Rensselaer Republican, Volume 26, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 July 1894 — Page 2

SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT

But be took the hint-all the same, tod shortened his explanations, and as Bernardiue was genuinely inter gated, he was well satisfied, From time to time he looked at his old camera and at his companion, and from the expression of unease on his it was evident that some contest was going on in his mind. Twice fee stood near his old camera, and turned round to Bernardine intend-, lug to make some remark. Then he changed his mind, and walked abruptly to the other end of the room as though to seek advice from his chemical-bottles. Bernardine mean • while had risen from her chair, and was looking out of the window. “You have a lovely View,” she said. “It must be nice to look at that when you are tired of dissecting J cheesemitos—All the same I think the white scenery gives one a great sense of sadness and..loneliness. " “Why do .you speak always of loneliness?" he asked. “I have been thinking a good deal about it,’' she said. “When I was. strong and Vigorous the idea of loneliness never entered my mind. Now Isee how lonely most people are. If I believed in God as a Personal God, I should be inclined-to think that loneliness were part of his. scheme: so that the soul of man might turn to him and him alone.” The Disagreeable Man was standing by hU-camera again; his decision was made. “Don’t think about those questions.,” be said, kindly. “Don’t worry and fret ton much about the philosophy of life. Leave philosophy alone, and take to photography instead. Here,Tlvill lend you my old camera. ” “Do you mean that?” she asked, glancing at him in astonishment. “Of course I moan it,” he said. He looked remarkably pleased at himself, and Bernardine could not help smiling. He looked just as a child looks when he has given up a toy to another child, and is conscious that he has behaved himself ratber well. “I am very much obliged to you,” sbe said frankly. “I have had a great wish to learn photography.” “I might have lent my camera to you before, mightn't I?” he said thoughtfully. “No,” §be answered, “there was not any reason?’ “No,” he said, with a kind of relief, “there was not any reason. That is quite true. 11 “When will you give me mv first lesson?’’ she asked. “Perhaps, though, you would like to wait’a few days, in case you change your mind.” , “It takes me soaie time to make op my mind.” he replied; “but I do not change 4L- -So T- will give-yon your first lesson tomorrow. Only you must not be impatient. You iftustconsent to be taught; you can not possibly know everything!” Thev fixed a time for the morrow, and Bernardine went off with the camera; and meeting Marie on the staircase, confided to her the piece of good fortune which had befallen her. “See what Herr Allitseq has lent me, Marie!” she said, Marie raised her hands in astonishment. “Who would have thought such a thing of Herr Allitsen?’’ said Marie. ‘‘Why. he does not like lending me a match.” Bernardine laughed and passed on to her room. And the Disagreeable Man meanwhile was cutting a new scientific book which had just come from England. He spent a good deal oftaon-ey on himself. He was soon absorbed In this book, and much interested in *she diagrams. Suddenly he looked up to the cor--ger where the old o-amora had .stoo:I. before Bernardine took it away in triumph. “I hope she won't hurt that camera,” he said, a little uneasily. “I am half sorrv that —■ —” Then a kinder mood took possession of him. “Well, at least it will keep her from fussing and fretting and thinking. Still I hope she won’t hurt it.” CHAPTER XIII. A DOMESTIC SCENE. One afternoon when Mrs. Reffold catne to say good-bye to her husband before going out for the usual sledge <irive, he surprised her by his unwonted manner. “Take your cloak off,” he said, sharply. “You can not gofer your drive this afternoon. You don’t often give up vour time to me; you must do so today.” She was so astonished that she at once laid aside her cloak and hat, and torched the bell. “Why are you ringing?” Mr. Reffold asked testily, “To send a message of excuse,” she answered, with provoking cheerfulness. She scribbled something on a card, and gave it to /he servant who answered the belL “Now,” she said, with great sweetness of manner. And she sat «iowa beside him,drew out her fancywork, and worked at it contentedly. She would have made a charming study df a devoted wife soothing a much loved husband in his hours of sickuess and weariness. “Do you mitid giving up your drive?" he askjki“Notin the (least,” she replied. —I am rather tEjred of sledging.” |

BY BEATRICE HARRADEN.

PART I.— CHAPTER XID- Continued.

