Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 January 1875 — Page 3

RENSSELAER UNION* JASES * HEALET, Proprietors. RENSSELAER, - INDIANA.

MONTE CASSINO. BY HHNBY W. LONGFELLOW. Beautiful valley, through whose verdant meads Unheard the Garigliano'glides along— The Liris, aurse of rushes and of reeds,. The river taciturn of classic song! The Land of Labor, and the Land of Rest, Where mediaeval towns are white on all The hill-sides, and where every mountain crest Is an Etrurian or a Roman wall! There is Alagna, where Pope Boniface Was dragged with contumely from his throne, - Sciarra Colonna, was that day’s disgrace The Pontiff’s only, or in part thine own ? There is Ceprano, where a renegade Was each Apulian, as great Dante saith, When Manfred, by his men-at-arms betrayed, Spurred on to Benevento and to death. There is Aquinum, the old Volscian town Where Juvenal was born, whose lurid light Still hovers o’er his birthplace like the crown Of splendor over cities seen at night. Doubled the splendor is, that in its streets The Angelic Doctor as a school-boy played, And dreamted perhaps the dreams that he repeats In ponderous folios for scholastics made. And-there, uplifted like a passing cloud That pauses on a mountain summit high, Monte Cassino’s convent rears its proud And venerable walls against the sky. Well I remember how on foot I climbed The stony pathway leading to its gate: Above, the convent bells for vespers chimed; Below, the darkening town grew desolate. , Well I remember the low arch and dark, The court-yard with its well, the terrace wide, From which, far down, diminished to a park, The valley veiled in mist was dim described. The day was dying, and with feeble hands Caressed the mountain-tops; the vales between Darkened; the river in the meadow-lands Sheathed itself as a sword and was not seen. The silence of the place was like a sleep, So full of rest it seemed; each passing tread Was a reverberation from the deep Recesses of the ages that are dead. For more than thirteen centuries ago Benedict, fleeing from the gates of Rome, A youth disgusted with its vice and woe, souirht in those mountain solitudes a home. He founded here his Convent and his Rule Of prayer and work, and counted work as prayer. His pen became a clarion, and his school Flamed like a beacon in the midnight air. * * ***** Upon such themes as these with one young friar I sat conversing late into the night, Till in its cavernous chimney the wood ike Had burnt its heart out like an anchorite. And then translated, in my convent cell, Myself yet not myself, in dreams I lay; And, as a monk who hears the matln-bell, Started from sleep —already it was day. From the high window I beheld the scene On which saint Benedict so oft had gazed; The mountains and the valley in the sheen Of the bright sun, and stood as one amazed. Gray mists were rolling, rising, vanishing; The woodlands glistened with their jeweled ' crowns; Far off the mellow lieiis hegan to ring For matins in tho half-awakened towns. The conflict of the Present and the. Past, The ideal and the actual in our life, As on a field of battle held me fast, Where this world and the next world were at strife. For, as the valley from its sleep awoke, I saw the iron horses of the steam Toss to tho morning air their plumes of smoke, And woke as one awakethfrom a dream. —Atlantic Monthly.

BLIFINCH’S WEDDING.

