Semi-weekly Independent, Volume 2, Number 10, Plymouth, Marshall County, 14 December 1895 — Page 6

HIS DIVINITY. ' ' X !t vr'th'n the cushioned per, Ili-.t i.-fi .-t confess my thoughts pursue A rather worldly course, in lieu Of p'-nitc r.tial lire. Te: r.ur." within the edifice In wr.r-d.ij ing are less mniss My t!:o'.:2hts are tinged with hcr-vcnly i-s. ! Vor Nellie's la the choir. A witrhing figure, straight and trim. She stands and carols forth the hymn, Ulr Mushes "neath her broad hat brim, T see l ow I iidmiiv. X " r.t.-n her lovely, pulsing throat. H'T dimples and her curls I note Ccita.! music seem- to tloat, IVr Nellie's in the choir. In tl.n ':gh t lio- eb.incel window slips A r'-xy Minhi am. and it sins Tic MVKtwss of her langhin.; lips, An never koouh to tire. i At.. while the pastor does expound, Arn. to sIijp.jImt sound, T, .('.. that makes my world so round, J- r Nellie's in t Im choir. Pf tic.t I' reo Ire-s.

THE AKT OF ACTING. Ilr.IIo. Monty! Alone in your glory. eh: ' exclaimed Frank Kortright, as ho trolled into the Ilotlerton club at fil o-.:t (1:00 oik; afternoon. "Whore is -I rant toll you." replied Monty. "7 b y weren't in the city, that's all I know. The house was half empty, and tho rr.ii:i:g market as tint as dishwater. I drij't believe I've made a pony this month.' "I never knew London so empty. Not Iialf a, dozen theaters open; which is rough on the dramatic en tie, who has to write about the drama or starve. Cl.mles, give me some consomme and pom grilled salmon, and "Will these lamb cutlets take long? Very well, then; I'll have some cutlets-and an Imperial pint of 114, as quickly as you can. please." Going anywhere?" asked Monty. 'Yes: to a theater you probably never board of the Elephant and Castle, In the New Kent road. By the way, would Jfou care to come, too I have two stalls?" inquired the critic. "It might an: t:sc yon, if you've never been to that Bort of a theater before. They're playing an old-fashioned melodrama called Badrina, the Marionette - Makoi's Daughter, in five acts and twelve tal ter.ViX." "Does It matter about my not being Grossed ?' "Dear, no. Nobody dresses there. I'm oniy dressed because I'm oing there off 'tally." ft -Then I shall be delighted. Charles, s n.y coffee ready?" In hair an hour's time Monty Braftam and Frank Kortright wen In a Jhansoiu on the way to tue New Ko:t road. It's the devil of a. way," remarked Monty after a time. "If you really want to see fine act"ing,' said Frank, "you'll have to travel a good deal further than the New Kent ro.id. I shall never forget the improsf!on that a certain company made iqon tue never. It was at the Foushkino th t-ter, at Krasnoyarsk. Tho most marvelous acting you ever saw. Talk abo'.it Irving, Salvini or Barnay." t 'What, the South African chap?" No, no; Fin speaking of the Herman tragedian. Why. their man Ostolopoff ro-ihl wipe the stage with any of them. r.d that sweet woman. Archangl eski, as beautiful as Julia Neilson. as graceful ns Kilon Terry, with all the originality and repose of La Duse, combined with the force of Sarah Bernhardt. 'Bar. 'y 10 years of age I knew her pettwir.Uy a most interesting girl. The low comedian, too; Little Fik! So full oi humor and resource. Never at a io5s-a mixture of Arthur Roberts and "KcMet. He was a very distinguished Voliticiau at one time at St. Petersburg in the Ilussian ministry, in fact; but hn took to conspiring and they packed hire off to Siberia. I met him in private. Half his head was shaved, he tu Ice tried to escape." And so on. And by the time Trank Kortright had finished his description of this ideal roiTipany of comedians ho and his friend had reached the Elephant and Castle. They were only about half an 1iour late. Madriua, the marionettemaker's daughter, was in bridal attire, About to be married to Hans, her father's young foreman. Hut the villain -had entered, accompanied by a very Bhabby attorney, and had informed the -assembled peasantry that her father bad just been foully murdered. And on this assurance the police were reluctantly compelled to arrest the bride--groom-elect on the capital charge, as, although he had not been near the house of the deceased, the knife which did the deed had been found In. Hans' room. An old half-witted villager called Bcppo was exercising confidence in IlaLs and grave doubts of the villain's bocafides, vhich evoked loud applause from the audience. And If anyone should ask why this was going on, the -answer is, because it was a melodrama. "Who's the chap playing Beppo?" -asked Braham, presently. "That? Oh. that's poor old ITtz-C'ib-boa Arthur Fitz-Giblon one of the teal old school. He used to le on the western circuit, as they call it. He's -played all the round of legitimate parts Hamlet. Othello, Claud, Belphegor -everything. In fact. Isn't It almost in--cr-'Oible to think that our fathers and Grandfathers, nctually admired that tyle of acting? Listen to his ranting .nd declaiming." said. Frank. "Von can hear every word he says, tho-Jsh. can't you?" suggested his matter-of-fact friend. "'Hear it? Yes, I dare say! In the npxt street, I expect! Bat that's not the way people talk in every-day life, nrely. Ami his gestures! "Why, In goodness tttme. Is he throwing his fcands above his head?" "I suppose It Is because he Is nppealtng to heaven," said Monty.

