MY GARDEN—MY HEART.
TUE SPARROW IN NEW YORK.
[Katharine Lee Batea iu Bostou Transcript]
I Lave a garden full of blooms:
Oh, will you choose i
I know them by their own iierfumea,
Their varied Imus;
And when between their ranks I walk
I kiss the lily on her stalk,
I touch tbe rose and mignonette
And smile to see the pansy wet
With purple dews.
HE KIGCRES AS A RERD BIRD IN BE8-
TAl'BANTS.
I have a heart so full of friends
1 cannot choose.
Not one beneath the smiter bends.
But mine the bruise.
Each step, in drawing nigh my door,
Woke music never heard before.
Now, which magician most prevails!
But blindfoldLove throws down the scales;
He dares not lose.
LIZARD AND BURGLAR.
About as Novel u <’aae of House-
Breaking aa There la on Record.
[New York Sun.]
I
“Speaking about lizards,” said •
naturalist, "I will tell you a story that
will probably y astonish you. The inci
dent I am about
bout to re
relato occurred in
India, and I won’t undertake to describe
the place or the people. The natives
that I met there, however, were nearly
all possesseel with the belief that their
chief mission in the world was to take
possession of whatever they could lay
their hands on. I was advised to keep
things under lock and key, and so I did,
but after a stay of a month I became
rather careless, and, having the second
story of a stone house, felt pretty secure.
One night after I had put out my
light and sat down to smoke, as was
my custom, I heard a curious scratch
ing noise under the window, and look
ing out perceivod several figures below
crouching in the darkness. I thought
nothing of it, though, as there was no
wa/ for thieves to get in, and returned
to my chair. But in a mome.it J heard
the same scratching noise, as if some
one wore rasping the stone with a sharp
instrument. For about ten minutes
this oontinued. Every once in a while
the noise ceased, and there was a thud
as if some one had fallen. In the mean
time, the moon, which had been under
a cloud, came out, and hearing tbe
noise nearer the window than ever, I
went ovei, and looked down through the
lattice again. I saw three men. One
was stooping down, and another upon
his back was reaching up the wall.
Boon, in some mysterious manner, the
man moved directly upward. On ho
came with the carious scraping sound.
Then there was a slip, and the man
fell and was caught by his companions.
I had a heavy club in the room and,
taking it, I moved my seat over by the
window and lay low, wondering what
sort of a machine they had that en
abled them to go up a straight wall.
In about twenty minutes, after several
more slips and much scraping, I saw a
black object moving up over the sill,
but it was not the head of a man. A
second later, however, a human hand
grasped the window, and I brought the
club down upon it and the black object
with all the power I could muster.
With a yell the would-be thief went
tumbling down the twenty feet or more
of wall, and I soon heard footstep
going down the road on ii dead run. I
immediately ran down, calling my man
as I went, expecting to find a rope or
cord of some kind, but there was noth
ing of the sort, and I gavo it up as a
mystery. Stepping back to go in I
stumbled over something, and looking
down, found it was a large lizard, stone
dead. H is skull was broken, What
do yon suppose my man told
me, and
which I found out
later was true? Nothing loss than that
I had killed the lizard by my blow at
the thief, and that the animal had
hauhsl him up the side of the house.
Those lizards aro very powerful, and
have long. sh*.p claws. When grasped
by the tail and placed against the wall,
up they will go with a force quite suf
ficient to pull up a small man after
them. It was tho scratching of the
animal's claws that I had heard. I
guess this is aliout aa novel a method of
house-breaking M there is on roeord. I
understand, however, that it was not
uncommon there.
A Private Prayer I nlou.
“[Uncle Biirs'' New York letter ]
I have just come across the Prayer
union, and it will serve as an instance
of piety that is almost out of sight,
though extending throughout the en
tire country. The society has a central
office in tho Bible Union building. The
memliers number over 10,000. They
are all pledged to hold a service of
praise and praver privately at noou
every day, unless prevented by some
unusual circumstance. Each retiree
for the purpose literally into a closet,
or some other place of privacy, and
there goon through with an appointed
exercise.
