Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 October 1875 — Page 2

RENSSELAER UNION. , ? • ■ ■ -■ ' JAMES A HEALEY, Proprietors. RENSSELAER, - INDIANA.

THS CITY OS THS LIVING. In along-vanished age, whose varied story No record has to-day— So long ago expired its grief and glory— There flourished, far away, In a broad realm, whose beauty passed all measure, A city fair and wide, Wherein the dwellers lived in peace and pleasure, > And never any died. /. ■! * 1 Disease and pain and death, those stern marauders, Which mar our world’s fair face, Never encroached upon the pleasant borders Of that bright dwelling-place. No fear of parting and no dread of dying Could ever enter there; No mourning for the lost, no anguished crying Made any face less fair. Without the city’s walls Death reigned as _. ever, c And graves rose side by side; Within the dwellers laughed at his endeavor, And never any died. Oh, happiest of all Earth’s favored places! O bliss to dwell therein! To live in the sweet light of loving faces And fear no grave between! To feel no death-damp, gathering cold and colder, Disputing life’s warm truth— To live on, never lowlier or older, Radiant in deathless youth I And hurrying from the world’s remotest quarters A tide of pilgrims flowed Across broad plains and over mighty waters, To And that blest abode Where never death should come between, and sever Them from their loved apart— Where they might work, and win, and live forever, Still holding heart to heart. And so they lived, in happiness and pleasure, And grew in power and pride, And did great deeds, and laid up stores of treasure, And never "Shy died. And many years rolled on and saw them striving .■, With unabatf (Lbr^ath; And other years still found and left them living', And gave no hope of death. Yet listen, hapless soul, whom angels pity, Craving a boon like this — Mark how the dwellers in the wondrous city Grew weary of their bliss. One and another, who had been concealing The pain of Life’s long thrall, Forsook their pleasant places and came stealing Outside the city wall. Craving, with wish that brooked no more denying, So long had it been crossed, The blessed possibility of dying— The treasure they had lost. Daily the current of rest-seeking mortals Swelled to a broader tide, Till none were left within the city’s portals, And graves grew green outside. Would it be worth the having or the giving, The boon of endless breath? Ah, for the weariness that comes of living There is no cure but death 1 Ours were indeed a fate deserving pity Were that sweet rest denied; And few, methinks, would care to find the city Where never any died! —Chicago Journal.

THE LOTTERY TICKET.

James Lanning was a mechanic, a young, honest man, whose highest ambition was to gain a comfortable living for himself and wife, and to be thought well of by his neighbors. He had built himself a house, and there still remained upon it a mortgage of $500; but this sum he hoped to pay in a very few years if he had only his health. He had calculated exactly how long it would take him to clear off his incumbrance, and he went to work with his eyes open. One evening James came home to his supper more thoughtful than usual. His young wife noticed his manner, and she inquired its cause. “ What is it, Janies ?” she kindly asked. “ Why, 1 never saw you look so sober before.” “ Well, I’ll tell you, Hannah,” returned the young man, with a slight hesitation in his manner. “ I have just been thinking that I would buy a lottery ticket.” Hannah Lanning did not answer immediately. She looked down and smoothed the silken hair of her babe, which was chirping like a little robin in her arms, and the shade of her handsome features showed that she W'as taking time to think. •‘How much will it cost?” she asked, at length, looking half timidly up into her husband’s face. i * 1 " “ Twenty dollars,” returned James, trying to assume a confidence which he did not feel. _ : “ And have you made up your mind to buy it?” “Well, I think I shall. What do you think about it?” “If you should ask my advice, I should say do not buy it.” “But why so?” , “ For many reasons,” returned his wife, in a trembling tone. She would not offend her husband, and she shrank from giving him advice which he might not follow. “ In the first place,” she said, “ I think the whole science of lotteries is a bad one; and then you have no money to risk.” “Butjust look ,at, the prizes,” said James, drawing a “scheme” from his pocket. “Here is one prize of $20,000, another of SIO,OOO, another of $5,000, and so on. Something tells me that if I buy a ticket I shall draw a large prize. And then just think, Hannah, how easily I should pay all up lor my house, and perhaps have agood,handsorfte»sum left.” The young man spoke w ith much earnestness and assurance; but he saw there was a cloud upon his wife’s brow. “It seems to me that the chance of drawing a prize is very doubtful,” said Hannah, as she took the scheme. “ Here are many thousand tickets to be sold.” The babe tried hard to snatch the paper, and Hannah held it aside. “ 1 think I shall run the risk,” resumed James, glancing once more over the paper, and resting with a nervous longing upon the figures which represented the higher prizes. “There’s Barney; he drew about SBOO a year ago,” “ Yes,l know it,” said Hannah with more warmth than she had before manifested, “and what has become of the money? You know he has squandered it all away.

