Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 November 1875 — Page 1

HORACE E. JAMES, Proprietor.

VOL. VIII.

DIVORCE. The <§wr has spoken, The law has broken, And men have hearkened its stern decree. The great world wondered: * Two lives are sundered, Two streams have flowed to the sullen sea. The past is in ashes, And memory dashes The hopes that were born with the birth of the years; Life's dream is relinquished, Love’s lamp is extinguished, The future is laden with curses and tears. Death’s parting—to sever Forever, forever, To breathe in a world without fragrance or bloom! Death’s parting—to wander Alone and to ponder O’er dreams that lie buried in anguish and gloom. What demon has entered Where angels have centered, Where life was as sweet as the glance of a child? What flame has o’erpowered The love so embowered, The beauty, the hope and the faith undeliled ? J\\i\ bright was the summer, When ev’ry new-comer Poured gladness in bosoms of bridegroom and bride; Ah! pure was each meeting, Each smile and each greeting, Each tear that seemed sweeter than honor or pride. f Their unrepenting, Their eyes unrelenting, They turn from the path that is fairest to men; • Hope-weary and sighing, Love bitterly dying, The visions that were will come never again. O Heart! once forsaken. Once withered and shaken, Tny world is hereafter u woe and a shame; Cold pride may sustain thee! ’Twill bruise thee and chain thee, ’Twill mock thee with throbbings thou canst not reclaim. —George Edgar Montgomery, in the Arcadian.

A ROMANCE OF HARD WORK.

“ Raymond Thurston, I believe you are insane.” As Amabel spoke her voice had a sharp quiver of pain as well as anger. She was very proud of her brother—proud of his handsome face, proud of his talents—and she considered lie was about to degrade himself socially, if not morally, by the stand he had announced himself to have taken. Seeing her passionate outcry had not moved him, she said, pleadingly: “ Have you no pride left—you who had all the old Thurston pride once ?’’ “ I have just so much pride left, Amabel,” he answered, “ that I cannot sit litre eating the bread of idleness another day.” “ You know you are more than welcome here.” “I do know it. I appreciate your husband’s kindness at its full value, Amabel. I hope the day will come when I can prove it. And, Sis, I am only too thankful that you have his true love and strong arm now, when we have lost so much. Now', darling, don’t try to hold me back from honest employment.” “ But, Raymond, you can surely obtain some gentlemanly position.” “ I have been trying faithfully for six months, you know with what success. There, don’t look at me so pitifully; it will come right one of these days.” “ I wonder what Bertha Haines will say when she sees you perched upon the driver’s seat of an express-cart.” For the first time the forced composure of Raymond’s face was stirred. A dark red flush crept to his very hair and he rose and walked up and down the room. Glad to have him moved at last, his sister said: “ With her aristocratic ideas and the pride that is inborn in her family, she will never recognize you again, Raymond.” “ Then I must, lose the honor of her friendship,” Raymond said hoarsely. “Don’t say anymore, Amabel.” And unable to bear any further remonstrance he left the room, and a little later the house. The Thurston pride of which Amabel had spoken was stinging him sorely, in spite of the brave face he carried to cover it. He was a man of twenty-eight, and his lite had held only the pleasures of wealth, the opportunities money gives for the development of intellect for twentyseven of these years, wHis parents died when he was a boy, and Amabel, his only sister, fifteen years his seniOT, married before she was twenty, and gave her brother a home, whenever he was not traveling, or in some seminary or college. While he considered himself a rich man Raymond had accepted this hospitality as freely as it was ottered, and Amabel’s jewel case, her husband’s library, and her children’s iplay-room bore witness of her brother’s generosity But suddenly, without warning, there swept over the country one of the devastating financial crashes so overwhelming in this land of speculation, and Raymond was recalled from Europe by his brother-in-law informinghhn ihartrir entire patrimony had been swept away. Investments that had seemed to the young man, ignorant in all business details, as secure as they were flattering had fallen to ruin, and a few r hundred dollars dnly were left of what had been a noble fortune. At first Raymond did not realize the extent of his misfortune. He was still young, well educated, in perfect health, and certainly the world had some niche where he could earn an honest living. But weeks of seeking for employment gave him a keener knowledge of his misfortune. Friends who had been willing to smoke his cigars and drink his wines; who were yet willing to extend every social greeting, shook their heads when asked to confide any portion of their business into his keeping. Brought up to study, to live a life of elegant leisure, Raymond Thurston at twenty-eight knew absolutely nothing of business, nor had he studied any one branch sufficiently to qualify himself for a teacher. He tried faithfully to find some employment, spending what little remained of his fortune with the lavish hand that had not yet learned economy. Society welcomed him home after two years ol wandering, for Amabel Barclay

