pattsmouih Journal
C VT. SHERMAN. Fubll.t.rr.
FLAITSAJOUTH. .: NEDRASKA.
THE WISHING WELL.
Around Its shining edge three sat them down.
Beyond the desert, 'neath the palm's green
ring.
I wish. " spake one. "the gems of Izza's crown.
For then would I be Izza and a king!"
Another: "I the royal robe he wears.
To bear men say: 'Behold, a king walks
here!1"
.And cried the third: "Now by his lor-g gray
hairs
i'd have his throne! Then should men cringe
and fear'"-
They .quaffed the blessed draught and went
their way
To where the city's gilded turrets shone;
"Then from the shadowed palms where rested
they.
Btepped one, with bowed gray head, and
passed alone.
3Iis arms upon his breast, his eyes down bent,
Against the fading light a shadow straight;
Across the yellow sand, musing, he went
Where in the sunset gleamed the city's gate.
Xio. the next morrow a command did bring.
To three who tarried in that city's wall,
Which bade them hasten straightway to the
king.
Ilia, the Great, and straightway went they
all
With questioning and wonder in each mind.
Majestic on his gleaming throne was he,
Xzza the Jmt, the kwgliest ot his kind!
His eagle jaze upon the strangers three
Bent, to the first he spake: "Something doth
tell
Ma that to-day my Jeweled crown should lie
TTpon thy brow, that it be proven well
How any man may be a king thereby. "
And to the second: "Still the same hath told
That thou shalt don this robe of royalty.
And" to the third "that thou this scepter hold
1o show a king to such a man as I'"
And straightway it was done. Then Izza spake
Unto the guards and said: "Go! Bring thee
now
From out the city wall a child to make
It's first obeisance to the king. Speed thou!"
Jn Izza's name, Izza, the great and good
Went this strange word, 'mid stir and trum
pet's ring,
And straightway came alone and wondering
stood
A child within the presence of the king.
The king Her dark eyes. Cashing, fearless
gazed
To where 'mid pomp and splendor three there
sate.
One, 'neath a glittering crown, shrunk sore
amazed;
One cringed upon the carven throne of state.
"The third, wrapped with a royal robe, hung low
His head in awkward shame.and could notsee
""Beyond the blazoned hem that was to show
How any man thus garbed a king might be!
TVondering. paused the child, then turned to
where
One stood apart, his arms across his breast;
Jo crown upon the silver of his hair,
Black-gowned and still of stately mien pos
sessed; "Jfo "broidered robe nor gemmed device to tU
Whose was that brow, majestic with its mlna;
"But lo, one look and straight she prostrate fell
Before great Izza, kingliest of his kind!
Around the shining well, at close of day.
Beyond the cesert, 'neath the palm's grean
ring,
'TT-iree stopped to quaff a draught and paused to
say:
,"Ltfe to great Izza ! Long may he be king '."
--Virginia Woodward Cloud, in Youth's Com-
panion.
Copyright, 1894. by
the Author.
IHE most astute
of modern phi
losophers seems
rather to dis
count biogra
phy when he suggests that cariosity
ebout genius and its personality has
TOtvn to such a pitch that we are in
clined to take more interest in the man
than in his works. It is possible that
ie intends this view to apply only to
those who in these days of the triumph
Of the personal paragraph in journal
ism prefer to read, say, what has been
written about Goethe than to 6tudy his
-dramatic poem of Faust. But to my
mind there is no branch of literature
ASTOJTIO CAHOYA.
; From a Bust by Himself.
jrore interesting1 than biography, and
2 am quite sure that many of our
traders must have felt with me the in
tense pleasure of coming1 upon a book
which has suddenly and unexpectedly
revealed the mystery of some pictures
wiich we have seen in the shop win
dews of our boyhood. Such books are
generally biographies. I remember sev
en! pictures that haunted me as a boy.
