. I certainly had no thougliTol’' all this. “But lam thankful! O, so thankful!” And the twenty-third psahn trembled on her lips.

Whence the Water of the Great. Lakes?

Chicago Herald, Where do the waters of Lake Michigan come from old-ques-tion, and it is a question as old as tle artesian wells. Where do their waters come from? Col. Foster, an eminent civil enginer, for many years in charge of Government interest on the lake, was fond of talking on the subject. “Every drop of those waters,’’ he was ofter heard to declare, “came from the Rocky Mountains." His theory was that they were brought hero subterraneously, but he never, to our knowledge, marked out the course of the subterraneous stream. He announced this as his conviction long before —indeed, he died before —the sinking of artesian wells in Chicago and the consequent discovery of the now undoubted fact. ”~ William B. Ogden held the same view, and used at times to make himself very interesting in expatiating upon it. With him, as well as with Col. Foster, it was no more than a theory, but he adhered to it “Mr. Cregter,..w.hij'""»3 .sclehitifie be--fnre he-Tsfr pnlitioinH, in wont to tallcapprovingly of the theory iu a manner to convince any man. §gg The phenomenon is the running ou f of this lake through the others of the easterly chain and over Niagara Falls of an incalculable quantity of water, and this con tin ual ly every minute in the hour, every hour ill the day, every day iu the year, and evecy year in progressive time! The lake lias no visible inlets# where, then, does it get its replenishment? From the Rocky Mountains. Through rents and crevices, down into caverns at the roots of these mountains, pour even the waters from melting snow. Four thousand feet they sink to strike a gravity incline that levels with tlieir floor under Chicago. Under this city and elsewhere on the west side of Lake Michigan—this is the proved theory, theory as good as proved—the snow-covered Rocky Mountains are constantly sending their waters to supply flowage and evaporation that is going forward in the watery expanse.

Forbearance Ceased.

Indtanapcl s Journal, - ■ “ See"hero7" yelled the wrathful man as ho took off his hat* and showed a head as bald as a cam paign lie. “ Yes, I see, ” said the druggist. “ Did you ever try my unparalleled capillary renovator ? ” “ That's just what I did," answered tire baldheaded man in tones of wrath, “and here’s the result. " The dt uggist mused a moment* “It works that way sernetitijies, " he said. “The hair grows so fast, you see, that it pulls itself out by the roots. Now. if you will only strengthen your scalp by using a few bottles of mv acmeisticul scalp balm At tUis point they clinched.

All His Fault.

New York Weekly. Mr. Binks (whose invalid wife insists on boarding)—Look here. now. The Medical Record savs nothing will improve a woman's health like sweeping, caking, bediuukitn.'. dish washiug dud scouring the silver." Mrs. Binks —lluh! You know very well never *>»t me ant silver Vo patuA A* • u »Ae- F> *Ufc;

THE FAIR SEX.

Mrs. Huggins, the wife of the Eng tish astronomer, is a most able assistant to her husband In his astronomical, labors, and keeps a record for herself of her observations. Astronomers at the Hick Observatory have been exchanging data of late, and the Lick man has assured Mrs. Huggins that she has accomplished better results with her inferior instruments than he and his assistants achieve with the finest instruments in the world. Although German women have hot as yet succeeded in getting admitted to the German universities, a bright American girl* Mis 3 Gentry, has eoaxed from the surly authorities permission to attend lectures in the Berlin University. This is the first time on record that the favor has been granted to a woman, -;; • . , “BSSool Ton,ET=“3 The exquisite indoor toilet shown in the picture is in pompadour foulard, made princess, The bottom of the skirt has a flounce of the material box pleated and covered with lace

headed by a narrow pleated si’k band with bows set as indicated, they being trimmed with the lace. The bod ice is covered with lace which forms very small basques. There is a draped effect in foulard on the corsage and ribboD braces.

The woman inventor who would derive fame and pelf, and the affections of her g ratefnl coo u try - women as well, should set her wits to work in devising some simple and portable contrivance that would be to the woman's skirt what the man's trousers stretcher is to the man’s gar meats. The tightly fitting skirt, owing to the necessity which the wearer feels of occasionally sitting down, will occasionally get baggy at ihe knees, and as yet no one has keen .bright enough to evolve the skirt stretcher. If this iavention ever materializes it is safe to wager that a man will be Its originator. Tho woman inventor will- concern herself only with more important matters. ,-'—i