“You soon get- tired of things; Winifred,” he said. “Yes, T do.” was the answer. “I am so easily bored. lam quite tired of this place.” “You will have to stay here a little longer,” he said, “and then you will be free to go where you choose. I wish I could die quicker for you. Winfred.” Mrs. Reffold looked up from her embroidery. “You will get better soon.” she said. “You arebetter. ” “Yes. you’ve helped a good deal to make me better,” he said bitterly. “You have been a most unselfish person, haven’t you? You have given me every care and attention, haven’t you?” “You seem to me in a very strange I mood today,” she said, looking puzzled. ' £ i don’t-understand you. ” Mr. Reffold laughed. “Poor Winfred,” he said. ‘‘lf it is ever vour lot to fall ill and Vie neglected, perhaps then you will think of me.” “Neglected?” she said, in surprise. “What do you mean? I thought you had everything you wanted. The nurse brought excellent testij monials. I was careful in the choice of her. You have never complained J before.” I He turned wearily on his side, and ! made no answer. And for some time, there was silence between them. Then he watched her as she bent over her embroidery. “You are very beautiful,Winifred, he said quietly, “but you are a selfish woman. Has it ever struck you that you are selfish?” Mrs. Reffold gave no reply, but she made a resolution to write to he.' particular friend at Cannes and confide to her how very trying her husband had become. “I suppose it is a part of his illness,” she thought meekly. “But it is hard to have to bear it.” And Mrs. Reffold pitied herself profoundly. She stitched sincere pity for herself into that pieee of embroidery. ‘T remember you telling me,” continued Mr. Reffold, “that sick people repelled you. That was when I was strong and vigorous. But since I have been ill I have recalled your words. Boor Winfred: You dfd not think then that you would have an invalid husband on your hands. Well, you were not intended for sick room nursing, and t you have nob tried to be what vou- | were not- intended for. Perhaps 'you. Were right, after all.” “I don’t know why you should be so unkind today, Mrs. Reffold said with pathetic patience. “I can’t understand you, _Y_ou have never spok_en like this before.” —‘.‘.No?.: lies aid, ‘ ‘but I have thought j like this before. All the hours that i you have left me lonely, 1 have been , thinking like this, with my heart full lof bitterness against you, until that : little girl, that Little Brick came ' along.” After that, it was some time be- ' fore he spoke. He was thinking of Little Brick, and of all the pleasant hours he had spent with her, and of the kind, wise words she had spoken to him. an ignorant fellow. She was something like a companion. ' So he went on thin king, and Mrs v Reffold went on embroidermg. She ; was now feeling herself to be almost ; a heroine. It is a very easy . matter to make oneself into a j heroine or martyr. Selfish, neglect- | ful? What did he mean? Oh, it I was just part of his illness. She , must go on bearing her burden as ! she had borne it these many months, j Her rightful position was in a London hall-room. Instead of which j she had to be shut up in ah Alpine ! village;-a. hard, :dQL.,,J[t -was little I enough pleasure she could get. and apparently her husbandgrudged her That. His manner to her this®afternoon was not such as to encourage her to stay in from her drive on another occasion. To-morrow she would go sledging. That flash of light which reveals ourselves had not yet come to Mrs. I Reffold. I She looked at her husband, and l thought from his restfulness that he j had gone to sleep, and she was just I beginning to write to that particular ! friend at Cannes, to tell her' what a trial she was undergoing, when Mr. Reffold called her to his side. “Winifred,” lie said gently, and there was tenderness in his voice, and dove w ritten on his face, “ Winifred, I am sorry if I have been sharp to you. Little Brick says we musn’t, come down like sledge-hammers on each other; and that is what I have been doing this afternoon. Perhaps I have been hard; I am such an illness to myself, that I must be an illness to others too. And you weren’t meant for this sort of thing —Were you? You are a bright, beautiful creature, and I am an unfortunate] dog not to have been able to make voil happier. know I am irritable. I can’t help myself, in- | deed I can’t. This great long fellow was so ' yearning for love and sympathy. | What would it not have been to him if she had gathered him into her arms, and soothed all his irritability and suffering with her love? But she pressed fiis hand, and kissed him lightly on the cheek, and told him that he had been a little sharp, but that sho quite understood, anti that she was not hurt. Her charm of manner gave him some sat-

