Bloomington Telephone, Volume 14, Number 9, Bloomington, Monroe County, 12 July 1889 — Page 2

tHEC AND NOW,

Dot them remember, low, how pal o and wan This lakelet ere the wintry days were gone, "With one sreea isle of Listening lily leaves? Post thou remember, Iot?, that starless night When the winds ceased their sighing, in affright. And birdu were silent under cottage eaves ? Remembering, strive a moment, love, to guess The woe of hearts unloved, their lonelines, Their deathless pain no hour of rest relieves. How gleams the lake now in the summer light. While drifting lilies, golden-hued and white, Fling back a kindred splendor to the sun t Ere that great darkness nwed us into fear. The silver moon soared slowly, full and clear, To skies where night was ended, just begun. So mayest thou know how gladly I saw afar Thy own sweet face shine like a splendid star ; What peace closed round me when the prize was won.

n

CONSUELO, OK The Story of a Picture. It is about 10 o'clock p. mM the hour when life in its lightest and most frivolous form is on parade in the upper part of New York's great artery of traffic Broadway. Madison Square is brilliant with a thousand lights; tbe great hotels are thronged with idle groups, while up and down the sidewalks continues the steady stream of foot passengers which will not diminish much before midnight. The crowd upon the pavements and in the hotels is frequently augmented for a few minutes by persons leaving the theaters in the vicinity during the entr'acte for an airing, refreshments or cigars. m The crowd on promenade is a motley one, composed for the most part of welldressed men and women, and from the animated tones and gestures, the gay jests and light laughter, dintinguishable above the steady tramp of feet, the rattling of cab wheels and the jingling

f car bells, one might think that care

rested but lightly upon the shoulders

of most who are here. Among the crowd of busy talkers, thoughtless idlers and devotees of pleasure, walking at - a leisurely pace and with a thoughtful air, comes a man whose genius' has already made his name a household word in many lands.

It is Geoffery Tail the artist. The handsome, scholarly face, with its delicate white complexion, its large, soft, black eyes and sweeping black mustache which fringes his sensitive mouth, his carriage and the plain bpt faultless style of his attire, stamp him easily as a man of superior type even to those who do not recogmize in the lone individual the well-known figure of metropolitan life. Above the jargon of sounds in the streets rise occasionally from a side street the tones of a piano-organ, accompanied by the voice of a person singing some Italian songs. The artist pauses for a moment to listen to the unusually pathetic ring of this voice, and as he approaches it is struck by the appearance of the singer. It is a young girl, about sixteen years of age, with a Madonna-like face touched with a look of most exquisite sorrow. It is possible that the coarse-looking Italian yonder can have any connection with this lovely child? It is not of this that the artist thinks as he lingers, throwing coins into the old man's hat. It is of how that lovely face would look on canvas! Suddenly the girl sees his ardent gaze and her eyes droot to the ground, while a color like the first blush of sunrise mantles her cheek. The artist is yet aaore charmed, although he diverts his gaze, still following the couple from street to street. Finally the organ is closed up and the two performers prepare to go home. "Geoffrey Vail approaches the Italian as he is about to go and touches him upon the Bhoulder. "Is it your daughter?" he asks, pointing to the girL The man nods his head. I am an artist and would like to paint her picture,9 said Geoffrey. , The man shook his head in disapproval. "If you will allow her to come to my etudio every day for a month I will pay you liberally. "How much V asked the man, gruffly. "One hundred dollars," answered the artist after a moment's reflection. She would earn me more than that with the organ. "Then we will say two hundred." The man's greed was satisfied, and he consented to the terms. "When shall we commence?" To-morrow, if is suits you," said the artist. "Very well, answered the man, and Geoffrey handed him his card. Geoffrey turned homeward, pleased with his discovery. For a long time he had meditated painting a series of pictures representing the emotions. "Here is my 'Augel of Sorrow' idealized all ready," ho said to himself as he pursued his way through the still crowded thoroughfare home. The pretty Italian found Geoffrey Tail in his studio awaiting her visit on the following day. The strong light in the studio, where the curtains wex e purposely drawn back, revealed to the artist that he had not been deceived with regard to her appearance. The face was delicate, refined and indescribably sad. She had evidently put on her best clothes a dress of some soft black stuff, and a shawl of tie same sable hue wrapped round her head and shoulders. "Yott have posed as a model before?' asked Geoffrey, noting the artistic effect of this simple costume.