AH, James, money is of no use unless we come honestly by it.” “ Honestly,” repeated tfteyouag man. “ Surely there is nothing dishonest in drawing a prize in a lottery.” “I think there is,” kindly, but emphatically, replied his wife. “ All games of hazard, where money is at stake, are dishonest. Were you tp draw a prize of twenty thousand dollars you would rob a thousand men of twenty dollars each; or at least you would take from them money for which you returned them no equivalent. Is it not gambling in every sense of the word ?” “Oh, no! You look upon/the matter in too strong a light.” “ Perhaps I do; but yet so It looks to me. What you may draw, some one else must lose; and perhaps it may be some one who can afford the loss no better than you can. I wouldn’t buy the ticket, James. Let us live on the products of honest gains and we shall be happier.” . I James Lanning was uneasy. He had nd answer for his wife’s Arguments; at least nio answer that could spring from his moral convictions, and he let the matter drop. But the young man could not drive the siren from his heart. All the next day his head was full of “ prizes,” and while he was at his work he kept muttering to himself, “ Twenty thousand dollars,” “ Ten thousand dollars, “Five thousand dollars,” and so on. When he went Lome the next night he was almost unhappy with the nervous anxiety into which he had thrown himself. The temlpter had grasped him firmly, and whenever he thought of the lottery he saw nothing but piles of gold and silver. In short James Lanning had made up his mind that he would buy the ticket. He went to the little box where he had already SIOO laid up toward paying off the mortgage from his house. The lock clicked with a startling sound, and when he threw back the cover he hesitated. He looked at his wife, and he saw that she was sad. “Oh, I’m sure I shall draw a prize!” he said, with a faint, fading smile, He took four half-eagles from the box and put them in his pocket. His wife said nothing. She played with her baby to hide her sadness, for she did not wish to say more on the subject. She had seen that little pile of gold gradually accumulating, and both she and her husband had been happy in anticipating the day when the pretty cottage would be all their own. But when she saw those four pieces of gold taken away from the store she felt a foreshadowing of evil. She might have spoken against the movement, but she saw that her husband was sorely tender on the subject, and she let the affair go to the hands of fate. A week elapsed from the time that James bought his ticket to the drawing of the lottery, and .during that time the young man had not a moment of real enjoyment. He was alternating between hope and fear, and therefore his mind was constantly on the stretch. At length the clay arrived. James went to the office and found that the drawing had taken place and that the list of prizes had been made out. He seized the list and turned away so that those who stood around should not see his face. He read the list through, but he searched for his number in vain. It was not there. He had drawn a blank! He left the office an unhappy man. Those twenty dollars which he had lost had been the savings of two months of hard labor, and he felt their loss most .keenly. When he returned home that night he told his wife that he lost. She found no fault with him. She only kissed him and told him that the lesson was a good one, even though it had been dearly bought. But James Lanning was not satisfied. He brooded over his loss with a bitter spirit, and at length the thought came to him that he might yet draw a prize. He wished that he had not bought the first ticket, and he thought that if he could only get back his.twenty dollars he would buy no more; but he could not rest under his loss. He was determined to make one more trial, and he did so. This time he purchased the ticket without his wife’s knowledge. The result was the same as before. He drew a blank.