isfaction; and when Bernardine came in a few minutes later, sbe found Mr. Reffold looking happier and more contented tbau she had ever seen him. Mrs. Reffold, who was relieved at the interruption, received Bernardine warmly, though there was a certain amount of shyness wkickshe had never beetr abie to conquer in Bernardine’s presence. There was something in the younger woman which quelled Mrs. Reffold; it may have been some mental quality, or it may have been her boots! “Little Brick,” said Mr. Reffold, “isn’t it nice to have Winifred here? And I have been so disagreeable and snappish.” “Oh, we won’t say anthing about that now,” said Mrs. Reffold. smiling sweetly. “But I’ve said lam sorry,”he continued. “And one can't do more.” “No,” said Bernardine, who was amused at the notion of Mr. Reffold apologizing to Mrs. Reffold, and of Mrs. Reffold posing as the gracious forgiver, “one can’t do more.” But she could not control her feelings, and she laughed. -“‘You seem rather mcrrynris-aL-ternoon,” Mr. Reffold said, in a reproachful tone of voice. . “Yes.” she said. And she laughed again. Mrs. — Reffold's forgiving graciousness had altogether upset her gravity. “You might at least tell us the joke,” Mrs. Reffold said. Bernardine looked at her hopelessly, and laughed again. “1 have been developing photo-" graphs all the afternoon,” she said, “and I suppose the closeness of the air and th§ badness of my negatives have been too much forme. Anyway, I know L must seem very rude.” She recovered herself after that, and tried hard not to think of Mrs. Reffold as the dispenser of forgiveness, although it was some time before she could look at her hostess without wishing to laugh. The -comers of-hex month twitched, and her brown eyes Twinkled mischievously, and she spoke very rapidly, making fun of her first attempts at photography, ami criticising herself so comically, that both Mr. and Mrs. Reffold were much amused. All the same, Bernardine was relieved when Mrs. Reffold went to fetch some silks, and left her with Mr. Reffold.

“I am very happy this afternoon, Little Brick,” he said to her. “My wife has been, sitting with me. But instead of enjoying the pleasure as I ought to have done, I began to find fault with her. I don't know how long I should not have gone on grutnbling, but that I suddenly recollected what you taught me, that we were not to come down like sledge-hammers on each other’s failings. When I remembered that, it was quite easy to forgive all the neglect and thoughtfulness. Since xefiL have talked to me, Little Brick, everything has become easier to me.” “It is something in your own mind which has worked this,” she said; “your own kind generous mind, and you put it down to my words.” But he shook his head. “If I knew of any unfortunate devil that wanted to ije eased and comforted,” he said, “I should tell him about you, Little Brick. You have been very good to me. You may be clever, but you have never worried my stupid brain with too much scholarship. I’m just an ignorant chap, and you’ve never let me feel it.” He took her hand and raised it reverently to his lips. “I say,” he continued, “tell my wife it made me happy to have her with me this afternoon; then perhaps she will stay in another time. I should like her to know. And she was sweet in her manner, wasn’t she? And, by Jove, she is beautiful ! lam glad you have seen her here today. It must be dull for her with an invalid like me. And I know lam irritable. Go and .tell her that she made me happy—will you?” The little bit of happiness at which the poor fellow .snatched seemed to make him more pathetic—than before. Bernardine promised to tell his wife, and went off to find her, making as an excuse a book which Mrs. Reffold had offered to lend her. "Mrs. Reffold was in her bedroom. She!asked Bernar dine to sit down whilst she searched for the book, She had a very gracious manner when she chose.

“You are looking much better. Miss Holme,” sho said kindly. “I cannot help noticing your face. It looks younger and brighter. The bracing air has done you good.” “Yes, I am better,” Bernardine said, rather astonished that Mrs. Reffold should have noticed her at all “Mr. Allitsen informs me that I shall live, but never be strong. He settles every question of that sort to his own satisfaction, but not always to the satisfaction of other people." “He is a curious person,” Mrs. Reffold said, smiling, “though I must say he is not as gruff as he used to be. You seem to be good friends with him.” She would have liked to say more on this subject, but experience had taught her that Bernardine was not to be trifled with. “I don’t know about being good friends,” Bernardine said, “but I have a great syrrfpathy for him. I know myself what it is to be cut off from work and active life. I have been through a misery. But mine is nothing to his.” She rose to go, but Mrs. Reffold detained her. “Don’t go yet,” she said. “It is pleasant to have you.” She was leaning back in an arm chair, playing with the fringe of an antimacassar. “Oh, how tired I am of this horrid place!” she said suddenly. “Ana