Anong them were "The Retreat from
Mscow," and "Young1 Canova Mod
elfag the Lion." Where or under
wlat cirenmstances I saw the latter I
cainot recall; but I have still in my
mild the graceful figure of the boy
Xnaiipulating the anatomy of a lion, a
pie.uresque person by his side, a kind
of pip-kin on a table, Bundry
nlque .bowls upon the floor; and
I remember a fellow dreamer tell
ing1 me that the picture repre
sented a boy who modeled a lion and
was made king- of the sculptors.
Everybody, of course, knows all about
Canova and his wondrous works. If
you look into encyclopedias and books
on art yon will find quite a catalogue of
his groups in . marble, and you will
learn that to him belongs the honor of
having1 restored to sculpture the posi
tion which before his day it had lost
among1 the fine arts in Italy. I should
not wonder that we have a modern
Canova in England at the present time,
in a neighbor of mine who is making
as powerful a mark on English art as
Canova made on Italian in his day.
But what I set out to do was to amuse
myself and my readers with a bit of
biography which is just as fine as any
thing in fiction. I propose to make the
briefest kind of 6toryout of two true in
cidents in the life of one of the world'
greatest artists.
He was only three years old when his
father died. His mother married again
and he was left to the care of his grand
mother. He was a delicate boy with
dreamy eyes and a natural love of the
beautiful. This is a common gift in
Italy. Thougbtful, loving and wise
guardians of children are uncommon.
This boy was blessed with 'both; other
wise he must have died in infancy. The
world knows nothing of its losses of
children who might have lived to be
great. The bero of this romance of
youth was born in a little village
under the government of the an
cient Bepublic of Venice. His grand
mother delighted in everything that
pleased I him. She told him stories
of Venice and sang to him the romantic
songs of their native hills and valleys.
The adventurous history of the adjacent
seas were full of romance, the fairy
tales, the religious fables, the romantic
ballads of the country sunk deep into
the little heart of the lad as he grew up
and began to appreciate the beauties of
the world into which he had been born.
His grandfather was the stonemason
of the village, whose work had won for
him a local fame. He resolved that the
boy should be his successor and to this
end he had him taught drawing. The
boy indeed had a pencil put into his
hands while he was still an infant.
The grandmother had Btored the little
mind with bright and poetic fancies,
while she strengthened the body with
the watchful care of a loving nurse.
The grandfather when the time was
opportune turned the lad's fancy into
practical directions. In an Italian vil
lage there would be the right kind of
sympathy for a boy who showed a
natural artistic temperament, though
some of the lad's playmates complained
of his "sullenness," a youthful mistake
for "thought" Soon after he had be
gun to make figures of men and things
on paper the shrewd stonemason put a
lump of clay before him and showed
him how sculptors modeled, the in
struction being crude, of course, but
useful. The grandfather, watching the
apt pupil, pictured him at some future
day in his place adding ornaments to
the village tombstones, displaying his
cleverness upon new buildings, and
otherwise maintaining the reputation
of Passagno, which was the name of
this Italian village.
At the early age of nine the boy was
able to help his grandfather In the
shop. Hitherto he had only amused
himself, though always in a way that
could not fail to be of service when the
time should come for him to take his
grandfather's place. But grandfather
and grandmother to their sorrow had to
confess that the boy continued to be far
from 6trong. The affectionate old dame
nurtured him with the greatest care,
and the village mason softened the lad's
labors. Observing that the modeling
of flowers and animals gave him more
delight than any other occupation, he
encouraged him in this enjoyment of
his natural bent; and the boy became
quite a little expert, especially in the
modeling of animals. He was only
fourteen when an incident occurred to
bring him to the notice of a noble pa
tron of the arts. In those days both
art and literature owed almost every
thing to the special recognition and as
sistance of the aristocracy.
The nobleman in this case had a pal
ace near the cottage home of the young
modeler. He had a chef who not fculy
prided himself on his cooking, but
upon the artistic arrangement of his
table. By some accident or strange
oversight at almost the last moment of
the serving of one of the nobleman's
great banquets it was found that the
principal ornament of the table was
still wanting. Wonderful constructions
in sugar, cleverly cut flowers from
vegetable growths, artistic designs
in paste and other perishable foods
bore witness to the cleverness of the
chef and his assistants, but the central
design was wanting. The stonemason
was known to be a skillful designer.
