Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 May 1877 — Page 6

Wonderful feats of the Horse.

•otM^lfcelr>oiwr*ef''simulation with a view to entertain spectators went (hr beyond what anyone could expect whose knowledge is confined to the ordinary daw of tones. We will mention a few paiticalan regarding the hones of Antley's as they occur to our memory. One evening the performance represent od a house on (ire. All the inhabitants of the dwelling had managed to escape except a lady tn the upper story. You saw her at a window throwing about her arms wildly, and screaming for help. Her appeals to the assembled crowd 'beneath wore heart-rending. The firemen could not reach her, for the stair was seemingly in s blaze, and there was no fire-escape. The spectators in the theater wgre wrought up to an agony, it being but too evident that the poor lady was doomed to perish by s painful and violent death. In the midst of the commotion a horse, which belonged to the lady, rushed upon the stage. In its stable it bad heard the screams of its mistress, and hastened to do Us best to save her. Without bridle or saddle it was seen to rush into the house and to climb the stair amidst flames and volumes of smoke. It reached the apartment where the lady was. She mounted on iu back, holding by the mane, and the horse, descending the stair, brought her safety to the ground. Prolonged shouts of applause rewarded the hazardous exploit. The whole thing was a beautiful piece of acting, evoking throughout sentiments of pleasure and admiration. Nothing but kindness and long training could have made the horse so clever in knowing what to do, and to do it well. The feat was the more surprising as horses usually havs a dread of fire which is not easily conquered. It will l>e under*to id that the tire bad been so adroitly managed as to effect no injury oc the theater; and there never had been any real danger. On another evening at Astley's a still more remarkable piece of acting by a white horse named Prince was offered for public entertainment. It was in a play called the “High-Mettled Racer.” The pl y was ia several successive acts, and designed to represent different stages of degradation in the career of a horse from youth to old age. The spectacle was painful but touching, and unfortunately in too many cases true to nature. We shall endeavor to describe some of the scenes. When die piece opens we have a view of an English country mansion. In front there are several mounted huntsmen in scarlet coats ready to set out on a foxchase. They are waiting till a young lady comes out of the mansion to accompany them. We see the lady, who is oroperly equipped for riding, descend the steps at the doorway, and by the aid of a groom mount a young and beautifullyshaped white horse that is in readiness for her. tihe speaks to it affectionately, and calls it her dear Prince. The elegant form of the animal, its proud hearing, its glossy coat, and the spirited way It prances about, excite general admiration. After a little galloping to show its paces, the home with its fair rider goes oil' with the huntsmen and hounds in pursuit of a fox—that was also a taught actor in its way—-which leads the party through a variety of difficulties, such as climbing up rocks, leaping over hedges, and so forth, till at length, on the point of being run down, it dashes into the cottage of a poor oid woman, who humanely gives it shelter. Site takes up the for lovingly in her arms and saves it from seemingly impending destruction. That may be called the first stage in the horse’s career, during which rtince4*as well attended to and happy.

At the beginning of the next act the horse is to appearance several years older, and is no longer lit for racing or hunting. The lady, its first owner, had been, from some circumstances, compelled to part with it. From its swiftness in run ning it had been purchased to ran at celebrated Lor se-races, at which it had, bn several occasions, won prizes, and its sprightliness obtained for it the name of the iligh-Mi tiled Racer. Alter this, it was transferred from one owner to another, always in a descending scale, un til poor Prince is seen in the condition of a cab-horse in the streets of London. It has somewhat the look of its former state, but is terribly broken down in figure and spirit. Its plump and glossy appearance is gone. It is dirty and dejected, it hangs its head droopingly down. Its ribs shine through its skin. Its joints are stiff. It stands on three legs, with the other leg resting on the point at the foot, just as we see cab-horses trying to rest their aching limbs when standing in a row for hire. What a wretched downcome from that which Prince had enjoyed in “life's young dream!” There awaits it, however. a still lower depth of miseiy.