"No, said the girl, "never before. "What is your name?" asked the artist. "Consuelo." "Consuelo," repeated the artist, "and you look inconsolable. The girl did ne t understand his remark, but her large, dark eyes were turned upon him wonderingly. "Well, Consuelo, we must make the best of our time, said the artist. " Come I will arrange you as I wish you to sit, and he placed a chair for her, arranging with some care her attitude and drapery. "You do not feel timid, do you V asked Geoffrey, kindly. "6h, no," answered the girl, looking at him with wonder agidn It was in

conceivable to her that she should feel timid in his presence. The grave, gentlo face of the artist had won her conidence completely. Accustomed to rov.gh looks and sometimes blows, the child seemed in the atmosphere of this elegant studio to breathe the air of puradise. But the look of sorrow did not leave her face ; it was too deeply imprinted there. Geoffrey was soon busy with his pencil. An artist, his uoul was in his art. To him the animate beauty was only a stepping-stone to the inanimate, everything lovely creatad that it might be copied on the canvas and immortalized. Consuelo's tfittir.g was not a long one. He thought it best not to tire her too much the first dav. and at the end of the third hour rose from his easel and, thanking her, dismissed her till the morrow. "You will come again, won't you?" said Geoffrev. The girl's look answered him. For the first time that she could remember Consuelo went to her miserable home happy A new vista had been opened to her, She had caught a glimpse of another world with which she seemed to feel some strange kinship. How gladly those days glided by while the angel of sorrow, half real and half the creation of the artist's superb fancy, grew upon the canvas. The last sitting' came. Artist and model were to part. Geoffrey, who had grown familiar with the child, too't her hand in his own when he bade her adieu. (Suddenly Consuelo burst int tears. The artist himself felt unexpectedly and strangely mo red. Even, to him the parting seemed painful. Why? Blind egotism! unknown to himself he

had learned to lovo. Only at this crisis did the truth dimly dawn upon him. But why these teal's of hers? Strange infatuation! Thez. the child must love him also. She then turned away to weep. "Consuelo," he said gravely, "come here." Consuelo came at his bidding. "Look at me straight in the face. "I cannot," she sobbed. "Consuelo, why do you weep?" The face could be doubted no longer except by the blin I. Geoffrey folded her tenderly in his arms, unresisted. ' The lovely head rested upon hss bosom. His lips were pressed to the blushing cheek. "Consuelo, would you like to stay here always to be my wife?" he said rather nervously, half frightened himself. The girl looked at him and seemed to make some sudden resolve. Withdrawing herself from his embrace, she wiped her eyes, and then without another ward or look fled from the studio. "She is frightened, but I must follow her," said the aitist. How soon she had become infinitely precious to him I He hastened to th door, but no trace of Consuelo could be seen. He paused to reflect. He did not know even her address. The Italian had already called for his moiiey. How should he find her? What strange impulse had caused her to turn and fly so suddenly? It was inexplicable, but he must find a key to the mystery. How? Would she not return to her old avocation, accompanying the organ ? If he searched the streets for a few days he would soon find her again. But days, weeks, and months rolled by; and no trace of Consuelo or the Italian rewarded lis anxious search. So his passion died away into a vague and hopeless regret. Nothing remained of Consuelo but the blending of her beauty with his own dreams in the picture. So he devoted himself with renewed ardor to bis favorite pursuits. The "Angel of Sorrow" was completed; extravagant offers were made for it, but the picture was not for sale. Money could not buy it. It was hung in the artist's own studio his greatest; achievement and many wondered as they gazed upon the sorrowful face whonce came the inspiration for it. Geoffrey Vail re ceived many visitors at his studio Wealthy visitors and personal friends brought others often to see the great artist's works, often sadly interrupting him Then he wished to be alone, but always courteously received. Five years had $;one by since his brief love dream had its sudden birth and tragic finale. His gentle face had grown gentler, and perhaps a tirge of sadness crept in between the handsome lines; but he had little to cor lplain of so far as success was concerned. He is busy in his studio when some callers are announced. Thev are foreigners, evidently, from their names. Geoffrey glances carelessly at the card, and, and not reco.nizingthe names, is about to excuse himself, but suddenly changes his mind. His visitors are shown into the studio. A gentleman, refined and distinguished in appearance, and a lady some years his junior. A white veil partly secludes the lady s face. Geoffrey bow d politely, and advances to meet them as they are announced. The g entleman, speaking in French, apologizes for their intrusion and asks permission to look at some of the artist's work, and the lady, who has observed the ar ist's favorite picture, leads her compac ion toward it. After viewing it for tome minutes and exchanging remark j of admiration in their own tongue, the gentleman, turning to Geoffrey, asks hiu if the picture can be purchased.

