Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 August 1876 — Page 3

The Rensselaer Union RENSSELAER, . - INDIANA.

THE OWL'S MATINEE. ■“ Once on a time,” when Time was young And every bird could u*o her toogue, They ell were bid, one summer day. To Madame Owl’* Grand Matinee. Of courae, the “all" did but imply Bird* of auch flrat-claaa quality A* could afford to come together In tip-top faaluonable feather. The Owl her smiles did freely lend. And vowed each bird wan her “dear friend.” With chatting, eating, Ringing, dress. The party was a grand success. Only the Dove cooed eoft complaint: “not weather made her poor mate faint, She must deny herself long staying, Or else her children would go straying." “So sorry!” said the Owl. “Bnt, Love, We all do know sweet Mistress Dove And her domestic ways and car s. Here comes Miss Magpie, with her airs!” Miss Magpie was “sincerely grieved;” But had a message Jnst received Whose purport, hardlr worth the mention, Still needed strict and prompt attention. “And so good-by I" All were concerned. But, when her back was fairly turned, Said Madame Owl: “I do declare No thief can with that bird compare. She's busy stealing all the day. And what she steals she hides away. Miser and thief! There’s no denying. To treat her civilly was trying.” Miss Parrot next “must go away, For her French master came that day.” Then said the Owl, as closed the door: “Good riddance of a prating bore! She talks the daylight lu and out And knows not what she talks sbont. And as for lying!—lies ne'er fail her: Besides, she' swears like any sailor.” Peacock said, next: “Good afternoon.” The Owl soon sneered: “It’s none too soon; For every bird in this wood knows You’re but an idiot in fine clothes. If you could see your legs! Poor creature! But, then, for fools there is no teacher.” Then went the Goose. “Well, go, my dear. I don't see how you got in here. A ctupid, vulgar, awkward thing, That cannot fly and cannot sing. One of the useful class ? Poor sinner! She'll make some day a decent dinner.'* The Kite went off without “good-day.” She had her reasons, I dare say. At least, the Owl said: “There she goes, The vilest wretch the whole world knows. She'd eat her mother any time Before she'd want whereon to dine; And, sure as I’m an Owl and lady, I’ve known her breakiast on her baby !” And thus, as each bird went away, The Owl hod something bad to say; Until the Dove alone remained, To hear her late companions blamed. “Why, how is this?” the Owl inquired. “I thought your mate was sick and tired, And that your children were depending Entirely on your own attending.” “Well, that is so,’’ the Dove replied, “But I have heard, while at your side, My neighbors covered so with blame I judged it better to remain. Your thought of mes I shall not fear it, Now there is no one left to hear it.” But bitter words have many wings As in a hive of bees are stings. And soon from tree-top and from spire The Owl was called, “Backbiter!” “Liar!” Was ordered off from every wood Where birds are peaceable and good; Was frightened so by birds of strife That soon she feared for her poor life. And, hiding from the sun and light, Became a filthy bird of night. —Lillie F. Barr . in F. Y. Independent.

A STORY WITH A MORAL.

“ Any tiling over, Ben?” “ Not a dollar; I just paid a bill for advertising, which pretty much cleared me out.” “ How much?” “ Forty-two dollars and seventy-five cents.” “ Ben, I don’t like to tell you that you are the biggest fool on the street, but you are.” “Wait, Joe, and see,” returned the other, with a confident smile. “ Forty-two dollars for advertising!” “ Just so, and for three month's advertising.” The applicant for “ anything over” gave a peculiar whistle to define the length, breadth and depth of his astonishment. This conversation occurred in the store of Benjamin Weston, a young and enterprising merchant, who had just commenced business on his own account. The other person, who, to use his own, classic expression, was “ bang up,” and wanted fifty dollars to make up the amount of a note due that day, was Joseph Weston, a cousin of the other. They had been playmates in youth and staunch friends in maturity. Though there was a great diversity of opinion on many topics, a great sympathy existed between them. They had commenced business about the same time, and under nearly the same circumstances, both being obliged for want of sufficient capital to mortgage the stock of their respective stores. Thus far they had done well, and the prospect was that both would become wealthy and distinguished merchants. They had married sisters and occupied tenements in the same block. Their houses were furnished in substantially the same style, and no material difference of expenditure. Both had besa brought up to business habits, and educated in the prihcinles of a rigid economy. “Forty-two dollars for advertising!” repeated Joe. “And if I had money to spare I would spend double that sum,” replied Benjamin. “What benefit do you expect to realize from it?” “You are behind the time, Joe. Benefit ? What a question! I expect to make my fortune by it.” “Humbug!” “Look at Brandeth and Swain.” “Both humbugs.” “No matter tor that; if these fellows have bo tli been able to make princely fortunes by advertising humbugs, how much more so will he who deals in substantial realities?”