RaoGfei), saturnine and cynical as to appearance; crabbed, miserly and reticent as to disposition; such was Blifinch & Co., general merchandise brokers and provision dealers. For Blifinch was Blifinch, and Company also; the latter attachment of the firm being purely fictitious, and designed possibly for euphony—perhaps to give distinction to the firm title. Blifinch dwelt in a ram-shackle, tum-ble-down old rookery in Pearl street, an establishment which had come to him strictly in the way of business, having fallen into his clutches through the foreclosure of a mortgage, by which process an estimable but impecunious family were summarily ejected into the street one raw November afternoon, from which period they vanished out of man’s cognizance. • As there could be found no tenant for the rookery Blifinch moved into it himself, being enabled thereby to lease his former dwelling-place, in a more agreeable location, to excellent advantage. Blifinch was “as universally disliked and contemned as it is possible for a man to be. His hardness at driving a bargain, his w r ant of charity—either for frailty or misfortune—his absolute disregard for the customary amehifies’df life; these peculiarities caused him to be shunned by all who were not driven to intercourse with him through business exigencies. Of these latter, however, there were very many, and his line of trade was so successful in its competition with the rest of the business world that Blifinch had amassed no inconsiderable amount of property, which was securely invested in the best possible securities at profitable interest. There was, however, in regard to Blifinch one single redeeming feature: he had a daughter—Polly Blifinch—whose characteristics were in such marked contrast to those of her father that they shed a halo of reflected brightness and beauty over the latter which made even the surly meanness of Blifinch seem less obnoxious when she was by. Polly was by-this time twenty years old, and as sweetly-pretty a girl’ as one would wish to see. Her charms of disposition seemed to have given a special loveliness to her every expression, and her amiability and kindliness went far in the estimate of those who knew both to atone for the rugged and unhandsome' protuberances of character which caused Blifinch to be so disliked. Of course Polly had many admirers; for, though she was not permitted to see any oompany whatever under the inhospitable roof which covered her gloomy habitation, there were still ways and , means innumerable by which she could fenn companionships, and through which these could, grow into affectionate interests. But though many pleasing and wholly unobjectionable young men sought Polly from time to time with a dfrect view to matrimonial results, these

