St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 17, Number 45, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 28 May 1892 — Page 2

OUR FALLEN HEROES. of the nation’s peace Has wreathed with flowers the battle arum: see rt© fruiting fields increase, where soun 1 of war no more shall come. The swallow skims the Tennessee, ‘’oft winds play o’er the Rapidan; Chore only echo notes of glee, A here gleamed a mighty army's van! Fair < hattanooga’s wcolcd slope With summer airs is 11 ghtly stirred, Anu many a heart is warm with hope Where once the deep-mouthed gun was heard. j^ Ue - Potc,nM stain'ers rolls, And Missim Ridge is gemmed with fern; * heigbt s| eepgallant souls. And still the blooming years return. rhank God! unseen to outward eye, But felt tn every freeman’s breast, from grav « where fallen comrades lie Ascends at Nature’s wise behest, IVith sprinting grass and blossoms new, A prayer to bb ss the nation's 1 le, to freedom’s flower give brighter hue, Anu hide the awful stains of strife. hi Blue, we turn to you, he scarred and mangled who survive; No more we met t in grand review, But all the arts of freedom thrive. Still glows the jewel in Its shrine, Won where the James now tranquil rolls; I its wealth for all, the glory thine,

O, memory of heroic souls! OUR MEMORIAL - DAY.

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poor—doubly poor—in all that goes to make life profitable. Ue lived alone, rarely mingling with his neighbors, and on one especial day of the year locking ! every gate and door, and intrenching; himself in the gloomy old mansion, from ;

smile and tear, like some grim hermit. 011 D ecora Hon Day, and this fair May evening its echoes were in the From the*common he could hear the brisk “ground arms, shoulder, march, of the captain of the local milltar v drilling the sons of veterans for the morrow’s exercises; through the trees he could see a patriot neighbor trimming his piazza with bunting; from the little stone church near by wafted the notes oi the organ, mingled with young, fresh voices practicing the pathetic lines of Sleep, i omrade, Sleep,” and on the morrow the poor and the rich, the happy and the bereaved would pass over the | hill to the little green cemetery beyond,

^93UJ i ■ 1 •FATHER, I H AVE ENLISTED FOR THE WAR I” I

to pay a heart-glowing tribute to those i who had given their lives for others, and hud won from the world a crown. That graveyard he never visited, al- | though his heart, his hopes, his happi- > ness were there buried —to him Mem- j orial day signified only blight, soulwreck, despar. Over thirty years ago, in the bright morning of 1 fe, his son Harold stood before him, dressed in the uniform of a soldier, ami with flashing eyes and pulses quickened to valor gave utterance to the proud words, “Father, I have enlisted for the war!” Ah', his braye, bonny boy! He could picture him now —handsome, tall, noble. He recalled the quick alarm to his selfish love. “You go to the war!” he had cried; “you, my only boy—with the mill, the farm, the house to look after, to inherit? Never! Y’ou shall have a substitute. You are all I have in the world.” “God and my country call; I shall go!” came the quick decision. “Then never name me father again!" blazed out the old man, “never darken my threshold! Mark you, Harold, once I shut my heart to you, I could not be more callous to a stranger!” Harold Marvin marched for the front the next day. Once < nly he wrote to his father, a year later. He had met, loved and we Ided the daughter of a Southern refugee during a furlough. He was fighting for his beloved lana. Would his father shelter his bride till the war clouds had rolled away? His reply was anathema for disobedience, harsh, cruel expressions that rang in his ears as he lay on the bloodstained field of Shiloh and died a patriot’s death. They had sent the body home. The grim, 'wretched father had visited the lovely g:ave only once since, to place a simple stone at its head. Then he had shut cut firom heait and home all of light, love and joy. The sounds of the muffled drum, the eight of the bunting, the echo of the memorial hymn maddened hymn. With a groan ho clenched his hand over a clustering bunch of roses, tearing their tender hearts as his was torn and then he drew back at w the sound of 'a j outhful veice. Coming down the lane was a woman. A "irl of 7 had run from her side at a sight of the garden. Her little feet set between the fence boards, her eager face peered through the top pickets. “Mister, oh, mister, please give me some of those pretty roses.” “Go away!” muttered Marvin, with an aggressive scowl.