From
the
headqtiar-
tors
oaoh
month
a
pro-
Jrammo is sent ont.
During this
anuary a New Year hymn by Charles
Wesley is sung by the solitary wor
shiper; the text, “If ye abide in me,
and my words abide in you, ye shall ask
what ye will and it shall bo done unto
you,” is repeated and meditated upon;
a resolution is made to do something for
an orphan child, and a prayer for some
definite object is made. Mrs. l’almer,
a wealthy and pious widow, is tho chief
promoter of this odd movement for
daily household services. She thinks
that not loss than 8,000 persons keep
the pledge. Their devotions are wholly
out of view. One drunkard could in
five minutes attract more mortal atten
tion by his antics than all of them by
their religious services.
New York Herald.
In the city the best posted individual
is W. W. Conkling, the director of the
animals in Central park. He said: “I
recall the first importation of tbe spar
rows to this city, and how much the
people expected of them, and how they
were nursed and a.tended to. They
may have eaten some of the worms, at
any rate the worms disappeared after
the sparrows came, but whether it was
due to the sparrow 1 would not like to
say. They have been fed and attended
to so much that now they are lazy and
saucy. I know that several years ago
the worms took possession of the vines
about the arsenal in Central park.
There were apnrrows by the thousands
there,building right in the worm infested
vines, but the birds did nothing. Then
a flock of robins came along and gave
their undivided attention for a few
days to those vines and cleaned out all
the worms. I don’t see that the spar
rows molest the other birds. When
they came here along in ’62 and ’63, we
had about 151) species of birds, either
visitors or resident, iu the park, and we
have about that number now. The
sparrows are of no use to ns as insect
destroyers. They do not trouble the
young buds, as they have been charged
with doing. I would suggest taking
down all ¡sixes und compel the birds to
forage for a living instead of having
crumb banquets provided for them.
“They are eaten now very exten
sively, for a large majority of the so-
culled reed birds served ut restaurants
are only common sparrows. It is im
possible to tell the difference after the
birds are plucked and cooked, and they
are just about ns good, too. They make
an excellent potpie, especial y in win
ter, when they are fat and in prime eat
ing order. It is not easy to trap them
however, and after being fired at a few
times they take the hint and leave thut
immediate locality for a time. The kill
ing and selling of sparrows has come to
be quite an industry about the city.”
In Central park the sparrow is every
where, particularly near the points
where the other animals are fed. His
nests are crowded into every nook about
the several buildings. The dovecote,
the long line of stalls for the herbivor
ous animals, the carnivorium, the camel
stable were all supporting a colony of
Hjiarrows. The eagle cage also had a
companv of sparrows, with nests
crammed away among the rafters of
little Eug-
the roof. The impertinent
.
......................
.
lish squatter took the greatest liberties
with the few specimens of the Ameri
can bird of freedom. The engles roosted
about on the bare and crooked perches
winking and bliukiug while the spar
rows flitted about, often shaking their
wings within a few inches of the bird's
great hookisl bill. Once the reporter
saw one of the sparrows land fairly on
top of the bald head of one of these dig
nified beasts, though only fqr an in
stant. The old screamer ducked his
head, ruft!e«l his feathers, muttered a
guttural and settled back, feeling him
self helpless to fight the rough-and-
ready little tumbler.
RUNNING’OUT THE RATS.
Chamls'rs' Journal.