A NOVEL WAIST. Tho “Housemaid” waist is a favorite choice for gingham, ebambrey and batiste dresses. It is gathered at the neck and at the waist line, and is made up without a lining, which a Ids much to its possibil corn-fortrand to the”probability of its launUerimr-satisfactorUy. The, pninted belt, cuffs ami. collar at e of open Swiss cm broidery, and the skirt has row of scalloped embroidery la d in between each tuck, so that only the wrought edges are visible. If the gingham is in fine stripes of color the skirt should be bias and cut in the bell order. If plain material is used it is made up

in the usual way, with a gored back, but gathered instead of fitted with darts in front. Other simple gingham gowns have yoke waists, with belts and ru es of embrodery, while for more dresy affairs the mode is stolen from the small boys’ fashion book, and a s uare cornered jacket of gingham reaching not ouite to the wuist line, is worn over fine white waists, gathered to full over and conceal the belt. The cuffs of these waists turn back over the gingham sleeves, und Ihe skrts of the dresses are trimmed with ruffles of embroidery.' There is an utopian country cn the footstool where divorce condtioua are even less exacting than in Chicago and Dclawure. In the Island of Madagascar the dissatisfied hfis - band has only to give his wifea piece of money and to say, “Madam. I thant vou, " in order to be divorced. What a gay place for Mona Caird l: V- -r-js-a

and her followers Madagascar would be!

f - An Exchange for Woman’* Work has been opened by the ladies of the American colony in Paris on the plan of the exchanges in this country. American pies, cakes and other Specialties are provided, a circulating library has been organi ed, and once each week musical matinees are givronuge of the ladies who are interested in the enterprise. < ■ - Old Duke Ltidwig, of Bavaria, is very wretched just, now because the woman for whose love he renounced his rights in the family saccession, and by morganitic marriage placed himself beyond the pale of polite society, is dying of an incurable malady. For thirty-live years the married lovers iuive lived together in delightful sympathy and harmony which has recompensed fully the man wfaorai nee! Ii ! s ~p mspects and bligh t ed his future for the sake of. .possessing the woman of his choice. The Baronoss was previous to her marriage an ordinary coryphee at the Munich Opera House.

A philanthropic Russian lady who. owns several villages has closed all the liquor stores in her towns and established in their places tea houses, where the peasants can buy meat, rolls and all the tea they ean drink for a small sum. On Sundays the lady and her husband soend the afternoon at these tea houses entertaining their peasant guests with extracts from the newspapers or pleasant booksDr. Arabell Ivenealy views the fact that many women must re naiu spinsters by reason of their preponderance in numbers with cheerful e niunimity, for she says; “The increased and increasng surplus of women is forcing,upon us the impossibility of marrying all our daughters, and we are compelled therefore to provide them with professions whereby Lhsy can make provision for themselves, ft fs this swelling of the tide until itr busy over.lowed the do nestic procinets that has carried us out into (lie current of the larger and fuller life. Patti is fairer than ever, now that she has discarded her blond locks for the familiar dusky ones, her admirers say. She has won her suit against the Russian lmptessurio who compelled her to pay the large sum for breach of contract to sing at Moscow and St. Petersburg. And she is on h«r wny for another farewell tour to America in radiant good spirits.

THE VASSAR GIRL.

An Hour's Conversation With Her I'ook th»' Conceit Out of “smitliy." 1 When the boys at our table noticed a strange young lady eater the room the other evening at dinner there was a general in ;uiry as to the newcomers Identity,says a writer in tho New York Herald. She was tall and graceful, with clear cut features, expressive and.a mouth aud chin whose linn tines denoted force of character. Her hair was a light, golden brown, and altogether the young lady excited no smail degree of curiosity. “Tell you what, bo>s.” observed Smithy, “she’s a r eg l l l ar„-kumu»etv-„Yau-wtHTHForWITfcTr yourselves, too, for that's.just about my style, see, and Fin going to make a playlor an ■ in troduce. ” I may mention here that the scene referred to-ocetirred last week in Umdining room of a fashionable private hotel up town. Mr. Smith, popularly known as “ ” is a general favorite among the other there, particularly the lady guests. His’ flislingu is king charaetcristics are good clothes, an exalted opinion of himself, und an elaborate knowledge of slang. Miss Ray, the new guest, was introduced to Smithy that evening. After an hour’s conversation with her Smith retired to the smoking room, and after lighting a cigar, cusnaliy remarked that “ this here’s a queer world, anyhow. ” “ Wlk.t’s the matter, Smithy?" I asked, “you’re uot in love already?’’ “In love! Well, I guess not. Say-;, that girl in the parlor is a regular, walking dictionary. Just tackle her once and she'll paralyze you, that’s all ”,

“ Tell me all about it, ” said I. “ jVVell, it was just-thia way. She asked me if I believed in subliueal consciousness. I told her that I couidn t call that hand and suggested making a jack-pot. But she didu l appear to catch on luff that made me tired. ' “Then she waded in. Wow + but it fairly showered aw breakers for the next half-hour. She's a graduate of Vassar college. she told me, and, so he p me Bob. that was the only part of her conversation I could Understand. “ 'Most people,’ she said, ‘hold ignorance hidden in the interstices of their net of learning.' Then among other tilings she asued mo if I believed that ‘simplicity is tho concomitant of genius,’ and what I thought aoout elective affinities.’ Of course, all i could do was to puss out every band. I told her, though, that I d look these matters up and let her know. But say, I've gut a headache. 11 ha\;e."‘ I “ What did you say when you loft her ?’’ I asked. I “Oh, 1 just remarked that as this ' was a cash game and as I had run out of chips IM see her later when [ l was fixed. Say ; what's the meaning of pachydermatous ? ua.l jee, but i ay head aches.J’ Then Smithy rclapstd into ttaught;ui»«»s.