memorial day!” With a cry of delight the little child gathered up the flowers. With a frightened glance her mother hurried her from the spot. She looked tack once. Marvin was ; leaning against a tree, his face hid in i his hands. For the first time in nearly ; a quarter of a century; for the first time j since the blood of his hero toy had bei dewed the gloried field of Shiloh, the - voi< e of a child had unlocked tender I memories of the past, and Robert MarI vin’s tears fell like rain. I That night Robert Marvin lived over i all the blighted past. Midnight saw i him pacing the gloomy garden with bowed head and clasped hands; dawn greeted no sadder sight than the man of stern principles and mistaken impulses peering blankly from his chamber window out upon the sleeping world. He had been to blame —ho saw it now! Why did that child haunt him? Why had the fresh young face, the re-

EX, twenty, nearly \ thirty years ago— | o the march to glory, ‘ < Shiloh, the grave?” I / d hat was the free- I dom of old Robert I Marvi n’s thoughts I all the live-long day, । and, leaning on the i rustic flower-hedged । ■ fence, looking out■ on the silent lane at ■ eventide, he repeated the words harshly, bitterly. A hard, crossgrained man, rich in worldly possessions.

proachful eyes reminded him of the boy he had lost? Why did the lij>s, qjiivoring with tho name w Shiloh!” sconi to

hallow tho word, and show that even that innocent heart throbbed with pride ' for the valor of some loved and lost one , on the field of glory? Some powerful emotion racked the : I recluse through the early hours. Ho ; ! descended to the garden. From a Ixsl of violets he selected a handful. Like a ' guilty thief he thrust them in his bosom; like a fugitive he stole from tho house, ; down the village street, over the hill and glided through the gates of the little 1 cemetery. Decoration Day! How the wavsido flowers sparkled with dew, tho singing ! birds twittered softly, the balmy zephyrs J swayed the blossoming trees. All nature was in harmony with a subdued ' peace. “Sacred to the memory of Harold Marvin—a soldier.” HD grave! The old man began to tremble, his stern lips quivered. Ten-twenty— nearly thirty years! Nearer together they had never '^’’h^i^that. U me, and now how near

oo I big-place of a hero and a martyr. Voices sounded near. A little gasp at his side, a wavering touch on his arm caused him to look up, startled, abashed, j If the villagers should see him thus! j he, the stern, unrelenting tyrant! No, I it was a child, the little girl h » had seen the day before, and in her ham! were i roses -his roses, the Howers he had so fiercely cast at her feet. “Foor man! have you come to dee- ■ orate the graves, too? Mamma, he has no flowers. Here, you shall have some j of mine.” With all the ingenuousness of childish innocence she divide 1 th" roses. “Those are for you, th-se are for ptq a

“Ain’t you mean!” flashed out the little lady. “Edna! Edna!” quavered the mother, in strange agitation. “Come here at once.” “Why can’t he give mo a rose or two, then?" pouted the child. “He's got lot’s of them. We’ve come so far and we can’t get flowers anywhere, and oh! mister, please! I’ll buy some roses!” The little hand went into a little pocket. Out came two buttons, a doll’s broken foot and four battered pennies. Askance, sullen, the old man viewed her. Then he thrilled as the bright eyes met his own. ‘ It’s to decorate the grave—mamma s papa. He was a soldier. lie died at Shiloh. ” “Take them!" The chihl stepped back appalled. M Ith sudden energy and fierceness, as if that word “Shiloh” had opened | his bleeding heart-wound, Robert Marvin tore a dozen roses from the bush. A shower of perfume fell over the delighted child. “Take them!” almost shrieked the tortured man. “Nothing but the war! nothing but soldiers' graves and Shiloh!” he sobbed. “Take them! get away!—oh! my boy! my boy! Flowers for the cruel war that murdered you, that robbed me of all I loved on earth, that left life to mo one long bitter

—mamma’s papa.” Mechanically Robert Marvin took the ■ . proffered flowers. Like one in a dream, ■ I he saw the child solemnly place the j i others across the very grave before | । them. “Edna, come here!” faltered a quaver- | ing voice, and the lady in black advanced timidly. Trembling from head to foot, Robert Marvin struggled to his ! feet. “Those flowers—this grave!” be | gas; ed. “It is my father’s gtave. We have j come a long way to visit it,” spoke the ■ woman, softly. “Your father’s grave!’’ stammered Marvin in a suffocating tone, “Yes, a brave man—a hero of Shiloh , —Harold Marvin—a soldier. This is a I painful meeting. I know you—the vil- ; lagers told me. I did not think to see you—l ’ Robert Marvin reeled like a drunken man. He knew the truth, and the secret of little Edna’s magnetic eyes, now! “We will go away—l am sorry.” faltered the lady. “Yours is the first right here ’ ’ “Stay!”—the old imperious accents i ‘J?IS’* 4'* • Ag mw >.' < eg®# ■MW A a' ' “here! you shall have some of mine.” rang out. “He was your father! Then । 1 your mother, my boy’s wife ” l “Died a year ago. I was a widow, then. I came here because it was her I last wish, but not to intrude on you. We