Rats are wonderfullly clean animals,
and they dislike tar more, perhaps than,
than anything else, for if it once gets on
their jackets, they find it most difficult
to remore it. Now, I had heard it men
tioned thut pouring i ar down at the en
trance of their holes soda good remedy;
also placing broken pieces of glas« by
their holes was another remedy. But
these remedies are uot effective. Tho
rats may leave their old holes and make
fresh ones in other parts of the house;
they don't however, leave the premises
for good. I thought I would try another
experiment—tine I had not heard of
before. One evening I set a large wire
cage rat-trap, attaching inside a most se
ductive piece of strongly smelling cheese,
ami next morning I found, to my sat
isfaction .that I ha<l succeeded in trapping
a very large rat, onti of the largest Iliad
ever seen, which, after I had besmeared
him with tar. 1 let loose into his favorite
run. The next morning I tried again,
and sucei-eded in catching another
«spially big fellow, and serve«! him in tho
same manner. I could not follow theso
two tar-besmeared rats into their num
erous runs, to see what would happen;
but it is reasonable to assume that ¡hey
either suinmomsl together all the mem
bers of their community, and by their
crest-fallen appearance gave their com
rades silent indications of the mis
fortunes which had so suddenly befallen
them; or they that frightened their breth
ren away, for they one and all forsook tho
place and fled. The experiment was
eminently successful. From that day
in 1875 till now, 1883, my house, ancient
though it is, has been entirely free
from rats; and I believe that there is no
remedy equal to this one, if you can
cutch vour rat alive. They never came
back to the house alive.
THE SEI E< lloN OF PICTURES.
New Y’ork News.
I saw a rich man of this city buying a
picture the other day. He was buying
it to fit a space on his wall, ami had tho
measurement on a paper, lie found one
to tit, but he didn't like it. It was an
excellent landscape bv some French
painter I never heard of, {tainted with
breadth and vigor, ami the dealer gavo
it a very favorable send off. But the
picture-hunter was not to be talked
over
"It's to«« rough. There's too much
paint on it.” he said.
The Herald's Theory.
I I left him looking at some colorod
(Inter Ocean.J
photographs.
The New York Herald, in attempting
This reminds me of a man I know
to account for Lotte's failure iu Lon who, liefore he examines a picture, rubs
don, doubts the hissing arose liocauso his hand over it. This is to find if it is
of her singing a hymn, but thinks the smoothly painted.! If it isn't he calls it
trouHeia to bo explained in the open a daub. This gciitleinan has a house
ing lino of the song, which it quotes as full of pictures Is Right at bargains, and
“There's a land that is fairer than this." as smooth as if they had been painted
In such a aimpie manner does Tho Her an«l greased They are all elegantly
ald confess its ignorance of sacred mu frame«]. Last, year he wanted to get
sic or religious hymns. The opening rid of some of the older ones, to make
line of "Tho Sweet By-and-By" is room for others, so he sent them to h
“There's a land that is fairer than day,” auction. An artist frientl of mine
which upsets Ths Herald's theory.
Imught the lot anil gave th«« pictures
to tlie porter of the auction room tu
Stanley has discovered a river in carry the frames home for him.
Central Africa called Kusmelonga. It
An immense trade is now do I p ]
can not be vory far from Lake Nyum
celluloid as a material fork.nfe ivi d <
Nyum.
Maid to Improve
Hearing.
[New Haven Register.]
Telephones
the
It appears that many people who
have telephones in their houses or plaoes
of business, and use them frequently,
find their hearing bettered. The best
testimony, however, comes from the
central office. At each switch-board sits
an operator, generally a girl, who from
morning till night haggles with un
reasonable subscribers and patiently
goes through the everlasting formula
till her head fairlv rings with “hello”
and “all right” and “go ahead." She
gets small pay for her trying work,
surely not a sufficient compensation for
loss of hearing.
But her testimony is that her hear
ing is constantly improving. When she
begun this work she blundered sadly;
now the ear is drilled to catch the
faintest sound, and her sense of hear
ing is remarkably acute, It must be
noticed that
the regularity of
this schooling of " tho ear is
largely responsible for the good
result. If an operator were to take a
switch-board only one day in the week
and do all the work required on that
day, the practice would doubtless be
detrimental, because it would be ex
haustive to both the muscular ami nerv
ous mAke-up of the ear. The system
atic use of the telephone seems to de
velops the hearing above its Suirnal
acuteness, but does not made it techni
cally abnormal.