“All gammon!” “We differ; time will tell who is in the* right.” “Seriously, Ben, you will ruin yourself if yoM keep on in this manner. Forty-two dollars a quarter for advertising!” “I shall spend a hundred the next quarter!” “Don’t do it, Ben.” “jlow does it happen, Joe, that you are in the street borrowing money? I never did such a thing since 1 commenced business.” “How does it happen, Ben, that you haven’t any money to lend ?” asked Joe, with a smile. “Because I have spent it all in advertising.” “Better have spent it for operas and 2.40 s.” “Wait, Joe, wait.” “I spent nothing for advertising, but I will bet you the oysters my sales are as large as yours for the last quarter.” *..! w ill take you up on the next quar- “ Why not on the last?” 1 Advertising is something like planting potatoes; you must wait for tb* crop.”

“ Don’t believe It, Ben. When I have a fifty-spot that I don’t know what to do with, I shall put it into my family.' Buy n library, a new sofa, or something of that sort. I should rather go to the White Mountains with it than throw it away on the newspapers.” 44 You do not know your own interest, Joe.” , 44 Don’t It Some kind of business might thrive on advertising, but oure, never. Do you believe the women look in the newspapers before they go shopping?” 44 Well, there was a lady in here just now whp said she saw such and such goods advertised by me.” 44 Pshaw! and on the strength of that you intend to spend fifty dollars more in advertising? Ben, you are crazy! and Joseph Weston turned on his heel and left the store assured in his own mind that his friend was going to ruin. In his estimation such loose principles would eventually bring him to bankruptcy. But Ben was his friend, and he deeply commiserated ldm because he clung to such pernicious doctrines.

Business prospered with the young men. By prudent and careful management, each had not only made a living, hut had been able to pay a small portion of tire mortgage on the stock at the end of the first year. * Joseph had the advantage of his friend in possessing a better location; though his rent was somewhat higher, the difference was more than compensated by the increased facilities it afforaed him. The prospect was decidedly bright to him. If his business increased, as it had done, he would be enabled to clear himself of debt in another year. Under this encouraging aspect he ventured to spend one hundred dollars in addition to his furniture, which his wife insisted was absolutely necessary for their comfort and happiness. The house had been furnished altogether too plain for this progressive age, in her estimation. She was Dehind some of her friends, who, she was sure, was doing no better than her husband. Joseph was a little obstinate at first, but then there was something so decidedly comfortable in a set of stuffed chairs and a lounge that he did not hold out in his opposition. He was doing well, and the expenditure would not seriously embarrass him. With a. nice new Brussells carpet and the new furniture, Mr. Weston’s little parlor looked exceedingly pleasant and comfortable. Besides, it looked as though her husband was prospering in his business. It was so nice that the young wife could not bear the idea of having the parlor shut up so that no one could see it till the furniture had grown rusty, and consequently she made up her mind that they must have a party. Their friends had parties, wliy shouldn’t they? It looked stingy not to have one. Mrs. Weston was an eloquent debater, and she gained the day in this matter. It is true the party was not a very extravagant affair, but it cost Joe fifty dollars. In the meantime Benjamin had spent quite as much for advertising as his friend had for new furniture ana the party. Joseph laughed at him, and finally came to believe that he was insane and would come to ruin in a year. Mrs. Ben Weston, too, felt decidedly unpleasant about the improvements which had been going on in her sister’s house. 41 Why can’t we have a rosewood table and a set of stuffed chairs, Benjamin?” asked she, pouting her pretty lips into a very unamiable position. 44 Simply, my dear, because I cannot afford it,” replied the philosophical merchant. 44 How can Joe afford it?” ‘‘l presume he knows his own business best.”