never thought of that. Wc will go "I “Stay! here in my heart, in my home!” eerttbed Robert Marvin. “I have been wicked, cruel, stem! I loved my boy. I confess my wrong. My life Is lonely. My daughter, my child, try to help mo ; atone for my wicked obstinacy and neg- । loot of him and your mother!” । The barriers were down now! From , tho shadowland lying beyond that little I mound, a peaceful spirit seemed to romo, ! Floweis were there, and tears; as well! Sobbing her pitiful story, the grand- ■ daughter’ wept in the embrace of Robert ' Marvin, but Robert Marvin contrite, re- 1 i morseful, purified by suffering. I Ten, twenty, nearly thirty years, and the old mansion rang_ again with childish tones, and Robert Marvin opened the shuttered windows and let God’s blessed sunshine once more into his home. To heart-beat and to drum-beat he foli lowed tho concourse to the little cemetery that day, his granddaughter on his arm, little Edna clinging caressingly to his han'd.

And, together, united, at peace with heaven and earth, they sanctified with their simple heart-worship the memo-rial-day flowers that were placed acrasa the last resting place of “Harold Marvin —a soldier! ” Weldon J. Oobb. THE GRAND ARMY.

Veterans Have Good Beason to CherUh the Honorable Name. Some silver-haired soldier may take his grandson upon his knee and tdll him brave tales of tho grand' army that

marched down into the sun land a generation ago when Grant was its leader. It was, indeed, a grand army, the like of which never before vas obedient to one man’s will, the likg of which was n«y er organized le fore. A strangy eventful period, when a i powf r f u iiy y wrought-upon sent. ' iment, ; deep im- ! pulsive conviction ; or a eH’auous loy- ! adty hurled t 0 j

JoS^ eOw? ¥^

arms, converted the humbU artisan, ! ; craftsman, or the tiller of the qjt a ' hero, and made valiant mon yt little I less than gods. A volunteer amy, but I ‘ such volunteers! Not the rnceenarv i j not the vageJxmd, not the adv<purer ; i not tho convict fled from the gaßvs, b>. * ' tho heart, soul, life, and first suits oi ; tho land, the brawn and sinew, a ] oc ! the jrnetry and the romance of ti. ooun> i i try. bravo in experience as well prac- j ' tim'd valor, youthful intrepidity^ I I as mature courage, rushed to th front i ; in more than called-for numl^ i B ; the closing year of tho war Grus ©om- i । manded over a million men. The swarm of wil i, untutored Wagei who made terrible tho Mrthrldoe conquests hardly outnumbered this Tay oi Ameiiean soldiers, who prompy as- ; ! sumod the bearing, precision, er char* aeter of veterans. Such was tlariny Grant flung in’o the breach of rc^Hon | an are y as rapidly recruited M, was decimated, new calls to arms prqjrtng new volunteers, so that in the o urt h ’ ' y-nr of the war PG.R’td m n ro-xMed ; to the final call, ami others wX V et ' into Eno.