One benefit from using the telephone
is evident to both subscriliers and cen
tral-office operators, that of cultivating
the attention, a process which is reck
oned as the third or intellectual method
of developing the sense of hearing. A
good share of the difficulty which peo
ple find in workbig the telephone,comes
not from any defect in the machine,
nor from any deficient hearing, but
from inability to fix the attention on
what is heard. This trouble readily
disappears by practice in listening
closely to what is said over the wire.
Indeed, the attention may be trained to
an abnormal development, as in the
case of tlie head operator at the cen
tral office, who has been in the tele
phoning business for four years; she
has so accustomed herself to fix her at
tention on the machine before her and
to abstract her attention from her sur
roundings, that when she is in her home
she often fails to hear when she is ad
dressed by members of the family.
S*w York Dramatic Criticism.
Marie Prescott said to a Detroit Times
man: “I am convinced that had J
brought out ‘Vera’ iu New York, with
out Oscar Wilde being there, it would
have been a pronounced success, and
applauded throughout the entire coun
try. But I starred Mr. Wilde as much
as I starred myself, and conse [uently
the press attacked him and left me
alone. Dramatic circles in New York are
rather apt to follow a leader, and in this
case when The Herald and some of the
other leading papers printed adverse crit
icisms, the others fell into line. On the
night that ‘Vera’ was produced at the
Union Square, Joe Howard, of The
Herald, was in the box office. Mr.
Howard is, I am told—I do not know
him myself personally—a man of justice
and good nature. On that night he did
only what a diplomat could do,and it w as
done evidently with the object that 1
should hear of it. He told Mr. Shook
and Mr. Collier, the managers of the
Union Square theatre; Mr. Lee Lynch,
the treasurer, and Mr. C'auzauran, the
stage manager, that he had received a
cablegram from James Gordon Bennett
directing him to slate ‘Vera,’ no matter
what its merits were. This was before
the curtain had risen on the first act.”
“What do you suppose was Bennett's
reason for that?”
“Somegilt-edged, high-toned sarcasm
which passed between liim and Mr.
Wilde in Europe, I believe. At any
rate this conversation was repeated to
me by those gentlemen whose names I
have mentioned, and whose veracity I
would not question.”
The New York C'remationlsts.
[“Caspar” In Detroit Free Press.]
There is a revival of talk about the
incineration people building a crema
tory in New York. The latest rumor
is that they have secured a suitable
piece of ground up town and are now
arranging for the edifice itself. The
chief object in the way of their going
ahead with a rush is the same one that
stands in the way of a great many other
worthy enterprises, viz., a lack of funds.
My impression is that tho New York
Cremation society, which was organized
over a year ago, and which includes
Prof. Felix Adler ard a chaplain of the
United States navy among its members,
is not exactly iu a flourishing condi
tion. None of its stock has yet been
“placed” in Wall street at all events.
As yet there is no particular indication
of the prevalence of a belief that it fills
a long-felt want. I take the liberty of
doubting the report that ground for a
crematory has been secured on
Manhattan island. Still, such a thing
may be done, and a building actually put
up, iu course of time. The cremation
idea has certait 'v made headway in the
few years since it was started. But it
may lie said that almost the only peo
ple who take to it are those who don't
¡rouble themselves much about church
going. As a body the religious element
is perfectly satisfied with the old-
fashioned way of dis|>osiug of the dead.
Nearly all the cremationists are “liberal
thinkers," each of whom is a church
unto himself. And as this class seems
to bo growing pretty fast, the time may
lie not far off when a crematory in New
Y'ork will be an actually established
fact.
A NBW IFAl' OF BREAKING A
WILL.
Youth's Companion.
A well-known American author—we
wish we could mention bin name—died
lately, leaving a large estate to his
children. They assembled to hear his
will read, all of them being married and
heads of families. An adopted daugh
ter, who bad offended their father, it
was found, was passed over in the will
with but a trifling legacy. One of the
daughters interrupted the reading of
the will.
"Father, I am sure, is sorry for that
by this time. A----- should have a
child’s portion. We must make that
right.”