“Forty dollars!” was a sentence that dwelt fearfully upon the mechanic’s lips. “ Oh, I must draw a prize!” he said to himself. “I must make up what I have lost. Let me once do that and I’ll buy no more tickets." Another twenty dollars was taken from the little bank, another blank was drawn. At tlie end of three months the little bank was empty, and James Lanning had the fast ticket in his pocket. Ah, how earnestly he prayed that that last ticket might draw him a prize! He had become pale and careworn, and his wifeApoor, confiding soul, thought he only repined because he had lost twenty dollars. \ When she would try to cheer him he would laugh and try to make the matter light. “ James,” said his wife to him one day —it was the day before that on which the lottery was to be drawn in which he held the sixth ticket—“ Mr. Bowse has been here to-day after his semi-annual interest. I told him that you would see him tomorrow.” “Yes, 1 will,” said James in a faint voice. “ Yes, to-morrow I shall pay him.” Young Lanning thought of the lottery and of the prize. This was his sixth trial, and he fcjt sure that he should draw. The morrow came, and when James Lanning returned to his home at night he was penniless! All his golden visions had faded away, and he was left in darkness and misery. “ James, have you paid Mr. Rowse his interest yet?” said Hannah. The young man leaned his head upon his hands and groaned aloud. “ For Heaven’s sake, James, what has happened?” cried the startled wife, springing to tlie side of her husband, and twining her arms about his neck. SJThe young man looked up with a wild, haggard expression. His lips were bloodless, and his features were all stricken with a death hue. “ What is it?.Oh, what ?” murmured tlie wife. “ Go look in our ,box —our little bank!” groaned the poor man. Hannah hastened away, and when she returned she bore an empty box in her hand. ■ “ Robbed!” she gasped, and she sank tremblingly, down by her husband's side. “ Yes, Hannah,” whispered tlie husband, “ I have robbed you.” * The stricken wife gazed upon her husband with a vacant look, for at first she ci id not comprehend; but she remembered his behavior for weeks past; she remembered how he had murmured in his sleep of lotteries and tickets, of blanks hrfd prizes and gradually the truth broke in upoii her. “ I have done it all, Hannah,” hoarsely whispered the condemned man, when he siiw that his wife guessed the truth. “All has gone for iotteiy tickets. The demon tempter lured me; he held up glittering gold in his hand, but he gave me none of it. Oh, do not chide me! You know not

what I have suffered—what hours of agony I have and you cannot know now. Omy wife, would to Gbd I had listened tj>you!” “ —sh,” calmly whispered the faithful wife, as she drew her hand across her husband’s heated brow. “ Mourn not for what is lost. I wjll not chide thee. It is hard thus for you to lose your scanty earnings, but there might be many calamities worse than that; courage, James; we will soon forget it.” “And Mr. Rowse will foreclose the mortgage. You will be homeless,” murmured young Lanning, in broken accents. “ No; I will see that all is safe in that quarter,” added Hannah. At that moment the babe awoke, and the gentle mother was called to care for it. On the next day, at noon, Hannah Lanning gave her husband a receipt for fifteen dollars from Mr. Rowse. “ Here,” said she, “ interest is paid. Now let us forget all that has passed, and commence again.” / “ But how —what has paid this?” asked James, gazing first upon the receipt and then upon his wife. “ Never mind.” “Ah, but I must mind. Tell me, Han- “ Well, I have sold my gold watch.” “ Sold it!” “ But I can buy it back again. The man will not part with it. But I don’t want it, James', till we are able. Perhaps I shall never want it. You must not chide me, for never did I derive one iota of the pleasure from its possession that I now feel in the result of its disposal.” James Lanning clasped his wife to his bosom and he murmured a prayer, and in that prayer there was a pledge. Two years passed away, and during that time James Lanning lost not a single day from his work. He was as punctual as the sun, and the result was as sure. <■; It was late on Saturday evening when he came home. After supper he drew a paper from his pocket and laid it upon the table. “There, Hannah,” said he, while a noble pride beamed in every feature, “ there is my mortgage. I’ve paid it—every cent. This house is ours; it is our own house. I’ve bought it with dollars, every one of which has been honestly earn.ed by the sweat of my brbw. lam happy now.” Hannah Lanning saw that her husband had opened his arms, and she sat down upon his knee and laid her hand upon his shoulder. “ Oh, blessed moment!” she murmured. “Yes, it is a blessed moment,” responded the husband. “ Do you remember, Hannah, the hour of bitterness that we saw two years ago ?” The wife shuddered, but made no reply. “Ah,” continued the young man, “I have never forgotten, that bitter lesson, and even now I tremble when I think how fatally I was deceived by the tempter that has lured so many thousands to destruction.” “ But its horror is lost in this happy moment,” said Hannah, looking up with a smile. “ Its terror may be lost,” resumed James, “ but its lesson must never be forgotten. Ah, the luring lottery ticket has a dark side—a side which few see until they feel it.’’ “And are not all its sides dark?” softly asked the write. “If there is any brightness about it is only the glare of the fatal ignis fatuus which can only lead the wayward traveler into danger and disquiet.” “ You are right, my dear wife. You were right at first. Ah,” he continued, as he drew the faithful being more closely to his bosom, “if husbands would oftener obey the tender dictates of the loving wife there would be far less of misery in the world than there is now.”