in the following act Prince is reduced to the forlorn condition of drawing a sand cart, when it can hardly draw its own legs after it To appearance it is half-starved. A child offers it a few straws, which it is glad to eat. It seems to be a little better than skin and bone. The cart in which it is yoked belongs to a rode jobber, whose object is to wring the utmost possible work out of the animal before selling it to be killed. A, feeling of horror and compassion thrills through the spectators. They can hardfr believe that they are onh looking at a play, for the simulation is perfect. Staggering along with its draught, under the cruel urging of the whip, the moment arrivos when Prince can go uo farther, its unhappy span of life is terminated. If suddenly drops down under its weary load—to die and be relieved of all its troubles. Unyoked from the cart, and relieved of its harness, there it is stretched out, with a crowd of idlers about it, seemingly in the last gasp, and offering in its fate a dreadful instance of undeserved cruelty to animals. “ Man's inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn." Qoitetrae;but, alas! inhuman aty to man is nothing in compnrison with -the inhumanity which to recklessly exercised Seward the hone. -if?" > There to a concluding scene in the life of the horse we have been describing which must on no account be omitted. While lying in'tbe street in its deathstruggle, and when preparations were to drag it off to the shambles, a lady who is passing recognizes the dying animal as being her favorite hone Prince, which she hud ridden yean ago at the fox-chase. At the same time the poor husLfaintly lifting his head, recognizes its old mistress, abd with failing eyes seems to implore her compassion. In a “* nr “»J fi. i; Iter dear Prince. O, what would she not aa to revive the dying animal, and give

Prince a new lease of existence! Just at Ibis juncture, In the manner of the olu plays, when something supernatural was required to get over a serious difficulty, a sylph-like being in toe character of a benevolent faiiy appears on the stage carrying a magic wand. Her mission, she says, being to redress wrung, she touches the dying hone with her wand and bids it rise. In an Instant Prince starts up from its recumbent position* and to the delight and amassment of everybody, It la as fresh, glossy and beautiful as when it went out with the bounds in the foxchase. The Sady springs upon its back, and off Prince goes at a splendid gallop. The applause was, of course, immense! Perhaps in the whole annals of horsemanship there was never demonstrated a more wonderful case of acting. The horse had all along been feigning for public amusement. It had feigned to be a cabhorse. It had feigned to be tired whan it stood on three legs. It feigned to be dying when it dropped down in the sandcart. The whole affair was a piece of simulation, and by means of some adventitious aid in discoloring the skin the deception was complete. A hasty rub with a cloth ptKs it all to rights; and instead of dying, Prince gallops off in the consciousness of having performed a brilliant piede of acting. What we have narrated from recollection will assist in illustrating the natural intelligence of tbe horse, and the extent to which it can be educated by patient and gentle training. Harsh treatment would be all a mistake. Words kindly spoken, some small reward in the shape of a mouthful of what is agreeable —a trifling sweetmeat for instance-^-will work wouders in forming the character of the horse, and teaching it to perform any required feat. We always thought that an impressive moral lesson was conveyed in the play of the “ High-Mettled Racer." — Chambers' Journal.

"Reading Maketh a Full Man.”