The other children assented, eagerly.
A widowed daughter with a large
family received an equal share with the
other children. One of the sons spoke
now. “C----- ought to have more than
we men who are in business and are
able to earn our living. I will add so
much”—stating the sum—“to her por
tion.” The two remaining brothers
each agreed to give the same amount.
When the will had been read, one of
the elder children said, “There are
some of father’s old friends to whom he
would have given legacies if he had not
been ill and forgetful when this paper
was written. Shall we not make that
right ?”
It was done, cordially and promptly.
Now this was only the just action of
just and honorable people; but how
rare such conduct is in persons to
whom legacies are given.
THE BARN STORMERS.
Cor. Detroit Free Press.
You want to know what that crowd
meant we saw at Union Square—all
those men, mostly young, filling the
sidewalk for a whole block and just
standing there doing nothing? Why,
bless you, they are the barn st-ormers.
What’s a barn stormer, eh? Well, a
barn stormer is a second or third-class
actor, who goes on the road with a
traveling company. The companies
play in all sorts of places, sometimes, it
is said, even in barns, though that is
probably putting it too strong. Any
way, the actors who go on the road
every season, as most of those we saw
down there do, are called barn stormers
for that reason.
Talent among them ? Yes, quite a good
deal of talent. Why, some of the best
actors we have were barn stormers at
one time or another. All the real good
characters come up from the ranks, you
know, and barn storming's nearly al
ways part of the apprenticeship. There
may be half a dozen embryo stars
among these young fellows at Union
Square. Why do they lounge at that
particular place? Because its the Ri
alto, the regular report of the brother
hood, the place where managers and
agents come to make up “snap” com
panies, and, possibly, disband them af
ter a week. It is only in the summer
that the barn stormers lounge on the
Rialto. Nearly all are then out of
work, and many entirely out of cash.
When fall opens they start for the high
ways and byways, as members of travel
ing companies, and are not seen at
Union Square again until the next sum
mer. unless, as often happens, the com
panies break up on the road. The
stormers then get back as soon as they
can and any way they can, and wait
around for another snap.
OLD EDITOR'S EMPHATIC
CONDEMN A TION.
A correspondent of The Baltimore
American encountered on a Hudson
river steamlioat a tough, iron-grav old
editor who delivered an angry tirade on
descriptive excursion letter-writing.
Among other things, the harsh old man
said: "There has been very little
chance or variety since the first book of
synonyms and poetical quotations was
published. Each and every year is a
renascent period in which all the de
scriptive literature is given a new lease
of life, rehashed and sent to the news
papers for publication. The same old
adjectives, the same old smiles, the
same old phrases come around as regu
lar as the seasons themselves, and the
same Hesperian skies that glowed when
Ben Franklin put up the first printing
press get this same annual puff now as
when Ben went into the newspaper
business. Young man, take mv advice:
destroy that letter; kill that nonsense;
in the silent waters of the Hudson
drown those adjectives. What the peo
ple want to read is news, gossip, facts,
incidents, anecdotes—-not gush. Let
descriptions along. Don’t make your
self ridiculous by failing to do what
Washin ;-ton Irving has already done so
well. The descriptive writer must go.
Public morality demands his extermina
tion. The editorial hereafter depends
upon it.”
A gootl many years ago, it is said, one
of the leading publishers in Paris was
offered a manuscript l>v a pale young
man with a large foreRead. The pub
lisher glanced over the page and saw
that the work was in verse. Without
attempting to read it, he hande«l it po
litely back to the young author, with a
few of the usual phrases—poetry was a
drug in the market; business was un
usually dull, etc. “I am sorry for your
sake," said the young man. haughtily;
“I was about to propose to you a con
tract, by which I wonld have seenred to
you the right to all the future produc
tions of my pen. It is a fortune I was
about to offer you, but you refuse, and
no more need be said.” Strnck by his
strange manner, the publisher re-
flecte«!. and then hastene«! after his
visitor to call him back. But it was too
late; the young man had disappeared.