RELIGIOUS AND EDUCATIONAL.

—The number of Presbyterian churches on the Pacific coast has increased this year from 105 to 115, and of ministers from 115 to 125. —The preachersof the Methodist Church South report 300 conversions as the fruits of their camp-meetings in Maryland, combined with subsequent services in their churches. Dong Gong, a Chinaman, was ordained in Oregon as a Baptist minister recently, after due examination by a council of ministers. Several of his countrymen were present. —Mrs. E. H. Tubman has presented to the Campbellite Society of Augusta, Ga., a magnificent church edifice, having the udlest spire in the South, and costing her nearly $70,000. —The number of Baptist communicants in Nova Scotia, as reported to the recent annual convention, is 20,495; in New Brunswick, 11,375; in Prince Edward Island, 1,072 —making a total of 32,942. —The Boston North Baptist Association comprises thirty-six churchei, twentyeight ministers and 10,867 communicants. Their contributions for church and benevolent purposes during the last financial year amounted to $133,235. —The following resolution has been unanimously adopted by one of the Baptist Associations of Kansas: “That, in our opinion, the most befitting part which tlie Baptists of Kansas could take in the Centennial movement would be one concentrated effort to pay offtheirchurch debts.” —The sixty-seventh annual report of the Pennsylvania Bible Society states that during the past year it has circulated 71,786 volumes, the value of which was $29,308. Of these volumes 27,741 were Bibles and 37,793 Testaments. The remainder were Testaments and Psalms and other portions of the Scriptures. —The Khedive of Egypt has made up his mind that the girls in his country must be educated as well as the boys. Out of the 350,000 boys in Egypt 100,000 are at school and skillful Europeans rare the instructors. Miss Whfately, a niece of the late Archbishop Whately, has the direction of the girls’ schools. The Khedive sets the example by securing to each of his own sons and daughters a fine education. —The following is a summary of thestatistics of the new Diocese of Western Michigan: Clergy (Bishop,!; 29; deacon, 1), 31; parishes, 33; church edifices, 29; families, 1,440; adults and children, 4,820; baptisms (adults, 89; infants, 289), 378 ; confirmed in 23 parishes and Bstations, 231; communicants, present number, 2,626; Sunday-school teachers, 346; pupils, 2,288; contributions, total (including episcopate fund of $38,044.75, subscribed in twenty-two parishes and one mission), $96,425.85. ( This is the roughest conjugal experience on record: Ina Brooklyn divorce suit, the husband, who was Superintendent of a horse-car line, alleges that his wife is employed as a “ spotter,” and that throtfgh her influence he was turned out of his berth.

Our Young Folks.