been invariably unsuccessful until a period about one year prior to the date of the present narrative. At that time Polly had made the acquaintance of a young sailor, then mate of a merchant vessel trading with the West Indies, and who was the brother of one of Polly’s special friends. Constant association with this mariner when he was on shore, and as constantly listening to his praises when he was at sea, had at last their natural effects; and when Sam Collier proposed, just before sailing on one of his voyages, Polly \consented to be his wife before she had given Blifinch’s probable reception of the matter a single thought. When, after the first transports of the position had subsided, she djd reflect upon her father’s interest in the important question, her spirits went down with startling rapidity. Indeed, about five minutes of practical consideration of the subject resulted in her conveying to her lover, with many sobs and tears, the unqualified certainty that Blifinch would no more let them marry than he would present his son-in-law presumptive with a new ship. Young Collier was of a sanguine temperament, however, had a very good opinion of himself, and had never seen old Blifinch; so, of course, he had no doubts on the subject, and insisted on proceeding at once to communicate with the ‘“Captain,” as he brevetted Polly’s father in his reference to him. Polly consented finally, as the shortest -way.ol. surmounting the difficulty; and that same evening Sam Collier made his appearance at the rookery, and, being introduced t® Blifinch by his daughter, then and there, and in the most seamanlike language, proceeded to demand Polly’s hand as an accompaniment for her heart, of which he claimed present possession. Blifinch heard him through quietly, and then, turning to his daughter, said: “ Polly, is all this true that this young man has been saying?” “Yes, father.” “And you want to marry him, do you?” ’ “ If you please, father.” Blifinch meditated for about two minutes turning to Collier, he said: “You are mate of a ship, you tell me, young man?” “ Yes, sir,” replied Collier, patterning his replies after Polly’s laconic style. “ How would you like to be Captain of a ship?” said Blifinch. “Very much,” replied the sailor. “Very well,” continued Blifinch, returning as he spoke to some papers he had been examining when he was interrupted. “ Come to my store to-morrow at noon, I will get you the appointment of Captain of a ship in whicb I am interested; she sails next week for Callao. If you make a good voyage on her, you can "marry my daughter—when you come back. Good-night!” Polly turned pale and staggered visibly ; Sam Collier’s face brightened, and seizing Blifinch by the hand he thanked him effusively and the two left the room together. Sailorlike, Sam thought nothing of an extra voyage, and was fairly choked up with delight at his new dignity. Polly, on the contrary, foreboded all sorts of evil; and when a week later Sam sailed as Captain of the bark Polly (newly christened) she surrendered herself to the gloomiest anticipations. These would probably not have been lessened had she heard a remark made by Blifinch as the bark left her moorings. He was standing on the dock beside Polly, and as he waved his hand for the last time to Capt., Collier he said —under his breath: — “ Yes, you can marry my daughter—when you come back!" Four months passed—five, six—and the Polly put in no appearance; nor was there word of her nor of Capt. Samuel (jollier, her commander. The bark was an old vessel which had barely escaped condemnation after her previous voyage by a promise on the part of her owners that she should be thoroughly overhauled and refitted. She had certainly been cobbled up in a way and had received a third-class rating; she had likewise been heavily insured with an extra-hazardous premium; and when seven and eight months had elapsed and no tidings were heard of her Blifinch did not seem to see the matter in that light. That Polly should grow pale and careworn, refuse sustenance, and mope herself almost to death generally was no matter of surprise to those who observed the phenomenon; but that Blifinch, who was supposed to have no more heart than one of his own firkins of lard, should turn dejected and nervous, haunt the Exchange for tidings of his ship, sleep restlessly at night, and toss and mutter with bad dreams, as Polly averred he did—that this condition should oppress the hard-headed man of business was curious indeed. Perhaps had those who interested themselves in Blifinch’s condition of mind seen him one afternoon about a year from the date of the Polly's departure from New York, and after the insurance had been duly paid over, and Capt. Sam Collier mourned as dead by his many friends, and by the one good girl who loved him and was dying for him —had Blifinch been seen on this occasion, new light would have been thrown upon his untoward behavior. For, sitting at his desk, With his head bowed upon his hands, which clutched his tangled gray hair miserably, the old man moaned such phrases as these: “ I did it! I killed him! 1 — killed both of them, God forgive me! I’m ruined now and damned for hereafter! Poor Polly!” — and here Blifinch broke down and wept. There was a tap at his door, and a clerk announced a visitor —a seafaring man, he said, and Blifinch cursed him and told him to show the gentleman up, which he did. That evening Blifinch came to Polly, as she sat by a dim tire in the sittingroom, brooding over her sorrow, and called her: “ Polly.” “ Yes, father,” she said, quietly. . “ I want you to come to my wedding to-morrow.” “ Your wedding, father!” - “I said so; why should not I have a wedding? J Is there to be no more marrying or giving in marriage because an infernal, rotten old bark goes to the bottom?" * “ But this is so sudden, father,” said Polly, gently. “ How do you know it is sudden?” said Blifinch, savagely. “ You just' do as I tell you and don’t make remarks! I want you to go to my wedding at ten o’clock to-morrow. Dress up in your best and I will take you. It is to be at the chapel on the dock; do you hear?” “ Yes, father," said poor Polly. “ I hear, and I will be ready.” Blifinch went to bed, and Polly,to weeping, as was her nightly custom. But at half-past nine the next morning she was

ready to accompany her father, and the two walked arm-in-arm -to the little Mission Chapel on the dock, not far from the house. As they entered the door of the chapel Polly was met by a man who stood just inside and who suddenly clasped her in his arms, revealing Capt. Sam Collier in person. There was displayed weeping, congratulations, smiles and other evidences of feeling of various kinds. There were introductions to a respectable and amiable-looking clergyman, and there was a wedding. „ , And when Polly, after being duly married to Capt. Sam Collier aforesaid, asked her father about “ his wedding,” Blifinch replied: “ Isn’t this my wedding? Isn’t it my daughter and my son-in-law, and aren’t they going to have my money? My wedding!—l should say so, rather." And so it never came out that Blifinch had privately hired a man to scuttle the bark Polly, and that he had failed to do it because she sprung a leak off Cape Horn and sunk without his assistance. Sam Collier was taken off with the rest by an English ship bound to Liverpool; got wrecked again; was carried half round the world, while his communications failed to connect—and all that time Polly was dying of love and disappointment, and her father of remorse. Blifinch became a changed man ever thereafter, and as charitable and lenient as he had before been hard-hearted and miserly—alterations which the neighbors always attributed facetiously to that extraordinary subterfuge known as “ Blifinch’s Wedding.”

The Japanese Minister’s Wife.