“ He has put over SIOO into his house.” Ben whistled and made no reply. “ Do, Ben, buy some new chairs.” “ Can’t afford it.” “ Yes, you can.” “ No, I can’t.” “You can afford it as well as Joe.” “Perhaps I can.” “ Do buy some.” “I should be very glad to gratify you, but I cannot take the money from my business. A year hence, if business prospers with me, you shall have them.” “A year hence,” pouted the wife. Li “I must spend a hundred dollars in advertising the next quarter.” “Very foolish.” “Very foolish, my dear, but it must be done.” “That’s the way you throw your money away. You don’t catch Joe to do such a thing as that.” “True; but though he has the advantage of having a corner store, I paid three hundred dollars more on my mortgage than he did.” “Then you can afford the table and chairs.” “Nay, my dear, I will not spend a dollar for superfluities while I am in debt.” Mrs. Ben Weston felt very badly about it, but her husband was firm, and she was forced to content herself with plain furniture. Mrs. Joe Weston enjoyed her nice parlor till the novelty wore away, and then she discovered that there were a great many other articles wanted to make things look uniform. The two windows must have drapery curtains, a pier glass was needed, and some pictures were wanted to relieve the walls. Her husband, who had once exceeded the limit of his means, found no difficulty in doing so again, and the things were bought.

But Joe had some scruples about it—his notes began to be troublesome, aqd every day he was in the street borrowing money. His business, too, had not piet his expectations. Instead of increasing in the ratio of the first year’s experience it hardly held its own, and the poor fellow began to have serious misgivings about the future. Before the year had half expired he was obliged to introduce a rigid system of retrenchment into his family and business affairs, in order to keep his expenses within his means. Another year has passed away in the business experiences of the young merchants. The books had been balanced, and the result stood in black and white before them. Ben had followed up his system of advertising through the year. He had expended large sums, but made the outlay with judgment and discretion. The result exceeded his most sanguine expectations. His store was continually crowded with customers, with genuine bona fide customers, and with but a small proportion of gadders and fancy shoppers. The newspapers had borne to the best families in tire city and country full descriptions of his stock. His name was as familiar as “ household words’' in the dwelling of the rich and poor, of the farmer, the mechanic and laborer.

Truly, the harvest was abundant, Ben rubbed his hands with delight as he cast his eyes over the figures that conveyed to him the pleasing result of his year’s operations. He had the means not only of clearing himself of debt, but also of gratifying his wife by giving her all the new furniture .she required, besides a handsome surplus with which to increase business. The new furniture was bought and set up; every debt was discharged, the importers and jobbers were eager to give him unlimited credit. One day while he was ruminating on this pleasant state of affairs, Joe Weston entered the store. For some months past the intercourse between the young merchants had not been as cordial as formerly. Joe’s nice things had rather “set him up,” some of the upper ten had condescended tp visit him, and he attended the “Almack” parties with his wife. He was getting ahead fast in his own estimation, and cherished supreme contempt for the slow motion of his friend. But when, in the middle of the year, he found himself running down hill, and discovered that Ben’s store was crowded yitli shoppers while his own was empty, a feeling of envy took possession of him. Ben must be underselling, and sooner or later the consequences would appear. The prosperous merchant could not but notice the dejected mien of his friend, as he entered the store. 44 How are you, Joe ? You are almost a stranger, lately. Where do you keep yourself?” asked'Ben. ‘'Business, Ben,business!” replied Joe, demurely. 44 Good! business before pleasure.” ‘‘Anything over to-day?” asked Joe; but the query was not put in that elastic tone which had distinguished him in former days. *• A trifle; how much do you want?” replied Ben, promptly. . 44 To tell the truth, I am 4 bang up;’ have a note for two hundred to pay, ana I have not raised the first dollar toward it.” 44 You are late, it is half-past one,’’ replied Ben, consulting his watch. “ Ben, I am in a tight place..” said Joe, in a low, solemn tone. “Indeed! I am sorry to hear it,” and Ben’s face wore an expression of sincere sympathy. “It is nothing serious, I hope.” “ I am afraid so.” 44 What can I do for you?” and the young man took down his check-book and examined the state of his bank account. “ I can give you a check for three hundred if that will do you any good,” he continued, taking up the pen to fill up the blank. “Thank you, Ben, you are very kind, but I don’t know as I ought to take it.” 44 Not take it! Why not?” “If I should pay this note, there is hardly a possibility tliat I could get thro’ the month?”