THE RENSSELAER UNION.

kept open liopse for her friends and Raymond was a favorite in her circle. Her husband, many years older than herself, had long retired from business with a large income, and while he gave Raymond cordial welcome had no opportunity to aid in finding occupation. And Bertha Haines, the" friend from whom Raymond parted two years before, hq,this renewed intercourse became to him more than ever was friend before. They had not thought of love lb the days when the girl was a debutante in society and Raymond one of its favorite beaus; but when they met after the long parting some new emotions stirred both hearts. They did not know what made the hours pass so quickly when they were together, nor recognize the subtle charnuthat dwelt for each in the other’s presence, for many a w eek. Raymond was the first to aw r aken to the knowledge that love was the charm that bound him to Bertha’s side whenever she was present; that it was love that made her eyes, the dark, sparkling eyes, so beautiful in their expression; that love tuned her voice so musically; that love made her the dearest of all women in his eyes. Amabel was delighted. Bertha was one of her oWn fast friends, and Bertha’s father a merchant of standing and influence. Asjde from this the girl had inherited money from her mother. Altogether, Amabel decided the match would be charming. But a hint to that effect met one of Raymond’s sternest frowns, such as had never visited his face in the old sunshiny days. “ Never speak of it again, Amabel,” he said: “lam no fortune-hunter to live upon the money of a rich wife. I’ll carve out my own way first.” But carving his own way proved tedious work till, desperate at his many failures, he accepted a position, offered in jest, of driver to an express wagon. “I .do understand horses,” he said, “if I cannot sell goods or keep books.” It proved harder work, however, than in the first flush of his desperation lie had imagined. Not the mere w r ork; that he ’soon conquered; but the slights, rudeness and stares of his old friends. Some few recognized the true nobility that accepted honest labor rather than an easy dependence upon wealthy connections, but these were few. A w*eek passed, when one morning, delivering some goods at one of the most fashionable stores on Broadway, as he went out, Raymond saw Bertha Haines opening the door of her low carriage. An impulse made him start forward to hand her out, only to draw back crimson with confusion, and dropping the hand he was lifting to raise his hat. The sweet, musical voice he loved spoke at once: “ Please, Mr. Thurston, help me with this obstinate door. It will stick.” lie went forward, then, with all the easy grace of manner that had ever marked his intercourse with ladies. The little gloved hand was extended to meet his as she thanked him. “ It is too bad you, are engaged,” she said. “ I should’ like so to borrow your artist eye to aid me iff selecting a dress for my reception on Thursday evening. But you will come and tell me how I succeeded alone, will you not ?’ ’ She said the last words very earnestly* raising her dark eyes to his face. “ Do you really wish me to come now?” he asked. “Ido!" “ Then I will come! I must say goodmorning,” and he left her with a most courteous bow. But while the great express-wagon rattled down the streets Miss Haines turned away from the store she had been entering and re-entered her carriage. “To my father’s,” she said to the driver, and a few moments later the merchant looked up from his ledgers to see his only child, in a faultless walkingdress, entering the counting-house. “ Another check!” he said, moving a chair to her. “How much this time?” “ Nothing! I want to talk to you. Shut the door, so those horrid men can’t hear me.” 4.The door closed, jand privacy in the sanctum was secured. Bertha astonished her paternal relative by bursting into a passion of weeping. “ Why, Bertha!” he cried. “.Never mind, papa. It is all over now. Do you remember what you said to me when Raymond Thurston asked for some employment here ?” “ Not exactly.” ,“ I do. You said that a man brought up;as he had been would want a sinecure ; that he never would come down to real work, and that you had no position for fine gentlemen; that his otter to take a subordinate position and learn business was simply a farce.” “ Did I say all that, Bertha?” “Tome you did. I suppose you dismissed him politely enough. But, papa, If you thought he was really in earnest, really meant to work for a living, would you give him a chance here ?” “Yes. Ilelias capacity, brains-and a splendid address. But he has been an idler all Lis life.” “He is no idler now. He is driving an express-cart.” . “ Bertha!” “He is. I met him not an hour ago. He thought I was going to cut him. As if,” she added, with magnificent scorn, “ I would slight an old friend iu adversity.” “ Bless my soul! Driving an expresswagon! Ned Thurston’s boy! Educated at Harvard! Dear me! Did you notice whose wagon it was, Bertha ?” Bertha had not noticed, and the old gentleman bustled into his coat and started for the office. At dinner he informed Bertha that Raymond had accepted a place in his own large establishment, -with a frank confession of his profound ignorance of all business affairs, but in earnest resolution to learn well and speedily whatever appertained to the duties intrusted to him. . It was not many--jpeeks before Mr. Haines congratulated himself upon the acquisition of his new clerk. He told Bertha marvelous stories of Raymond’s rapid progress and the strides he wasmakjng'dn his new life, not knowing of the long nights spent in poring over ledgers and accounts, the many .misgivings the new clerk felt. The same active brain and