"Yes, but surely you. c;m nppeal to heaven without that! If only acttrs understood the value of repose of repression!" sighed the critic, making a blae-k mirk ou his program against poor Fitz-tiibbon. "Now, what does an old chap like that get paid?" asked Monty, presently. "Fitz-tJibbonV Oh. I don't know. I should think he'd consider himself in a seventh heaven if anyone were to (Ter him 4 a week." "But he'd get more than that in the west end, wouldn't he?" "My dear Bra ham, we shouldn't stand that style of acting in the west end." We've changed all that, thank goodness. We've exterminated the barnstormer and godfathered a new school. And yet there are some people who say, 'What's the good of critics?' " "An actor who can please a west end audience can make Lis i'JU or iöü a week, I suppose?" "Oh, at least. A good deal more, if he has a theater of his own." "I" pon my sotd that sounds very line! I've a deuced good mind to tak :i then tor myself." "My dear fellow, a first-rate idea, pro vided you have the fur saerel" What Mr. Kortright meant by this I do not know, but that is what he said. About two months later London was ringing with the triumphs of Montague Braham, the new actor. It was impossible to secure a seat at the Elite Theater without booking at least a month in advance. There were no two opinions about the genius of this "latest addition to the band of manager-act-ots," as he was called. He had come, he had aspired, lie had conquered. The play was called "Dunstan's Deception." It was a strong, modern drama, with a touch of the supernatural in it. It is needless to give the plot of it, but this Is Frank Kort right's opinion of Braha m's performance, as set forth in Monday's Ephemeris: "A first night in the Elite. 'What a revelation!' cried a young lady who was waiting for her carriage in the vestibule of the Elite at 11:15 Saturday night. And 'What a revelation!' was tho exclamation from everyone's mouth. 'Who is this Mr. Braham?' asked several. The answer is easyindisputable. Mr. Braham is one of the most remarkable young actors of the century. From the moment that Dunstan enters the stage as the trusted old solicitor soberly dressed, unobtrusive in manner, his keen, dark eyes peering from under the bushy, dark eyebrows, ever on the alert, taking in everything, the closely cropped gray whiskers and scanty, well tended hair (a marvel of make-up, by the way), suggesting nothing but commonplace respectability to the moment in the last act when, trembling and white with fear, he bursts into the cottage of the family he has ruined and craves pardon of Agnes, whose lover he has consigned to a madhouse until the climax, when he finally expires on the hearth-rug, himself a gibbering lunatic the great audience were In the hands of the great actor as a pliant rod in the grasp of a skillful angler. Mr. Braham can sway them as he pleases. There Is no trickery here, no slavish following of the old, no masterful striving after the new. It is greater than art, because it Is nature; it is greater than nature, because it is art. Mr. Braham Is like a young surgeon who does not discard the scalpel because he has mastered electrolysis. He can hunt with the oldfashioned leech and run the new-fangled microbe. We know not in what physilogical dissecting-room Mr. Bra