So Mucn of Bacon’s celebrated aphorism at least Is generally admitted. There are but few parents who have not a measure of conscious pride in the fact that each child of theirs has learned to read, and, possibly, has a taste for reading. Looking only upon one side of the matter, they picture to themselves the happy hours which these young people will enjoy over their books as new objects are continually presented before their eyes, and new truths enfolded to their minds. They imagine the unfailieg resources of delight this exercise will lurnish in lonely hours or times of rest. And the increase of ideas, too; for they think a well-spring of knowledge will be opened of things delectable and- instructive. “A book’s a book, although there’s nothing in it.” Few consider, as they ought, the character of the draught for which their children are acquiring a thirst. Boys must drink to grow; girls must drink to thrive; but is it not worth just one thought to what they drink ? Do we admire what we call " drinking” for its own sake? Just now, in tile midst of a so-called temperance revival, it may be wise to call attention to a suggestive remark in the New York Evangelist , which runs thus: “Our own impression is that our city boys and girls ‘ drink in’ more damaging draughts f rom their pictorial stoiy papers than from the corner saloons But few, comparatively, take the intoxicating cop; the mass read.” We quite understand that the responsibility involves a perplexity of care, and breaks up some welcome tranquillity, it is a relief to many a careworn and busy mother to have her family quietly settled for the evening over a story book.' Freed, for a blessed little hour, from their exhausting prattle or noisy play, she gives no anxious thought to the mental food they are devouring, if here and therq a grain Or two of clear poison is swallowed, she is ignorant of the fact. At any rate, she asks, piteously, “ How could I help it?" But a child, left to itself to select its own reading, will take to that first which attracts the eye. Its impressionable mind is like the unsown field, left to catch every chance seed. As surely as the one will grow tares and thorns, the other will be tempted and lured by the flashy but attractive literature constantly spread before it. That such vile stuff exists, and is thrust every day into the notice of us all, no one can doubt who will examine the stock in trade of almost every newsstand, or the Blielves of any second-class book-store. Buck “ literature ” is all the more harmful because its true character is not made apparent. It is glossed over; and, to make it acceptable, some of it hears the imprint of respectable publishing-houses. It has- just enough respectability about it to shield it from the hands of the law.— Chrutwn Weekly.

A Sensible Will.

The will of Rowland H. Macy, the rich New York merchant just deceased, is so novel, and withal so sensible, as to be worthy of more extended mention. It divides the entire property of the testator, some $500,000, between his widow and a married daughter, cutting off his only son with an income of SI,OOO a year, and a provision that he shall forfeit that if he contests the will. The ground of this action, ac the testator explicitly states, is that the son, although twenty-nine years of age, has never done anything for his own support, and is furthermore adronken and worthless fellow. Casesof disinheritance of this sort are common enough in novels, but occur, in this country at least, very rarely in real life. However the American parent may rage at the worthlessness or unfilial conduct of his children, he rarely has tho nerve to punish them by even a partial disinheritance. The bad children and the good inherit alike. It is a * question worthy consideration whether a good part of the unfilial conduct and contempt of parental authority which so deplorably distinguish American sons is not owing to their comfortable assurance that whatever they do will ’not affect their chances of inheritance, and whether a most desirable reform might not be effected by a little more discrimination in testamentary disposition of properly. If Mr. Macy’a prodigal son had anticipated the disinheritance he has suflered, he would very likely have thought it adviseble to hold up a little in his wayward courses. American youth are generally well endowed with a keen perception of the main chance, and it is a question for parents whether this perception might not be advantageously used to bolster up their deficient filial or moral principle. SprinqfieU [Hass.) Union. ■ r-“ Put out your tongue a little further,” said a physician to a fair invalid “A little further still, if you please.” "Why, doctor, do you think a woman's tongue has-no end 7” said the gentle sufferer. “An end, perhaps, madam,” replied the doctor, “ but no cessation.”

Results of a Secret Marriage.

A bkcknt cowhldiug scrape, in which a distinguished New York lawyer figures, has for its basis the terrible conseifuences which result from a young and wilful girl having her own way. For a couple of years past a young lady, the only daughter or a very wealthy man, has been a central figure in fashionable New York society. She was very handsome, not twenty years old, and the heiress to a large fortune. Of course, she was courted, flattered, followed. She organized a “ coterie,” of which she was made President. She received tbe attention of titled foreigners, and wa* the envied A her set. But one morning during the past winter the intelligence came like a shock that she was married, had been married a year, and to a worthless young fellow scarcely older than herself—poor, but already a drunkard and a gambler. The marriage ceremony was performed at the Mayor’s office, the infatuated girl having been made to believe that this was only a civil contract, and did not constitute a real marriAge, and that she could disavow it at the end of a year, during which time it was to be kept a profound secret. Before the year expired, however, the husband grew jealous, threatened, and finally claimed her, treating her parents with the most impertinent* rudeness, and, to her horror, the unhappy girl found herself tied for life to a person without ordinary decencv or manhood. Probably a divorce would have been obtained had it not been for the interference of the relatives of the young man (his family is a respectable one), who finally prevailed upon the parents of the girl to extend a sort of sanction to the marriage, w hich they did by issuing invitations to a grand parte, to which 300 guests were invited, of whom only fifty were present. A house was bought and furnished by the father of the bride, and the young people went to housekeeping. The other day the motner called, found that her daughter had been struck and beaten, and was summarily ordered down-stairs and out of the house by the scapegrace son-i D-law, who, mad with drink and rage, himself put her out, and told her never to darken At* doors again. The next day he was cowhided in the street by an indignant nephew of his mother-in-law and cousin of his wife, who is now out on bail. So much for a secret and hasty marriage. —Jennie Jane.