RENSSELAER, JASPER COUNTY, INDIANA, NOVEMBER 25, 1875.

quick intelligence the new student had brought to gain college honors now stood in good stead in mastering the intricacies in invoices, book-keeping and countinghouse mysteries, and Raymond gained favor rapidly in the eyes of his employer. It is a question whether actual merit would have advanced him quite so frequently as he was promoted, hard as he worked and steadily as lie improved. But Mr. Haines worshiped liis only child, and the burst of tears in the counting-house told him the secret Bertha successfully concealed from all others. A self-made man himself, with an ample fortune to add to the one Bertha already held, lie laid no stress upon money in thinking of a son-in-law. Energy, industry, integrity—these were the foundation-stones of his own fortune, and these were the qualities he desired in a life-companion for the child who was the hope and pride of his old age. The closer the ties were bound that drew Raymond• Thurston to him in business the more he honored and esteemed the sterling worth of the man he so long regarded as a mere butterfly °f fashion, one of fashion’s spoiled children. And learning to respect his worth he had also learned td love the frank, bright face, the clear, ringing voice, and the ever-ready courtesy of the young clerk. It grew to be a very frequent occurrence for him to ask the support of the strong, young arm when the streets were slippery, and at the door to invite Raymond to dine, sure of a beaming Jook of pleasure from Bertha. There came a day, after two long years of faithful service, when Raymond was informed in the privacy of his countinghouse that a junior partnership was his if lie would accept it. Some emotion checked the utterance of Raymond’s heartfelt gratitude. He extended his hand to meet a cordial grasp and hear: “Yes, yes! I know. And now if you want to tell Bertha the news you may take a holiday.” “ May I tell her more? May I tell her I love —that the one hope of my life is to win her love in return?” “You may tell her that 1 have been your most sincere friend and warmest well-wisher for two years. You may tell her,” and the old man’s eyes twinkled, “that I have looked upon you as a son ever since the day she met you driving an express-wagon.” “ And behaved like an angel!” “Yes, yes, of course, they always do. There; get along with you. I’m busy. Take my love to Bertha, if you are not overburdened with your own.” And so—you know the rest. There was a wedding, and Amabel gave the bride a parure of diamonds and owned, when in a burst of confidence Bertha told the whole story, that after all the Thurston, pride was not so good in the end as Raymond’s pride.

The Bull and the Locomotive.

A two-year-old bull of a bellicose and disputatious turn of mind brought the up train yesterday morning to a stand-still just this side of Mechanicville. The engineer saw the bull on the track and tooted for him to get off. But the young bovine evidently regarded the locomotive as a big rival, and at eveiy toot of the whistle he answered back with a bellow, and began to paw up the dirt and lash his tail as if he could lick all the bulls in creation. The whistle snorted. The bull bellowed. The engineer hallooed at the bull. But the bull lowered his head and challenged the locomotive to come on. Then the engineer stopped his train and went out and told the bull to “,git off.” The bull refused. And then the brakemen rallied, and a grand charge,was made on the bovine, but the bovine went for the brakemen and drove them out.. So they armed themselves with fence-rails and bow lders, and, amid the cheers and shouts of the assembled passengers and the inspiring shrieks of the whistle, the fight opened once more. For some time it was doubtful which way the tide of battle would turn. Several times the railroaders were put to flight. At last, however, the bull was defeated by a piece of strategy. A feint was made in his front, while the enemy moved by the flank , and, taking Mr. Bull in the rear, got possession of his tail. This substantially ended the fight and the bull w r as ignobly turned into the ditch. The battle for the possession of the road lasted about ten minutes and was one of the most lively struggles for the possession of a railroad known in history.— Saratogian.