ham has acquired his knowledge of the anatomy of human nature. But he knows it to a vesicle. In line, we were all too hypnotized by the antiseptic spray of his exuberance to be able to analyze it precisely. We woke up from the trance like the 'little old woman upon the king's highway,' only to exclaim with the young lady in the vestibule, 'What a revel:: t ion !'" From that day forward everything went well with Monty. His lookingglass was crowded with cards of invitation from all the highest in the laud. He became president of the Stoke Newington Philothespiaus and patron of the Braham liovers (Battersea). He gave a lecture to the Playgoers' Club, called: "How Much Should Be Told." and he laid the foundation of a new opera house at Newton (Isle of Wight). Photographers and interviewers would camp on his doorstep in order to get a glimpse of him as he left the house. His photographs filled every shop window and decorated every boudoir. They appeared also on soap advertisements, on cigarette-boxes and from automatic machines (when these were in working order). When there was room in the daily papers one might occasionally find tidings of war, of politics and of scientific advance. But the Journals were mostly filled with news of Monty his habits and Ideas. One learned that he liked best to study his parts "in the still of the night, when this great Loudon of ours Is fast asleep;" that his favorite drink was "tea in Russian fashion, with a slice of lemon or else plain soda water." That he "used to sketch and play the piano and that sort j of thing;" but that now he had no time for such things. That he "still loved to scamper over the hayfields after the hounds." that he was "passionately fond of animals," and that he first discovered his wonderful talent when playing with a favorite wolfhound. "Toor old Conrad! That paper knife was made out of one of his pads. I was playing with him ono afternoon and happened for a Joke to pretend to 1k dead. Conrad set up such a dismal howl that I knew I was an actor!" Monty was also elected eagerly to many clubs; but he frequented chiefly his old friend the Betterton, and it was while he was dining one afternoon that an acquaintance suddenly exclaimed to him:

"By the way. Braham. did you knovt this old chap. Fitz-tJibbou?" "The old actor'." replied Monty, looking leisurely up from the salad he was mixing. "Oh, yes; I remember him. What's happened to him?" "Well, he's dead; that's all." said the other. "There's a short notice of him in this evening's paper. Respectable representative of r bygone school. A favorite with our more easily pleased forbears, and all that sort of thing. He seems to have died very suddenly this mo ruing." "Charles," sard Monty to the waiter, "get me my bill and a Bradshaw." A few weeks later Frank Kortright received the following explanation of the sudden closing of the Elite Theater, which had so surprisedttheater goers: "('rand Hotel, Buenos Ay res My Dear Frank: It occurred to me you might be amused to hear from me why I closed my theater and left town so suddenly. You may remember the night we went to the Elephant and Castle, when we saw poor old Fitz(iibbon in some old-fashioned melodrama. Well. I went homo that nigltt and went through a lot of calculations, and I came to the conclusion that the regular daily twenty-four hours' work of a modern successful actor was really too much for any one man to undertake; so I arranged to dividu it with two. Old Fitz was enchanted to do the acting (which wasn't in ivy line, and which he did extremely well), at a salary of 10 a week. And I consider myself very well paid for all the interviewing and so on. 1 had a room fixed upforoldFitz-Cibbonnextto mine. And I affected a 'mannerism of always rehearsing in my dross and make-up which made a great Impression and simplified the 'double' arrangement. I never allowed any one to come into my dressing-room. The period during the performance was about the only three hours that I had in the day for sleep. I am now going to rest for a year or two; then I don't know yet what I shall do. I haven't decided. I may take up medicine. Y'ours respectfully, "MONTY BKAIIAM." St. James' Oazette.