"On no consideration," replied the artist. "It is reserved at a price which even tbe most extravagant would never care to go to." "Which means that you do not care to sell it?" repliei his visitor. The artist bow ad in acquiescence. "And did you over see a face ( which suggested such beauty ?" asked liis visitor, adding: "J'ardon me, but I have a purpose in inqxiring." "I have seen o:ie,w replied the artist, "with whioh thia creation of mine could but feebly compiue." As he said tb s his eye caught the face of the lady, who had removed her vaLL

"Consuelo!" cried the artist, forget ing his visitors for a moment. But they were smiling at Him pleas-' antly, "Pardon me," he said. Some fancied resemblance compelled mo to utter thai name. The lady approached nearer to him. "Do you remember me, then? she said, softly. The artist looked puzzled and perplexed. "Surely it is Consuelo; but, pardon me, you have changed your name." And he glanced significantly at her companion. "Ah! and you are no more tbe 'Angel of Sorrow'; you might now pose for the 'Angel of Joy " Consuelo seemed to enjoy his perplextty. "And have you not found a true Consuelo also?" she asked, laughingly. The artist shook his head sadly. "Papa, this is Mr. Vail, said Consuelo, turning to her companion, who offered his hand to Geoffrey with a pleasant smile. You are wandering what it all means," said Consuelo, also smiling; "but it's a long story; papa Mill tell you while I look at some pictures around the studio, and if you wish to repeat the question you asked so long ago, which I never answered, repeat it to him." The story was briefly told. Consuelo had been kidnapped from her home in Italy and shipped to New York. After many years she had been traced and returned to her parents. She had fled from Geoffrey's presence because ashamed of her humble origin and parentage, believing the pardoneto be her father, and had been rescued immediately aferward. In Italy she had been educated, previously exacting from her father a promise that as soon as her education was completed he would bring her to Now York. Such a story could have but one sequel a happy marriage. It was assuredly a happy one, and soon after it Geoffrey commenced the twin picture. Largely Their Own Fault. It may bo a divine decree . that the farmer should eat his bread in the sweat of his face, but it is a human invention of questionable utility that he should also support all the rest of mankind, and, and especially those who eat their bread without the perspiration that comes from honest toil. Yet this is an old custom and has the sanction of centuries. The complaint that the .producer, the creator of wealth, is allowed to keep but a small share of it for his benefit and is obliged to give the greater part of it to an idle aristocracy and fill the pockets of millionaire, and then bear the burden of taxation with the little strength and substance left him, is by no means new. It caused historic troubles and disputes at ancient Borne, great wars . in the middle agest and more or less dissatisfaction almost all the time since. But in spite of all the kicking and twisting, the farmer still "works and pays." As a proper subject of taxation, real estate is bound to play an important part, and there should be no special objection to it. But there is a limft to indulgence and there should be no taxation. To make a man pay taxes on real estate which he does not own is against common sense, against common justice, and against common decency. The interest on the mortgage is sweat money, the tax on mortgaged property is blood money. This taxation is unjust and opjjressive, and the victim is justified in making the most strenuous efforts to free himself. The query is, how to do it. Legislatures seem natur ally inclined to take sides with the holders of mortgages and against holders of mortgaged property, with the rich against the poor, and the latter class can only hope to make their lawgivers enact laws that will effectively correct this shameful abuse, if they find means to compel them. The individual can do nothing. But a farmer's organization in each town can easily compel one or the other of the candidates, before and election is held and a vote delivered, to give the desired promise and guarantee to secure redress by proper legislation. The matter is importantenough to be vigorously agitated, tit farmers allow themselves to be not only shorn of their wool but skinned besides, it is largely their own fault. Farm and Fireside. Kiss -Em This Way, Boys. Said a young friend to me the other day, "I am getting tired of having my hair upset, and my corsage bouquet torn all to pieces by beginners, and I believe if the dear boys were only told how to go about it they would not make such a mess of it." I tell you candidly, boys, that there is no necessity of grabbing a girl as though she had stolen a pocket book, and making a lurch at her as though you had accidentally stepped one foot in a coal hole while walking rapidly along the street. There is no actual necessity to get a clutch on her dress and try to tear it off, or turn her over inside of it. There is no necessity oi pulling her head forward with such intensity that her eyes are endangered by scarf-pins and long pencils protruding from upper vest pockets. There is no use firing a kiss promiscuously at her eye or ear or neck. To begin with, the girl is not trying to get away. Keep cool ; bear in mind that you have the soulful sympathy of your victim, and your aims are identical that she has at much at stake as you have. Keep perfectly cool and collected; gently insert your right coat sleeve about her Directoire costume, aud turn her gently toward your manly form. Place your other and as yet unoccupied arm in such a position as the exigencies of the occasion seem to demand, and give a gentle and soulful pull, as Amelie Kivea Chandler calls it. By this time the rosebud mouth," as you see fit to call it, is turned toward you. Lean over gently and let Nature do her work. That's all. Girls don't like it any other way, boys. Clara Louise, in Detroit Sun. In the natural course ol events the green apple and the green melon and the small boy will soon come into collision, FitUtburgh Commercial

