The Lebanon express. (Lebanon, Linn County, Or.) 1887-1898, March 19, 1887, Image 1

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How tn Make Pofm.
"Pray, tell me truly. I aaid tr ange,
Ti- maso-r of mt iei I- a mm
Who hud rva-l every p m wjr Br
No mm tr by wti hi . i . .r wb.;
"Pray, tell m ony. h'W po m an- made.
(I knew thii. tuil many .i .hue
Toe Mr In thy grove of lb? Mu had
And h tl clothed fcU bright fanoKH i t
"Let ur K-iiius, tny son," he replied, "bava
lis ajr.
In apl . In defiance of "nse;
But aov.-m riiiht w-si lis ayjitneitcil play"
On number and (render and tens
' For, know J' u. hi liuv-s the hISI t us divine
K-d a Hi" in a at-natble way.
Jui as many a b nnd of most deiteate wine
N in a relsl i to r o il bouquet.
Vrl, ihotifrh -ii8 iM tku touxin are oft to
To hc.p iho rliyme-: avl nb!m out,
That rbym is tue rudder of veiae, under-amn-u
To is not a aciiitlla of . uub.
8o ihiw. tf yi ti'd e 'tint on tu Muse a yout
And wou.d never in poetry fail,
Gufcie the acnaw of y.)ur lines ly the rhymes
Just as lu chera steer oalves by the tail.
It "a he jt ia tmit p raf-s tne .1 v mgtf uar
The music of rhyti m and tbyiio-;
Keep tbia well In nitmt, and. my son, never
But you'll rank aa a poet In time.
G:ith Brittle.
A life wit pnssiug away, softly and
gently it was gliding into eternity. No
eminent physician watched its decay; i
no wealtn eased its pnintul joitinrs j
alone the road to death; yet no word
passed Clara Lester's lips; no traitorous
cry that her burden was greater than
sue could bear csnw lrom iier loyal I
heart. Tain had traced many a wrinkle
on ber fair forehead, but her brows bad 1
never been drawn together in angry i
Bel Urmson. loving her sister devoted-J
ly, and tending her daily, was kept in j
ignorance of her d inger, and never sus- !
pected the slenderness of her hold on J
life. Bel omy saw that Clara was
young, anu ueauttiui. nnu ueiicate. xes,
she was delicate; but then Clara had
been delicate from her chitdtiood, and
in-e that dreadful morning when news
came to tiit tn that the steamship Cawn
pore had been wrecked off the African
coast, aud Capt Lester's name had ap
peared among the passengers drowned
ir missing, his young bride Clara Les
ter had. a Margaret expressed it, never
raised ber head. Death and her sister
were, however, never associated in Bel
Urmson' mind. Ciara was delicate
and that was all.
Three years had run their course since
the wreck- of tbeCawnpore and (.apt.
Leeter had never come back to his wife;
and now. she wbisjiereJ to herself, she
was going to him.
Before Bel had attained her 18th year
she was engaged to be married to Lieut.
Hey wood, a young officer iu the tn
Hussars; but a misunderstanding had
arisen between them, nnd tbej parted.
Clara used to say to her, "1 am sure
there is only some foolish mistake be
tween you. and some day Lieut. Hey
wood will come back to you and every
thing will be explained."
But Bel had laughed scornfully at
Clara's prophecy and refused to place
any onfidence in iu Her disappoint
ment had shaken her confidence in hu
man goodness and integrity, aud she
became suspicious, reticent, and sar
castic. But gradually Clara Lester's in
fluence efle -ted a change, and two
years later Bel Urmson had learned to
love again and was once more engaged
to be married.
One morning Bel was seated on a
low stool by her sister's couch, her chin
resting on her hand and her eyes gaz
ing vacantlr on the floor. She had
been silent for a long time, when
denly she Kjxjke.
"I thought ought to know
I had loved before, and so I told
the story of my love. Was I right?"
and she turned her dark, handsome
face to her sister, while her glorious
brown eyes seem to repeat Jier question.
'Was 1 riht?"
Quite ritrhl." Clara answered; "you
have only tor. staiteil the advice 1 in
tended to give you to-day. And he, Bel
what did Air." Harvey say?"
A blush crept np the girl's cheeks,
and her eyelids drooped for an instant
as she said:
1 don't think he liked it. Clara, he
looked so disappointed; but he said very
little. But I do love him. and he has
no cause for jealousy. But he is jealous
jealous as Othello" and with a light.
careless laugh she turneit away.
"I'm sure Bel does not love him." the
sister murmured, squeezing her fingers '
together in agony at the thought.
I have come earlier than usual."
said John Harvey, who now entered.