NOTHING NEED BE WASTED. Uses to Which Broken Glass and Old Bones May Be Put. When a tumbler or other glass vessel is broken do you think its usefulness Is gone? It is not, by any means. It is tossed into the ash barrel, indeed, but it is pretty sure to reappear in another form on the table. In making glass it is usual to melt the materials toset her with a quarter or half their weight of "cullet" that is, broken glass of the same kind. This uses up great quantities of broken glass which the ragpickers carefully sort out from the barrels and dumps. Some of the coarsest glass is melted and colored in the paste. When it is cold it is broken into irregular pieces and sold for cheap mosaics in the decorations of shops, while broken bottles are ground up to make sand or glass paper. Bones have a long career of usefulness after they are discarded from the kitchen. Ground to dust they make valuable fertilizers, while, at some English dyeing establishments, bones are boiled to get the gelatine, or size, for stiffening goods. Sometimes bones are boiled and bleached and then sent to the turners to be made into knife handles, toothbrushes, nailbrushes and buttons, while ground up and mixed with other things they are used as bonemeal to feed cattle. Where does the ivoryblack of the artist come from? From burning old bones in closed retorts, and the same substance is used In making blacking. Bone charcoal is used in refining sugar because It is so absorbent that It will remove all trace of indigo from sugar colored with It. This charcoal can be used over and over again l3 washing and heating, and when finally worn out for refining purposes it is used in making phosphorus. Old tins are cut into strips, punched, blackened and varnished, and used to strengthen cheap trunks and boxes, while old iron is remelted and appears In fresh, new form. It is said England ships as ballast much of her worn-out gridirons, boilers, shovels and the like to us to be melted over. Even such small things as corks are collected and recur, while those that are too rough for cork making are used for floats for fishermen and for stuffing horse collars. New Y'ork Times. Empress Josephine's Appearance. She had thin brown hair, a complexion neither fresh nor faded, expressive eyes, a small retrousse nose, a pretty mouth, and a voice that charmed all listeners. She was rather undersized, but her figure was so perfectly proportioned as to give the impression of height and suppleness. Its charms were scarcely concealed by the clothing she wore, made as it was in tt.e suggestive fashion of the day, with no support to the form but a belt, and i s scanty about her shoulders as it was about her shapely feet. It seems to have been her elegance and her manners as well as her sensuality which overpowered Bonaparte, for ho dcscriled her as having "the calm and dignified demeanor which belongs to the old regime." Long Words. The longest word in the dictionary is palatopharingeolaryngeal. The next longest in transubstanUatlonalist. Blobbs "Has Scribbler's new play much local coloring and atmosphere?" Slobbs "Lots of it; but Judging from the opening night, the coloring is very blue and the atmosphere decidedly frosty." Philadelphia Record. A "man who has owned a piano a good many years Is amused at the man who Is Interested in buying one. If we were a woman, wo. would not consent to wear bloomers unless wa were fixed tor it below the waist.

A MAN Or COURAGE.

Desperate llnconalcr with Brigands in Mexico. "Sp'MkJng of ae:s of courageous se'fvicriiuv for the public good." remarked x gentleman wh had lived seveial years in Mexico. "1 knew a man in Mexico who could give pointers Jo soive of those old Romans we read abo;." says the Washington Siar. "At the time of my acquaintance wiih him lie was 7. years old and was living with his second wife, by whom he had three or four children. When he was ;;o years of age he lived on a ranch with his wife and child, a bv of 1. and their home was in a neighl -irhood infested wit.v. br:gand. or what parsed for brigands, who made frequent incursions into the valleys from their mountain resorts, robbing and ca:;le killing end murdering, pretty much as it pleased them, to which was added the further diversion of pit king up tiavelers and others who wer' worth mcney and holding them for random. "So notorious had their depredations become ami so helpless were the authorities in the -natter that the entire section bade fair to becme a howling as;o. for i ravelers slopped coming and he inhabitants were getting out as fast as they could. I'p to this time Carcia. for tiiat was my ohl friend's name, had been in better buk than most of Iiis neighbors, due largely to the fact that he was a brave man. and hal in his employ on his ranch men who were as quick to light as