How the Choir Got Mixed.

You see, the tenor had got kind of abstracted, or restless, or something, during the long prayer, and was thinking about the European war, or the wheat corner last week, or something, and so, when the minister gave out hymn 231, on page 67, and the chorister whispered them to sing on page 117, it all came in on the tenor like a volley, and as he had only the playing of the symphony in which to make the necessary combination of time, hymn and page, he came to the front justa little bit disorganized, and his fingers sticking between eveiy leaf in the book. And the choir hadn’t faced the footlights half a minute before the congregation more than half-suspected something was wrong. For you see the soprano, in attempting to answer the trenzied whisper of the tenor in regard to the page, lost the first two or three words of the opening line herself, and that left the alto to start off alone, for the basso was so profoundly engaged in watching the tenor and wondering what ailed him, that he forgot to sing. The music wasn’t written for an alto solo, and consequently there wasn’t very much variety to that part, and after singing nearly through the first line aloLe, and receiving neither applause nor bouquets for one of the finest contralto efforts a Burlington or any other audience ever listened to, the alto stopped and looked reproachfully at the soprano, who had just plunged the tenor’s soul into a gulf of dark despair, by leaving him to find his way out of the labyrinth of tunes and pages and hymns* into which his own heedlessness liad led him, %y giving him a frantic shake of her head, which unsettled the new spring bonnet (just the sweetest duck of a "Normandy), to that extent that every woman in the’ congregation noticed it. All this time the organist was doing nobly, and the alto, recovering her spirits, sang another bar, which, for sweetness and tenacious adherence to the same note, all the way through, couldn’t be beat in America. By this time the bass had risen to the emergency, and sang two deep, guttural notes with profound expression, but as those of the congregation sitting nearest the choir could distinctly hear him sing “ Ho, ho!” to the proper music, it was painfully evidentthat the basso had the correct tune, but was running wild on the words. At this point the soprano got her time and started off with a couple of confident notes, high and clear as a bird song, and the congregation, inspired with an over-ready confidence, broke out on the last word of the verte with a discordant roar that rattled the globes on the big chandelier, and, as the verse closed with this triumphant outbreak, an expression of calm, restful satisfaction was observed to steal over the top of the paßtor’s head, which was all that could be seen of him, as he bowed himself behind the pulpit. The organist played an intricate and beautiful interlude without a tremor or a false note; not an uncertain touch to indicate that there was a particle of excitement in the choir, or that anything had gone wrong. The choir didn’texacUy appear to catch the organist's reassuring steadiness, for the basso led off the second verse by himself, and his deep-toned "Ho, hoi” was so perceptible throughout the sanctuary that several people started and looked down under the seats for a man, and one inherent sinner, near the door, thrust a felt hat into his mouth ai*i slid ont. The soprano got orders and started out only three or lour words behind time, but she hadn’t reached the first siding before she collided with a woman in the audience, running wild and trying to carry a new tune to the old words. And then, to make it worse, the soprano handed her book to the tenor, and pointed him to the tune on page 117 and the words on page 67, and if that unhappy man didn’t get his orders mixed, ana struck out on schedule time, with the tune on page 67 and the wordis on page 117, and in less than ten words ditched himself so badly that he was. laid out for the rest of the verse, and then he lost his place, handed the book back to the soprano, took the one she had and held it upside down; and no living man conid tell from his face what he was thinking of or trying to say. Meanwhile, the soprano, when the "books were so abruptly changed on her, did just what might have been expected, and telescoped two tones and sets of words Into each other with disastrous effect. The ajto was running smoothly along, passenger time, for the several wrecks gave her the track, so far. is it was clear, all to herself. The bfsso Who hsd slipped an eccentric and was only working one side, was rumbling cautiously along, clear off his own time, flagging himself every mile of the way