He was sent for, but found himself un
equal to the emergency. The genius
of the grandson prompted the lad to
take at the flood the tide that so early
and in so prosaic a fashion had come to
him with fame and fortune. Looking
round for some material for his pur
pose he asked the servants fr a jar of
butter. Provided with this he deliber
ately sat down at the kitchen table
and modeled a lion. The work was
done with wonderful rapidity, and to
the admiration of his grandfather and
the lookers-on. Never was butter put
to such artistic use. Host and guests
all admired the work, and inquired for
the author of it Informed who had
modeled the lion, and under what cir
cumstances, the nobleman desired that
the boy should be brought into the
banqueting hall to receive bis thanks
k.nd felicitations.
From this first step the boy's position
was assured. The nobleman became
his patron. He was placed in the
studios of the greatest Italian sculp
tors in Rome. His genius had its full
6wing. The technique of his art
seemed to come to him almost by in
tuition; but had womed hard neverthe
less, and he learned much in his grand
father's shop. His new instructoi was
enthusiastic. He took pleasure in
watching the growth of the lad's pow
ers and in helping their development
Am time went on his pupil's success was
so great that bis master offered to adopt
him and give him his name; he pro
posed indeed that be should be his son
and heir; but the lad preferred to keep
his own name and his independence,
while at the same time showing his
gratitude to his master and friend. The
boy grew to manhood, not robust phys
ically, but the greatest sculptor of Italy.
His name lives on the imperishable roll
of fame; it is Antonio Canova, the po
tency of which has made his patron,
FallerL illustrious, and helped to keep
green the work and memory of his
master, Toretto the elder.
It seems necessary to a full estimate
of the beautiful and the true that genius
should suffer; that there should be
some deep sorrow in its life. In C a. no
va's case it is a pathetic love story.
When he was studying at the Academy
of Fine Arts in Home a beautiful girl
entered the gallery with a female
friend. They came every day for a
long time. The girl was a student
ner friend left her until the hour for
closing, when she returned to accom
pany her home, The girl occupied her
time in drawing from the antique; and
Canova at his work stole many an ad
miring glance at the young artist. He
would have spoken to her had he not
come to love her. Her beauty was of
that dedicate and refined character that
could not fail to appeal to the heart
and fancy of the young sculptor. Once
he heard her praise his work, and her I
- T-I i
words were music to mm. ne wor
shiped the girl at a distance, continu
ally making up his mind to declare his
passion, but not daring to do so lest he
should prevent her from making her
EOST ASD GUESTS ALL ADMIRED T0
WORK.
daily visit to the gallery. As his grand
mother's 6ongs and stories inspired his
earliest fancy, the girl student awoke in
his imagination new and more impas
sioned sensations, which, alas, were des
tined to a sad and somber ec-lipse. One
day the girl did not appear. The next
day brought her net Canova was incon
solable. Weeks passed. He was almost
heartbroken, when to his joy the friend
reappeared, and he looked for the glrL
Then as suddenly as the flush of hope had
come into his face he noticed that the
friend was attired In mourning and
that she was alone. Canova now found
courage enough to speak. Where was
her companion? "Julia is dead!" was
the agonized reply, the bitterness of
which was an abiding tonic to the cloy
ing sweetness of success. The dream
of that first love must have brought a
human influence into Canova's work
that has helped to give a lasting fame.
Critics mention that after a certain pe
riod "he did not adhere to the severe
simplicity of the antique, but rather
took pains to mitigate it by a peculiar
grace an loveliness of his own, such as
characterized his group of Cupid and
Psyche." To what extent that episode
of the gallery in Eome moulded the
fancy and imagination of the sculptor
in his departure from the severity of
the classic who shall say? Many things
in a man's life go to the making or
marring of his work. Under the divine
hand the world owes the consolation
and delight of Canova's art firstly to
the care of his grandmother and the
gentle forbearance and love of his
grandfather. But for his love of the
girl in the Roman gallery and the
pathos of it the cold austerity of the
classic school might have frozen the
holiest and most human impulses of
sculptor who gave to Europe the
noblest examples of the art of sculpture.