I have had a most wearying afternoon. Mr. Reffold seems to be mor« irritable every day. It is very hard that I should have to bear it.” Bernardine looked at'her in astonishment. “.Yes,” she added, “I am quite worn out. He never used to be so dEHtable. It is all very tiresameu-it is quite telling on my health.” She looked the picture of health. Bernardine gasped, and Mrs. Reffold continued: —— - “His grumbling this afternoon has been incessant; so much so that he himself was ashamed, and asked me to forgive him. You heard him, did you not?” “Yes, I heard him,” Bernardine replied. —— ' “And of course I forgave him at once,” Mrs. Reffold said piously. “Naturally one would do that, but the vexation remains all the same.” “Can these things be?” thought Bernardine to herself. “He spoKe in a most ridiculous wav.” she went on; “it certainly is not encouraging for me to spend another afternoon with him. I shall go si priori no- tomorrow." “You generally do go sledging, don’t you?” Bernardine inquired mMdly. Mrs. Reffold looked at her suspi ciously. She was never quite sure that Bernardiue was not making fun of her. “It is little enough pleasure I dc have.” she added, as though in selfdefense? “And he seems to grudge me that, too.” “I don’t" think he would grudge you anything,” Bernardine said, with some warmth. “He loves you too much for that. You don’t know how much pleasure you give him when you spare him a little of your time. He told me how happy you made him this afternoon. You •could see for yourself that he was happy. Mrs. Reffold. make him happy whilst you still have, him. Don't you understand : that hetspassiiTg a way from- -you — don’t you understand, or is it that you won’t? We all see it, all except you!” She stopped suddenly,surprised at her boldness. Mrs. Reffold was still leaning back in the arm-chair, her hands clasped together above her beautiful head. Her face was pale.' She did not speak. Bernardine waited. The silence was, unbroken save by the merry cries of some children tobogganing in the Kurhaus garden. The stillness grew oppressive, and Bernardine rose. She knew from the effort which those few words cost her, how far removed she was from her old former self. “Good-bye, Mrs. Reffold,” she said nervously. “Gooff-bye, Miss Holme," was the only answer. (TO BE CONTINUED?

Raising Bamboo in Florida.

Cincinnati Enquirer. “Success!ul experiments have been made, in raising bamboo in Florida,” said Abe VVaithen at the Grand-. “There are several patches near Ft, Myers, and the plants are all growing rapidly, sometimes as much as a ffßot=m^sdng’!c—nights- ~ The—impofiT tance of this new industry can not be overestimated. For the building of light summer houses, or for certain classes of furniture, bamboo can not be surpassed. Road vehicles can be made out of it and many other things too numerous to mention. Clothing can be made from its fiber, as can paper, and a portion of it is most excellent as food. It is the only plant known that furnishes 'shelter, clothing and sustenance to mankind, and its introduction here will be of great public benefit.”

A Case of Christian Science.

This gem was received by the publishers of the Northwestern Lancet: “Your copy of the Journal come and the letter to, askiii me to send fifty cons and git it fur a year. I don’t need no jurnal. When I git a tuff case I go off into sum secritplase and tell the lord all about it and wate for him to put inter mv minde what ter do. That-s bottom jurnals and syklopedes afid such. If we had more lord trustin doctors and less colleges weed fare better. The lord noes moron all the doctors, arid if we go to him fur noledge it ill be bettern jurnals. Fraternally in the lord. A Christian Doctor. P. S.— Ive practlst medisen morn fifty veers. Yore kin publish this letter if you want ter."

Better Lawyer than Judge.

CMca?-! Post. If a story told by Richard Prend ergast is true he must be a better lawyer than he is judge. He took a case on one occasion, so the tale runs, that promised well except for one thin it- There was a precedent that was directly against him. ‘•That other case will surely be brought up,” said the client. ‘'Never mind,” replied the exjudge. “I can get around that. It’s a fool decision. Who rendered it?” “You did.” “I did?” “Yes; when you were on thr bench.” “Well, that doesn’t make any difference,” returned the lawyer calmly. “I can beat it anyway.” And he did. He went into the County Court and showed that thf previous decision was not according to law and could not be held to establish a precedent. He was sue cessful In practically overruling his own decision and won the case. Nearls sixteen hundred women were arrested for violation of tin law in Louisville during the last year. Upwards of two thirds of tin number were colored.

“LIGHTS OF THE HAREM”.