THE THANKSGIVING TURKEY.

A Hlatory M th* History and Antecedtmts of a Popular Bird. E When, in the month of November, the fields look cold and dreary, and the “incessant rustles from the mournful groves," then comes to us like a burst of sunshine On *; grayday, that unique droat'on of our forefathers—Thanksgiving day. Tue crowning jov of Thanksgiving is the reunion of friends aud at no time is the satisfaction more complete than when, gathered aroud the table, they look with admiring eyes at that autocrat of the dinuer table, the turkey We are not an inquiring race. It is our habit to eat what is set before us, asking no questions. Yet at might be interesting to -ffggw-sometlii ng of the life and history of —let us whisper it confidentially—our favorite bird. Happily it is a native of America, like ail the early natives of the country, bearing a misleading name. Its ancestors are to be sou n d a way in the west beyond the Mississippi and in the far south. In b ranee it has been coolly assigned tolndiaand is called “Poule d’lnde,” wuilethe more accurate Germans, in calling it “KalekutisohoHahn," locate it in Galicuty, on the western shore of India. A historian of turkeys tells us that it was introduced into England during the reign of Henry VIIL AJ that time the wealth of the country was in the hands of the merchants who traded with Turkey and whose ships sailed the Levant. Consequently, anything that was hew and fashionable, whether earpet or fowl, was dubbed Turkey. Would it not be a patriotic deed to give our native favorite a name more worthy of its land?

A TENDER FOWL. Although the wild birtls are hardy the domesticated inhabitants of the barnyard are tender and difficult to rear. They are the perquisites and care of the farmer's wife and daughters. and no one save a farmer’s wife knows the amount of work and watchfulness they entail. Fron the early sprlug time when, with the inherited wildness of her nature, she tries to hide her nest, often causing long hours el wutehing ep seeking lest the eggs should get “chilled," until in the fa’l the brood passes tnto the hands of the buyer, they are a constant anxiety. A turkey hen lays about twenty eggs, choosing a nest on the ground, for she loves moisture. When the eggs are hatched, the lanky, illshapon birds require food as carefully prepared as for some dyspeptic. Lard, eggs, green food, pepper and meal are mixed jmd fed, yet in spite of all the knowledge of poultry lore some will mope and stand with dishevelled feathers, dull eyes and drooping wings, looking the embodiment of misery until death ensues.— They must be carefully housed till the dew is dried by the* sun or the young will die. A sudden rain storm tuk sail members of the family who are interested out to search for the wanderers. They are not home-lov-ing and will disappear for days and weeks, to be found in the woods or swails luxuriating on grasshoppers enemy. thaJoL.,—:— When the grain begins to ripen they find ..their way to the fields and help thea to the farmer's liking, They frequent the orchards, devouring tipplesan 1 strip~plpg grape vines jalilli a rapiditv unequa led by any small boy. and the worst of it all is that all authorities agree that, fruit makes turkeys poor. They strike up friendly relations with neighboring flocks of the same color and size, thereby making confusion unless precaution has been taken to

MARK THE RESPECTIVE FLOCKS, Either by cutting the wings or by breaking off the first joint of the little toe. - - When the final fattening and preparation for market is over the good wife proudly views her treasures with the creamy, solid meat and tho great seam of tat obliterating all truce of the backbone. It is something to be told at the fireside when Ihe great gobbler reaches the mark of thirty pounds or stretches out toward the forties. While in this country the turkey and Thuuksgiving arc almost synonymous, in Canada and in England it is more closely associated with tho festivities of Christmas. Just before tho holidays large cargoes t*ro killed, fro en and then shipped, puked in their own feathers. There the feathers are put to a variety of uses. The large ones plucked from the wings afe used as points for arrows, being much belter for that purpose than those of eagles, so often celebrated in poetry and song. The body feathers are made into the tail feathers are used for making salmon hies.' At one time Frencn ladies shaded their fa.-es with parasols mude by joining four of the tails together. But this is not all. In Italy the gizzard served a peculiar purpose. An Italian physiologist showed that it w„s powerful enough to grind down the points of needles and lancets placed within it; Since then the Italian dealers have used it in preparing seals and ornaments for sale as antiquites from PompeiL They put them down the git;ard of the live fowl and allow them U» rethere until the grinding action of the horny skin has given them tlie dull corroding appearance that time had stamped upon the real articles.

ELIZABETH P. TODD.