This story points its own moral.
May I add a word to it? There was a
year's Academy, of Handel as an infant
in h is nightgown playing upon an old
harps hicord in the middle of the night
His father had been so annoyed by the
boy's strumming that he had banished
the instrument to a garret or loft,
wh ither the child had climbed to exer
cise its genius for music. How often
may the impulse of genius be crushed
out by ignorant or unappreciative par
ents. A principle of education among
the Jesuits is to study the natural idi
osyncrasies of their pupils. Parents
should do the same in regard to their
children. With the example of those
two old people who brought up Can
ova as a lesson, I venture to appeal to
fathers and mothers to study well the
characters and impuises of their chil
dren. It should be remembered that
it is among the children of to-day that
the future great ones of tie earth are
to be found; and who shall say in
which family the swan for the time
being is hidden beneath the unfamiliar
feathers of "the ugly duckling?"
Plain Duty.
The man wanted a pension for a
wound received in the service and one
day he applied for it That is to say,
he wasdiscovered by a claim agent and
the -claim agent took him before au ex
aminer. "What's this pension for?" asked the
examiner. "For wounds receive! in
the service?"
"Of course," said the agent, with a
flourish.
"In the line of duty?"
"Certainly."
The examiner looked over the records
a few moments.
"Why," he exclaimed, "the record
shows this man was shot while running
away in the face of the enemy. Do you
call that in the line of duty?"
The agent was stumped, but the ap
plicant was ready.
"You bet it was," he said. "They
was shootin plum at me with intent to
kill, and wasn't it my duty to git away
if I could?"
The case was held for advisement
Detroit Free Press.
Even beauty cannot palliate
centricity. Balzaa.
PERSONAL AND LITERARY.
William, the Conqueror, became so
stout that he could hardly walk. His
death was caused by his horse plung
ing violently and throwing him again.it
the pommel of the saddle.
United States Senator Perkins, of
California, has been visiting his native
town of Kennebunkport, Me. He was
twelve years old when he left his home
suddenly, going upon a long sea voy
age as cabin-boy, and later before the
mast
Lord Frederick Hamilton, one of
the two editors of Mr. Astor's "Pall
Jlall Magazine," is a younger brother
of the dnke of Abercorn. He served
for sevtre.1 years in the diplomatic serv
ice, and has represented Manchester in
parliament. Sir Douglass Straight,
Lord Frederick's coadjutor, is a retired
Indian judge, formerly a London law
yer and journalist
In the death of Prof. Aloys Spreng
er orientalists have suffered a severe
loss. Born in the Tyrol, he went early
in life to London, where Count Muns
ter, the German ambassador, was his
powerful friend. Among the profes
sor's works are "The Life and Teach
ing's of Mohammed." "The Geographv
of Ancient Arabia," "Post and Travel
ing Routes in the Orient," and "Spreng
er's Oriental Library."
Few books will be more eagerly
awaited in France than the two vol
umes of "Souvenirs"' which Madame
Octave Feuillet, the widow of the nov
elist, is about to publish. The lifelong
devotion of husband and wife was well
known in the gay capital. The atmos
phere about the married life of Valerie
Dubois, of Saint Lo, and Octave Feuil
let, of Paris, was as much above the
ordinary as "Le Roman d'un Jeune
Homme Pauvre" was above its immedi
ate contemporaries.
Col. Frank Burr, the well-known
newspaper correspondent, who died at
Camden, N. J., when three j-ears old j
was stolen by the Chippewa Indians. I
He remained with the Indians until he !
was nine years old, when they left him
behind them on a trip to Detroit, then
a trading post He became a news
boy, and at the age of seventeen he en- '
listed as private in the Union army to '
fight against the confederacy. He rose
rapidly in the service, and at twenty !
he commanded a battalion. 1
An English paper tells a good story
of clerical presence of mind. A curate
who had entered the pulpit provided
with one of the late Eev. Charles Brad
ley's most recent homilies was for a
moment horror-struck by the sight of
Eev. Charles Bradley himself in a pew
beneath him. Immediately, however,
he recovered enough self-possession to
be able to say: "The beautiful sermon
I'm about to preach is by Eev. Charles
Bradley, who I'm glad to see in good
health among us assembled here."