...„ y -A •kJ"’7^ reason have ? n" survivors <af r.ble war to cherish tho^ honorable name. Bat let tho name be the d ar. r to memory mi I the sweetor t^ pride for j the rea ^ n th..t they who slO"p in the | bivo a • no mortal reveille will disturb are as much a part of that Grand Army as are thoFe who mar.-h where mounds are green with offerings of lilies mid ■ roses and immortelles. More than 3O’M oo are lying in national cemeteries to attest the fatality of war. ami 51,302 ol the—e were killed in battle, and 49,i f)5 di. d of wounds received in engagements. The others succumbed to dis- > .me or were victims of accident, all soldiers of the Gland Army, all remiy to i do and die. There is something, then, to remem- ; ber on Memorial day. Visi ns of the past make quick the forms that molder i into du t. The streets a ;am are thronged ; with men mustering to march to the ) front. Tne thrilling notes of the fife, the invigorating ro 1 . f the drum, the ; waving banners and the fluttering handkerchiefs, smiles driving away tears as j tender love looks proudly and hop.-fully ; upon gallant y> uth and valiant age, the | shout, the hu man. ami the long, slow । tramp, the passing tro ps, the enthusiasm that intoxier tes, the pride that I chokes the heart—so they marched i away, the companies and the regiments i that out there under the belching can- , non and the piercing musketry were i baptized into immortal fame ths Grand . Army of the Republic. Fewer and fewer with each Memorial Day those who remember. A new battle is fairly on and the ranks of the veterans are withering under the silent stroke, anl s-xm—too soon, as some of us shall think—the Grand,Army will troop by phantom-still, unified again, will move down the streets across the valleys and over the hills, the busy world not knowing, but the angel of peace and happiness, of prosperity and enlightenment, will»iook serenely on, call the army byname, and whiper remembrance lovingly. It was a Grand Army, too, in something more than numbers. Typical of the freest nation of the earth, it embodied men who were as self-devoted and as lovingly patriotic as ever was Spartan or Thracian and as resolutely daring. They were the nation’s flower, the very fact and essence of our national life: a Grand Army in character, in numbers and in achievements. The million men wlio answered to roll-call under Grant in IM-5 were veterans in fighting experience, but at the word they fell into the walks of peace to become the most order-loving of peaceful citizens. The American volunteer of the

war for the l.’nion was the higlmst type of the soldier the world has ever seen, and all honor to him. Swats! Wh'le a young man was sitting in a San Francisco theater the other night a wandering rat sought refuge under his coat tails. He was unaware of its presence until, reaching for something from n his hip pocket, he was severely bitten - in the hand. a—- — as Silk. ■ ( i It has been shown that the cocoon ol r I a silk worm will yield a thread 1,000 q j yards or three-fifths of a mile long.

BIG BRIDGE GOING. UNION PACIFIC STRUCTURE AT omaha washing away. the Eastern Approaches Already Gone and the Rest in linger oi FallingThe Missouri Rising Rapidly and Great Alarm Felt by the People. Cut Oil’ by Floods.

l HE eastern approach to the big Union 1 aeific bridge over the Missouri at Omaha has been washed out, and there are fears that the entire structime pill go. The river is rising rapidly, and all the lower portions of the city are under water, while many small buildings situated on tho river front have alalready floated away. The washing away of the annroach to

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the bridge has put a stop to all traffic, and it may be weeks before trains will again ruu from Council Bluffs to Omaha. If the river continues to rise i the main portion of the big bridge will likely be carried away, as it has been ' , greatly weakened by the washing out of I [ the eastern approach. . People are becoming greatly alarmed , by the prospect of still higher waters, and residents of towns along the river are hastening to tho higher ground. It has been raining furiously, with tho result that the sewers and small streams have poured a flood of water into the Allssouri. Tho channel lately ^°hed to the western bank, and as that portion of the approach is formed by trestlmg filled in with earth and loose rock the current, soon began to I eat it away. All day long the gnawing ; at the filling had kept up, and in the evening it was noticed that tho apj proaches were beginning to totter. As ; a result all trains were held in Omaha. I / bridge began to sway ami crack, and a row minutes later with a ; roar and crash one s; an went whirling 1 : down the river, carrying with it the fix- 1 i tures and equipments on that side of the ' I i ^ go \ A large forc( ' of m, '» *'as hurried i I to the break, and carload after carload j i or rock Is being emptied in, in hopes of i turning the current and saving the rest | of the approach. The river surrounds i the embankment of the Unit n Pacific I for nearly a mile on either side, and it is feared that the swift current mav break ' through this bank and utterly ruin the bridge ami roadway. ; In the city tho floo I has plnvod havo- ' vith the lowlands. All the squatters on 1 the bottoms have been fore.'d to flee for i their lives. Most of their homes have ! ' been wiushed away and many more will ’ ’ go. The rainfall has been unprece- I ' <!■ ntod and much damage is expected on ! * all sides. j [ No PronHwf for ReHef. A Washington dispatch savs: The ; * threatening asport of the outlook for ' f the Lower Mississippi Valley has deep- ' t onod in tho last forty-eight' hours. As I i reganis tho prospect for intensity and I duration of the impending flood with the I c -'■a’er now In sight, matters staqd..^bout j c as allows; 1 here has a rainfall of er from 1 ■