“So bad as that? ’Pon my word I’m sorry to hear it.” “ Smith & Jones advise me to make an assignment.” “ How docs it happen? I thought you were doing well.” “ Business hqs been very dull for the last six months. Haven’t you found it so?” - “Well, no, it has been driving with me.” ‘ Joe knew it had; indeed his present visit was not to borrow money, but to prepare his friend for the “smash” which was now unavoidable. “My sales have been light,” continued he. “ I can’t account for it.” “lean; look here, Joe.” Ben took down his ledger and pointed to the account “ Charge,” where the sums paid for advertising had been entered. On a slip of paper he had footed them up. “Five hundred and sixty-five dollars for advertising, Joe! That’s what did the business.” Joe was astonished. It was as much ashe had paid for fine things for his home, and for parties and the opera; but the investment had been vastly more profitable, inasmuch as taken in connection with the careful management of his business, and his economical manner of living, it had laid the foundation of his future fortune. It had given him a good start in business, and a good beginning is half the battle. Joe Weston failed, and paid twenty cents on a dollar. His fine furniture was sold, and he was obliged to board out. But jn his extremity Sen was his true friend. He received him into his house, and when his business was settled up, took him into partnership. The firm is now one of the most respectable and prosperous in the city, Joe, ever since he was “bang up,” having become a believer in advertising.”

INCIDENTS AND ACCIDENTS.

—The potato-bug has had a good deal of mischief laid at" its door, but the worst charge of all is that he has bit a woman at Kingston, R. 1., and given her the lockjaw. —A brave Colorado girl placed herself the other day between her brother and a howling mob who thirsted for his blood. Whenever a revolver was pointed at his body she interposed, and so protected him until the arrival of the Sheriff. —Lightning is said to have played a curious freak in Stow, Mass., lately. Entering by the ceiling, a room twelve feetsquare, where six young women were seated about the tfall, it dropped on the center of the floor in a ball, and exploded with a loud report, and volumes of sulphurous smoke but injuring nobody, and not even burning tho carpet. —Brooklyn coroners have an easy time of it. An infirm old man called at the office of one and informed the official that he had come to have an inquest held on his body. When reminded that the coroner sat only on the dead and not on the living, he sadly assented to the truth of the statement, but said he was going to die in a few hours and it would save the coroner time and trouble to hold the inquest at once. Examination showed tha want of food had crazed the old man, and he was turned over to the Charity Commissioners for the. few remaining hours of his life. —A few days ago a man drove his horse to the "Winslow House,” half way up Kearsarge Mountain, and tying him under the stable went to the top of the mountain. The horse stood there all day with nothing to eat. The man came down at night, and was about starting off, when the landlord put in an appearance and demanded fifty cents. What for?” said the man. “ For cruelty to animals,” replied the landlord, “ in leaving your horse all day under my stable with nothing to eat. If you had done it in Massachusetts they would have fined you twenty dollars.” The man paid his half dollar and drove down the mountain. a gentleman friend went up on the inclined plane to view the city from Mount t ' ■ ; ...

Adams. While they were walking about 3 near the edge of the hill a ruffian ed up behind them, knocked the gentleman with a sluug-shot on the back of the head senseless to the ground, commanding her to keep silent, or he would shoot her; then he conunenccd searching the gentleman’s pockets. She, viewing the situation at once, and with wonderful presence-of mine, pushed the villain over the bill into the ravine below. Then she did all she could to restore her escort to consciousness sufficient to be taken home. The desperado was picked up by twq policemen, considerably bruised, who were unaware of the tragic circumstances until too late to recapture him. —Cincinnati Gazette:

Ozone—What is it?