A Thief-Taker’s Observations.

One of our banks (writes a New York correspondent of the Boston Journal) kept losing money, only in small sums, yet the loss was constant and mysterious. A celebrated detective was called in. “Let everybody leave the Directors’ room,” he said. “ Send in. everybody, one by one, who has had a chance to steal.” Sc the President, the Cashier, the tellers, the book-keepers and clerks had a private interview with the detective. Everyone.in the bank knew the purppse of the visit, and all but one were slightly nervous and tions of the chief. The last whoentered was a nephew of the President. He walked in cool, unembarrassed and indifferent, and with an air that said “ proceed.” He was dismissed, as well as the rest. The detective said not a word, left the bank, and in one week returned. He had been shadowing the President’s nephew. In a clear, fair hand was written out the whereabouts of the young man for the last six days, the company he kept, what he drank, the hours he spent on the road, his night orgies, and all his movements by night ana by day. Nobody in the bank knows to-day that the President’s nephew was the thief. That his health was not good,, that he was traveling in Europe, and that his place in the bank was filled by another were well known. The bank was saved from robbery, the famHy from dishonor, the detective commended for his skill and prudence, and was all the happier for a check of SI,OOO. A detective told me that in ten years be had never failed to detect the culprit. —“Mamie,” saida mother to a little six-year-old, “ if I was a little girl like you I would pick up all those chips.” “Well, mamma,” said the little one,* “ ain’t you glad you are not a little girl?”

A Short Romance of a Smuggler’s Daughter.

Around the whole rock-bound coast of England there is no more romantic spot than Marsden Rock. It is a marine resort that attracts thousands of picnickers during the summer, while in winter it is the scene of the wildest storms. There is no house at the place—when the word “house” is used in the ordinary human acceptation. But there is a mansion caverned out of the solid limestone cliff, with its drawing-rooms, ball-rooms, retiringrooms and sleeping-rooms, which for half a century has won the admiration of all beholders. Peter Allen, a bold and daring smuggler, sought sanctuary here in the early part of the century. With the assistance of some of his human tools he caverned his mansion in the rocks, and when the work was half completed he brought home a bride. No one knew whence she came or who she was. But everybody saw that she was a singularly handsome woman. When the smuggling business ceased to be safe or profitable Peter Allen devoted his energies to the establishment of his sea-cavern as a summer hotel. Everything he touched became gold. He educated a pig and two ravens, and when he went to market the pig followed him through the streets, and the ravens perched on his shoulders at his back or went thieving at the fruiterers’ stalls. The man knew the secret of advertising, and liis summer hotel became renowned all over the land.

In the process of time he had two daughters. Lizzie was a renowned rifle-shot, and at 100 yards could knock the bottom out of a bottle through the neck. A gunmanufacturer of Manchester saw her perform the feat, and he presented her with a gold-mounted rifle, which she retains up to the present hour. Lizzie w*as a brunette of the magnificent order, and in some respects resembled her father. From the time she was sixteen she had scores of lovers, and more than one aristocrat offered liis hand and fortune. Like many women with dazzling opportunities, she married beneath her and has since figured in the London Divorce Courts. Polly was a beautiful blonde, proud and pretty as a picture. Local poets of Newcastle, Sunderland and Shields drifted into doggerel over her, and SirHedworth Williamson, Baron of Cleadon Hall, felt it impossible to keep his son at Cambridge University on account of the magnetism of Polly’s beauty. The young nobleman spent days and nights at Marsden unknown to his parents; and in the summer of 1865 Polly and he were missing six weeks. Soon after his father died, and the young man inherited the baronetage and became a Member of Parliament for North Durham. He married a daughter of the Duke of Newcastle, and at the present time has two daughters. Miss Polly Ann was never known to have married, but she and two daughters have lived in comparative luxury until a month since, when Lady Williamson met them at Marsden. There was an instantaneous recognition by the two women of each other’s children. Words and explanations'followed; with the seffuel that Pollyclaims to be Sir Hepworth’s wife, and now there promises to be a scandalous case of bigamy in high life.—s<. Louis Republican.