The fact is. I have received a telegram
from my father informing me of his ar
rival in'Eugland and requesting my im
mediate presence in Southampton, be
cause, as he expresses it, he is not so
well. I do not suppose it is anything
serious; nevertheless. 1 am obliged to
leave Sutton to-night."
I am sorry," Clara said. "1 hope
yon will find him better. John," she
continued, leaning over and laying her
hand in his. "my life is so uncertain. I
may never see you again. Don't start
the thought is not new to me. Prom
ise me I will not ask you to swear it,
for a man's word should be binding as
his oath but promise me now, before I
die, to be always kind to Bel."
Startled and surprised though he was,
without a moment's hesitation he an
swered: I promise. To the utmost of mv
power I will be good to your darling'
Thank you. she murmured as her
sister and the nurse made their appear
ance. "And now. if you will take Bel
away. Margaret shall help me go to my
room. Good-by. John."
He shook hands with her, expressing
hope that when he returned he should
find her stronger. Then he and Bel
walked to Uie email iron gate which
divided Mr. Lester's miniature garden
from Sution Common, and pausing
there he as-Wed:
"Bel. will you write to me while I am
They had been engasred only a month,
and this was their first reparation; nev
ertheless, she answered with, warm de
cision: "Xo; you will live on my letters and
be in no harry to come back to me."
That same "night, Cian Lesier found
the release for which she had so long
"I will neer listen
to auv of Bel's
road projects again," was John Har
ver's mental resolution as he stepoed
out upon the platform of Sutton Sta
tion. "I have been away only a fort
night, and it seems an age since I bade
her good-by at the gate."
As be approached the cottage his at
tention was attracted by the figure of a
gentleman walking before him he was
the stranger who had spoken to the
porters at Sutton Station.
He was several yards in advance of
John Harvey, not walking in the desul
tory, purposeless manner of a stranger,
but like one who, having an object to
accomplish, was already in view of the
goal for its attainment
-A fine fellow!" was John's soliloquy.
"But 1 wonder who be is and where he
is going."
Almost in answer to the query the
stranger pushed open the gate of the
cottage, and, eutering, closed it behind
In a few seconds more John Harvey
gained the gate and, pausing outside,
looked once more on the dear familiar
scene. The fine old chestuut spread out
its branches in the sunlight, and yield
ed the same cool shelter under its leaves
which it had yielded a fortnight before,
but Clara's coach was no longer there.
Only the small, rustic table and wide
garden-seat were there, and on a low
cnair beside the table, her face buried
on her crossed arms, was Bel Urtuson.
The stranger had walked silently and
unnoticed across the greensward, aud.
standing within a few yardsof her, was
attentively regarding her.
The girl raised her head and looked
at him. then, grasping the back of her
chair, slow ly rose to her feet.
With a little cry of joy she ran to him
aud he folded her in his arms and kissed
her. She did not shrink from his ca
resses; on the contrary, she put her arms
around bis neck and kissed him.
Gently and tenderly he led her to the
earden"seat; and. seated there, their
voices became an indistinct murmur to
John Harvey, aud he heard no more.
"1 know him now," he muttered be
tween his clenched teeth; "Lieutenant
Heywood the old lover."
With an imprecation still on his lips
he turned his back on the scene of his
happiest hours.
Ten o'clock was striking when John
Harvey returned to "The Griffin," and
half an hour later be had left Sutton
Two days after his departure Bel
Urmson held in her hands a letter from
him bidding her farewell and telling
her that, though be could not but grate
fully appreciate her endeavor to love
him. yet knowing as he did know that
she had never forgotten her first love he
had decided to adopt the only course
left open to him and go away.
With a pale face aud trembling fin
gers Bel read the letter, then she folded
it up and laid it away in her desk.
At ten minutes to 8 o'clock on the
morning of the 30th of June, five years
after Mrs. Lester's death, the bell over
the porch of the Tillage school at Cuip
dendale rang out its summons. Ding
dong, ding-dong, pealed along High
street from end to end. over the play
ground rolled the lusty tones and the
children stopped their play as they re
cognized the familiar "iron tongue"
and with one accord hastened to the
Boys and girls rushed together, push
ing, laughing, shouting, striking out at
each other as oue or the other gained a
momentary advantage in the race to be
first at school.
Good morning, children.
The voice was full and pleasant and
the smile broadened into a grin on the
little faces as the speaker left her desk
and came toward them. She had a
word ant! a smile for each, for it was
the opening day of school after the mid
summer holidays and rules were re
laxed and a little license permitted by
even so strict a disciplinarian as Bel
Yes. she was Miss Urmson still Dot
quite the same Bel of live years before,
for sorrow and care had washed the
roses from her cheeks; but uo one gaz
ing on the pale, beautiful face ever
doubted the fact that ber spinsterhood
was maintained from her own choice.