The Washington correspondent of the Chicago Tribune writes: “ The Japanese Minister has brought with him his wife and intends giving fine entertainments here this winter. He says the Japanese Embassy has hitherto made itself very inconspicuous and he intends raising it out of the depths of humanity into which it has fallen. His wife is the tiniest piece of womanhood in existence outside of the Liiiputian kingdom, perhaps, measuring only four feet eight or nine inches. Her face is not pretty at all but her figure is round and symmetrical and her hands and feet are marvels of littleness. She attended the reception given King Kalakaua, in the costume worn in her country by a lady of rank, and of course the petite lady was gazed on and stared at and talked at till she felt anything but comfortable. Her husband is desirous that she should be clothed like les belles Americaines, and has engaged a modiste, Mme. Soule by name, to manufacture an outfit for his lady, fashionable and becoming. The madame speaks only Japanese and declares she cannot and will not learn English, whereupon her husband, understanding woman nature sufficiently not to urge the point at present, receives her guests with all the affability imaginable, ’speaking English with ease, while his wife smiles and nods, and snuggles up to the ladies in the most confidential ami-imploring manner. One day her husband came rushing down into the parlor in the most excited manner, holding the unfinished waist of one of his wife’s dresses aloft over his head. Running to one of the ladies present, he exclaimed: ‘See! the dresswoman has spoiled this waist. See! she has cut these crooked lines into it *• (pointing to the ■ darts). * Come up, please, and tell her what to do. She is cutting everything into ribbons; and all because we are strangers, and know no better.’ The lady comforted him by telling him that the * crooked lines’ were necessary to the proper fit of the waist, and the ribbons were to be transfigured into beautiful flounces, and that the dressmaker was very reliable, and knew what she was about. What will the little lady do when all the mysteries of a civilized woman’s toilet are displayed to her astonished vision?”

Guns Discharged Without Caps.

It seems almost impossible that a gun should be discharged without the presence of either cap or flint; yet a wellauthenticated case of the kind seems to have occurred, recently, near Napa, as narrated by the Register, of that place. It seems that Benjamin Bergrin, being out with some companions duck-shooting, had just fired one barrel, and hearing the shot loose in the other turned up the gun into his left hand to take out the charge, taking the precaution to first remove the cap. Notwithstanding the absence of the cap, the gun went off and made a bad wound in his left hand. It seems almost incredible that a gun could be discharged after the cap is removed, but the phenomena is accounted for by experts on the hypothesis that the percussive quality of the cap had—the weather being damp—adhered to the nipple of the gun and been sufficient to explode it on being jarred, incident to shaking the charge out, the hammer being down. That this theory is a correct one is confirmed by a similar accident which occurred a few days previous to one of the Asylum apprentices who had been shooting, and having both charges left in his gun thought to save them by leaving them in till next day, when he would go out again. To this end he removed both caps, let one hammer down carefuljy and was lowering the other, when it slipped from his thumb on to the nipple and discharged the barrel. The othej- barrel went off at the same instant, as is supposed, by the shock of the first one, both discharging their contents up through the roof. The youth had a narrow escape, and the two accidents confirm'the theory of the total depravity of guns, “ dangerous without either lock, stock or barrel, because a man once whipped his wife to death with a ramrod.’’.— Pacific Rural Press.

The Beginning of the Year.

It was a curious circumstance, with which our readers may not all be-famil-iar, that originally determined that the beginning of the year should be the Ist of Januarylt seems odd to begin the year m mid-winter, especially as there is nothing in the heavens or on the earth to mark that as a natural point to reckon from. The solstices and equinoxes, as open to observation and as periodically recurring, were noticed and marked with more or less accuracy even in the earliest times; and, accordingly, most of*the Oriental nations began their year at the autumnal equinox, as the Jews also did as to their civil year, though their ecclesiastical year they dated from the vernal equinox; the Mexicans too began their year at the vernal equinox. All the ancient northern nations of Europe and, the Peruvians of South America commenced the year with the winter solstice, and so did the early Greeks and Romans; the Greeks, however, subsequently changed