and asking for orders every time he got a chance. The pastor’s head wps observed to tremble with emotion, and the people sitting nearest tbe pulpit say they could distinctly hear sounds from behind it that resembled the syllables ”Te, lief” Aa the organist pulled and crowded and encouraged them along toward the closing line, it looked as mough public confidence might soon be restored and tbe panic abated, but, alas! as even the demoralized tenor rallied and came in with the full qnartette on the last line, a misguided man in the audience suddenly thought he recognized in the distracted tune an old, familiar acquaintance, and broke out in a joyous howl on something entirely different tLat inspired every singing man and woman in tun congregation with the same idea, and the hymn was finished in a terrific discord of sixty-nine different tunes, and the rent and mangled melody flapped and fluttered around the sacred edifice like a new kind of delirium tremens. and all the wrecking care on the line were started for the scene at once. The pastor deserves more praistf than can be crowded into a column of the Hawk-Eye for pronouncing tbe benediction with even, solemn, impressive tones and countenance.— Burlington Hawk-Eye.

Cruelty to Animals in Italy.

The fourth annual meeting of the Roman Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals was held recently, in Rome. The Marchioness DelGrillo, better known as Adelaide Ristori, is one of- the Board of Managers of this Society. The work of the Society has progressed rather slowly, and for two reasons: First, the imperfect state of the present law, and, secondly, the very unenlightened state of public opinion. One may commit any act of cruelty, whether publicly or in private, on animals which are not domestic. For instance, the small boys in Rome delight to wrap up a live mouse in cotton cloth well steeped in petroleum, then to set fire to it and indulge themselves and their trembling sweethearts with the spectacle of its agonies. The offense is not punishable, because tbe mouse is not a domestic animal. The same irrepressible youth may subject his grandmother’s cat to similar torture, and so long as lie does it in the back yaitf, or in the basement, or wherever you please, shut out from the general view, the outrage will enjoy the same immunity, while, if he gives poor pussy a public roasting, he can be punished for it. Most of the cattle brought to Rome for the market are kept without food or water for a period of twenty, thirty, sometimes forty hours before they are killed. This has arisen from the fact that the octroi duty, instead of being levied, as was the case four years ago, on each head ol cattle, is now exacted according to the weight of the slaughtered animal, so that the butcher believes it to be his interest to reduce the weight. Animals are certainly not in their norma] state of health when kept without food twenty»four hours, still less when the experiment is protracted to forty hours. There is no excuse for this, inasmuch as the Municipality of Home gives the butchers the benefit of a regular deduction of 20 per cent., supposed to represent the weight of the food which ought to be in the animal’s body. The Society and the Municipal Council have this matter under serious consideration. ,In the streets behind the Pantheon one may daily see exposed for sale miserable birds, which have had their eye-balls pierced with red-hot needles. These blind birds are employed as decoys to snare others of the feathery tribe. The action of the Society ha 9 been directed to put down this horrible practice. It is to the credit of the present Syndic of Naples that he has by order prohibited this barbarity.

Australian Cure for Sore Throat.

