GOLDILOCKS.
Gold Muck ut ob tht grut.
Tying op of poalaa fair.
Hardly oould a lunbaam paM
Through the eload that was her balr.
Pnrpla orchldi laateth long,
Primroea flowert are fair and clear.
Oh, the maiden ung a acme
It would do you good to hear.
Bad before her leaned the boy,
"Ooldllooka. that I lore well:
Happr creature, fair and cojr,
Think o' me, tweet Annabel."
Goldilocka ihe ihook apart.
Looked with doubtful, boubtful era,
Like a bloaaom In her heart.
Opened out her first surprise.
The boy may clear bis brow.
Though she thinks to say him nay.
When she sighs, "I cannot now;
Come agein some other day."
Jean Ingelow
THE ENGINE DRIVER.
Tea, sir. That old ahuntln' engine
that's puffing an' snortin' like a
broken-winded old horse, could tell a
tale, it it wasn't so short o' breath.
That's the very engine old John
Wright used to drive when I was his
stoker. Let me see I've been drlvln'
three year aye, It'll be ten year
come next September. He was a fine
figure of a man, was John. He stood
six feet one an' a half in his stockin's.
an' was broad In the shoulders, too
In bis greasy peaked cap, an' oily blue
Jacket, he looked a giant.
"Waa he an old man?"
"Oh, no; he'd be forty odd, I sup
pose, but I was a young man of
twenty-three, an' he seemed old, like,
to me. As I've said, he was a bachelor
an', as far as I knew, likely to remain
one. There wasn't much of the la
dles' man about John. But still
waters run deep, they say, an' John
Wright had his little secret.
"About three mile out o' town, I
used to notice that he whistled three
times and always looked across a
couple o' fields, a bit farther on, as If
he were lookin' for somethin. I ask
ed him once or twice what It was, but
he edged me off, an' changed the sub
ject, so I didn't press it. But I kept
my eyes open.
"It was early winter when I first
went on to stoke for John, an', of
course, bein' a goods train, It was gen
eraly gettin' on for eight o'clock at
night when we passed this partie'lar
spot, bound for Barnham, fifty mile
away. It's 'up bank,' as I daresay you
know, from here to Longbrldge, eight
mile up the line, an' we never got any
great speed on until we'd passed that
length, espcclaly when we'd a heavy
freight. But all I could make out
for some months was the dim outline
of a cottage, that had an 'upstairs'
window with a red blind. The cottage
lay a couple o' fields away. What
made me notice the red blind was that
as we passed, the window was always
suddenly lighted up.
"Aye, an' so was John Wright's face
as soon as ever be saw it. Such a
smile! an' he bad a kind face, nad
old John an' then he'd seem lost a
bit, as if he were thinkln' o' somethin'
as was good to think about.
"I chaffed John rarely about it, first
time I saw It, an' he blushed he did
indeed sir! Though his face was
grimy on the top, and copper color
under that, I'll swear he blushed. But
he looked pleased an' proud, for, by
that time, we'd grown such thick
friends, that I'm sure he didn't mind
me knowln'.
"Then, bit by bit, It all came out.
John and her father, who used to be
pointsman at Chubb Junction, half a
mile farther up the line than the cot
tage, had been lads together. John
had gone up for a 'camp' every Sunday
for many a year. He'd known Mary
Mathers since she was born, an' when
she was a little lass he'd nursed her
on his knee, an" told her he'd wait for
her. I dare say he meant it In fun at
the time, but, as she grew up, he knew
he liked to be where she was better
than anywhere else in the world.
That's how he put It, sir. Then Tom
Mathers, her father, fell ill, an' I
learnt afterwards, an' I guessed even
then, that John Wright made his
wages keep four Instead of one. Mary's
father never worked again. He was
on his back for eighteen months, an'
then be died.
"An' then, you may be sure, John
was a father to the fatherless, an' a
husband to the widow as far as look
in' after 'em went, at any rate only
he wanted to be a husband to the
daughter, Mary.
"Mary seemed to make no objection.
Why should she? She'd never met
anybody she liked better, an' a finer
fellow than John Wright never walk
ed! "One Saturday night he says:
"Harry, you'd better walk o'er wl' me
to-morrow.
' 'Walk o'er wP you,' I says;
'where?'
" 'Why, to Mrs. Mathers', to be sure.