The History of Suicide.

At the last meeting of the Medico-Legal Society Mr. R. S. Guernsey’s paper on “ The Penal Laws Relating to Suicide in Ancient and Modern Times” was read by Dr. Miller. After defining the differences between the two classes of suicides recognized by the law, the author took up the history of suicide and the laws bearing upon it in different ages and different countries. The Mosaic law contains no penalty for Jdo de ge. The first suicides mentioned in the Old Testament were those of Saul and his armor-bearer. Samson’s death can hardly be called a suicide. Josephus says that in Judea the body of the man who had taken his own life was not buried till after sunset. In some parts of India suicide was once considered meritorious, but the self-immolation of widows on the funeral pyres of their husbands is no longer permitted. In China suicide is by no means uncommon, and no disgrace attaches to the victim of his own violence or to his family. In Japan suicides are frequent, and the taking of one’s life is often looked upon as meritorious. When an official has failed in the performance of his duty he has the privilege of performing hari-kari, or disemboweling himself, to save him the disgrace of dying by the hand of the executioner. If he avails himself of the privilege his property is saved from forfeiture and his family from dishonor. In some countries the act of suicide is looked upon as heroic, and frequently the sons of the self-murderer are rewarded for the courage of their father with important appointments and promotions. The Stoics, the disciples of Zeno, taught that suicide under certain circumstances was right; that as man had nothing to fear after death he was at libefty to take his' own' life w’lienever it became irksome to him. Pythagoras held that no man had the right to leave his post without an order from his commander; but other philosophers reasoned that as man’s life was his own he could dispose of it'as he pleased. * Egesiug was said to be so eloquent in praise of death that hundreds who heard him made away with themselves and suicide became epidemic. Ptolemy, alarmed at the spread pf the infatuation, ordered Egesius aw r ay from Alexandria and the people at once came to their senses. At one time in France poison was furnished to all who could give satisfactory proof that it was better for them to die than to live. A cobbler who. had determined to kill himself thought he would do it with eclat; so, having prepared his poison he began a letter which was to lie read after his death and to be talked of throughout the province. He started off with a quotation, and continued: “Thus says Moliere,” but fearing that he had erred in attributing the' remark to Moliere he took down his favorite author and Iregan to read. After an hour’s pleasant communion with the great writer he put the poison away and went to work at his ftpt- | ' '!- The Milesian virgins once became as-

flicted with the insane notion that they should commit suicide, and many of them obeyed the impulse. A law was passed ordaining that the body of the suicide should be dragged naked through the street, and this effectually dispelled the illusion. Some of the Roman jurists said that suicide was a felony unless permitted by the Emperor. Under one Emperor the soldiers were set to ditching and making sewers. Mortified at what they looked upon as an ignominy, many of them committed suicide ; Under another a soldier attempting suicide was treated as a deserter. Domitian decreed that the suicide of an accused person should , entail upon himi the dishonor that would have attached to him had his crime been proved. Among the early Christians there was an ardent longing for martyrdom, and under the influence of Tertullian’s saying: “ The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church,” numbers of them fell victims to their religious fanaticism. A Bishops’ Council in the fifth century decreed that suicide was the effect of diabolical influence. Afterward the church treated it as a sin, and the body of the self-murderer was buried without the sacred rites. In the time of Louis IX., of France, the body of the suicide was subjected to the grossest indignities. It was taken from the house through an opening made for that purpose, was horribly mutilated, and buried at night. No mass was allowed for the soul of the dead man, but the charitably disposed were kindly permitted to pray for its repose if they felt inclined. Mahomet expressly forbids suicide in the Koran, and the crime is extremely rare among Mohammedans. The Roman Catholic, the Greek and Protestant Episcopal Churches prohibit the reading of the burial service over the body of the suicide, except in the case of one who died while insane. The statute law of England prohibits it in all cases. At the time of the Reformation in England the suicide’s property was confiscated to compensate the State for the loss of a subject, his body was buried at the crossroads and a stake was driven through it to mark the detestation of the law and to deter others from the crime. This very ancient rule fell into general, if not entire, disuse many years ago, but it was not repealed until the fourth, year of George IV.’s reign, and even then, to manifest the horror of the law at the act of suicide, it was ordered that the /body, which might be placed in a churchyard or other consecrated grounds, should be buried at night and without the performance of religious rites. The Indians of South America when oppressed beyond endurance by their Spanish conquerors made away with themselves in great numbers. They were checked only by being told that if they did not desist from the practice their masters would commit suicide too, and follow them into the next world, where their toils and torments should be increased tenfold. This threat had the desired effect. There is little suicide among the North American Indians. It is only the squaws who kill themselves. They always do this by hanging to a tree, arid invariably select the smallest tree that will answer the purpose/ believing that in the next world they win be obliged to drag the tree about with them forever.—lF. Y. Sun.