A BRAVE BOY. A TRUE STORY.' A little white farm-house stands all alone on one of the Berkshire hills in Massachusetts. It is built close upon the edge of a wood, so that the barn and all the fields are on the other side of the road in front of the house. Here lived Farmer Scott, his wife, their prettydaughter Hattie, and Ben, their son, who was twelve years of age, and a very handsome boy spite of freckles, sunburn, and neverending scratches on his face and hands; for his eyes shone large and bright, with an honest, fearless look, and his wellshaped mouth disclosed teeth so white and even tliat it was quite delightful to see him laugh. Ben wore neither stockings nor shoes in summer, and, except on Sunday, with regard to his clothes he was a perfect ragamuffin. His father was a hard-flawed farmer, who meant that Ben should earn his own living, and had no intention of wasting good clothes upon him every day until he could earn enough to pay for them. So Ben drove the oxen, crying: “ Whoa! haw, there!” for hours together, and he went after the cows and helped to milk them. He caught the old gray horse when he chose to kick up his heels tandrace wildly around the field, preferring to eat clover to plowing up the ten-acre lot, And Ben helped- bind up the thistly wheat, and get in the hay, and the harvesting of the corn and oats, and worked as hard as anybody on threshing days. And in the winter he went to school, and chopped wood in the early mornings and late afternoons, and helped to kill the pigs—which last was such horrible work that the supper of delicious tenderloins hardly paid for it; and all this he did so cheerfully and steadily that at last even his father admitted that he hail earned a suit of “ store clothes,” while his mother and Hattie, who loved him dearly, had thought so for a very long time. So one happy afternoon early in October Ben arrayed himself in his well-worn, home-made Sunday clothes, which had been pieced down in the legs of the trousers and sleeves of the jacket more than once. They were to become an everyday suit as soon as the “ store clotlies” were finished, and he was going this afternoon through the woods "to the village, four miles away, to be measured by the tailor, to whom his father had given him an order. “ But look here, mother,” said Ben, “ I ought to have new boots, too, oughtn’t I ? My Sunday boots are going to split very soon.” “ Yes, my lad, and here’s the money to buy them,” and she took down the old cracked.teapot in which she kept her own private egg and butter money and took three dollars out of it. “ Mind, Ben,” she said, “to buy a stout, double-soled pair with plenty of squeak in ’em; and here are ten cents besides for peanuts, and be sure you are back by sundown.” Ben thanked his mother, giving her a hearty h*ug and kiss, and started off barefooted and as happy as a bird in spring. He went whistling through the woods, stopping sometimes to eat checkerberries or chew birch bark: He chased a little chipmunk up into a tree and carefully avoided stepping upon abig spider because old Miss Lucindy Tuckey said if you killed one it was sure to bring rain. He took out his jack-knife and cut down a sapling and carved his name on the side of it, and at last he arrived at the village, four miles away. Ben soon reached the tailor’s shop. He found him with his back to the door, sitting on the counter cross-legged, like a Turk, stitching on a coat and keeping time with his needle to such a funny old sopg that the boy crouched down on the door-step to listen. The last line of every verse was repeated and bawled out in a long, slow way, and then the needle gave solemn flourishes in the air, only to go on faster at the next verse. This is the song: In good old colony times, When we lived under the King, Three roguish chaps fell into mishaps Because they could not sing— Because—they— could—not— sing! The one he was a miller, And the other he was a weaver, And the third he was a little tai-tor. And three great rogues together! And—three—great—rogues—together! The miller he stole wheat, And the weaver he stole yarn, And the little tail-or he stole broadcloth, To keep these three rogues warm— To—keep—these—three—rogues—warm!