i i i vr , i - 1’ f ' f 1 .. v > ' V.-L x.. ' $ ; Zre r < > ■V I -.—- ”, -- X - M _ '7 ’ A \ !4 - ’ WORK OF the i I. OD AT OMAHA. . Mississippi averages over one inch. The j present high stage of the Missouri at j Kansas City - 21.7 feet, a tall of a foot ! since Monday—will Lc maintained for | some time, ami may evun inerea-m in the next three days. The I'pper Mississippi at Dubuque, with a stag.' of 10. b. has risen two feet in the hist five days. At St, Louis the very high stage of 35.3 feet prevails, there being a rise of five feet in the last five days. The rate of the • rise has slackened. The prospects are I that the rise, will continue one foot more | and a high stage will be maintained for some time. The Ohio has begun to rise, the stage at Cincinnati being 22.5. The present Ohio rise will not be of much importance. Tho Cumberland is at a low stage. At Cairo the river is at a stage of 41.8 feet, having risen 5.3 feet in the past seven days. The rate of rise at Cairo has fallen off in the past day. It is not expected the stage will go above 43 foot in the next two days. It will wmiixu. . 'onary, however, at the high stage, ami it remains to be seen ye* what w’ill occur with the Missouri fleod. IJrcavh in the Levee Widening. Wednesday morning the Gypsy crevasse, near New Orleans, had widened out to such an extent that all hope of closing it was abandoned. The water is sweeping over the plantations to within a few miles of Kenner. About eight ■ miles of the Mississippi Valley Railroad ’ track has been covered and traffic over the submerged portion is abandoned. ! The location of the break is about twenty-live miles above New Orleans ! and two miles above where the great Bonnet Carre crevasse occurred in 1874.

FARMERS AT THE FAIR. The Agricultural Exhibit W U I* ar Exceed All I’revious displays. The agricultural exhibit at the V orld a Fair, it is believed, w'ill be studied with greater interest and by more people than will almost any other division of the great Exposition. Millions arc engaged in raising or dealing in agricultural products, and every one is a consumer ol them. Recognizing this, the Exposition management has provided accommodations and facilities for this exhibit which dw r arf such provision made at any previous world’s fair.

! The Agricultural Building, an Impos- ; in ff and beautiful structure, situated j across the main lagoon, southward from - the great Manufactures Building, is rapidly approaching completion, and will be finished even to all details of ornamentation before Oct. 1. It meas- > ures 500 by 800 feet, and has an ; nnex Joo by 550 feet, and a connected assembly hall, which has a seating capacity of 1,500. Close by on tho south is the Dairy Building, measuring 100 bv 200 ieet. J he northern portion of the main floor of the building will be occupied by the 1 • agricultural and other food exhibits ol foreign nations, which, it is aheady assured, will be extensive. Great Britain Germany, France, Mexico, Austria; j Denmark, Sweden, Japan, Paraguay < anada, and a number of other countries have already been assigned space i ranging from 1,000 to 15,000 square feet ' +, aC i expected that the agricui- ! ; tuial exhibits by these countries will be । i as comprehensive as those of our own country, and will show some features ■ which will be exceedingly instrumive m ।

। . iiioiiuuLive w I Americans. I Dccupying nearly all the remainder of the main floor will be the exhibit of centals and other farm products from the States of tho Union. Every State and Territory, it is expected, will be represented by its products. Thus, upon this one vast floor, covering nearly ten acres, will be displayed in all their variety and perfection the pick of the farm products of the world. It is believed that the exhibit made by this country naturally exceeding any other in ex-tent,’ will attract great attention, also, by reason of its exceptional merit, an 1 the comprehensive information that will accompany it. This great exhibit, or rather array of exhibits, will bo made and arranged in Such a systematic manner that the visitor, almost at a glance, can tell not only the appearance of each object but what it is, where it came from, and “all about it.” For, under the regulations adopted for the Department, t hies Buchanan requires that each exhibit shall accompanied with the following dataName of object, name of producer, where grown, character of soil, date of planting, quantity of seed planted per acre method of cultivation, date of harvesting, yield per acre, weight, price of product at nearest market, average temperature, and rain or snow fa 11 l, v months between planting and harvesting, and whether or not irrigation was employed. On the six acres of floor in the Annex which is virtually an extension of that of the main building; will be shown every description of agricultural machinery, Including not only the best and most improved now in use, but also such

OUCU as will illustrate the progress of tho industry, from primitive times to the present. In the great galleries of the building, which are most novel in construction ami perfect in point of availabiiit , will be located on the north front, the wool exhibit; on the west end the apiary display, which will include working colonies of bees; on the south front the dairy implements, and on the great central sections the exhibit of the brewing ami tobacco industries, and the wealth of magnificent exhibits of flours, meals, bread, pastry, sugars, confectionery, canned goods, oils, soaps, chocolates, etc.