The Decline In Drapery, What a blessed and beautiful provision of nature it is that the human mind can accommodate itself to whatever is the fashion of the raommnt, and feel that it is the very best:, and nicest, and prettiest of anything ever yet invented ! A few years ago, when every fashionable lady was condemned to drag fifteen or twenty yards of dry goods after her under the name of "drapery," everybody exclaimed, "How graceful! how becoming I how artistic !" It is true that by the timo the said drapery had been in wear a fortnight, it looked as if it had been wadded into a cannon and firejd out; but, nevertheless, we clung to it, and pressed it out, and took care not to sit on it "any more than Ave could help; and when we saw the back part, of any other lady'a dress wrinkled and dowdy, we involuntarily glanced over our shoulders to assure ourself that we were not in the same condition. The utmost skill of the dressmaker was brought to bear in draping this superabundance of back attachment; and when any of the numerous loopings" ripped out, as they were prone to do, consternation reigned in the breast of the wearer, for one mig;ht as well have tried to navigate the pathless ocean without a compass, as to essay to put the thing to rights without experienced assistance. That was. the time when we all felt that indeed "we are fearfully and wonderfully made."' Now the fashion items tell us that draperies are no more. Every thing is straight. No more bunched-up abominations to catch the dust and try the pa tience. And they tell us that the new style is "lovely." All new styles are. "The king is dead. Long live the king!" Let us all forthwith be straight. Fashion pays no regard to individual necessities. She dictates one style for all. The tall and the short, the lean and the fat all come out clothed in one general uniform. And we all admire it, which shows our good nature, and our disposition to be resigned to circumstances. Sleeves so tight that they stopped the circulation and swelled the veins in the handd to the size of clothes-lines, were fnronunced charming in their day and generation; and now the meal bags which ore called sleeves, with strings tied around them at intervals, are so h classical' and so picturesque! and our young girls promenade the streets looking like pictures of their own grandmothers, and beautiful in whatever costume they put on God bless them! But still it takes as much material as ever to make a dress. We need not .Hatter ourselves that any decline in drapery is going to lessen our dry-goods bill, or our dressmaker's bill either. When everything was ruffled and sideplaited, we were told that it took so much to make the trimmings; and now when everythinis severely simple, we ire told that these classic folds are so difficult to arrange, and that it requires so much thought and study to get up fashionable sleeves and corsages. Well, the dry-goods dealers and the dressmakers must live, of course; and if anybody thinks that the dressmaker's charges are exorbitant, let her go to trork and try to construct a dress herself; and before she gets in order the ?anvas, and tho braid, and the cambric, and the springs, and the hooks ar d eyes, and the buttons, and the whalebo:ae, and the sleeve-protectors, and the pocket, and the overcasting, and the thousand other mattei's that go to make up a finished dress, she will be willing to pay for the making of hor next dress, and pay the modiste's own price. Kate Thorn, in New York Weekly. Trout That Remembered. "Spme time before the death of Seth Green, the celebrated fish culturist and naturalist," said a gentleman who takes great interest in piscatorial matters recently, "I paid a visit Mith him to the fish hatcheries at Caledonia. In one of the ponds there, at that time, there were 5,000 large brook trout, every one of which had been captured with the fly in unfrequented brooks iu the Adirondack region. These trout. Mr. Green said, had convinced him that fish had reasoning power and memory. When they were hooked, he said, and were reeled slowly in by the careful fishermen who were capturing them for the State pond, they had time and opportunity to n -te the form and character of the tackle that made them prisoners. According to Mr. Green they never forgot that experience. The trout had been in the pond a long time, the females never being allowed to spawn there, and would follow Sir. Green as he walked along the edge of tho water, tossing bits of liver into the pond. To show that his theory about their memory and reason was correct he would carry a cane and a fish-rod concealed behind his back. If he took the cane from its concealment and held it out over the water the fish paid no attention to it, but the moment he poduced the rod with its reel and line attached away the trout scampered like a flash to distant parts of the pond. Mr. Green told me that he would permit tiny one to cast a fly in that pond to hut heart's content, 'as he was satisfied that not one of the trout would come near it, so vividly did they remember their enemy of five years ago." "Is It Catching,"" Why should intelligent persons, as if they were parrots, adopt and utter certain phrases and exclamations? I sat by Mrs. Blank (her husband is a clergyman) in the street car a few days ago, and after we had exchanged greetings, I said, "My cousin Angeiine sails from Liverpool to-day." "Is that so!" said Mrs. Blank. .."Yes," I said, rallying as well as I could, for this reply takes all the spirit from me, "and she is always very ill on the ocean." "Is that so!" said Mrs. Blank again. A pause followed. How can one continue to pay out the coin of conversation if not even the interest comes back? I was glad to get out of the car and meet pretty Amy Dexter, I had a bit of news lor her. Amy is in the high school, and I told her at ence that Miss Cummins, who taught her botany last year, U to ba married soon, "la that so !" and I hastened oia to get out of ita way; but as I