She was standing up, the children
gathered around her preparatory to
their dismissal at noon, when the door
opened aud the Vicar of Chippendale
entered, followed by a gentleman.
Good morning. "Miss Urmson," he
said, shaking hands with her and nod
ding to the children. "I am glad you
have not dismissed your scholars, as I
wished my friend to see them. 1 can
not myself ttay to give him any infor
mation about them; but if you will
kindly tell him about them 1 shall feel
very much obliged. Mr. Harvey, Miss
Startling and uncxected as the meet
ing was, Bel did not lose her self-possession.
The coldest, stillest inclination
of her head acknowledged the introduc
tion, then she turned aside and remain
ed silent, with a ringing in her ears
that alii'ost deafened her. and a mist
before her eyes which blinded her to
everything save the face of John Har
vey. But presently she saw by the
children's movements that the vicar
was leaving; she heard his retreating
footsteps and. after a pause, she raised
her head anil said:
"Children, yon may go."
Quietly and decorously they trooped
out of the room, but not until their foot
steps had died away did she turn to
John Harvey.
"Why did you come here?" she asked.
1 certainly did not come with any
idea that I should see you." he replied.
1 need hardly assure you that had 1
known of your presence here I should
have avoided coining to Chippendale
"ihen you would still shun me?"
"1 would. It is the wisest, the omy
course I can pursue,"
Sue was silent, debating within her
self whether to bid him go and pursne
the same ccurse again or to detain him
and ask for an explanation of the letter
still locked away in her desk. It was
more dignified, more consonant with
her self-esteem to eend him away, but
ber weak, loving, womanly nature re
belled against the putting aside of
probable happiness.
"You sent a letter some years ago."
she began, hesitating and blushing like
a guilty child. "1 never understood it;
will you explain it to me now?'
He looked at her and smiled. What
coquets all women are! And Bel. beau
tiful Bel. was as tickle as the rest She
had wavered between the old and the
new love years ago, when he bad gone
away and left her to be true and now
be found her still unmarried, working,
struggling for her daily bread, and de
siring to win him back a desire as
despicable as It was futile.
"Bygones are best left to slumber,"
he said. "1 will wish you good morn
ing." "Don't go," she said gently. "Tell
me what you meant?"
"When Lieut. Heywood came back to
claim his own what could 1 do but ab
dicate?" "Lieut Heywood?" she repeated,
knitting her brows in petplexity. "I
have not Seen him."
Perhaps uot lately." he said and
laughed. Then, becoming suddenly
grave, he continued: "1 wish you would
try to understand me without forcing
me lo be more explicit"
'Speak plainly. I have nothing to
fear in any revelation you can make."
Proudly, fearlessly her eyes met his,
and for the first time there dawned on
him the possibility that be had been
mistaken in tho identity of Lieut Hey.
wood; but no, that was not possible!
Nevertheless hia manner softened as he
"Then listen. The Thursday that 1
proposed to return to Sutton I did re
turn. At The Griffin' 1 heard of Mrs.
Lester's death, tilled with tenderness
aud love for you; but some one preced
ed me thither a young, good-looking
man, with the unmistakable military
stamp upou him. He went to you and
1 paused at the gate and saw you meet
him. 1 did not blame you. child; to be
true to him you had to be false lo me;
but" with a flickering smile, "perhaps
you know I was Very jealous, eveu from
the first of Lieut Hey wood."
It was long since Bel Urmson's face
had worn so happy and blissful a snide.
"It was not Lieut. Heywood who
came to me that evening, but my brother-in-law,
Capt Lester."
Capt Lester! He was drowned be
fore 1 met you."
"So we thought, but we were mis
taken. He was picked up by an African
coasting vessel and carried to Loan ;o,
and thence to several places on the Con
go. He was kept a prisoner for several
years, and," with a little shudder. i
cannot tell you all the cruelties ihiy
nia-le him sutler. Finally he effected
bis escnK5 and lauded in Ivigland a
fortnight after Clara died."
Her voice shook a little and she paus
ed. "Do you biame me hot," she ked.
and then broke down in a waiting.
Eiteous cry. "John, forgive me. for I
ave been true iu my love for yon."
"My poor love!" he whispered.
Tobicco-GruwinT In England.
In reply to an inquiry as to the result
of his experiment in tobacco-growing.