A certain seaside town has been considerably puffed into notoriety as a suitable resort for persons seeking health, on account of the quantity of ozono in the atmosphere. We will not dispute the fact, hut it may be doubted whether one seaside town more than another naturally possesses any specially large amount of ozone. Wnat, however, is ozone? That is a question more easily asked than answered. It appears to be a highly concentrated condition of the oxygen which forms the peculiarly vital part of the atmosphere, and is pn xinced through electrical agency. The mecnanical action of pure air over vegetation is productive of ozone, but still more manifestly is this subtle quality produced by the dashing of waves and spray against the air. These lashings of air ana sea mixed are, electrically speaking, in the nature of one substance rubbing on another. They evoke ozone, which, being inhaled in breathing, gives a stimulus to the constitution. Hence the benefit to health from a sea voyage, or a residence at a pleasant sea-side resort. Mr. Binney stated, at a recent meeting of the Manchester (England) Literary and Philosophical Society, that the atmosphere of towns may be sensibly ozonized, and of course improved in quality by the action of public fountains. He says: “ A water fountain may be regarded as a hydro-electric machine, the friction of the water issuing through the jets developing electric action, materially assisted by the conversion of the spray into aqueous vapor. I would suggest that this tact should be prominently brought before municipal bodies, to induce them to erect fountains in all available places in large cities, as sanitary agents. They might prove highly beneficial in crowded localities. ” It need only be added that the delicate and wholesome freshness of the air after & rattling thunder shower in summer is very much due to the development of ozone. The subject of ozone, in its various phases, is at present engaging the attention of scientific inquirers, and we may soon hear more about it. —Scientific American.

The Heart.

From a recent review of Rev. Dr. Houghton’s experiments regarding the muscular force exerted by the human heart, we condense as follows: The heart is composed of innumerable muscular fibers, arranged like two balls of twine, each with a cavity in its center, and both completely enveloped in a third ball. These fibers are, however, not continuous as in the case oi twine wound in a ball, but work independently. By calculating the force exerted by these fibers when either contracted or extended, and expressing the result in “ foot tons” that is the force required to lift a ton to the height of one foot—it appeal’s that the daily work of the left ventricle alone, which lifts at each stroke three ounces of blood through a height of 9,923 feet, is equal to about 89,703 foot-tons. Estimating the relative power of the rightventricle to that of the left in the proportion of five to thirteen, the total daily work ofboth is 724,208 foot-tons. Although the average weight of the heart is about 9.36 ounces, the work done by it in a given time exceeds that accomplished by all other muscles exercised in a boat race during the same period. Helmholz, the German physicist, proved that the heart could raise its own weight 20,280 feet in an hour, while the best locomotive engine could only raise its own weight 2,700 feet in the same time. An active climber, with the full exercise of all the needed muscles, could only accomplish 9,000 feet in nine hours, or one-twentieth the work done by the heart.

Eating Bread and Milk with Lime Water.

Milk and lime water are now frequently prescribed by physicians in cases of dyspepsia and weakness of the stomach, and in some cases, to our knowledge, tire diet has proved very beneficial. Many persons who think good bread and milk a great luxury frequently hesitate to eat it, for the reason that the milk will not digest readily. Sourness of the stomach will often follow. But the experience of many will testify that limewater and milk is not only foodand medicine at an early period of life, but also at a later, when, as in the case of infants, the functions of digestion and assimilation have been seriously impaired. A stomach taxed by gluttony, irritated by improper food, inflamed by alcohol, enfeebled by disease, or other, wise unfitted for its duties, as is shown by the various symptoms attendant upon indigestion, dyspepsia, diarrhea, dysentery, and fever, will resume its work and do it energetically on an exclusive diet of bread and milk and lime water. A goblet of cow’s milk, to which four tablespoonfuls of lime water have been added, will agree with almost any person, will be agreeable to the stomach when other footl is oppressive, and will be digested when all else fails to afford nourishment. The way to make lime water is to procure a few lumps of unslaked lime, put the lime in a stone jar, add water until the lime is slaked and is about the consistence of thin cream. The lime will soon settle and leave a clear and pure liquid at the top, which is lime water. As the water is taken out more should be added, and the lime should be frequently stirred up and allowed to settle.— Scientific American.