any brigand in the niouutains. One day, however, the blow struck (larcia. and when he came homo in the evening he found his wife crazy with grief aud the boy carried otr. "He know it was for ransom and waited until the robbers should come to the surface for their booty, believing that the boy would be well cared for as long as there was hope of getting money for him. In a day or two Uarcia received a note to the effect that the boy was safe in the hands of Capt. Manuel, the leader of the gang and the very soul and spirit of it, and that for the sum of $.",000 paid to him. Manuel, the boy would be restored. The reply to the note was to be left in a certain place a dozen miles to the north of Oareia's ranch, and from there Manuel would get it. Oarcia made up his mind at once what to do. and he sent word to Manuel that the money would be paid and asked further instructions. "He was duly notified that he was to come alone to a distant point in the mountains and there deliver the money and get the boy. That was all. and, taking the chances of treachery, he started out. having with him a dozen of his best men. These he left as near to the place of meeting as he dared and went forward alone snne miles. In a remote spot he was met by Manuel, whom In? knew, accompanied by live men. (Jarcia was heavily armed and wore under his clothes a coat of chain mall, for his was a desperate purpose. Manuel at once demanded that Jarcia lay down h's arms as a sign of good faith and hand over the money and they would take him to the boy. If he did not they would kill him and the boy also. "In an Instant (Jarcia replied with a shot that went through Manuel's brain, and then before the others could recover their senses he had killed two of them, next in command. Then, as others came in response to the firing, he started on a wild run down the gorge of the mountain with the bullets raining round him like hail and some of them hitting him. By the miracle that follows men in just such predicaments, he got away with his life, thanks to his chain mail, but lie was badly wounded, and when he reached his own men he fell iu a dead faint, and didn't knowany thing fr two weeks. "When he recovered his senses it was to lind that Iiis wife had died in a hysterical fit and that the boy had been killed by the brigands, or that portion of them left after Oareia's force had finished with them and driven them back into the mountains. That ended the brigand busiKcss in that vicinity for good and all. but Oarcia himself wont about for a long time so r.id and broken-hearted that all that his grateful follow citizens and the country at large could do for him seemed to have but little effect. After ten years the shadow had been dispelled somewhat, and he married again, and though he had a fine wife and good children He could not forget the others, and for forty-five years no man had ever seen him smile, although he was always gentle and kind and good." Dreary ami Doleful. The gloom-pampered pessimist who has as many wrongs to redress and stirrows to bewail as liiere are "quills upon the fretful porcupine," is one of the most depressing of bores, says Dean Hole. He revels in disasters and gloats upon malformations. He goes in quest of disagreeable and discreditable incidents, as a pointer hunts a partridge, and when he finds he stands and points. If you have a crack in your ceiling, or a worn place in your carpet, or a pimple on your countenance, thereupon he fixes his melancholy gaze. Yoa thought that tiny scar on your horse's knee was Invisible to every eye but your own: lie has hardly been in the stable two Minutes before you hear him exclaim. "Been down, I see?" with evident satisfaction to himself. He in so absorbed in contemplating a broken pane in your library window that you cannot induce him to rook at your books. If you admire ft beautiful face he only grunts, "Awful fijnire!" If 3-011 praise nn, of your fellow-men, all you hear Is, "lMty be drinks." The weather never suits him. His cook is an idiot and his butk-r Is a thief. All statesmen are place-hunters, all parsons are hypocrites, all lawyers are knaves, all doctors are quacks. Brave men are mad, generous men are spendthrifts. Chastity 43 an icicle, and honesty dare not cheat The world u

occupied by trrants, rogues and f-v!. He I-? disappointed to l:nd you in go ,1 health, and he regards any demons: ration of cheerfulness r."i;:i an expression which is ghastly, though ir i.- lr.oaa: for a : tii'.le. Like an owl. he blinks in the sunshine, and can ( nly hoot in dark. "Like ih. hoarse raven in the blasted bough." he is over presaging grief and is seldom ; i vjv unless others arc ailing or in troubh. As for himself, he will never allow that If is well, and If the slightest ailment affects him it is a c.;st of mortal illness.