Lord Harris, writing from Huntingtield,
Faversham. says: '"My experiment has
been so far less elaborate than Mr. De
Laune's that an account of it would
lack the interest raised, and justly so.
in his attempt to prove the feasibility
of growing and drying tobacco in En
gland. 1 planted about ten rods in a
garden at Belmont with two sorts (the
broad leaf and long leaf), but the inter
vals two feet by three feet were not
sufficient to allow of passage between
the plants when in full growth, and
consequently many suckers which
should have been nipped out on ap
pearance, shot up and robbed the leaves
that formed the crop. They also knock
ed each other about a good deal in
high winds, the land was not man
ured, but it is good land, and the
plantation grew so vigorously as to
resemble a tropical jungle. 1 "cut very
late in September, after there had been
two or three slight frosts, but the plants
seemed in no war affected. In harvest
ing 1 strictly followed printed instruct
ions and split the stems from the top to
within a few inches of the base. The
crop cut was made an inch or two
lower, and the plants straddled over
laths, which were removed by the
wagon-load to a green-house and rest
ed on a temporary structure. i e found
the stem of the long-leaved varietv fur
more woody than that of the broad
leaved. My intention had been to pro
duce the yellow or golden-colored tobac
co, but 1 found I could not get the bouse
above 110 degrees in the middle of the
day, bo I had to be contented with
gradual drying, resulting only in a
brown tobacco. I have had uo one in
the trade down as yet to see my crop,
so it is impossible for me to say whether
my experiment has been so successful as
Mr. De Lauue's, but to my inexperi
enced eye there is little difference as to
appearance and texture between the two
crops. I should imagine that it is im
possible as yet to draw any comparison
between our samples aud any imported,
say American tobacco, because it is
evident that the latter, wnatever the
process of packing may be, must under
go some pressure, whereby fermenta
tion is set up. and I am inclined to
think that it has been the omission of
this last process which has induced
poople who have surreptitiously smoked
English-grown tobacco to declare that
it was flavorless." Lord Harris adds
that no difficulties whatever have been
thrown in the way by the excise officers.
London Tunis.
A New Way to Oet an Appetite.
This morning a dyspeptic-looking
man entered a blacksmith shop at Koinl
out lie waited until the blacksmith
put a hot shoe to the foot of the horse
that was being shod, when he bent
down and drew in with his nostrils sev
eral draughts of smoke that rose from
the burning hoof. After the man left
the shop a rexrter of the A'rerm'tt ask
ed the blacksmith if the man who hail
just taken his departure was crazy. 0,
no," responded the blacksmith, "he is
onlv working up an appetite. Strange
as it may appear to you, vet the fact is
true that inhalation into the lungs of
smoke from a horse's hoof when it is
being shod is the best appetizer in the
world. That man you saw here will
now go home aud eat a good square
meat lie came into the shop for an
appetite and went away hungry. I have
on an average five patients a day who
visit my shop for an appetizer. Kings
ton ( x.) Jfrteman.
1, .
Marrlaa-e Cuntoma Among the Faithful
- Servant of tlie Saltan.
All weddings in Turkey, among
Turks, w hether in provinces or cities,
are arranged by old women and are
complicated, tedious affairs. The bride
groom holds .fete several days at his
home for his men friends, and the
prosjiective bride at her home with her
youug friends girls, of course. The
night before the wedding the married
women of her acquaintance come and
eat the married woman's dinner with
her. which consists principally, as Sam
Weller would say, of a "swarry' of leg of
mutton aud trimmings. The next day
the bride is taken to the bridegroom's
house in a sedan chair, with a retinue
of slaves carrying her wedding presenta
on trays on their heads, covered with
colored tarlatan. The procession is
Bometiroes quite imposing. The bride's
female relatives are also there in the
new harem until nightfall, and they re
tire to their homes, leaving the bride
sitting on a sort of throne, veiled. The
bridegroom Is then admitted, and he is
to throw himself at the bride's feet and
offer her his wedding present of some
hnmbwnie jewelry and beg her to raise
her veil and strike him blind by her
beauty. Sometimes he is struck dumb
by her ugliness, for he never looks on
her face until after the wedding.
When a babe is born in any house
there is great rejoicing if it be a boy,
less if a girl. The wife is proud for a
mhile, but Turkish women are not good
wothers. They are too child-like them
selves. When'a girl is born to a Sultan
tiiey tire seven guns; when a boy. twenty-one.
The bovs die early; the girls
are more apt to live. This is supposed
to be a divine interposition of Provi
dence to prevent too many claimants
to the throne. Babies are dressed like
mummies iu swaddling clothes for six
months; then the boys are put in trous
ers, sometimes iu generals' or colonels'
uniforms, regularly made.