They Rap Two American Tonrista Over the Head Wfth Pokers. a While the two Americans, Messrs. Allen and Sachtleben, who made a jicycle tour around the world, were Aradan.Per&ia,a-present from the tillage khan was announced, as they •elate in The Century for July. In itepped two men bearing a huge ;ray filled with melons, apricots, mgar, rock candy, nuts, pistachios, itc., all of which we must, of course, .urn over to the khan-keeper and lis servants, and pay double their . r alue to the bearers, as a present. This polite method of extorticn was followed, the next morning by me of a bolder and more peremptory lature. Notwithstanding the feast jf the night before at our expense, ind in addition to furnishing us with jed-elothes which we really ought to lave been paid to sleep in, our oily lost now insisted upon throe or four prices for his lodgings. We refused so pay him morethdn a certain sum. ind started to vacate the premises. Thereupon he and his grown son jaught hold .of our bicycles. Remonstrances proving of no avail, md being unable to force our passage through the narrow doorway with the bic3 r cles in our hands, wo topped them, and grappled with lur antagonists. A noisy scuffle, ind then a heavy fall ensued, but luckily we were both on the upper dde. —— ’• This unusual disturbance brought jut the inmates of the adjoining inderoom. In a moment there was i din of feminine screams, and a flutter of garments, and then — l crashing of our pith helmets beneath the blows of pokers and and irons. The villagers, thus aroused,: jame at last to our rescue, and at jnce proceeded to patch up a com promise. This, in view of the Amasonian reinforcements, who were standing by in readiness for a seejnd onset, we were more than pleased to accept. From this inglorious combat w.e came off withjut serious injury; but with those gentle poker taps were knocked out forever all the s weet delusions of the “Light of the Harem.”

THE CINCINNATI MUSIC FESTIVAL.

Its Terrific Effect on a Local Scribe. Cincinnati Exchange. A myriad mystic lutes, breathing low and luscious sounds, have made Cincinnati atmosphere their local habitation to lend their unctions aid to the carnival of song. Mingling with the lutes are voices, sweeter than the thrush or nightingale, distilling celestial melody, which floats upon the air like stardust in the ether. When battles are fought the elements are drawn, though tardily, into answering unison, and rip the deathly silence with their energies. So it would seem that tb,e kindlier powers unseen are wooed by earthly manifestations into harmonic accord. and the May Festival is tho inter lessor. And why should not tire Queen of the West participate in the music ot the spheres, when she herself stands on the overtopping pinnacle of this mundane atom of the universe, from which she sends her musical messengers athwart the land? Her people feel the dint of music, and when such a jubilee of art is on they feel a, mounting pride as well, despite the humility of their motives in giving art in its simplicity an impetus. And so the city is stirred from minaret to ifloat, and the heritage of divinity they know is theirs, even though its enjoyment is but transitory.

TO SERVE AT LUNCHEON.

Fruit Jolly Makes a Very Pleasant Change For the Last Course. Philadelphia Record. Cover one box of gelatine with 'r. half-pint of cold water and stand it aside for thirty minutes; then pout over it one pint of boiling water.add one pound of sugar, juice of threi lemons and two oranges; strain. Moisten a ulain mold with cold water; put G the bjttom a layer ol white grapes, pour in a little of the gelatine, strain on ice until the gela tine congeals. Now put a layer of candied cherries, then a layer of sliced bananas, a layer of orange pulp, another layer jf bananas, then a layer of chopped almonds, another layer of grapes, and so continue until the mold is full. Pour over this the remaining quantity of gelatine, which must be perfectly cold, but not stiff. Stand it aside to harden.

A Question of Degree.

Mr. Broadway—Then you are a widow? Mrs. Gay-Wabash—Why do you think so? “You spoke just now of your ‘late husband.’ ” “Oh, you are mistaken; I spoke oi my latest husband.” Matrimony's Weak Point. New York Weekly. She—ls every atom of the human body is renewed every seven years, l ean not same woman that you married. He —I’ve been suspecting that for some time. A grandson of James Russell Lowell is a Harvard graduate of this year. The young man is a son ol Mrs. Edward Burnett, and, by Lowell’s request, when the boy was about to begin his sophomore year i took the name bf his grandfather. I