to the summer solstice, and the Romans, under a military exigency to be mentioned in a moment, adopted, in the year 153 B. C., an ordinance which thereafter marked for them, and still marks for us, an artificial time for New Year’s, In that year there was a serious revolt against the dominion of Rome within the so-callpd Spanish provinces. Th 3 Lusitanians, ancestors of the present Portuguese, and the Vettones, a tribe of Central Spain,'making common cause together, defeated two Roman Governors, marched at will over the peninsula and pillaged even in the neighborhood of (the Roman capital in Spain, now Cartagena. The Romans at home took these events so seriously as to resolve on sending a consul to Spain, a step that had not before been deemed necessary for more than forty years; and, in order to hasten the departure of the military, they even decreed that the consuls for the year should enter office two months and a half before the legal time. The consuls were always elected in the fall, at the close of the military year, but the day for entering upon office had long been the 15th of March, near the vernal equinox, the time when military campaigns were wont to begin; but at this time and for this reason the day for entering upon office was shifted from the 15th of March to the Ist of January, and thus was accidentally established, as it were, the beginning of the year which we still make use of "at the present day. Julius Cfesar long afterward reformed the calendar in very essential respects, but he did not disturb the beginning of the year, which remained for the Romans, and consequently for all nations and all ages, where the exigencies of a Spanish revolt had once placed it a century and a half before Christ.— N. Y. Evening Post.

An Irish Legend.

A writer, speaking of the Castle of Howth, near Dublin, says: “The steps to the front door are very grand, extending across the whole front of the building. The wings are covered with ivy. The main entrance used to be left open during the dinner hour until a very recent date. The origin of the custom is thus related: About 300 years ago there lived in the west of Ireland a celebrated female chieftain named Grace O’Malley, of Grana Wile. She owned a vast territory and had castles to defend it, and ships and men. So renowned was she that Queen Elizabeth invited her to her court, whither she went, accompanied by a large retinue; where she doubtless was feasted in accordance with her rank. On her return she was forced to land on the east coast of Ireland to procure provisions, which had fallen short. It happened that she landed at Howth, and, walking up to the castle, made known her wants. The servants refused to comply with her wishes at once, telling her she must wait because the family were at dinner. Indignant at such treatment, she returned to the shore to re-em-bark. There she saw a little boy playing. ‘Whose child is this?’ ‘lt is the sen of the lord of the castle,’ was the reply. Thereupon she ordered him to be seized and carried on board her vessel, and aw-ay she sailed to her home in the West. Here the young Prince was kept a prisoner for some time, but finally Grana yielded to the petition of the father and released the’ boy, on condition that ever after the door should stand open during dinner, to welcome all comers.”

Housekeeping vs. Boarding.

Is it better to keen house or board? is a question which is raised every day in society. Let anyone consider the facts, and judge accordingly. In keeping house one’s actual expenses are possibly a fourth greater than when boarding. This’ difference in expenditure, however, is balanced by the pleasure and incalculable benefits connected with housekeeping. There is, in the first place, privacy and quiet. One avoids i the scrutiny of scandal-mongers and the gaze of gossips. The wife escapes the contaminating influences of boardinghouse surroundings, and finds pleasant occupation in daily house superintendence. This is a source both of physical, and moral health. The result is energy rather than ennui, and a lively interest in other things than the petty trifles which would otherwise absorb the attention. The home is permanent, and hence becomes a basis for accumulating for the future. The boarding-house is a wayside stopping-place, and leads to unrest and waste of energy. The very aspect of the two places shows their vital difference, and is in favor of the home. In conclusion, housekeeping, with all its trials and discomforts, is infinitely superior to boarding, and the difference in the cost is not to be considered in comparison with the difference in benefits. — The Housekeeper.

Deaths From Lamp Explosions.