"Never before or since,” the old gentle
man would say. when relating the
story, “have I met with a young author
who so fully believed in his own
powers, or with one who had so much
reason for snch belief; for my visitor
was Victor Hugo."
“THE BEAUTIF1ER OF THE N.
TION."
The abolition of slavery, which in
western Europe has been the greatest
achievement of modern civilization, did
not unfortunately tend to greater mild
ness in the customs of war. For in
ancient times the Bale of prisoners as
slaves operated to restrain that indis
criminate and objectless slaughter
which has been, even to cases within
this century, the marked feature of the
battle-field, and more especially where
cities or places have been taken by
storm. Avarice ceased to operate, as it
once did, in favor of humanity.
In one day tl.e population of Madge-
burg, taken by storm, was reduced from
25,000 to 2.700; and an English eye
witness of that event thus describes it:
“Of 25,000, some said 30,000, people
there was not a soul to be seen alive,
till the fiamesdrove those that were hid
in vaults and secret places to seek death
in the streets rather than perish in the
fire; of the miserable creatures some
were killed, too, by tbe furious soldiers,
but at last they saved the lives of such
as came out of their cellars and holes,
and_ so about 2,000 poor desperate
creatures were left. There was little
shooting; the execution was all cutting
of throatB and mere house murders.
* * * We could see the poor people
in crowds driven down the streets, ¡ly
ing from the fury of the soldiers, who
followed butchering them as fast as
they could, and refused mercy to any
body ; till, driving them down to the
river's edge, the desperate wretches
would throw themselves into the river,
where thousands of them perished,
especially women and children.
It is difficult to read this graphic
description of a stormed city without
the suspicion arising in the mind that
a sheer thirst for blood and love of
murder is a much more potent sustainer
of war than it is usual or agreeable to
believe. The narratives of most vic
tories and of taking cities support this
theory. At Brescia, for instance, taken
by the French from the Venetians in
1512, it is said that 20,000 of the latter
fell to only fifty of the former. When
Rome was sacked in 1527 by the Im
perialist forces we are told that "the
soldiery threw themselves upon the
unhappy multitude, and, without dis
tinction of age or sex, massacred ail
who came in their way. Strangers
were spared as little as Romans, lor
the murderers fired indiscriminately at
every one, from a mere thirst for blood.
One of the persons who appeared b
fore the senatorial committee on lab
this week said that the workingmi
was “the beautifier of the nation.” Tl
expression is a pretty one, and all tl
prettier because it is correct. Tl
millionaire may desire an elabora
house, and the architect may plan i
but both of them would be helple
were not the stonecutter, the mason, tl
carpenter, the painter and thedecorati
within call; the work would be impost
ble if even the humble hodcarrier coui
not be found. The man of moderat
meanB may want to beautify his ground
but he caunot do it himself unless I
neglects his business and applies bin
self to special study besides; he mui
call in the gardner. The poorest of t
want neatly fitting clothes of goc
material; we want sightly furnituri
shapely dishes, good carpets, and f<
these we are dependent upon the weave
the tailor, the furniture maker, tl
upholsterer and the potter. The pri
fessionnl artist and designer is not to b
underrated, but if every one waited fo
him what dreary wildernesses on
homes would be! The workingma
originates and completes most of whs
is pleasing to the eye; it is to hi
knowledge of the appropriateness <
means, his ability to coax raw material
into sightly forms, his sense <
proportion
in
details and
<
harmony ill the whole, that we ow
our elevation, in material thingi
above the level of the barbarian
who are dependent upon their owi
hands and wits for whatever they want
But would the workingman beautif
the nation if he were obliged to do i
at his own expense ? Does he alway
beautify even his own home and sur
rouudings? If not, why not ? Becau»
things of beauty are generally things o
luxury; not being absolutely necessar;
to human existence, they are seldon
called for except by those who havi
money to spare. The workingman doe
not obtain them for himself until
between persistent industry and equall;
persistent saving, he has more mone’
than is required by the bare necessitiei
of life. In other words, the working
man does not expend money on appear
anee until he is, though perhaps in a
small way, a capitalist.