The New Motor Discovered by a Chicago Man.

Mr. Nicholas Thomas, foreman of the Chicago A Northwestern Railway machine shops tn Chicago, claims to- have discovered a new motor which outdoes anything heretofore claimed in behalf of the Keely motor. The Chicago Tribune of Nov. 13 gives the following account of the operations of the Thomas machine: Yesterday afternoon the inventor gave an exhibition of what his invention can do at Featherstone’s foundry, in the presence of several gentlemen interested in mechanics. The inventor came in about three o’clock, and, when asked to proceed, did so by simply turning a cock which allowed water from the hydrant to enter the mysterious generator, where in some equally mysterious manner it was transformed into its enormous force. In forty-six seconds a pressure of 7,156 pounds to the square inch was obtained, and shortly afterward this pressure was increased to 17,000 pounds. The engine was put in motion by admitting the gas generated, or the motive power, or whatever it may be called, through a very small tube into the piston, when the wheels began to revolve. By admitting a greater or smaller quantity the speed was either increased or retarded. The inventor stood near and answered the questions asked and the criticisms offered by the spectators. Of course he did not explain everything, as that would be to divulge the great secret of the invention. But from what he said the following general description was obtained, and, it the reader has the curiosity, as many doubtless will have, to follow the matter out, he can see the machine itself at almost any time. The apparatus consists of two parts—a generator and an engine. The latter is of ordinary construction, and "is not a part of the invention. It will therefore be necessary to speak only of the generator, which the inventor keeps pretty well ljoxed up, where it is secure from the too-prying eyes of the curiosity-hunter. There are two cylinders, each about twelve inches in diameter and about twelve inches deep. Inside of these cylinders are the pipes, which are connected by another pipe to a reservoir, much stronger than the generators. The water-pipe, with a pressure of about ten pounds to the squar e inch, is connected with the generator. When the w ater is admitted it produces the force, which passes through the reservoir and thence through a pipe with an area of’alxmt 1-1 C of an inch to the engine, whose cylinder is 3J4 stroke by '3 inches in diatheter, and which niakes about 150 revolutions per minute. A lever, five feet long, is attached to the generator and loaded down at one end with a piece of iron weighing3ol pounds. This contrivance acts as a sort of safetyvalve. When the engine is not running, and the force generated is, therefore, not being exhausted, but kept in reserve, an additional weight of 220 pounds can' be attached to the weight without deflecting the lever. Yesterday afternoon Mr. Ihomas suspended himself to the weight