There are so many circumstances under which accidents, more or less severe and often fatal, occur from lamp explosions, tliat people cannot be too studious in informing themselves with regard to such accidents or too careful in seeking to avoid them,. But a few days since the following case occurred at the house of a friend on Perry street, in this city: A gentleman entered a room late at night in which a kerosene lamp had been burning low through the evening, stepped toward it and was in the act of extending his hand to turn it down and out; but just before his lingers reached thethumbscrew the lamp exploded with a loud report which sent it in fragments to every part of the room. Fortunately there was no fire set- and no person injured. The next morning a careful examination of the fragments to learn the cause of the explosion led to the theory that the tube, which was rather a large one, had been fitted with a very small wick, thus leaving a large air space by means of which, in all probability, the movement of the air in the room caused by the opening of the door forced the small, flickering flame down into the tube far enough to communicate with and explode the gas which would naturally, under the circumstances, have accumulated therein. In this connection it may be interesting, as w’ell as useful, to call to mind the fact that Prof. Chandler, Of New York city, says: “The total result for the year 1869, for the oity of New York, which I myself have cut from newspapers, is fifty-two fatal accidents from dangerous kerosene, fifty severe and six slight—in all 108 persons, to my knowledge, from my own reading, have been injured by kerosene in one year.”— Pacific Rural Prett.• ... A little girl, upon her return from a children’s party being asked if she had a good time, replied: “Yes; but there hasn’t much boys there.”

Our Young Folks. SO SORRY. BY HELEN M. COOKE. My blue-eyed brother lies asleep; How very sweet his'rest! Tis strange those restless fingers keep So still upon his breast! They used to tumble up my hair That mother curled so nice, And tof-s my playthings everywhere, And break them in a trice. One day he pulled my earrings out—- —..—. Those pretty golden rings That dear eld grandmamma had bought Among my Christmas things; He hurt my ear; it ached and burned, And I was angry, too, And quick as wink on him I turned Ana gave him one sharp blow! ,But had I only known it then, How very soon he’d die, I should have borne the stinging pain Nor made dear brother cry. Oh, how I wish that he could know My sorrow and my shame For that most wicked, naughty blow, For which I was to blame. Now precious little boys and girls With babies in your homes, Just let them rumple up your curls And pull out rings and combs, And toss your playthings out of place, And break them if they will, And bear it all with tender grace ? And sweet good nature still. Then if they lie so dead and white, No smile upon their lips, Their sunny eyes shut out from light, No warmth in finger-tips, And they have gone to come no more To your embrace again— It will be sweet to whisper o’er, “ We never gave them pain!”

LIGHTNING IN JOHNNY’S HAIR.

BY ADAM STWIN.