went along Frank Sullivan overtook m and will you believe that when I asked Frank if Mr. Htockton had really promised to answered the question "The Lady or the Tiger?" he exclaimed, "is that so!" Later in the day I 'told Mr. Emory that his playing of the organ last Sunday had been much complimented, and he smiled and murmured, "Is that sol" Wide Awake. The Hohenzollems' King.

One morning of the winter of 1865, in tho Adjutant's chamber of the royal palace, the royal Treasurer, Mr. Geisling, entered, carrying a long, doubly sealed package. The address on the package, written by King Frederic William IV., was ia eflect: "I Lave Opened this package in the presence of my sister Louise of the Netherlands, have taken cognizance of its contents, and then sealed it again with my seal, thereupon restoring it for safe keeping to the Prince Wittgenstein." A few days afterward there was found accidentally in the manuscript collection of the Berlin Royal Library, m an old folio volume, entitled "Alchemy of the Old Electors and Various Other Superstitiosa.' a notice that King Frederic IL, as the commencement of his reign, had, among various other things, also found a little box containing a ring with a bh.ck stone and a slip of paper by King Frederic I., on which was written about the following: "This ring has been given to me by my father, of blessed memory, upon his death bed, with the remark that so long as this ring shall be preserved in the house of Brandenburg this would not only grow but increase and thrive visibly." Another notice, referring apparently to the same ring, said: "It is said-that a princely person has brought in a large toad and set it upon the head of the Princess, who was at that moment in child's iabor; this toad vomited forth a golden ring, mounted with one diamond and two rubies. This ring is still, at present transmitted to the first-born oi: the house to the memory aud intended good fortune and preservation of the owner." Rumor has connected this ring with one i&'iid to have been drawn from the dying King Frederic William II. 's linger by tho Countess Lichtonau. This says that luck left the Hohenzollems in 1806, when the Countess possossod herself of the ring; she was treated harshly and unjustly by Frederic William III., and when finally she returned it in 1813, lor a life pension, luck accompanied it. When she took the ring from the dying King's fingr he exexclaimed feebly: "Her den ring" (return the ring;) it was overheard by other persons, and, upon being interro-