When the Sultan takes a wife no cere
mony is considered necessary more
than to present his bride. The new
Sultan inherits all the widows and
slaves of his predecessor, and every
rear of his reign, at the feast of tne
Itamazan, he receives a new one from
his mother and takes any other gui or
woman to his harem who happens to
strike his faucy. Slaves who become
mothers are instantly promoted to the
rank of Sultana. Six months before
the feast of Hatnazan the Valide Sultana
orders that all the young candidates be
brought lo her, and she chooses fifteen
and sometimes more of the lot These
are immediately put under diet and
training, and at the beginning of the
great feast she again chooses, and thif
time the choice is fiuaL At the evening
of the appointed day the Sultan, upon
retiring, finds his new bride standing
nude, with folded hands and lowered
eves at the foot of his bed. After, he
has retired she must lilt the bed-clothe
at the foot nnd crawl into bed in thai
way as a sign of pubjection.
Girls arrive at legal majority at 9
rears of age and are frequently married
at 10. Children of 12 and 13are often
seen with babies of their own. They
are old nt 25. The old Turkish women
have a hard lot of it Beyond a respect
lor nee which they contrive to inspire
by tooth and nail among other wivet
younger than they, their lives are not
happy. Slid they are provided for. am'
as long as a man lives he feeds hit
family, one and all alike. Brooklyn
Polite Diction In Rochester.
Despite tho most careful training on
the part of parents nnd teachers the
bovs nnd girls of the present day. and
esjecially tho former, persist in using
forcible expressions. lesterday a lady
and her young son were seated in a
street car near the Four Corners. The
lad was the pink of propriety, and to
all npearance. he would as soon have
thought of eating pie with a knife as
using lang. He wore a fashionable
niit nnd held a tennis racket in his
neatly gloved hand. His fond mother
was speaking in an undertone to a
friend of the remarkable docility and
lHiliteness of her son and especially of
his training so far as the street vernacu
lar was concerned. Said she: "Chawles
would not deviate from the cowwect
fawm of expression uiulah any circuiu
atawnces." Just then a newsboy poked
his head through the car door and yell
ed: "Paer only 2 ceuts." The juve
nile dude did not raise his eyes, but he
gave the intruder a vicious poke with
the racket all the same. The gamin
burst out with "Cheese that, or I'll give
you a smack in the puss." "Oh, rats,"
aid the pink of propriety, "you ain't
big enough. Go soak your head and get
the bugs out" The expression on the
face of the horrified mother was a study.
As soon us she could catch her breath
she gently observed: "Just wait till I
get vou home, youug man, and I'll at
tend to your case." liochester Post-Express.
How Germany Treats Spies.
The Faris Matin gives its readers the
following information respecting the
treatment to which persons arrested as
spies are subjected in Germany: "Some
five or six years ago a Belgian subject
was arrested in Germany on suspicion
of being a spy in the pay of the French
government. No trustworthy evidence
against him was forthcoming, and the
charge was sustaiued merely by tho tes
timony of an entirely irresponsible in
dividual. Nevertheless, the accused
was condemned to ten years' imprison
ment after having already suffered
eight months' confinement on suspi
cion. He has since becu to all intents
aud purposes as one dead to his family.
It has only been with the greatest
difficulty that he has succeeded in ob
taining permission from the authorities
to write a few lines every quarter. In
this epistle, moreover, ho is compelled,
under threats, to sing the praises of the
regime of which he is the innocent
victim. He has to herd with thieves
and assassins, and. although suffering
from a most painful physical illness, is
on no account permitted to see a physi
cian. The Belgian government has, it
is said, repeatedly made efforts to ob
tain, if not the release, at all events the
better treatment of this unhappy man;
bat in vain."
Male Attractive by Their Adorn
ment and Their Voice.
Mr. Darwin has said: "Birds appear
to be the most testhetic of all animals,
excepting of course, man, and they
have nearly the same taste for the beauti
ful as we have. This is shown by our
enjoyment of the singing of birds, and
by our women, both civilized and sav
age, decking their heads with borrowed
plumes and using gems which are hard
ly more brilliantly colored than the
naked skin and wattles of certain
birds." With civilized men, at least,
the rule of personal adornment is the re
verse of that followed by nature in the
decoration of birds. Among civilized
people it is the female who is elaborate
ly ornamented, but with birds the male
wears the most gorgeous plumage, the
most elegant ear tufts, the most brilliant
wattles, the most splendid topknots,
and even the iris of the eye is some
times more highly colored in the male
than in the female. The object of this
is, without doubt, to attraet the female.
In other cases the male, deprived of
beautiful adornment, is otherwise pro
vided. He is. as a rule, the sweetest
songster, and when he has neither vocal
powers nor attractive piuinage, he is
provided with formidable weapons with
which to win his bride (or brides) from
his antagonist Thus the males of gal
linaceous birds are provided with spurs,
and some even have single and doable
sets of spurs upon their wings, as is the
case with the palamadea.