A correspondent of the Queenslander gives the following cure for sore throat : It cannot be too generally known that all forms of sore throat, whether simple, ulcerated, quinsy, diphtheria, scarlet-fever or otherwise, can be either totally cured or greatly alleviated by simply wearing a soft old silk kerchief twice round the neck, high up and next the skin, especially if worn at night when the pain is first felt. Like Naaman, the Syrian, people will take any trouble but ti.e right one, and fly to gargles, blisters, lotions, pills, etc., and to keep at them for a month at a time; but an old silk square—why, it’s too absurd; and so they hug their sore throat, and wonder why it don’t get better. Not only does the silk cure the sore throat, but it "prevents a recurrence of it. I was formerly a martyr to quinsy and ulcerated sore throat, and used to have a whole month of it regularly every winter, and in spite, too, of all the usual battery of pills, gargles, etc., It ran its course till I tried the silk; the sore throat then took the hint, and has,left me alone ever since as a bad customer. I invariably kill it within an hour of any attempt it makes upon me; an old sore throat will take & day to cure. Mind, Ido not pretend to say that the silk will cure fever or any other symptom or complication that may accompany sore throat; but this I do say, that it will cure and remove all pain and difficulty of swallowing in the throat without the aid of any local remedy; or it will do it in spite of them, if you do apply them and it both; but, without it. cure only comes by nature, not physic, as far .as the sore throat goes; other remedies are neither good nor harm, except as they keep you from trying the infallible sil£

Nerve Food.

In what does nerve food consist? In what do we find it? Is it meat? no; white bread? no; potatoes? no. If it is not found in these staples, in what is it to be found ? 1 answer, in the exterior of the white kernel, in the skin of the potato, and in milk, partially also in eggs and fish I answer, the chief food staples, in the present dietetic system, are almost entirely deficient in brain and nerve building material. In view of these facts, Is it a result to be wondered at that the starving nervous tissue in the overworked masses attempts to satisfy an intolerable sense of craving, of physical hunger, by the use of stimulating poisons, that temporarily supply the place of brain and nerve food? I answer, the cause of intemperance is based upon a fundamental error in the present dietetic system. Let it always be borne in mind that atimulat. ing brain poisons—alcohol, opium and tobacco—temporarily supply the place of brain and nerve food. What is the remedy for in'emperanco? I answer nerve food--building material to supply the waste of the nervous tissue in the masses I answer, farther, a reform in the presen popular system of dietetics, by reducing the proportion of fat and muscle-forming elements, and increasing the nerve and brain-building material In a proper ratio. Let the aupply in each case meet the demand, and no man.—Herald, of Health,

Youths’* Department. HOW MITIADKH WAS CUBED OF VANITY. JLrrruc Miltiades Petemik Paul, He let out for the achool-houae one morning in fall; And he looked very fine, nod he felt very vain. Aa with with whittle and aong he marched off down the lane; % For, you aee, he'd put ‘ oq, for the first time, today, Hie hnndeome new frock with ita colon eo gay. "Ah!" said he, “no one ever will guem, I am ■ure, It is made of a shawl that my grandmother wore.” As little Miltiades pamed by the stile, He met his two brothers, who oouldnot butamile When they saw him approach in hia gay-colored frock, As grand and aa vain as tbe old turkey-cock. So they stopped him a moment, and John Henry Jaok Slyly wrote, in large letters, with chalk, on the back Of little Miltiades Peterkin Paul: ' “ HU neto f made from hit grandmother’s shawl." Farther on, young Miltqldee Peterkin Paul Saw a little old gentleman perched on the wall, Who merrily shouted, “ Hi, hi! my fine fellow, That's a beautiful frock, sir—all red, green and yellow. Pray where did,yon get it?—O, now I perceive it Li made of an old shawl. —I'd scarcely believe it” To which our young hero disdained to reply; But he thought, “ The old gentleman haa a sharp eye.” Pretty soon, aa Miltiades Peterkin Paul Reached the edge of the wood, he saw old Mother Moll; “ To be sure," said she, “ Fine feathers do make fine birds. What a smart frock you have there. 1 " —Then, Beeing the words That were marked on his back, she cried shrilly, "Oh! It was made from your grandmother’s shawl ? I thought eo T’ But this speech caused our hero, of course, no surprise. “ All these witches,” said he, hastening on, “have sharp eyes.” When little Miltiades Peterkin Paul Arrived at the school-house, his mates, one and all, ~ . Game crowding about him to see his new frock. But, alas! all at once they began, too, to mock: And they jeeringly cried, “ Well, before I would wear My grandmother’s shawl for a frock, I'd go barer And they laughed loud and long, till called in by the bell. “O, dear!" sighed Miltiades, “how could they tell?" And then, as he passed to his seat, who should call But the master —“ Miltiades Peterkin Paul, Come here, sir! What’s that on your back, that I see? What! ‘Was made from your grandmother's shawl?’ Why, dear me!” But this last, after all his mates' jesting and jeers, Was too mnch for our hero. He burst into tears, And ran out of the door without taking his hat. And I’m certain he never was vain after that. —John Brownfohn, tn Wide-Awake.