The miller—was drowned in his dam! And the weaver—was hung in his yarn! And the Sheriff clapped his claw on the little With the broadcloth under his arm! With—the —broadcloth—u nder—his—arm! And the tailor, in making an extra flourish, kicked the scissors ofl the counter, and, jumping down to get them, he spied Ben with his nands over his ifiouth bursting with laughter. “ Halloo!” he cried, “ who’d a thought of seeing you, my fine young Scott! Come in, and tell all you know. How’s your pretty sister ?” The tailor was dreadfully in love with Hattie, so there was a great deal of talking to do before Ben’s measure was taken. “I’ll make you a tip-top fit, Ben,” he said; “you’ll cut a greater dash than old Deacon Button, for whom I am just finishing this coat,” which speech caused the boy to shake his curly head and laugh, for Deacon Button was a grandfather, and had a bald head as white and smooth as a billiard-ball. After Ben had been measured, and had promised to take the tailor’s kind regards to his sister, he went to the store to get his boots. Of course you all know that a village jitore is a sort of omnium gatherum, where calicoes and codfish, mackerel and muslins, boots, butter, blacking, sugar, silk, soap, peanuts,' pails, tea, teacups and everything else is, or ought to be, for sale. Here the dapper clerk fitted Ben with a famous pair of boots that almost screamed, they squeaked so loud, and advised him to wear them home, “ so’s to limber ’em,” he said, which seemed to be such capital advice that after buying the peanuts Ben, or rather his boots, screamed out of the store like a pair of hoarse, quarreling pld katydids. Now, all this buying and measuring and talking had taken a great deal of time and it was late in the afternoon when Ben entered the wood for his four-mile walk home. He knew every step of the way, besides which there was a narrow footpath which went straight through from fine end to the other, and the boy would not have minded R growing dark so rapidly if he iqad not promised his mother that he would be home by sundown. So the good little fellow hurried on and on, while the sun sank low behind the grand Berkshire hills and in a little while more bade that part of the world good-night. Outside of the wood it« was still light, for gold and crimson clouds were sailing across the sky, but before

long Ben could not see the end of his own nose and soon all sorts of queer sounds came to keep company with the quarreling old katydids in his boots. The coons scuttled past him into the thickets; the bats whizzed to and fro; and a great gog-gle-eyed owl sat in the fork of a tree and cried “Tu whit! tu whoo!” at Ben as he hurried along. But never a bit did he care for any of them. They were all old acquaintances, and he Just kept his hands in his pockets and walked as fast as he could, whistling “We’ll rally round the flag, boys!” to cheer him on his way. “ At last, through a long vista in the trees, Ben caught a tiny gleam of light. He gave a glad hurrah, for he knew that it was a candle which his kind mother had lighted for him and placed in a window of the farm-house. “ Almost home!" he joyfully shouted, when he stepped upon something soft, yielding, wriggling. A strangled hiss—a sharp, quick, angry rattle! The boy’s face turned to an ashen white, and his heart almost stopped beating. He stood perfectly still, not daring to move lest the rattlesnake—for it was one of those terrible reptiles—should instantly bite him to death. He knew by the suffocated sound of the hiss that his foot was upon the snake’s head, round which its body was tightly coiled. He tried to cry out but his voice was gone—his mouth dry and parched. Home so near; the light in the window gleaming a welcome, and his mother, he knew, waiting for him with a nice supper, while he stood there so helpless in this deadly peril. If he could only have seen, but it was pitchy dark. Only God could save him; and folding together his trembling hands he simply said: “O God, help me, help me! Show me what to do!”

As if in instant answer to his prayer his only way of escape from almost certain death came like a voice to him, and he acted at once upon its counsel. Drawing his other foot up carefully, he planted it firmly close |o the first, and now both were holding down the snake, which had never ceased to sound its dreadful rattles, and now redoubled them. Taking out his jack-knife and steadying himself by feeling for and grasping tightly a stout twig, Ben leaned over. It was so utterly dark that he could only hope that the snake’s head was not free enough to make a dart at his hand. He could see nothing whatever, and he knew not where to begin. Clasping the knife firmly, he cut down and round both feet, through and through, round and round, until the rattles faltered, grew faint and fainter, and then ceased. Great drops of perspiration fell from his brow, and when it was over, and he felt that his enemy was vanquished and dead, he could scarcely raise himself upright, for he was so sick and dizzy. The knife dropped from his hand and a great sob broke from his breast. But with a violent effort he darted forward and in five minutes more he was at the edge of the wood, and in the house, and the next instant lie had thrown himself upon his mother’s neck in a passion of tears. “Why, Ben!” she exclaimed, terribly frightened, “ what has happened?” “I’m ashamed to ciy, I just am,” said the boy, struggling with his sobs, and at last laughing and crying together—“ but when a fellow steps on a rattlesnake in the dark and has got to kill it or be killed I tell you it’s no joke!” “Oh, oh!” screamed his mother hugging him tight, “are you sure it did not bite you?” “Not a bite,” he answered; “thanks to you, mother, for my new boots saved me.” “But why did you not come home earlier?” z - “ Oh, because the tailor kept me so long talking about Hattie, and he sent his kind regards to her.” “Well,” said Hattie, “I never could bear him, and now I hate him! But come, Ben, and eat your supper.” What a fine supper he had, to be sure! for several extra goodies were added—on account of the rattlesnake adventure—and his mother was so proud of him!—his father, too, though he did not know how to show it. The next morning the whole family went into the woods to see the dead reptile. There it lay, cut four times through, with Ben’s knife, which he had dropped, resting upon its ugly head. It had nineteen rattles, which indicated that it was quite old, as the rattles increase with the years. You may be sure that if my friend Ben lives to grow up and have children and grandchildren he will tell them this story many times; and you maybe equally sure that the rattlesnake will never tell it once to anybody.— Fanny Barrow, in Christian Union.