I gated, the wily Countess said the King

nau expressed a ucsire ior nemng. The late Emperor William was thoroughly free from mysticism, yet, from his manner of talking on this subject, he appeared as if he placed implicit faith in the power of the ring credited to it by the accompanying notices and remarks by his ancestors. "Life ojf Emperor William.9 Built H is Own Home. On Highland avenue, Maiden, stands a large and handsome stone house, which, having beeu in process of construction foir the past four years, has at last arrived at completion and is now pointed out by the inhabitants as i standing witness ef what the skill and industry of one man, alone and unaided, can accomplish. The builder is. a one-armed man, Mr. C. OBlomerth, who has been a newsdealer in Maiden for the past thirty-two years;. When seen by a Herald man yesterday afternoon he related the story of the work as follows: wIn 188G I started to builcl a house, and, as I had previously built a small one alone, I determined to build a home for mvself and family on which no labor but that of my own should be expended, and I have at last accomplished my task, the only help I have had being man to mix my mortar. The house is built of rough stone, of such a size that a single man could handle them, laid in red mortar, and is three stories high. The trimmings are of brick, aid inside the stone work is a complete wooden frame hou.se. Tbe roof is made of rooting paper fastened together with a composition of my own., which is also used around tho chimneys and in various other places instead of lead or tin. In the second year of the work, while busy near the rooi, I fell a distance of thirty feet, and was so badly injured that I could do nothing more for a year. Of course, my one arm ha;t been a severe drawback, but I have managed by various devices and a liberal use of nails to get along very well, I have built all my own scaffoidaug, and put in without help the roof timbers. I paint everything thoroughly before putting it up, so that after finishing I have uot the trouble of staging and ladders to paint high places. The house ia large and commodious, and hi tilled with odd little ideas of my ownIt also contains, some interesting relics ; mv front steos are taken from the Uni versalist church here and are the same steps that I set up on thai; church thirty-live years ago, when I had two hands." Mr. Blonerth is a Swede by birth,, and came to this country thirty-five years ago. He lost his right hand thirty-two years ago in a mill accident, and since that time has sold papers in Maiden. He is a bright, energetic man, and now that be has a home proposes to rest and enjoy it Boston Herald. Birds' Kest Soup. Chinese birds' neet soup is a tasteless, gelatinous compound, according to the palate of Western nations. These nests are most plentiful in British North Borneo, where they are found in caves. They are made from a soft fungoid growth thflit incrusts the limestone in all damp places; it grows about an inch thick, outside dark brown, inside white. It is taken by the bird in ita mouth and drawn out in a filament backward and forward like a caterpillar weaving his cocoon. These ' birds" are bats and swifts. The nests are gathered by, candle light at the dizzy hight of several hundred i'eet ; these caves have boon worked for seva ge rations, without auy apparent diminution, though three crops are gathered in a year Good Housekeeping.