Ono of the most novel, instructive, and jloubtediy-aWhct the attention ■ilehtWo'Wo?son aria s c nblarin teres ted ! X I'," v agricuH.ural lif«>, will be r ~v • ■ poour -pen

>v!H bo looted In the souriiwost eon:of of Mu' building, on the first floor. It wi.l r<qves.'nt tho entire work of a rule! Agricultural Experiment Station, ' ring entirely the field of experiment : t, ' r > omch in crops, botany, korti -uli ma! n. « Oll . o iogy, finding stuffs, anii all| l veto. dairy solids, milk testing an elaboru.. f cieiwe, anl will include I io.ogi'-al nna q complete botanical, In addition tvdealtaborator• . coll, ges of the 1 uis, tic agricultural in this sp ice, a combiStiU d have, ieally illustrating the AVigrhnit graphfiekfeovered by'each c. lh am. special tir<? exb.il it is not only u. iMs ensomething that has non r bt’e, hut is plished or attempted at any aecontexp> dtion. The exhibit will bevioug

' - v 1 i . i •i . . • . ■ • . i . ■i ( ij r i 3 and conducted by the directors o', up different experiment stations and repe ! sentatives o: the different agnieultux .o' 0.., 1 c I * - ,'i

. (‘olleges of tho t nited States, eaci*. . : contributing some part of the exhibit, L the whole to bo installed in a magt | nifiei nt manner, at the expense of the ri Vnited States Government. This wiil » I give to every visitor an opportunity to t I witness the methods by whi. h the great 1 i advance in all phases of agricultural > life anl research are carried on the colt j leges and experiment stations of the t. j I'nited States. - I Outside the building will be shown * ( several magnificent exhibits, put up at J ; a great cost, of the Irrigation systems "। of the great. Mi st. On the lagoon just . j south iff the Annex to the Agricultural • । Building will be installed traction and i ! portal.de engines and a wonderfully ini j teresting exhibit of wind-mill ma-

t i chinery. > ■ All visitors will be interested in the t i agricultural exhibit, but its chief value • i will rest upon a much broader and more > j significant fact. The exhibit will afford > : a vast amount of information to many ■ : thousands to whom it will prove of ini’ i owiculable benefit. The crops best J adapted to different localities ami the reason therefor, the most improved methods of cultivation that ar^ being - pursued, the oesc 1 I secured and the manner of their securf : ing, and the perfection of products in 5 ; every’ lino—all these will be shown and i ' will constitute the more important lest ; sons which the agricultural exhibit will 1 teach. Through the thotvands who r I learn these lessons and are sure to make : practical utilization of them, the agrit j cultural industries will receive such an s । economic readjustment and impetus as t j will result in increased productiveness i ami merit, and general beitetit to the entire country. At tho end of July last there were 1 03,5(10 electric lamps —incandcs ■■■nt.gml arc—in use in Paris. At the end of 3 March, 1891, tho number was 105,0«0, sc that during a period ol sixteen months Q the number of lamps in use increased by 0 41,500. d — . fl Paris is now the best lighted city in >f the world, and a model for all cities that a are bent on introducing electsic lighting ,- on a grand scale. h :— Never leave the highway for a bywav. in religion, politics, or morals.