Male birds of paradise are, without
question, the most highly favored by
way of adornment of alL The elongat
ed and golden orange plumes that
spring from beneath the wings of the
parauisea a pod a (and which is not the
most beautiful of the species), when
vertically erected and made to vibrate,
are described as forming a sort of halo,
in the center of which the head "looks
like a litde emerald sun, with its rays
formed by the two plumes." In an
other most beautiful species the head is
bald, and of a rich cobalt bine, crossed
bv several lines of black. velvety feathers.
Many birds of elegant plumage, such as
egrets and herons, retain their nuptial
plumes only during the summer; birds
of paradise, the peacock, and Angus
pheasant do not can their plumes dur
inff the winter. Whether it is the re
sult of their surpassing beauty, or to
other causes, can not be said, but birds
of paradise are great polygamista, the
male having generally fifteen wives
There was formerly a superstition that
these birds lived solely in the air. but
that has long since been exploded, in
common with the mediaeval notion that
a certain species of the goose grew upon
trees. New Orleans t'icayune.
Would Hat her Hun the Risk.
There is a law which compels hotel
proprietors to have some sort of tire
eseape in every upper-storv room in
their bouse. In the Girard House the
style of escape used consists of a huge
rope with hooks to clasp the window
ledge and a sliding arrangement by
which the guest may lower himself at
whatever speed be wilL One of these is
placed in every apartment directly un
der one of the windows, and. aa they
are for use rather than ornament their
apearance does not enhance the beauty
of the interior. The other day a lady
who wished a room was shown to one
of the most elegantly furnished in the
hotel. As soon as her eye rested on the
fire escape she turned to the clerk: "I
will not have that thing there." she
said. "It is hideous." "But it is re
quired by law." he replied. '-Can't vou
put it in the trunk room at the end of
the ball?" she asked. "No. madam, it
must be where you can utilize it at a
moment's notice." "Well, then," con
cluded the lady. "I won't take the room.
I'll go where they don't have lire escares
where i he law is evaded rather than
have that u;rlv tiling there to remind
me all the time that I may have to
swing nivseif out of the window to save
inv life." And she departed in disgust
I'h t'ldetjih a llutiettii.
Women Customers.
I hate women customers," replied a
saleswoman iu a dry-gowis store. She
had been asked plumply whether she
preferred waiting on men, and this was
her plump answer.
"Why do you prefer men'"
Because they know what they want.
and do not care to keep you standing
an hour while they fumble over and
rumple up the goods on the counter.
Why, only to-day I was showing a lady
black stockings. Ur course, they were
all the same size and quality, yet she
dragged every pair out of that box and
then wanted lo see more. 1 handed
down two more boxes just like this one,
aud then asked if we had any more. 1
told her no, aud then situ said 1 might
wrap up one pair for her. The lady
uexi to me made nine different sales to
gentlemen while 1 was fooling with the
one woman. 1 am going lo try to get
a place in a hardware-store, or some
place where womeu do not have to deal
with women." t'Utsburg Dispatch.
A curious lawsuit is in progress in a
small town in Saxony. A man caught
a rat. tied a small bell round its neck,
and let it go again, as he bad heard
that such a rat would scare every other
rat out of the house. The plan succeed
ed, and his house in a few days was
clear of the plague. A few nights later,
however, his neighbor's family were
nearly frightened out of their wits by
hearing the mysterious sound of a bell in
various parts of the house. They came
to the conclusion that the house was
haun:ed, until the servant girl accident
ally heard of their neighbor's doings,
who now is to be fined, if he loses the
suit, for creating a nuisance.
On the eastern coast of the Caspian
Sea a curious change is in progress.
The Kara Bobhaz is an estuary nearly
separated from the main body of the
sea by a bank through which there is
an inlet. The evaporation from this
gulf is so great that a current continual
ly sets iu from lite Caspian, and as
there is no return current, the gulf be
comes more and more saliferous, and a
deposit of salt is in course of formation.
In time this gulf will be cut off from
the Caspiau, aud will then be dried up
and buome an extensive salt bed.
a Interview with New Vork's Favorite
Al"ateur Actress A Jiew American
"Tes," said Mrs. James Brown Potter,
a few days ago, "I am going to France
for the winter." She had just returned
from a six-mile walk around Tuxedo
Lake, and as she sat in the pretty parlor
of her cottage her cheeks flushed with
exercise, ber eyes bright with health,
her stately figure clad in a yachting suit
which had pleased the taste ot the Prince
of Wales at Cowes last Summer, she
seemed more than worthy of all the
praise which has been accorded her re
markable beauty. "It is not," she con
tinued, '"from any disloyalty to my" na
tive land that I hurry back to Europe.
An American is always an American.
But my uncle, you know, is at present
our Minister to France, and I shall take
advantage of that fact to spend the win
ter in Paris. 1 want to study the French
language and literature and French art
at the very fountain heads. You see I
have been a good deal of a traveler and
wanderins about is a habit which grows
on one. 1 have been, to the Holy Land.