Sometfiin;; New in Windmills. The old-tinie windmill, that towering skeleton of ribs ami fans with which we are familiar, has "' 'inlv been improved, in a fashion that promises much b.'tter results--r.n ir.ereasod rate of power, ami much greater ease of manag ment. Instead f the far. or arms inrning over and over, wheel fashion, the conditions nre reversed, tile aIe being perpendicular, and the fans turning from side to sid". This arrangement has advantages, in thai tiie machinery an be maie stronger, and by an ingeniously contrived se: of levers the fans n-u'ii and close ain - mai.ic;iiiy. This is of great importance, as a sudden gale is liable t wreck an ordinary windmill on short notice. With this new device, it is claimed that no mater how rapidly the fans may revolve, they will catch the wind only at the proper time, the other sid.' opening to give free passage to ;li air; the higher the galt the higher ihe rate of speed and the more etTt ctive the machinry. Irlssaid that iu windy countries enough power can be genera teil to run a small dynamo. The greatest value of a windmill is in countries where continual pumping of water is necessary for purposes of irrigation. A windmill constructed on this new principle cosr-s no more than the old style, is infinitely more effective, less liable to g't out of order, ami has a greater variety of uses than any heretofore made. Fine IVathers. Because a man is always carefully and finely dressed, he is not necessarily vain and shallow. On the contrary, this fact rather argues that he has a low idea of his native bodily charms. Even the extreme types of dandyism men w ho, instead of engaging in professional or business pursuits, are known only as embellisher; of sidewalks, illustrators of the fash ",011s. or professional time-killers are generally capable of higher things. Many of them are masters of the manly art of selfdefence, and pride themselves on kx-v ing their bodies in gxil comlition. Do Quincey observes that many instance:! during the Napoleonic wars showed that in the frivolous dandy might often lurk the most fiery and accomplished aides-de-camp. Did not Wellington pronounce his dandy officers to be lite best? In our Revolutionary war the members of the Maryland Brigade, commanded by Smallwood. "were -Iis tiuguished by the most I'ashionalJy cut coats and the most macaroni cockedhats in the Union." Y'et they displayed unflinching valor when, at the battle of Long Island, they were hemmed in by a superior force. The "foremost man of all the world." Julius Caesar, was a fop. Aristotle loved to array himself in fine clothes; so did Francis Bacon. Claverhouse. the Scottish chieftain. Avas a fop. and under the finish of dress ami levity of behavior, "hid." as Emerson says, "the terrors of his war." AY lien to Try 011 Shoes. You would hardly believe that there are special times and seasons for the trying on of new shoes, but so it is. Yon need a larger pair of shoes in summer than in winter, ami it is always best to try them on in the latter part of the day. The feet are then at tho maximum size. Activity naturally enlarges them or makes them swell; much standing tends also to enlarge the feet. New shoos should be tried on over moderately thick stockings; then yci can put on a thinner pair to ease your feet if the shoes seem to be tight. It is remarkable what a difference the stockings make. If they are too large or too small they will be nearly as uncomfortable as a pair of shoes that are too tight. New shoes can be worn with as much ease as old ones, if they are stuffed into the shape of the foot with cloth or paper, and patiently sponged with hot water. Or if they pinch in some particular spot, a cloth wet with hot water and laid across the place will cause immediate and lasting relief. Milk applied once a week with a soft cloth freshens and preserves boots and shoes. An Old Problem. One of the problems that is as old as the science of mathematics is that of 'squaring the circle." By squaring the circle is meant the problem of finding the sides of a square exactly equal in area to a circle of given diameter. To do this, either by elementary geometry or by expressing it arithmetically in commensurable numbers, has boeu found to be an impossibility. In other words, the ratio between the diameter and the circumference of a circle cannot be exactly found, even though In the division the decimal be carried out to 10,000 figures. The above being the exact facts in the case, w e will say that the problem of "squaring the circle" is one that has long been given up by the mathematicians as insoluble. The Paris Kxposltfon lottery. Subscriptions will shortly bo invited by a number of Paris banks for Ö.-ÖO.-(hV) exhibition lottery hinds of Li) francs each, designed to form the guarantee of the exhibition to be held the year VJOO. Among the prizes will be five ot ÖOß.000 francs each and twentyfour of 100,000 francs each. Mastoilonle Tooth. Well borers at Los Angeles, Cal.. have discovered a mastodon tooth at a depth of forty-six feet beneath the surface. !