Thk Black Hills Pioneer states that there is an extensive horse-stealing organization in the Hills, some members of which make Deadwood their headquarters. The plan is to steal horses in the diggings and run them off to confederates, a chain of whom is stretched between the diggings and the railroad towns. The crime is then charged against raiding parties of Indians. The temperature of the Hoosac Tunnel is about the same all the year round, the thermometer standing generally at sixty degrees. The air is pure except when there are a great many trains going through, filling the tunnel with smoke; yet, notwithstanding that, there is now no doubt about the tunnel’s being able to thoroughly ventilate itself. Two eggs, which had been left in a nest by a discouraged duck at Oneida. N. Y., a few days ago, were subsequently hatched out by .the hot weather.

CENTENNIALITIES.

—The next convention of the chief en gineers of the fire departments of the United States will be held in Philadelphia Sept. 1. . 1 —By a note from Burnet Lanilreth, Chief of Bureau of Agriculture, It appearatliatas early as July 14th, applies tions for 9,500 dishes for fruit had been made.for the great Centennial Exhibition of Sept. 11—10 at Philadelphia. “This, ladies,” said a Centennial showman in the zoological department, “ this is the wild duck; a fowl of Well-known migrations habits.” “Migrations, let’s have a look at him,” screamed an old lady In the back part of the crowd.

—According to the statistics presented at the Centennial Exposition by the Department of Agriculture, there are 1,668,900 sheep in lowa, while there are 6,760,000 in California, and 4,546,000 in Ohio. Only six States ahead of lowa, which has 800,000 more than Illinois, 400,000 more than Indiana, and about the same ahead of M issouri . —lowa State Register. , —The Philadelphia Timet, in an elaborate statistical article,puts down the worth of fine Centennial show as follows: Buildings, $5,949,000, contents, $97,342,350; total, $104,820,840. A large proportion of the exhibits are articles which, while having little or no intrinsic value, could not be purchased probably for all that the rest of the Exhibition i 3 worth, they being regarded as invaluable for their antiquity, the remembrances wliich they recall, or the rare occurrence of their kind. Such exhibits the above figures do not take into account.

—The “ cynophere” is the latest novelty for which the Centennial Exhibition stands sponsor. It is not exactly a “ dogbearer,” as its etymology suggests, though the fact that the dogs are passengers as well as motive power makes the name passably appropriate. It is a three wheeled vehicle, two of the wheels being simply small treadmills operated by dogs, while the third is placed In front for a guide. The inventor, who is a Frenchman, claims that twelve miles an hour can be made easily with a dog in each wheel, and the enthusiastic ones predict that the “cynophere” will speeaily eclipse the velocipede and press the pony carriage very hard —One of the boys, while reading Whittier’s “ Centennial Hymn” yesterday to a little circle in the back room of a certain business house in the city, was interrupted with: “What! Old Whittaker writing hymns ? Well, well! "Why, I knew the old feller in ’49 in ’Frisco, and a harder, tougher, tightener cuss you never saw. S’posed he’d passed in his checks long fego. And he’s alive, is he, and writing hymns? Well! well! If old Whit can get away with hymns, bust me if I don’t commence writing missionary tracts.” Then the old “forty-niner” gazed with astonishment upon the smiling features of those around him, and proposed' “licking” anyone who doubted his knowing “ Old Whit” in “ ’Frisco” in ’4B.— Helena (Mont.) Herald.

Death on the Stage.

Now that the simulation of death on the stage is a matter of every-day conversation, it may not be out of place to glance at a few of the many cases where death, or at least its sudden approach, has occurred on the stage, often from excess of feeling, or the excitement in the realization of character. Peg Woffington, acting Rosalind (May 8,1757), became paralyzed on uttering the words in the epilogne: “I’d kiss as many of yon as had beards that pleased me.”