Cervantes often went hungry for
want of means; Camoens died in a
charity hospital; Milton's old age was
spent in extreme poverty; Tasso was
compeled to borrow small sums from
his acquaintance; Ariosto was always
poor and dependent. Cardinal Benti
voglio spent his old age in distressful
want; Vaugelas, the great French
classicist, left his body to the surgeons
to help pay his debts; Dryden was so
pestered by his creditors that he sold
Torson, the publisher, ten thousand
lines for three hundred pounds; John
son lived from hand to mouth until he
got his pension, and most of his liter
ary contemporaries lived and died ia
great want
HUMOROUS.
"John, dear," said Mrs. Hicks, "I'm
making a shirt for the heathen. Come
here and let me fit it on you, will
you?"
"How abont Mr. Jingles, our new
eighbor; he is a number one husband,
isn't he?"' "Oh, dear, no; he's number
four, anyway." Inter-Ocean.
"My muvver, she's French, she is,
bet I'm English, an' so's my farver."
"An' what's yer little sister?" "Dunno
she can't talk yet." Judy.
Willie "Auntie, what is meant bv
'unanimous consent in congress?"
Aunt Sarah "When ther' all talkin' to
wun'set" Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Teacher "And one thing more.
Always say what you think or keep
silent" Pupil "But suppose I should
become a lawyer." Teacher "That's
different." Boston Transcript.
Wife "Have vou noticed what
beautiful blue eyes our new pastor
has?" Husband "How could 1? He
keeps his eyes closed when he prays,
and I keep mine closed when he
preaches." Hello.
Mrs. Dukane "The newspaper has
an article which says that in Eussia a
spinster is a curiosity." Mr. Dukane
"Well, there's a good deal of curiosity
about spinsters in this country, too."
Pittsburgh Chronicle.
Mrs. Slocum (with an attempt at
weariness) "I have to make a lot of
6tupid calls this afternoon." Mr.
Slocum "Well, how much did it cost
this time?" "What?" "Why, your new
hat, of course." Detroit Tribune.
"Why, mamma, you've got a gray
hair in your bang'" "Yes, dear. That
came because you were so naughty
3'esterday." "O mamma, what a
naughty little girl you must have been
to grandma! All her hair is gray."
"The next gown I shall issue,"
said the ladies' tailor, "will be the tri
umph of the century." "Indeed," said
his humble assistant "Yes, indeed.
It will be impossible to tell from its
shape that there is a woman in it at
all." Indianapolis Journal.
At a banquet that I attendee, not
long aro. the gentleman in charge of
the dinner tickets went up to the lead
er cf the vocalists who were to enter
tain the guests with songs, with this
inquiry: "How many of you are there
in j our quartet?" Boston Herald.
Sayso "Those who love books al
most invariably love dogs. That is a
rule with, I think, few exceptions.
Nowitt "I am one of the exceptions.
Sayso "You love books and hate
doirs?" Nowitt "Exactly." Sayso
"That is straDge." Nowitt "Not in
the least; I am a book agent.'' P. & 8.
6. S. Co. Bulletin.
FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
I'LL DO WHAT I CAN.
Z may not set the world on fire.
Nor start a grand "combine;
Nor be a triple millionaire.
Or own a diamond mine.
X never may be president.
Or any famous man:
But there ia work for all to do.
And I'll do what I can.
If 'Washington had said: "Dear met
There's nothing can do;
The country's bound to go to smash.
And precious quickly, too!"
Most Likely we should still have been
Oppressed by Britain's clan;
But Washington did what he could.
And I'll do what I can. j
Ben Franklin did not loaf around,
From morn till set of sun.
And grumble that some other man
Had wealth when he had none.
While yet the stars were is the sky
His dally task began;
Ee did whatever he could do.
And I'll do what I can.