SUBSCRIPTION; $2.00 a Year, fn Adranee,

with his bonds, and his own weight, 160' pounds, together with that of the iron itself, was net sufficient to pull the bar down. Mr. Gage, weighing nearly 200 pounds, tried it with the eame result, and a day or two ago Mr. Sanborn, Master Mechanic of the Chicago & Northwestern l Railroad, who weighs abosrt 220 pounds, was unable to pull it down. Mr. Thomas is so well satisfied that he is determined to go further, and is confident that, before many weekshave elapsed, he will have a machine whscli will convince even, the most skeptical of its entire practicability. Even with the present apparatus, small and imperfect as a first experiment must be, he says he can drive an engine seven-y-five times as large as the one now being used. He thinks he has accomplished what Keely has and more too, but with different apparatus. One- great difference between his motor and Keely’s lies in the fact that the former claims he can run his engine continuously. He has left the office when the engine was running, and on his return, hours afterward, it had not stopped. He says he doesn’t know really how much power he has, but he knows how much pressure can be exerted to the square inch with the present apparatus. In reply to a question as to whether any chemicals or electricity were used, Mr. - Thomas l said they were not, and that nothing was used but air and water. The weight is simply used to show the pressure. Gauges were used at first, but so great was the pressure that they burst, and he now has to employ the weight. Mr. Thomas proposes to utilize his novel power to run railway trains, steam and fire engines, and generally to supersede steam where the latter is employed for mechanical purposes.

She brought the darling with her to see the play. Her entire devotion to the active infant and total indifference to observation proclaimed her its mother. She tickled the baby under the chin until it crowed again. She seized its foot and shook it tulthe infant suffocated itself with delight. This had a bad effect, for when the baby recovered its wind it yelled with fright. Then, such a kissing and dandling. It was tossed and playfully shaken, and grinned at and chirruped to until it began another alarming laugh. An artificial rose in the maternal bonnet caught the infantile eye, and the delighted mamma suffered her offspring to bob weakly up and down on its limber legs and jabber earnestly at the floral ornament. People in the vicinity grew nervous. Such a lively infant was sure to make things disagreeable before the evening was over. Several young men got up and changed their seats to the other side ot the theater. Gentlemen contracted their brows and unmarried ladies assumed fixed smiles of unnatural sweetness as they cast their fine eyes toward the playful infant and its proud and happy mother. The lights were turned up and bulged out the infant’s eyes with surprise. One feeble little hand, with all the tiny fingqrs working, was stretched convulsively toward the glittering gas-jets on the other side of the auditorium. The orchestra began with a crash. The baby fell upon its back in the maternal lap ana set up a shriek so loud that the old German doing a little solo on the comet between crashes had his sound quite drowned. It was noticed that when it came to the bass-drum man’s turn to chime in he did so with a thundering vigor that would have covered the screeches of a foundling hospital. Baby got used to it, and when the curtain rang up sat in a state of stupefaction, staring at the actors. An amiable old gentleman in eye-glasses and a white vest, sitting immediately in front of the baby, wearied of the play, and, in the most grandfatherly manner possible, turned, and, poking a fat forefinger into the infant’s ribs, jocosely clicked his tongue. The consequence of this advance was maty just as a young gentleman on the stage, who was on his knees before a young lady with averted head, remarked in an impassioned manner: “And, Edith, darling; should - Heaven bless our union and give us ” baby gave a howl of supernatural loudness. The confused and mortified old gentleman blew his nose with prodigious, vigor and looked straight before him with a very red lace. The gentleman on the stage was startled out of his speech, and the young lady, overcome with emotion, stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth. Everyman in the house scowled at the mother, who seemed more calmly delighted with her darling than ever, and made loving faces at it for full five minutes. She was really and truly unconscious that she and her pet annoyed anyone, and throughout the whole evening smiled serenely* and looked upon the infant’s screams and kicks as marks of a precocity which must excite the admiration of the public.— Salt Lake Herald.

A Detroiter of liberal education has been greatly annoyed because his wife and other women are not better posted on history and other matters connected with the growth or welfare of the country. The other day he carried home a big history and handed it to his spouse with the remark: “There, Mary, I want you to commence git page one and see if you can't -learn something.” She agreed to become his pupil, and when he camd home to supper he found her reading away, hair down, slippers on, all the fires out but one, and no sign of supper. “ Why, how’s this?” he inquired; “are you sick?” “Sick! Mo.” “ Well, where’s my supper?” * “ I don’t know anything about your supper,” she replied as she settled back in her chair, “ but I can tell you all about the first discoveiy of Florida as straight as a string!” That history hasn’t .been opened since that evening.—Detroit Free Prems. —“ Neuralgia” is the charming name of a charming girl in Wales. Her mother found it on a medicine bottle and was captivated with its sweetness. So some young man is doomed to suffer neuralgia Of the heart. 1

NO.* 10.

The Baby at the Theater.

Which He Would Rather Have.