MIRACLE IN MISSOURI

Ik* Achievements of Medical Science Far More Wonderful than the Magic . of the East. r*»« Eiperlencw of fmtinw tar WooiUoa, of Panama, Mo. —For Ten Year* a Cripple—To-day a Well and Hearty Man. (From the Kansas City Times.! The people of Rich Hill, Mo., an! vicinity have recently been startle J by a seeming miracle of healing. For yeara one of the best-known men in Bates and Vernon Counties has been Mark M. Woodson, now postmaster at Panama, and brother of ex-State 1 nspector of Mines C. C. Woodson, of this city. The people of Rich Hill, where he formerly resided, and oi his present home remember well the bent form; misshapen almost from the semblance of man, which has painfull; bowed its head half to earth and labored snaillike across the walks season after season, and when one day last month it straightened to its full height, threw away the heavy butt of cane which .for years had been it; only support from total - jwiplessaesß. and * wanted ereet.j firmly, unhesitatingly about the two cities, people looked and wondered. The story of the remarkable ease had become the marvel of the two counties; Exactly as Mr. Woodson told it to a Times reporter, it, is here published: “For ten years I have suffered the torments of the damned and have been a useless invalid: to-day i am a well and hearty man, free from, almost evory touch Of pain. I don't, think man ever Buffered more acute and constant agony than I have since ISB4. The rheumatism started then in inyTight knee, and after weeks of suffering in bed I was at last relieved sufficiently to arise, but it was only to get about on crutches for five years, the ailment having settled in the joint. Despite constant t. eatment of too most eminent physicians the rluitmatiqn grew worse, and for the last four years I have been compelled to go about beathalf toward the ground. Ir, the wintor of 1890-91. after the rheumati m had settled into its most chronic form, I brother, and for six weeks I was treated in one of the largest and beff-known dispensaries of that' city, but without the slightest improvement. Before I oamo home I secured a strong galvanic battery; this I used for monttis w.th the same result. In August, 189 ’, I, went to St. Louis, and there* conferred with the widely known Dr. Mudd, ot hospital practice fame, and Dr. Kale, oi tho city hospital; None of them would take my case with any hope of affording me more than temporary relief. and so I came home, weak, doubled with pain, helpless and despondent. “About this time my attention waa called to the account of a remarkable cure of locomotor ataxia, rheumatism and paralysis by Dr. Williams* Fink Pills for Pale People. I orderod some of the pills as an experiment. When 1 began to take them, the rheumatism had developed into a phase of paralysis: my leg, from tho thigh down, was cold all the time and could not be kept warm. In a short time the pills were gone, and so was the cane. I was able to attend to the duties of my office, to get about as a well and strong man, I was free from pain and I could enjoy a sound and' restful night's sleep, something I had not known for ten years. To-day am! practically and, I firmly believe; per-; manently cured of my terrible and agonizing ailment. !so magician of the Far East ever wrought tho miracle witlr his wand that Dr. Williams’ Pink Pill did for mo." To verify the story beyond all question of doubt, Mr. Woodson made the following affidavit: « State of Missouri, \ County of Bates, \ M ** I, M. M. Woodson, being duly sworn, on my oath state that the following statements are true and correct, as I verily believe. M. M.- Woodson. ( Subscribed and sworn to before me) this 3d day of March, 1894. Jobn'D. Moore, Notary Public. I Dr. Williams’ Pink Pill’s for Pale) People are manufactured by the Drj Williams Medicine Company, Schenectady, N. Y., and are sold only in boxes be .ring the firm’s trade mark and wrapper, a 4.50 cents a box, or aik boxes for *2.00. Bear in mind that Dr.j Williams' Pink Pills are never sold in bulk or by the dozen or hundred, and any dealer who offers substitutes ini this form is trying to defraud you and should be avoided. Dr. WilTams’Pink Pills may bo had of all druggists or dir* ■rect by mail from Dr. Williams’ ModP cine Company.* ——,--

A WATER TELESCOPE.

How the Simple Instrument -May Be Constructed. The water telescope miy be made of wood or of tin, whichever you prefer, and we will describe both. The tin is better, because it is lighter and more easily handled. Its manufacture is very simple. Get a tinsmith to make for you a funnel shaped tin horn about three feet long. It should be eight or ten inches in diameter at the bottom and brand enough at tho top for both eyes to look into. Into the bottom put a piece of glass, cut to fit, and make it perfectly water-tight The inside should be painted black to prevent tho reflection of the light upon the surfuce of the tin. Around the outside of tho bottom soldei on several sinkers to offset the buoyancy of the air in the water-tight horn and make it easier to submerge. If it is not convenient to get a round piece of glass, have the large end made square and use squnro glass. That’s all there is of it, and when you sink your instrument down into the water ana put your ayes at the small end you will be perfectly astonished at the plainness with which you will see all kinds of fish and v/atoi* animals swimming around in a state of nature.

The Theorist.

Bobby—Your mother hit you only once for breaking the window. I wish my mother wouldn’t hit me more than that. Little Johnnie—That’s ’cause yoc don’t holler loud enough.—New York Sun.