MECHANICAL AND SCIENTIFIC.

—The fluidity of the Berlin iron, from which the finest and sharpest, although not the strongest, castings are made, is attributed to the presence of arsenic in the iron. —ln relating his, experiments with insectivorous plants Dr. Moore, of Glasnevin, states that in one instance he found in a single pitcher of a Nepenthes the remains of ninety-one ants, sixteen wasps, four large blue-flies, one cockroach, five earwigs and seven wood-lice—in all 125 insects —besides a putrid mass of the dead bodies of creatures too decomposed to be recognized. —An engine has been invented in Paris which is driven by the alternate expansion and contraction of oil or some other liquid, contained in cylinders. The liquid is heated so as to expand by the application of hot water passing through small tubes, and cooled so as to contract by means of a refrigerating mixture similarly applied. —A French. machinist has discovered that, by keeping his turning tools constantly wetted with petroleum, he was able to cut metals and alloys with them, although when the tools were used without the oil their edges were soon turned and dulled. The hardest steel can be turned easily if the tools be thus wet with a mixture of two parts of petroleum with one part of turpentine. —Among the. most interesting conclusions arrived at, recently, by those astronomers who have specially directed their attention to the solar spots is that, during periods of great disturbance, there is a tendency in the spots to change alternately from the northern to the southern hemisphere, and vice versa, the period of such change being about twenty-five daj s. On the other hand, jt is only when the solar disturbance is inconsiderable that the spots do not present any such systematic oscillation. Connecting this generalization with previous discoveries, it is regarded as demonstrable that outbreaks probably occur in pairs, at opposite ends of the same solar diameter, at an interval of twelve or thirteen days.— Exchange. —lt is a peculiarity of human nature that, just as bethinks he could runanewspaper, every man thinks he knows just how an election is going.

A Spanish Town.

Writing from a town in Spain •< corespondent says: “Everyone knows what Spanish hotel-fare savory stews, tomatoes, pimentos, garlic,, luscious. fruit and black wine. Then come the cigar and. the cup. of coffee and. the- pleasant chat; and now the evening airiis cool and refreshing, and some go to the oircus, some to the Casino, for cards,, billiards, chess, or dominoes, and some—But few—sit quietly down, in their owm rooms to read or write. Presently yom hear. some strangely-sweet, silvery tones of. music outside the window, and, sauntering to the ever-open door, find all the servants gathered round.* stranger from. Southern Murcia, who. is playing that least-known but sweetest of instruments, the Murcian psalterio, in the notes of whichris blended the sweetness of the harp with the sprightliness of the guitar of Andalusia. He comes, at invitation, into-the cool kitchen of the hotel,, seats himself and, as he plays his most thrilling tunes, guests and host and all the girl-servants gather round to listen. All are equal,, all as one in the enjoyment of this simple- feast, until, he strikes up the “ Marcha Real” as a signal that he must be-off and away. So simple, so unsophisticated, so untrammeled by the usages of polite society is the life of the true, unpolluted Spanish town. The ■psalteria approaches very nearly to the Bavarian zither, but is much larger and more powerful. It is in shape like a tray,.covered with silver cords and slung round the neck, and is played with, the Angers. It is by no. means common in any part of Spain and in Andalusia is unheard of. Tlje life and amusements of these little towns are exceedingly simple;: indeed all is refreshingly primitive.. In the summer months amusements are almost unknown. There is for both higher and middle class the early morning or late evening walk, or perhaps some strolling circus comes round—one, a wretched troupe, is here now —and all classes freely crowd to see its performances. The best seats (stalls) cost one peseta; the worst, one real. Those who can afford it go to the nearest baths—-those of Novelda, near Alicante — and drink the sulphur waters and’ take the hot baths. These baths are said to cure all diseases of the skin and blood. There is a good hotel attached to them, and about 200 people are there from, June to the end of September. Every Sunday and on feast days a priest from the neighborhood goes to'perform the misa and minister to the spiritual needs of this little community. A joyous, hearty fellow he is, and just the man to cheer up the patients, who are somewhat sad, with his bright smile and ringing laugh. The Spanish Church always selects for this kind of duty one of her cleverest and most winning clergy; and so at the Spanish baths you constantly have the most efficient and able clergyman of the neighborhood. No church so well as that of Rome knows how to utilize her forces and turn the talents of her good and gifted men to real account.”