Mr. Potter and I spent a Fourth of July
two years aero just across the Arctic Cir
cle in Norway. We were looking for
the midnight sun and found starvation.
We were snowed up for a long time and
had nothing to eat for thirty-six hours.
I shall leave New York for France on
the Gascoigne on the 6th of November.
Meanwhile I have a great many duties
engaging my attention. You know I am
publishing a book of recitations for the
use of amateurs. It will contain about
seventy-five pieces which are, in my
opinion, especially fitted to interest an
audience. An sudience doesn't care to
listen to lonir descriptions. .No matter
how well a jwiet may paint the beauties
of nature, hi verse will never be popu
lar for recitations unless he has the dra
matic instinct. An audience grows rest
less if you do not talk to them of people,
of human life, of something besides land
scapes and metaphysics. An audience
demands from a reciter a story of every
day existence, something which every
man and woman within hearing knows
to be true in conception if not in fact."
"And "Ostler Jo," you have him on
the list?" was asked.
"Oh, yes: and a few poems which have
never yet challenged public criticism.
Mrs. Ella Wheeler Wilcox, who, by the
way, is a charming lady, came out here
to see me and said, before she left, that
she would write me a pem adapted to
recitation. She has sent it to me and I
am delighted with it. It is destined to
be very popular. It is called 'Two Sin
ners," and illustrates the tendency of so
ciety to forgive a man who goes wrong
while it remains unrelenting towards a
woman who errs. The poem is both
musical and dramatic and will be one of
the striking features of my book. The
Lippincotts. of Philadelphia, will bring
out the little volume about the 1st of
December. I have had to write to the
American authors whose pcems I use for
permission to publish their verses. I am
in receipt of some delightful letters.
Whittier, Saxe and John Hay are among
those who have written me. lhe latter
sent me a most charming note. His 'Jim
Bludsoe 1 am very fond of, as 1 am a
Southerner, you know. The Prince of
Wales never tired of this piece and often
asked me to recite it. Jlr. llay, apaong
other things, wrote that when he beard
Charlotte Cushman recite 'Jim Bludsoe'
he wondered who wrote it. Mr. Gilder's
"After Sorrow's Night' was also very
popular in tngland. It was surprising
to me to find the English so enthusiastic
about mv simple method of delivery
They seem to admire a quiet and sub
dued mauner in an elocutionist much
more than do my own countrymen. A
peculiar thing happened to me not long
ago. A Mrs. Runcie, from somewhere
out West, called on me one day and said
that she had traveled 2,000 miles to ask
ne to use her poems in mv recitations
have chosen for my book a poem by
her called 'To My Love, which I think
will please the public. I think my col
lection ousrht to be very useful to ama
teur elocutionists, as it is the result of
years of siftintr from hundreds of recita
tive poems. The Prince of Wales has
written to me asking for the first copy.
which shall be sent him. I am going to
dedicate the little volume to Browning.
I am very fond of Browning. In reply
to my letter asking him if I might dedi
cate my book to him I received to-day a
most charming note. He savs: "Y'onr
pleasant piece of kindness finds me away
from home, but I make haste to answer
that I shall be honored and (what is bet
ter) gratified by the proof you propose
to give me that I have not wholly drop
ped from out that admirable memory of
yours.' I was much- amused at the inter
est Mr. Browning took in Chicago. He
piled me with questions at a dinner one
evening about Chicago, aud seemed to
feel that his poetry was more fully ap
preciated in that city than anywhere else
in America. Mr. Browning is a charm
ing man. Of all my mementos of En
gland 1 value his letters and the pins
given me by the Irmce of ales the
"What do vou think of Wilson Bar
rett. Mrs. Potter?"
"Oh. 1 admire him very much. He
was out here to see ns Sunday night and
had to wait three hours at the station as
the train was late. I thiuk he is a very
remarkable actor. He has a peculiar
magnetism which always wins an audi
ence, l es, f am very fond of Irving also.
I was speaking to him one niirbt of the
great exhaustion caused by an evening
devoted to recitations. Y"es,' he said.
the strain on an elocutionist is much
greater than on an actor. An elocution-
st has to paint his own scenery, portray
various characters and bear the whole
load of the eveninsr'sentertainment. An
actor has none of these disadvantages
and does not feel at the end of a long
piece the exhaustion which comes of
necessity to the elocutionist.' His words.