CLKCUS ANIMALS AT WORK. A Deoperato Fight Between tbe Elephant axtri the Rhinoceros On Steamer, "I have seen a great deal of the world, and have braved many a storm at sea, and never felt the least tremor, said an old sailor, "but I am willing to confess 1 1 was frightened on one occasion, and braver men than me trembled in their boots. J was about fifteen years ago, and I as a sailor on ono of the steamers employed to transport John liobinsous Great World's Exposition. As wo neared a little port on the Ohio Rive, near West Virginia, I was on the upper deck, when, looking be low, I saw the sailors and the keepers of the animals running (helter-skelter, and heard an unusual commotion. I quickly hurried below and found menr women, and children running wildly to and fro, frantically shouting to the other steamers, while at the same time there arose a series of shrieks, screeches, yells, and howls, as if the inmates oi pandemonium were let loose. "The people who had collected on the shore to see the fleet as it approached were unable to make out the strange behavior of those on board the steamer, but surmising that everthing was not all right among the animals of th e menagerie, they very quickly concluded that the open levee was no place for them should any of the furious monsters make their way to the land, and quickly dispersed in great consternation. Just about this time signals of distress were hoisted, which were quickly responded to by two steamers a short distance away They both ranged alongside our steamer, when they were informed that an awful battle was raging between the huge double-horned rhinoceros and the monster war elephant, Old Emperor. As soon as the ladies ana children could be transferred to the new steamers the entire crews of the three steamers were ordered below to endeavor to separate the combatants. "As the portion of the main deck just off the boilers was reached, a horribly sickening sight met their view. Wounded, bleeding, and horribly lascerated men weye lying where they had teen stricken down by the terrible brute ; dead, wounded, and dying horses and ponies strewed the deck ia every direction; cages destroyed and literally smashed into fragments were scattered among the dead, wounded, and dying, and the terrible din, shrieks, grunts, and groans plainly told them that the battle was fiercely raging. It seemed as if every cage on the boat would be literally destroyed, and all efforts to separate the savage denizens of the forest proved unavailing. At this juncture a loud crash was heard, and the two cages containing the monster sea lions and the Labrador seals wore driven overboard. Mr. Robinson seemed to be very cool and collected for a man who was "witnessing the destruction of his property at wholesale rate, incurring the loss of thousands of dollars at every new onset. When he saw his sea lions and seals dashed overboard, however, he decided that patience was no longer a virtue, and ordered the combatants tired upon. A heavy volley was discharged, which had no other effect on the monsters, now thoroughly aroused, that to make them fight au the more furiously. The situation wsa getting every moment more danjerous for all cn board, and the proprietors had almost despaired of ever separating them when it occurred to some one on board to open the steam pipes and deluge thorn with steam. 44 The engineer was instructed to turn on the steam, and as it suddenly escaped from the boilers with a terrific roar, the elephant was heard to give a shrill trumpeting screech, such sh they always utter in crying for mercy when conquered in their native wilds. Whether the animal had received its death-blow from the rhinoceros, or was frightened irto submission by the steam oould not be ascertain ed until it h ad cleared away, which it did ia few moments, disclosing to the astonished gaze of the showmen a curious and gratifying sight. T here lay the huge elephant oh the deck, cowering and trembling, uttering moans of pain and fright, while a little beyond wa& the rhinooeroa snugly enseonced in ids cage, quaking and shivering with feiar where he had. retreated the instant the steam was opened on him. The attendants sprang quickly forward, and closed and bolted the door of his cage, thus securing themselves from further molestation from him. The horses, ponies, and smaller animals that had been killed in the battle were ca$t overboard, the

deck was washed and1 quiet once more restored, after one of 'the hardest battles ever witnessed between animals on the water." - - t. Women Physicians "One of the most absurd arguments used against a girl Who wishes to become a physician," aid a blue-eyed, fair-haired medical student in petticoats, the other day, "is that! the disagreeable sights and experienced of the dissecting room, if they do noi altogether over power her fortitude, will coarsen her feelings and destroy her delicacy. . Bah, I say, to snob mawkisp "sentimentality. No one thinks it hardens a girl to nurse a sick person, and yetI tell youthat in ministering to the siok imd the dying and the dead in the cajpaoi ;y of a nurse, I have seen sights asf ghfstly and performed far more distasteful and exhausting labor than I i would have been called on. to do if I had been the physician ; and all the time I knew nothing of that keen interest ) in the scientific part of the work wlihjh I now have, that so absorbs rpy attention and thoughts that whptt is revolting to others is by me almost unnoticed." Tliuhjfal Dog. A remarkable caste of a dogs fidelity is reported from jJeftetson, Fla. The animal, called, "Zlla," belonged to ft physician who diedUately. He accompanied the funeral party to the ceme tery, and ever&incej twice a day morniug and nighthe hU& visited the grave and aeverat times hab hsen sitting upon it as though expectiiig the deceased to appear. A man, who resembled the doctor, reports thai more than once "Zolla" has met him (ort the street, followed him home, and sat for bourn an front of the door.