Substitutes for Steam.

It Is known that the expansion of liquids by heat takes place with such force that practically it may be considered irresistible, while vapors being elastic any resistance causes compression; it is true that the expansion of a liquid into a vapor causes an expansion many hundred times equal to the volume of the liquid, and that the expansion of the liquid itself by heat is very small; but in compensation for this the force developed is enormous. This is now being applied to develop power, and experiments made in London in which either oil or glycerin is made to perform the functions of steam by the same means—the application of heat—have excited no small interest. The heat expanding the oil placed in small cylinders, a pressure of 10,000 pounds per square inch may be obtained without the danger of steam explosions, which latter prevents the use of a pressure more than 200 pounds to the square inch generally. In this instance an explosion would only crack the cylinder containing the oil. The application of this process appears, from the accounts published, to have been successfully made to the printing-press and to machines for riveting and punching, and it is alleged that the variety of uses of which it is susceptible will be found very great. It is known that the rapid motion of a steam-piston may, by gearing and belting, be made to produce a very slow but powerful motion over a very small space, able to punch and cut iron plates otherwise requiring tons of pressure to penetrate, and it is equally evident that this operation may be inverted, and that it slow and very powerful motion over a small space (as obtained during the expansion of liquids by heat) may, by gearing and belting, be made to produce as rapid a motion as is obtained by any steam-engine.—Manu-facturer and Builder.

A California Story.

The Sonora Democrat of the 2d has the following: “As the Sonora and Milton stage was leisurely approaching Tuttletown on Wednesday evening, dogs were heard baying opposite a deep cut just ahead. As the stage approached there was a terrible racket in the brush, the dogs made a grand rush, and a huge California lion bounded aboard and seated himself by the side of the only outside passenger—a Chinaman. The Chinaman only gave a momentary glance before he yelled: “Me no likee! All same China devil; good-by, John,” and then the driver and his strange passenger had the outside by themselves. By this time the team had become restive and started on a half-gallop dewn the grade, pursued by dogs. As Sam had a splendidia stretch of road ahead, he had ample time to note the graceful bearing of the lion, and he says the animal, in the most engaging manner imaginable, showed him the finest set of teeth he ever saw in his life. In a few minutes the stage emerged into an open flat with cattle feeding on either side, and as the vehicle came whirling along, enveloped in a cloud of dust, the barking of the dogs and the growling of the lion became so violent Jhat it stampeded the cows and horsqs. By this time Sam began to see that affairs were getting a little mixed, and he gave the lion a cut with his whip, when he sprang upon the nearest cow and played circus until she bucked him off in the neighboring brush. Sam says the last he heard of the lion he was mowing a swath through the brush and ‘walloping’ the dogs right and left.” Debt may not be regarded as a positive evil until it becomes a burden, and then, unless circumstances are fortuitous, it will ultimately break down the party or the corporation struggling to carry ’it. The Michigan girl who sawed two cords of wood in a day has an average of twenty-five offers of marriage per week, and each offer includes a saw and sawbuck. — Free Pretn. Misery loves company, and so does a marriageable young lady.