WAGES WAfl ON V A LRUS. t Mau! of a Man Whose Son Was "wiled by a t-ca Lion. "Did you ever Iv.w f a strong, aMebedied man going cra.y fr.m grief?" asked Captain Debtü-y of the sioamship City of Pueblo 0:1 ihe water front. "I don't me.Hn tea ' of yor.r highly sensitive creatures." he continued, "but a man d feet 4 inches in his stockings ami a strong as an .x. f su,-h a man I heard during my la-t trip to the sound, lie is a Russian l-'iua and is sensible -Jv every subject save one. He has a vendetta against the walrus and hi cabin in the wilds of Alaska is built up with their skulK "According to th" story toid me by a passenger who 1 a:;;e iow:i with im from th' sound, this man settled iu Alaska years ago. He married a naiivd wn:an and she bore him a son. A few years late;- the mother died, and all the alVeetion of the hali'-savagrt father centered en the son. Nothing was; g.d for the la L and everything in The way of huniieg ami fishing lore was taught hi.;. When the boy was old enough his f:'.tii ir took hir.i out on till his hum ing expedi!i.::!s. and soon ill,. ynr.zslcr Legan working 011 his own account. "One fatal day he attacked an old bull walrus, but inso-ad of killing it he himself was the victim. When tlw failn-r saw the dead body of his son he was wild with grief, which finally settled into a species of made.es. Now all he lives for is to kiil walrus. When the mania first, seized him he lived in a dugout. Now his hut is on the ground and composed almost entirely of walrus skulls. He crawls up behind the brutes while they are asleep, and, seizing them by the tusks, stands them on one end by main force. He looks Into their eyes as though seeking to recognize the one that killed his son, and then his knife does the rest. The head is then cut off ami goes to make one more to the monument he is raising to the memory of his son." San Francisco Call.

Inspired with Cloth. Lord Chesterfield was the prince ot fops, and there are persons who speak contemptuously of him, thinking of him only in connection with "the graces," or his toilet, and preparing impromptus and very elaborate courtesies for the social circle. They are Ignorant or forget that this elegant and courtly man was one of the best lordslieutenant that Ireland evr had, the best speaker of his day in the House of Lords, a graceful essayist, and the wittiest man of quality of his time. Lord Beaconstieltl oiit-Brunimcled Brummel in his dandyism. Uulwer, who inherited a fortune, yet labred in ids art nioro intensely than a bookseller's drudge, was a fop. fastidiously finical in his lress. Thomas Moor' was as particular in the cut of his clothes as la the turn of Ids verse. William l'inkney. the great Baltimore lawyer, was a dandy; and so was X. F. Willis, who, with all his affectations, was a sparkling and attractive writer. Dandyism may spring, in some cases, from pure love of display; but It has othr aud higher causes the desire to please Uing one of them. If a man is by nature "inspired with cloth," if -a divim idea of ckth is born with him," why should he not seek to give to that iIea the happiest, the most perfect, expression, as earnestly as he would give it to any other inborn idea? Fiu' feathers do not make fine birds, it is true; but fine birds generally have fine feathers. Building Materials Under I'ire. Experiments have lately been madi in Vienna to determine the efficiency of various building materials in resisting fire, and in 'special the protection afforded by these to iron work. For this purpose an irm column was omstructed, consisting of two channel bars 5'i;Xl.:i inches, bra-el together by lattice work, and having placed in the space between them various alloys melting at tomperatnivs between 1Ö0 and l.rTo degrees F., this being surrounded by brick work In moitar. forming a pier some eighteen inches square. This column was loaded with sufficient weight to calico a stress of thrio ami a quarter tons per square inch on the Iron work, and placed on a brick chaniler twelve by eight feet in plan and elevated one-half foot high. Fuel was distributed over the llor of this chamber to a depth of three fi'ot, fired for two and a half hours, and then extinguisheil. The next day when tho heat had sufficiently subsided to allow an examination, it was found that although the edges of the brick wrk were crumbled to the extent of one and a half inches, the Iron column was uninjured, and only the test bar. fusing at 150 degrees F., showed any signs of melting. Dividing Time. ' It Is not strange that a proposition, to change the systenof dividing tinio should come from France the home of the metric system. The author of tho scheme, Monsieur De Sarrauton, abandons In advance the attempt to dispense with the hour, but he proposes to divido the hour into one hundred minutes, and the minute Into one hundred seconds, lie also urges the division of the clrclo into two hundred anl frty degrees, each degree to be subdivided into minutes and seconds, like his new hour. Interest ing to Builders. In several of the larger cities companies are to be started to supply mor tar to builders. The buildings in which It is to be made are seven stories la height. The manufacture of mortar will begin on the top floor. By the tlmo the stuff reaches the ground floor thA mortar will be realy for use, ami can be loaded on cars aud wagous through a shute. It will le sold by the ton, aud no sand will be put in uutll it is readjr to be carted away. A