A Llon-Tamer’« Peath. A terrible occurrence was wit* nessed at Womb well Bailey's menagerie and circus two weeks ago, while an exhibition was being held at Hednesford, near London, says an exchange Delhi Montarno, a liontamer, was in the act of entering a cage containing three bears and a hyena when, it appears, he slipped down, and the animals pounced upon him in a moment. The hyena first । aitacked him ami threw him savagely across the cage. The bears then Worried him forabout fifteen minutes, biting at the poor fellow savagely. It is a wonder that he was brought alive out of their cage. He was, however, still living when eventually taken from them, and was removed | to the Anglesy Hotel, but his injui i ies were of so serious a nature that no । hr;pe was entertained of his recovery. I He lingered until about 11 o'clock

; and then expired. The scene in the j I menageria during the unfortunate t man's struggle with the savage beasts i ; was one of the wildest excitement, il'l he female portion of the audience ) I screamed, and both males and females “ I rushed alx ut in the vain endeavor to , gel out ol the place. Many were jcomp.illed to witness the terrible ; -rtene enacted in the cage without bei | mg able to assist the poor fellow who , । was in such imminent danger of losina ’ , his life. ° 'j -In inquest on Une body was held. ; Mi. I rank Bostock, the proprietor of the menagerie, stated ' that Delhi i Moniarno, the lion-tamer, was a negro, 'j he animals with which he went into the cage to perform were the quietest in the show. When they attacked the deceased, witness entered the den, but failed for some t ime to get t 'mm away from Montarno, 1 he latter had long been a tamer of wild beasts and had never before met wit h an accident in the pursuit of his calling. Jagus Martin, a lion-tamer, atlacht-d to the menagerie, stated that the deceased stumbmd and fell as li ■ entered the bears’ cage and the leules at once attacked him. Dr. Butler, who was present when the shocking scene occurred, slated that even thing possible was done to get the poor fellow out of the clutches of tne animals, but he was so seriously injured when eventually removed from tin* cage that he died within

twenty minutes. N-K'ect or Un S , n , e «. 1 h<> present state of linguistic education gives the most unsatisfacto;y results. Languages are first very laiioriomlv and very imperfectly learned and then generally abandoned in alter life. Even the learned them* selves rarely pursue them unless tlrny have some special reason fordoing so connected with their professional business. Modern languages arc neg< looted almost as much as the ancient when they are not wanted for business purpores or travels, savs a

’ V i e.. o Cl i J in the Eorum. An Oxfordn^g^^*^ ^aiipe Italian ng » young-ladies in ' !e I give up theAwg ine 9 "yi>" J. a Universit B4LV4 -labour 4 -•].ty. Lord

•“?■!>« i,'i although he hit I taken a degn-e ho could not reahy read Greek until he ha 1 learned it । over again for himself, and in his own wav. An English judge wh > had taken his decree at Cambridge told me that he could not make out Greek in mat ore life, even with the help of the b'xicon. AJcllow of th • Ereneh 1 niv'Tsity, a prizeman specially for Latin in a severe competitive e.vami- ■ h m, mid me tlmt he should never think of reading Latin for his p.'easure he did n-t know it well enough. An Ena.i”h professor, reputed to bo mv of th" ’■ '-i Latin seholais in Ids own country, gave up Latin and

Greek entirely when he turned bis attention to modern languages. The principal of a Ereneh college on: e

■ mfe- ed to me that he never rea l i.’in or Gr ‘ek. winch w ‘re taugat urke place by the specialist masters calbddm. All these are what are . at i ri”arned men." certainly eduto expect What, therefore, aie we —‘a the half-cducat'd? - ai :<»■ __ Hirds are iar fe emher the weather by’ associated with English Channel tif' rets. In the gard the Hight of tlie I W rn ' len re ‘ nights as a certain preclf AV 011 k cast wind. ' T au ’The gales of the spring c-aii iV X called Gowk storms, because?^ / follow the cuckoo —almost everyu

regarded as a true weather prophet* The appearance of a s -amew prot. ises Fain and high southwest winds Seagulls in the field mean a storm from the s >utheast. The stormy petrel is a bird ot ill omen. But all these and other bird rraditbms may be traced to old Greek and Roman traditions, and possibly even still further back. 1 g, aimj.tramm " : d ~ die i ‘ iIW Ij, < ship is an old sign of a^orm. Sh-F * pearc refers to it, as do s< ve , oid pluv writers. And aga., 01 t}i « find the explanation in the mythical character of the rs. ' en ^ . _ hi old mythology the dolphin tteJ Rthe moon, and the moon is ,QS weather maker. 9 _\n old belief of sailors that to cu tl ■ hair ami nails during a calm would certainly bring on a storm is plainly referable to the Greek maxim that the nails must not be pared before the * yp-th** Nails. The alleged connection between gypsies and the nails used in the cru•it xion has frequently been referred to. It is said that the tinkers are descendants of the one who made the nails for the cross and are condemned to wander continually without rest. This tradition is very common in the Highlands of Scotland. 1