More famous was the case of John Palmer, the actor. He had a wife and eight children, to whom he was much attached ; but within a short period of time Mrs. Palmer and a favorite soa both died, and the shock greatly affected the unfortunate widower’s nervous system. On Aug. 2,1778, he was playing* the principal role in Benjamin Thompson’s translation of Kotzbue’s play, “The Stranger,” at Liverpool, and in the fourth act he had answered, “I love her still,” to the query of Baron Steinfort (Whitfield) respecting his wife; and then, to the question as to his children, he gave the reply, “I left them at a small town hard by;” but the words, falteringly uttered, had scarcely his lips when he fell dead at Whitfield’s feet. We read in Doran’s “Their Majesty’s Servants” that to support the theory of some pious persons the story was invented that Palmer was stricken after uttering the quotation, “There is another and a better world!’' Palmer, the original Joseph Surface, was a great actor in his day. A tablet, inscribed with his last reputed words, has been erected to his memory in the churchyard of Walton, near Liverpool. Another remarkable case of the same kind is that of Moliere. He was acting the sick man in “ The Malade Imaginaire,” and on the fourth night of the run he appeared weak and ill. When he came to the place where he was supposed to fall dead on the stage, he acted the part so naturally that even the audience became alarmed. He was at once carried to his house in the Rue Richelieu, and before his friends could be summoned he expired in the arms of two strange priests who were lodging on the floor above and who were hastily called in. A striking case in point was that of Moody, the actor. He was performing Claudio in “ Measure for Measure.” When Isabella commanded him to prepare for execution, and he began to answer: “ Ah! but to die and go we know not where!” he fainted, and shortly afterward died before he could be carried from the stage. Samuel Foote was seized with paralysis, in 1777, while acting in his comedy, “The Devil Upon Two Sticks.” He rallied, spent the summer at Brighton, and was ordered by his physicians to France. But at Dover he was seized with a shivering fit while at breakfast, and breathed his last in the course of the afternoon, Oct. 21, 1777. Edmund Kean, too, maybe said to have died in armor. He appeared for the last time as Otlullo, and, in the passage beginning: “O, now, forever, farewell, the tranquil mind! Farewell, content!” his articulation gradually died away, and he whispered to his son: “Speak to them, Charles, I am dying.” A more recent instance may be mentioned in the case of Harley, whose last .words marked his identity with the old Shakespearian drolls. Though not actually dying on the stage, he was conveyed from the theater in a state of insensibility, after playing Launcdot Gobbo, when he quoted Bottom's words: “ 1 have an exposition of sleep come over me,.” and from that moment remained speechless to the end Poor Clara Webster was fatally burned on the stage Of Drury Lane Theater during thebajlet; while old play-goers may remember that Mrs. Glover was speechless on the occasion of her farewell ben-

Morte, when he suddenly fell down dead. Miss Maria Linley expired at Baib in September, 1874, white singing “I know that my Redeemer llveth.” Cummins fell dead upon the stage Jane 20, 1817, while performing the part of Dumont (Shore) in Rowe’s tragedy 44 Jane Shore,” Just as he had uttered the benedictory words at the close of the piece : Be witness for me, ye celestial hosts, Stich mercy and *ocb pardon as my »onl Accord* to thee, and beg* of bee von to ahow thee, hay such befell me at my latest boar. Mr. James Bland, well known for his clever assumption of the monarch* in Mr. Blanche's extravaganzas, expired at the stage door of the Strand Theater immediately after entering for the purpose of discharging his professional duties; whilst Mr. Barrete, a recent talented actor of old men’s parts, died in a cab that was conveying him home, he having played in ..a farce, and being afterward dressed for Polonies. Poor Janies Rogers may almost be said to have died on the stage in-1863. He continued to exert his mirth-creating powers to the very last, and when his powers were absolutely exhausted. On the evening before his death he had straggled through the part of Ejfie Deane, in a travestie at the St. James Theater, and on his return he was so completely exhausted that he was unable to make any further effort, and rested in an arm-chair throughout the night without taking his clothes off. The next morning, fancying he had recovered a little, he took his violin and played over a song he was going to introduce into the burlesque; but as the day advanced he became so weak, and breathed with such difficulty, that he felt compelled to send a message to the theater stating that he should be unable to play. Clasping his wife’s hands, and turning to a friend, he said, with a feeble effort to cheer them with a smile, and in his peculiarly characteristic manner, “The little rafHelsover,” and soon after expired. The last words suggested to Mr. E. L. Blanchard the following lines: “The** were the last words flowing Forth from the actor’* breath. The Jester who to d life’* story In the ear of the listener—Death. * , “The Raffle of Life soon over. And though others a chance renew, The blooks still go to the many, The prizes falx to the few. “Raffle the dloel Who’s highest? Come take yonr turn for a throw; Perchance yon may tmn np the highest, Perchance yon may get bat the low. “We throw, bnt ill-fortune may baffle The hand and the hope and the ere; With a chance for ns all in the Raffle, The only thing sere la the die.” Similar cases ore not at all uncommon. Hughes died oh hearing of the success of his play, “The Siege of Damascusand more than one Roman tragedian is reported to have died on the Btage.— Exchange.