A Hero of the Vent Hole.
[Boston Herald.]
AN
A PUBLISHER'S MISTAKE.
Detroit Free Press.
Oraphie Description of the Taking isf
a City by Htorm.
[Gentleman’s Magazine.]
I
Erastus Proctor, of Appleton, Me., is
still suffering from a wound received at
Gettysburg. He was standing by his
cannon thumbing the vent w-hen he was
struck in the abdomen, the ball passing
through the intestines and the ¡eft hip
bone. Whether the rebel sharpshooter
selected his man and his time with
“malice prepense” cannot be known, but
to remove “No. 3” while the gun is be
ing loaded brings danger to the
gun and the entire detachment of
men, for, if the vent be uncov
ered as the charge enters the hot gun, a
premature discharge results, which
may rend the gun, and will surely take
off the arms of “No. 1.” Proctor knew
the responsibility and did not flinch,
but kept his thumb firmly to the vent
until the shot was rammed home and
the “re«dy” given. He tlieu found
himself unable to walk or crawl, and
was placed in the shelter of a rock, which
protected him from lead, iron and hoofs.
Here he lay five days, being occasion
ally seen by a surgeon, who would say
he could do nothing for him except to
give him something to make him easy.
On the fifth day a wounded rebel ser
geant lying near told him he could
hear some one a little way off calling
the roll of the Maine wounded. “John
nie” answered for Proctor, who was
nearly speechless, and he was removed
to a hospital.
Stanley's Itoads In Africa.
[Chicago Times.]
Stanley's road building from Vivi to
Stanley Pool, between which points
river navigation is interrupted by the
Congo rapids, was a work of incred
ible difficulty, and the worst of it is that
much of the work has to be done over
again every year. During the rainy
season the corduroy roads over the
marshy lands are many feet under wa
ter, and the roads are half ruined. On
the plains the luxuriant vegetation an
nually chokes the road with grass and
weeds eight to ten feet high, and the
way has to be cut through again. In
the forests alone is the work of road
making of a comparatively stable char
acter. These terrible difficulties, com
bined with the deadly Congo climate,
have an unfavorable effect upon the
health of the Europeans engaged in the
work. In March, when the miasmatic
influences appear to culminate, few of
the Europeans escape the fever. So,
with indomitable pertinacity and great
sacrifices, the work goes on. the full
fruits of which may not be reached for
generations to come.
The Volume of Currency Had Come.
[Wall Street News.]
A New Yorker who was up in the hill
country a week or so ago shooting rab
bits had occasion to call at a country
store for some shot.
“Yes, I've got powder,” replied the
little old man behind the counter. “How
much did ye want?”
“I'll take a pound ”
“What, a hull pound?”
“Y'es. sir.”
The merchant came from behind his
oounter, slowly adjusted his steel-bowed
spec'acles. and fora long minute looked
the New Yorker over as one might read
A Mlsnoaarr.
a circus-bill. Finally he said :
[Exchange. ]
“A hull pound, and you are going to
Devil's lake, in northern Dakota,
pay cash down ?”
does not in any sense deserve its name,
“ Yes, sir.”
for it is a fine sheet of water in the
“Well—um—well! Mister, for the
midst of lieautiful scenery, and there
last fifteen years I’ve been contending
are no evil traditions concerning it. The
that the volume of floating currency
fact is that the Indians called it Spirit
was not large euough to do the business
lake, and the white man regarde«! a
A HAPPY TURN.
of the country, and I never expected to
spirit as necessarily a devil. Residents Fren-h Journal.
live to see this day. Cash down for a
talk of changing the name back to the
Cabasson never loses his head when hull pound of powder! Wait a minute
original Minuewakan.
makes a blunder.
till ( go to the back door and whoop.”
“You are 45 years old. are you not ?"