“ Combs can’t blow, can they?’ Could you guess what Johnny meant by such a queer, backhanded question? I couldn’t, nor his sister Mary either. I was quite sure, however, that he meant something sensible if one could only get at it; but Mary was doubtful. “Blow what?” she asked, not so pleasantly as she might. “ Why, blow air,” said Johnny, “to make wind." “Of course not, you silly child; what makes you ask such a question as that?” Mary thinks Johnny is a pretty bright little fellow in general, but on particular points she is always ready to call him a dunce without stopping first to find out what he really means to say. The trouble is, she knows so little herself that she thinks she knows everything, at least everything worth knowing; and Johnny is all the time puzzling her with questions that she has no answer ready for. “What have you seen to make you ask that question?” I inquired. “ I didn’t see anything, ’’ said Johnny; “ I just felt it —like some one breathing softly on my face and hand when I held my comb near." “Nonsense,” said Mary; “you just imagined it." “No, I didn’t,” Johnny insisted;**! felt it really this morning when I was combing my hair.” “ Oh,” said I, suspecting the cause of his difficulty; what kind of a comb was it?” “ A black comb,” said Johnny. “ Horn or rubber?” I asked. “ It’s a rubber comb,” said Mary. “ How did your hair behave when vou were combing it?” “ Mean as anything,” Johnny replied. “It stuck up like Mary’s when its frizzled, and wouldn’t stay anywhere.” Part of that was for Mary’s benefit. Johnny likes to tease her. “ Did you think the comb made it do that by blowing it?” I asked. “Not at first,” said Johnny; “the comb seemed to crackle, and I put it to my ear to listen; then I felt the wind on my cheek.” “ Suppose you bring the comb here,” said I, “ and show us what it did.” Johnny ran off' for the comb, but came back quite crestfallen. “It won’t do it now,” he said. “As much as ever!” cried Mary, triumphantly. “But it did this morning, truly," he said, rather humbly. “Pshaw!” said Mary; “you imagined Like another discoverer Johnny had to learn whatsit is to be discredited and ridiculed for knowing too much. Because Mary had never noticed what he described, she was as ready as older people to cry “nonsense,” “impossible,” and all that sort, of thing, without stopping to consider whether he might not be in the right after all.” “You had better try it again some other day,” I said to Johnny. “Try different combs. Try in the dark, too.” “ What for?” Johnny asked. “ You might see something)” I said. “ In the dark?” “ Yes, in the dark.” Johnny wondered how; that could be; and he wondered still more when I suggested that it might be a good plan to try the comb also on Humpty Dumpty—that’s his shaggy dog. Two or three mornings .after Johnny came pounding at my door breakfast; when I let. him in he cried: “It blows now, sure!" “What blows?!’ . “Why! the comb.” I took the comb from his hand apd putting it to my cheek said, “ I don’t feel any wind from it.” * “ That isn’t the way,” he said, reaching out for the comb. “"You must do this first,” and he ran the comb rapidly through his hair a few times, then held it to his cheek, saying, “ I can feel it, plainly.” “ See if it will blow these,” I said, stripping some bits of down from a feather and laying them upon the table. Johnny repeated the combing, then held the comb near the down, expecting to she the light stuff blown from the table. To his great surprise it was not blown away at all, but on the contrary it sprang suddenly toward the comb, then dropped off as suddenly. “That’s queer,” said Johnny. I excited the comb again and held it near the back of my hand, calling Johnny’s attention to the fact that all the fine hairs stood up when the comb came near them. “ When you hold the comb near your cheek,” I said. “ the downy hairs stand up like that, and the feeling is just like that of a breath of air.” “ Then it isn’t wind that comes from the comb?” ’ “ No, it’is not wind.” “Maybe the comb is a magnet,” suggested Johnny, seeing its attraction for light hairs, dust and the like, as I held it over them. I took a small magnet from my table-drawer and held it near the