JOHNNY FLAXMAN.

Everybody said that Johnny Flaxman would never be anybody, by which they meant he never would lie a bright and shining light in the world, or distinguished for his intellect; yet, when I saidT everybody, I ought to have left out Johnny’s mother, the teacher and the preacher. Johnny’s mother was naturally partial, but then she knew him better than any one else could, and she was ready to maintain, against the town, that her Johnny had as good a mind as any other boy or girl. I will tell you one reason of her faith in Johnny. Mrs. Flaxman bought a paper of verbena seeds, aDd they looked so much like very tiny sticks that she said she would not “ putter” with them, and, giving them to Johnny, along with a piece of ground for a bed, tola him to see what he could make of them. Time went on, from May till August; then Johnny’s bed ot verbenas was the admiration of the village, and strangers passing often stopped to look at it with surprise and pleasure. Johnny’s duties and little tasks were al ways done in time. The cows were in the milking-yard precisely at half-past six; the chip-basket was always full and in its place, so that Mrs. Flaxman never had to call, "Johnny—chips—chips.” The minister said he liked Johnny because he had such a good and honest heart, and, beside this, he said that Johnny Flaxman learned his Biblo verses perfectly, never jumbling up the small but necessary words—to, <f, with, by— as many careless children do; bo that it was a pleasure to hear Johnny’s Sabbath-School lessons.

His teacher declared that, although it took a long time to get anything through Johnny’s head, when it was learned be knew ft forever. I suppose if you could have seen the struggle he had with the multiplication-table, you would have smiled. Nobody knew how long he had studied it; but little Betty Tattle used to plague poor Johnny, and say that he began to study it as soon as he could talk, and hadn’t got it yet. But the multiplication-table wss nothing to long division; he had a discouraging fight with that All summer the teacher went over it, again and again; but Johnny could not comprehend how to get the dividend. One afternoon, toward the close of the term, s wonderful light came into Johnny Flaxman’s facelie had conquered long division at last. Until he was twelve years old he was always at the foot of the class in spelling; after that, anyone who got Johnny’s place at the head of the class had to work very hard for it. The fact is, Johnny was a plant of slow growth. The morning-gloiy creep to the gable and roof at the homestead in one short summer, hanging all the way along its delicate blossoms. It is very easy to coax a willow-sprout to take root; a little sun and a little rain fulfill the conditions of its growth; in two or three yean it gives in return for a little care yards of silvery, spray-like boughs. But it takes an acorn many summers and many winters to become an oak. When Johnny was about eighteen years old, a Trustee from a district on the hill came down to the valley school to hire a teacher. “•Our district is a rough and tough place,” said Mr. Eyre, “as to wind and weather I mean. The snow-drifts cover the tops of oar fences ; the winds seem never to tire of blowing up our way; but we have wood enough and food enough and good horses and sleighs ; and we want a young man that can really give us a lift Our big boys can’t be spared to go to school in the summer; but they are very anxious to learn all they can in the winter. If,* continued Mr. Evre, “we could get a young man who knows all abont algebra and arithmetic, and who can give" us a lift in our Debating Bociety and prayer meetings, wu shall esteem it a favor and will pay liberal wages. But