TTe may not all be Ciceros,
And charm admiring throngs,
Nor write immortal treatises.
Or sing immortal songs;
But each can fill some little groove.
In nature's wondrous plan.
And help the world to turn around.
So I'll do what I can.
Helen W. Clark, in Golden Days.
INSECT PAPER-HANGERS.
A Bee That Makes Bright Hangings for
Its Fine Chamber. -
A small bee. with a long Latin
name, "Anthrophora argentata," is a
ver3 fastidious little animal with re
gard to her dwelling place. This
insect bores a vertical hole into the
ground and lines its sides with
pieces of flower petals, especially
those of the poppy, which make a very
bright hanging for such a tiny cham
ber. Before harvesting time sets in in
the summer this little insect's com
fortable nest can be found in any of
the paths that lead through the fields.
A grass blade pushed down into the
hole brings to light a narrow red pass
age way several inches long, and moist
with drops of honey of a somewhat
sour taste.
An observant person wandering
through the corn and wheat fields will
come across many poppies from which
tiny pieces seem to have been cut as
accurately as if done with a pair of
scissors. These pieces are all oval,
half an inch long and a little less than
half an inch wide. These little pieces
the bee carries to its little house. era wis
in first and drags them in after, then
smoothing them out and pasting them
to the sides. It takes through enough
such pieces to reach around the wall,
and they are put on double. Three or
four are piled up at the bottom to
make a snug little bed. The bee se
lects the petals of the poppy because
they are thinner and finer than those
of other wild flowers, and can be more
easily handled by this small paper
hanger. The honey furnishes the
necessary food for the young bees.
Sometimes ants discover the tiny storage-house
and carry off its 6weets.
The next day, however, the entrance
to the hole is tightly closed, and no
one could find it again, unless he had
marked the spot. In closing up its
abode, the bee pushes down the top
leaves, thus stripping the upper walls
of their tapestry hanging. If the hole
has been closed up on June 22 the
maggot changes into a chrysalis on
July 1. It is not yet known when the
bee develops, nor how it works itself
out of this place, but it is supposed
that it does so by gnawing through
the top leaves and pushing the earth
upward until it reaches the surface.
St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
THE SNAIL'S MOUTH.
It Contains a. Tours Ballt on the Prin
ciple of a Handsaw.
"It's a fortunate thing for man and
the rest of the animal kingdom." said
the naturalist, '"that no large wild an
imal has a mouth constructed with the
devouring apparatus built on the plan
of the insignificant-looking snail's
mouth, for that animal could out-devour
anything that lives. The snail
itself is such an entirely unpleasant,
not to say loathsome, creature to han
dle, that few amateur naturalists care
to bother with it, but by neglecting
the snail they miss studying one of the
most interesting objects that come un
der their observation.
"Anyone who has noticed a snail
feeding on a leaf must have wondered
how such a soft, flabby, slimy animal
can make such a sharp and clean-cut
incision in the leaf, leaving an edge as
smooth and straight as if it had been
cut with a knife. That is due to the
peculiar and formidable mouth be has.
The snail eats with his tongue and the
roof of his mouth. The tongue is a
ribbon which the snail keeps in a coil
in his mouth. The tongue is in reality
a band-saw, with the teeth on the sur
face instead of on the edge. The teeth
are so small that as many as 80,000 of
them have been found on one snail's
tongue. He can uncoil as much of this
as he chooses, and the uncoiled part he
brings into service. The roof of his
mouth is as hard as bone. He grasps
the leaf between his tongue and that
hard substance and, rasping away
with his tongue, saws through the
toughest leaf with ease, always leav
ing the edge very smooth and
straight."
No Dissenting Toice.
"I'm a sort of April fool," said the
man with the wart on his nose.
"Born the first day of April?" casu
ally inquired the man with the gray
spot in his mustache.
"No Married."
"1 don't know whether that made
you an April fool or not," said the man
in the mackintosh, lighting a cigar,
"but whoever picked you up for a val
uable package that day got badly April
fooled."
And there was a most unanimous
nd approving silence all around the
board. Chicago Ti-'bune.