feathers and hair. It did not stir them, no matter how much I nibbed it. It picked up a needle, though, very quickly. 'Then I rubbed the comb, and though it attracted the feathers it had no effect on the needle. “ la that like a magnet?” I asked. “ No,” said Johnny. “ When the needle springs to the magnet it sticks there; but when the hair or down springs to the comb it flies away again instantly.” “ It is very queer,” said Johnny. “ Try this horn comb,” said I. Johnny tried it; but comb his hair as much as he might the horn would not draw anything. Then he tried a shell comb, and an ivory comb, neither of them acting as the rubber comb did. “I don’t understand it at aH,” said Johnny. “ Nobody does fully,” said I; “but if you keep trying you may learn a good deal about it in time.” Then we went to breakfast. It was several days before the subject was brought up again. “ I’ve been watching a long time,” said Johnny that evening. “I began to think it would never happen again, but it’s first rate to-day.” “ Have you found out anything new?” I asked. “ Not much,” said Johnny. “ I tried Humpty and the comb crackled like everything. What makes it do that?” “ I think we’ll have to study that to-night,” I replied. “Where’s Humpty?” “In the kitchen. Shall I call him?” “If ydu pussy, too." Johnny was soon back with Humpty and Nebuchadnezzar -that’s pussy. We call him Neb, for short. Then we went into the library and put out the lights. “ How can we see what the comb does?” Johnny asked. “Some things can be seen in the dark,” I replied. Then I drew the comb briskly through Johnny’s hair, making it snap and sparkle beautifully. “See,” I said, bringing the teeth of the comb opposite my knuckle, “this is what makes the snapping.” “ How pretty?” Johnny cried, as the tiny sparks flew from the comb to my knuckle. “ What is it ?” “Lightning,” said I. “ Lightning! In my hair?” “ Certainly,” I said. “ Let me comb out some more.” John was almost afraid of himself when I brought another lot of sparks from his head. “ Folks had better look out when I’m around,” said the little fellow, pompously. “ Mary says I make more noise than a thunder-storm sometimes; I guess it’s the lightning in me. Somebody’ll get hit yet.” “ Not very severely, let us hope,” said I, laughing. “Suppose we try Humpty. Maybe he’s a lightning-bug, too.” Sure enough, when we passed the comb through his shaggy coat the sparks flew finely. So they did when we rubbed him with the hand. “Let's try Neb,” said Johnny; “here he is under the sofa; I can see his eyes.” But Neb had no notion of being rubbed the wrong way. As soon as the sparks began to show his patience gave out, and he went off with a rush. “ I guess Neb’s lightning goes to his eyes and his claws,” said Johnny. After that we tried the sheepskin fug, Mary’s muff and several other things of the sort, getting sparks from all of them. “ Everything seems to have lightning in it," said Johnny. “Apparently,” said I, “ but you can’t make it show in everything alike; any way, not by rubbing. Trv the chairback, the table, the sofa ana such things. Generally when two things are rubbed together the lightning—or electricity,. as it is commonly called—escapes quickly. When it can’t do that it accumulates—as it does in the rubber comb—and goes off with a snap when it gets a chance. When a cloud contains more electricity than it can hold some of it jumps to another cloud or to the earth,, making a flash of lightning. The thunder is its prodigious snap and the echoes of it. Are your slippers quite dry?” “ I think so,” said Johnny, wondering what that had to do with lightning. “ I think the furnace has been on long enough to make the carpet quite dry. too,” I said, turning just a glimmer of light on. “If it is you can make a little thunder-storm of yourself easily.” “ How?” Johnny asked eagerly. “Just skip around the room a few times without taking your feet from the carpet.” Johnny spun round like a water-beetle for a minute or two; then I stopped him and told him to reach out his fore-finger. When he did so, I reached my fore-finger to his and, as the points came together, snap! went a spark between them, whereat Johnny cried “ Oh!” and put his finger to his mouth. “Did it burn you?” “ No,” said Johnny, “ but it scared me.” He was not so badly scared, however, but he wanted to try it again and again, while I turned up the light and went on with my reading. By and by Humpty came out from under the sofa to see what was going on, and Johnny sent a spark into hi s nose. It didn’t hurt him any, though it surprised him not a little'. “ Wouldn’t it be fun,” said Johnny, “ to give Mary a shock?" __ “ Charge yourself again,” I said, “ then come to me with'your hands down.” Johnny did as I bade him, whoreupon I stooped and kissed him on the mouth. , It was his turn to be surprised that time. Just then Mary came to tell the young lightning-catcher that it was time to go to bed. “All right,” said the little rogue, cheerily, skipping about the room. “ Kiss me good-night, Mary, but don’t touch me with your hands,” he said, at last, demurely holding up his mischievous mouth. Mary gave the kiss, and got in return what she didn’t expect. “ You little rascal,” she cried, ** you’ve got a pin in your mouth.” ** No, I haven’t,” he said. “ It’s a piece of rubber, then.” * “ No, it isn’t rubber." ** What was it?” “Lightning,” said Johnny. “See!” < and he skipped a few times across the floor, then gave her a spark from his finger. Then he ran off to bed, laughing at Mary’s bewilderment.— Christian Union “ Y’ou have 'a pleasant home and a blight fireside, with happy children sitting around it, haven’t you?" said the Judge. “ Yes, sir,” said Mr. Thompson, who thought ke saw a way Out of the difficulty. “Well,” said the Judge, “if the happy children sit around the cheer- . ful .fireside until you return, they will stay there just forty-three days, as I will have to bend you up for that time.”— Cincinnati Commercial. ■ -««« The school-ma'am may not be a mindreader, but she readers mind.