It is a mean servant-girl who. to he said the other day to a lady who hid
De Forest: A morally weak man re
gratify a petty malice, will put codfish owned up to 38
sembles a weak-jointed pair of tongs,
on the range to boil when she knows
And when the lady protested, he such as pusillanimously crossjtheir legs,
that her mistress is entertaining com quietly replied:
let their burdens drop and pinch the
pany in the parlor.
I
"Well, you will be one of these days.” hand that thrusts them.
New Y'ork Herald.
COPPER ROOFING~COMING INTO USE.
American Architect
The Scientific American mentions the
decline in the price of copper as likely
to lead to the increased use of the metal
in building. At presout the material
for a copper roof costs, at the outset,
only about twice as much as tin, and
as the latter must be repaired and
painted about once in three years, and
in fifteen or twenty years must be re
newed altogether, the copper, winch
never needs painting, and is practically
indestructible, is much the cheaper
material in the end. There are in
Boston many copper roofs, put on
about forty years ago, which show no
signs of deterioration, and the metal is
still much employed iu that sity for
cornices, gutters and rain-water pipes,
as well as for covering bay-windows,
and in many other ways, iu place of
galvanized iron, which is much infer
ior in beauty and durability, and nut
very much cheaper. The copper has
the additional advantage of needing no
pnint, so that the delicate lines of ar
tistic work are in no danger of being
filled up, and the metal increases
rather than diminishes in beauty by
the slow formation of a bluish-green
patina over it. For flashings, as well
as other portions of roof-work, copper
is much superior to zinc or tin, and
with the aid of a certain amount of
lead the most difficult problems in
roofing can be successfully and per
manently solved.
CONKLING AND SUMNER.
Says the Washington correspondent
of The Philadelphia Record: “We are
talking of the egotism of great men,and
an ex-senator said: ‘A lady of my ac
quaintance once wrote Roscoe Conkling
a note when he was in the senate with
me, asking permission to bring her lit
tle girl to see him. He replied in a
courteous note,naming the hour at which
he would receive her. At the hour
named the lady and the child stood l>e-
fore him. ‘Mary,’ said the mother to her
child, ‘this is the great Senator Conk
ling.’ ‘Y’es, little Mary,’ said Lord Ros
coe, with a Jovian smile meant to be en
couraging; ‘but remember,’ solemnly
lifting his forefinger, ‘that there is a
greater than Senator Conkling.’ We
laughed ami then a regular army colo
nel snid : ‘I remember that on the morn
ing of one of the darkest days of the
war I met Charles Sumner on the ave
nue. and, stopping him, said: ‘Senator,
is there any news this morning?’ ‘None,
I believe,’ he gravely responded, ‘ex
cept that I am a little better this morn
ing.’ I ha«l forgotten that he was un
well.’” _______________
A CONFEDERATE VIVANDIERE.
New York Star.
At Hollywood cemetery, near Rich
mond, Va., in the soldiers’ section B,
row 27. is a plain granite monument
inscrilied, “Catherine Hodges, Co. K,
5th La., 1863.” It is said that this
grave is never overlooked on memorial
day. She came to Virginia as the vi-
vandiere of her companv. It was her
intention to nurse the sick and care for
the wounded. Her life was devoted to
the Confederate cause. In some of tbe
holiday parades that marked the pres
ence of southern soldiers in the early
days of the war, with gaudy red cap
and zouave-like dress, she marched at
the head of the command to which she
was attached. Her mission was to
nurse others, but herself soon required
nursing. She fell sick and died, and
was buried amidst the sold er«—one
poor, lone woman among 12,0J0 men.
GIFTS OF THE GODS.
New York Star.
Chinese priests have a w y if im
posing on the credulity of toe pearl
fishermen. They secure live pearl
oysters and place in them Hat leaden
figures of Buddha. In time the images
are sunk into the m'-itSer-of-pearl
linings of the shell and iieantifully
coated with the lustrous substance.
Years pass, perhaps, before they are
discovered, but when opened they are
prized as special gifts of the god.