Would Have tt-m Fan Afterward.
nis Mother Tommy, if you fight
with little Willie Walters to-day I shall
put you to bed for two hours.
Tommy Put me to bed, now, ma.
Chicago Eecord,
WHY OLD WOOLLY DIED.
Hilled by Having to Listen to Dally Dlm
.Museum Lectures.
He was just an ordinary, everyday
colt, and an ordinary, everyday young
horse, nis master had neither tixn
nor inclination to give much attention
to the horse's toilet. Nevertheless, a
strange thing happened. His hair, day
after day and month after month, grev
more and more curly until finally "Old
Woolly" became one of the features of
the town.
"I'll give you two hundred dollars
for your horse," said a stranger one
day.
"You can have him," was the reply,
as that was.about twice his real value.
The stranger was from a dime mu
seum, and Old Woolly's hard work was
over. The rest suited him well enough,
but amid the din of street noises and
the tooting of a band, Old Woolly
listened daily to talk like this:
"Here, gentlemen, is a most marvel
ous freak of nature. Our agents dis
covered him in the mines of Siberia.
Working underground, Old Blofsky.
famous among the miners Hi that rW
OLD WOOLLT.
gion, was deprived of the light of day
for years. By some curious process,
which Has puzzled the mqst distin
guished veterinary surgeons of bott
continents, his hair began to curl. The
hair became woolly in its texture en
tirely by natural processes. Gentle
men, he is the only one of his kind."
Poor Old Woolly had to endure this
day after day. He lost his spirits and
began to grow ilL The hot, stifling ah?
of the museum aggravated his illness,
until one day, as the showman was de
livering his speech to the gaping crowd,
Old Woolly quietly lay down and
breathed bis last. Youth's Companion.
HELPS FOR DRAWING.
How to Make a Compass, Flat Ruler and
Square at Home.
If you have to make a geometrical
drawing, and you have neither com
pass, flat ruler, nor square, you wiH be
somewhat embarrassed, will you not?
Well, here is a method of supplying,
by common objects always at hand.
the three instruments that are want
ing. The square ruler of the schoolboy ia
never straight enough to replace tha
flat ruler of the draughtsman. A sheet
of strong paper will furnish a much
better ruler. According to the geomet
rical theorem, a straight line is a line
whose direction is not changed be
tween any two of its points. Now wa
know that if we fold a sheet of paper
on a perfectly plane table, he line of
the folded part will not be changed be
tween either of its parts, but will be a
perfectly straight line.
The square is also an instrument in
dispensable to the draughtsman.
We can also make this of a sheet of
strong paper, by folding it first in
two, and then in four, taking care to
make the two parts of the first fold
coincide exactly with the others. The
second fold will be perpendicular to
the first, because it forms with the first
fold two adjacent equal angles, con
sequently two right angles, and the
angle which has its summit at the
meeting point of the two folds will
form the right angle of our square.
Now I will show you how to impro
vise a pair of compasses. Take a
penknife with two blades, the larger
the better. The point of one of the
blades will be the sticking-point of the
compasses. We stick it at the center
of the circle (or of the arc of the cir
cle) which we are about to trace. Now
fasten firmly the end of the other blade
in a piece of pencil, whose length -will
vary according to the size of the knife.
This will be the tracing point. Now
we may cause the opening of the blades
to vary according to the radius of the
circumference which we wish to trace;
and we should hold the instrument
lightly by the end of the handle near
est the tracing point, as shown in our
illustration. La Nature.
Remarkable Little Magnets.
A magnet which the great Sir Isaac
Newton wore as a set in his finger
ring is said to have been capable of
raising 746 grains, or about 250 times
its own weight of three grains, and to
have been much admired in conse
quence of its phenomenal power. One
which .formerly belonged to Sir John
Leslie, and which is now in the Eoyal
Society's collection at Edinburgh, has
still greater powers. It weighs but
little more than Newton's curiosity
even Zi grains yet it is capable of
supporting 1,500 grains, and is, there
fore, the strongest magnet of its siza
n the world.