1 remember, recalled to my mind some
remarks of Jliss Mary Anderson regard-
ug amateur theatricals, bhe said: Have
nothing to do with them. They are a
tremendous strain cm the nerves and do
not pay one who has a high ideal of dra
matic art.' "
'But what am I to dot" continued
Mrs. Potter. "It is almost impossible to
say no, when you are asked to play or
recite for some deserving charity. In-
eane asylums, hospitals, &a are con
tinually asking for my services. I have
sometimes recited at three or four differ
ent institutions in one evening. The
physical strain is very great."
l ou do uot look as thonsh yon had
received any permanent injury from your
career as an elocutionist."
"No; 1 don't think I have. I possess
a very elastic temperament. By the way.
Munziff. a very brilliant artist, who was
originally from Boston, but who has
spent most of his time in Europe, has
reached New York with a partially fin-
shed portrait of me, which is, from an
artistic standiioint, a very remarkable
production. It is in the Van Dvke man
ner, and I am in Henri Quatre costume.
The artist has taken a studio in Wash
ington square. I am very willine to eo
down to posterity as this man has paint
ed me."
Have you any special plans for yonr
season in Pans?
'No. none at all. I shall devote the
winter to study and sieht-seewe. My
tittle daughter goes with me. She has
forgotten all the French she used to
know and I want her to recall it."
"There is a general impression. Mrs.
Potter, that you are going on the stage.
Lo yon care to say anything about ltr
"No. I am in receint continually of
large offers from managers, but. as f said
before. I have no plans for the future be
yond a few months' study in Paris."
W ill you not rive me some ol your
impressions of English society f
"1 do not care to. ion seel was re
ceived there with somnch cordiality that
I do not feel at liberty to make public
the impressions I derived. I can frankly
say, however, that English society has
many delightful features. The Princess
of Wales is the most gracious woman I
ever met. She is both beautiful in per
son and sweet in disposition. London is
so different from New Tork. In Lon
don I felt all the time as though I were
at a g-reat pleasure resort. There was
none" of that bustle and excitement which
pervades social life in New York. Every
body seemt-dto have time to amuse them
selves. I here is something fascinating
in the restfuJness of London society life.
The same dolee far nient. which adds a
charm to Newport and Lenox influences
on a large scale the social atmosphere of
London." A1 T. World.
Tfaetr Love of Cleanliness nd Their Mode
of Burial.
In spite of the multifarious duties and
tasks that are imposed on these tiny
burglars, they still find time to clean
and adorn their worthy little persons.
says a writer in the Cosmopolitan. No
spot, no atom of dost or anything else
uncleanly will they tolerate on their
bodies. They get rfd of the dirt with
the brushy tufts on their feet or with
their tongue. They act, for all the
world, like domestic cats when they
clean and lick themselves; and they as
sist one another at the toilet precisely
like monkey a Their sense of cleanli
ness goes so far that the naturalist often
finds, to his unpleasant surprise, the
colored marks that he had applied with
so much care on his "trial ants" re
moved by their dirt-hating friends.
They keep their dwelling just as cleanly.
But the conveying away of their de
ceased brethren, whose dead bodies they
appear to regard with the greatest anti
pathy, gives them more trouble than
anything else. When some members
of an ant community, which Mr. Cook
kept imprisoned, died and could not be
removed, those remaining seemed af
fected with the greatest horror. For
days the insects ran about seeking a
way out, and ceased only when com
pletely exhausted. The ants belonging
to the componotus species seized the
dead and threw them into a water-pail,
which they converted into a sepnlcher.
Ordinarily, though, the ants are said to
treat their dead with more reverence.
They even possess their own graveyards,
which lie in the vicinity of their nests.
They convey their deceased companions
thither, where they lay them down in
orderly little heaps or in rows.
It is only the corpses of their fellows,
however, that they treat in this man
ner. Dead strangers they throw oat
like something unclean, or tear the
body in pieces. Even between the
master and slaves of the same com
munity Miss Treat says she has observ
ed a dissimiliar mode of burial. While
the masters find their last repose in a
special graveyard, side by side, the
slaves lie like heaped-np refuse near
the nest, despised equally in death as in
The ant cemeteries are often thickly
populated, for their life is short. The
male lives only through one summer; the
females live somewhat longer, and the
workers die of old age in the 8th or 10th
The American Exposition Building in
London is to be 210 feet wide and 1,000
feet long. There are are to be several
smaller structures, including an art
gallery capable of holding 3,000 pic
tures. The main building will cover
five acres, and is to be constructed of
steel rads and corrugated iron. The
use of steel rails in structures of this
kind is a new idea, but has received
the approval of eminent engineers. It
enables the builders to put np or take
down a building so constructed in a
very Bhort time.
King Menilek of Shoa, a vassal ot
King John of Abyssinia, makes all the
priests at his capital wear the uni
form of Italian grenadiers, and his
favorite amusement is playing with
paper balloons and blowing penny