How a Brave Woman Drove off a Burglar.

Dr. Terry’s residence is a magnificent brown stone structure, with splendid grounds, situated on Washington arenue, near Fulton street, one of the most attractive and aristocratic sites in the city. The burglary and subsequent developments occurred last Friday eveniqg, just at dark. It appears that Mrs. Terry’s four children have been absent in the country during the summer, but she preferred to remain at home with her husband. A few days ago the servant girl was granted a few days’ vacation, and also repaired to the rural districts, leaving the physician and his lady alone in the house. Dr. Terry was out making calls on his patients Friday evening, as usual, while his wife busied herself with some embroidery in her apartments on the second floor of the elegantly furnished house. The atmosphere was warm, and in order to gain the advantage of a fresh draught of air, the lady had the doors leading from her sitting and sleeping rooms into the hall, wide open. A few minutes before seven o’clock she was startled by a noise down stairs, and after listening intently for a moment, she concluded that there might be a thief in the house. Her first impression was to close and lock the doors, which she did. She then looked about for some means of defense, and recollecting that her husband’s revolver, a handsome silver-plated Smith & Wesson seven shooter, was in the drawer of her bureau, she secured it and placed it in her pocket. As she was about to open the door for a further examination of the premises, the door-bell rang and a gentleman friend called. Mrs. Teny thought she might have made a mistake about the noise she had heard, but while her friend was in the parlor she took an opportunity to remove her solid silver from the dining-room sideboard to her own apartment. After a few minutes’ chat the gentleman went away, and Mrs. Terry, feeling reassured, again went up to her sittingroom. She had hardly taken up her work when she heard a heavy footfall, followed by the noise of the stairs creaking. Brave as a lioness, she hastened into the hall with the revolver in her hand. On the lower part of the stairway stood a short, thick-set man, with a sandy mustache. He wore a black silk cap, and in his hand he carried a bar of iron which looked like a jimmy: The lady and the housebreaker looked at each other a moment and then the man made a movement as if he would ascend the stairs. “Where are you going?” asked Mrs. Teny. “1 ’m going up those stain,” replie the fellow with an oath. Mrs. Terry quickly pointed the revolver at him, and, as her eye glanced along the glittering barrel, she said: “ You come another step and I’ll shoot you.” . : : The burglar swore a frightful oath, but he stood still, and after a moment’s hesitation, retreated into the street. An alarm was at once raised by Mrs. Terry, who pursued the thief to the front door, but he succeeded in effecting his escape. An examination of the premises disclosed the fact that he had effected an entrance by breaking into the rear cellar. He had quite a collection of silver plated ware piled upon the. kitchen table in readiness for removal. —Brooklyn {N. T.) Eagle. ,

—Considerable so-called slang is classic. “ Escaped with the skin of my teeth” is from Job. “Heis a brick” is from Plutarch. That hi dorian tells of a King of Sparta who boasted that his army was the only wall of the city—“and every man is a brick.” We call a fair and honest pan “a square man,” but the Greeks described the same person as Tetragonos —“ a fourcornered man.” —The late Miss Martineau saved her memory from the injustice of the biographer by having her autobiography put in type and corrected before her death. She also left by her will an injunction against the publication of any of her private letters.