our teacher must board around, as it Is the desire of the boys on the hill to haw . him for company; and,aa our living costs iu nothing, are can't pay money rot his board.” Unanimously the verdict of tlto teacher and school .wag: “Johnny Flux wan is pie one to go." * When some one asked Mr- Eym. in th * spring, how they liked Johnny up in his district, he replied; "A more mithful young mwt never drew the breath of life. The learning that the big boys of the Hill School acquired under the teaching of Johnny Flaxuian was something like a Giracle. You ought to see the neat writg, to hear the correct spelling, the parsing, and especially to see the way the boys did those puzzling problems in Partial Payments.”. “ ' ' *' Johnny, how did you like teaching?” Inquired his mother. “ I think it did 1 me more good than to go to school a yean" “Johnny Flaxman is off to college,” said the minister to pretty, young Miss Betty Tattle. “ Why, Johnny was always the dullest boy in school.' How did it happen?” “He prepared hia Greek and Latin: with me; he does seem rather slow, but when bis mind grasps any science it is with the precision of a master.” The career of Johnny Flaxman in college whs similar to that in the district school. The brilliant young men laughed at his slowness. They spent the time in boatiug aud boxing that Johnny spent over the classics; when examination'came they found many things learned so easily haa slipped out of memory, but Johnny Flaxman stood like a rock. He passed through hjs studies with honor, and took the highest prize in mathematics. On the, day that he graduated, the President had a letter from the Trustees of a young college out West. They wrote: “We want a young man. that you can recommend to us, for Professor of" Mathematics. Our school is in its infancy, has its reputation to make, and we want the 'very best Instructors.” Mr. Flaxman, as we now must call him, went to them, and did—as all his life he had done—admirably. This narrative is given particularly for the encouragement of boys who think they are dull ana slow. Patient determination will remove every obstacle from the path at last. One Sunday, not long since, I was in the city where the Rev. Mr. Flaxman preaches, and went to hear him. The sermon reminded me of a green oasis in the Desert of Sahara. He was as much in earnest when he told the story of Christ the Divine Master as he had been all his life in his various undertakings. There were no heresies in his heart; he was orthodox as the Bible itself. The gray of Time was gathering in , little flakes on his hair; there was a small bald spot on the top of his bead; be looked like a strong oak tree, and my mental comment on hi hi was: “I wish that through the length and breadth of this land scores of boys would grow up to be such men as Mr. Flaxman.—Flora Martian , in /». I”. Observer.

A Machine Switchman.

About as curious a railway signal as we have ever seen has recently been patented by Mr. J. D. Hughson, of Prairie City, 111. This inventor believes that, where an engineer might feil to heed the indication of a semaphore or some other purely mechanical apparatus, he wduld be sure to notice the frantic gestures of a man posted beside the track. As men of flesh and blood cannot probably be found who would be willing to stand" on a high pedestal for indefinite periods of time and wave their arms at exact intervals, a machine man has been contrived whp flourishes a flag, hammers a bell, and displays a changeable light in his hat with unfailing regularity. The man owes his movements to clock-work operated by weights, and the latter are controlled by electricity. When a train passes it moves a little stop beside the track, which, by a mechanical connection, shifts a switch so that the current from a main line of tele-graph-wire is diverted into a short circuits An electro-magnet inside the machineman is thus excited, and as it attracts its armature the latter releases a detent. The weights then descend, and the man waves bis flag and pounds his bell, while the light on his hat changes to red. When the train has passed the current is broken from the short circuit, but the man keeps on his motions until a wheel in his interior completes its revolution, and thus allows the detents once more to engage. Ot course the time during whifcii ho waves his flag, etc., is long chough to allow the train that has passed to travel a considerable distance.—-*sfc*«7Ut/?e American. ■ WT 1 'i ! —Here is an English public school boy’s meditation-on the Subject of “ Conceit.” “ Conceit is 4 very bad thing* 80me people are conceited about their name, family pedigree or anything else!. This also is conceit. Woolen-also: are mostly conceited, also about their hair, eyes ahd teeth, and anything else. Conceit is also very had.” —Boston Isn’t to blame because the Hoosac tunnel doesn’t pay. Bhewas willing to dig the hole ana take her chances. —Flies that have lain dormant all winter are coming out and shakin^themselves. The population of Texas is 1,750,000.

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