I'd like you to know my Mary. An'
then vou can tell me what you think
of my swetheart'. An' as he said it
that sweet, far-off look came In his
face, an' I knew be loved that lass as
few lasses are loved.
"Well, I went; an' I wished at tne
time I'd stayed away. It was love at
first sight wl' me, an' I felt I should
never, never be the same again. Ood
forgl' me! but after that 8unday I felt
at timet I hated John Wright. When
he stood at the stile, at the croslng
midway between the cottage an' the
signal-box as she did every evenln'
from the very day I went wl' John
an' waved her hand to him, bashful
like, an' he threw her a clumsy kiss
I felt I could ha' knocked him off the
engine.
"I fought again' It an', you must
understand, I didn't feel that way all
the time, for we ware good frienda,
an' no on would have Been a differ
ence; but when he talked of ber, In his
quiet way ef bein' wad, an" such-like
It waa like knives In ma.
"Then he pressed me to go again
an' spend Sunday at the cottage. I
put him off, but be wouldn't take
'no' for an answer. So, whether for
fear of hurtin' his feelings, or because
I couldn't keep away, I can't say, but
I yielded, an' went After that I
went several times, an' each time I
got deeper an' deeper in love with
John's sweetheart, aye, an' what
seemed worse, I couldn't help knowln'
that Mary was troubled the same way.
But I will say this, I never tried to
make Mary love me, an' never a word
of love passed between us, but,
sometimes, I thought I saw trouble in
Johu's eyes, an' then I vow to myself
to go no more.
"One evenln', in the early autumn
of that year, we were goln' at as good
a speed as the Incline would let us,
an' just gettin' towards the cottage.
John had sent me around to tb'
front o' the engine with my oil-can,
an' I couldn't help lookin' ahead to
see if Mary was standin' waltin' at
the stile. Yes, she was ther
as usual, right in front of us, for the
line curved to the right just at the
stile, an' was hidln' from view be
hind a little wood. I could see her
print dress, an' the same white linen
bonnet she wore when I first saw her
In the garden on that spring evenln.
Oh, how my heart went out to her,
an' how that old wicked feelin' to
wards John rushed through me, an'
made my nerves tingle from head to
foot.
"Mary had her back towards us
a very unusual thing an' I remember
wonderin' why. Then the usual
three whistles sounded, short an'
sharp. She turned instantly, an'
threw up her hands like one demented.
We went thunderin' down to the
crossin' where she stood, an' I saw her
eyes starin' at me, like coals of fire set
In a face as white as chalk. She fas
cinated me.
"Just then old John shut off steam,
an' I heard him doin' a thing he'd
never done afore reversin' the en
gine! All of a sudden Mary seemed
to wake up, an find a horrible dream
true, for I heard above the roar of
the train, the grindln' of the rails, an'
the shriek of the brakes.that bad been
Jammed hard down I heard one
piercing scream. It was a word my
name 'Harry!'
"Of course, all this happened In a
breathless second or two. Half a life
time is sometimes squeezed into half
a minute, sir. I took my eyes from
Mary's face as we passed her, stand
in' as if turned to stone, an' I looked
ahead. Heavens! what a Bight!
Bearin' down on us at a great speed
was an engine an' tender a runaway!
It was comln" down the bank tender
first, an' we were timed to meet at
the junction. I saw It all in a flash.
The train was jumpln' like a buckin'
horse, an', with my body all of a
tremble, I'd as much as I could do to
get back to the foot-plate.
"There Btood John Wright, ot
course, I seemed to see him, an'
naught else. He'd done all man could
do, an' was standin' stock-still, with
one hand on the lever. But It wasn't
his stillness that made the tears start
to my eyes. It was the look on his
face. It made me nearly forget the
doom to which we were rushing. I
can't describe It. It was the look of
a man who has nothing left to live
for whose hope had been suddenly
wiped clean out for ever.
"The Instant he saw me his face
changed. He sprang towards me an',
seizin' me by the arm with a grip of
steel, spoke In a horse whisper that
could be heard above everything:
'Jump off, my lad you've time you
can do it. Jump off! for her sake
she loves thee, lad she loves thee
for her sake. Harry for Heaven's
sake!'
"I Bald. 'Nay, John.' "
' 'Quick,' he Bays. 'Harry! Harry!
Jump for your Mary's Bake;'
"I swung one leg off the engine
life was dear an' prepared to spring
into the grass. Then a great surgln'
love for this man came over me, an'
I turned sudden-like, an took him by
the hand, an' I says, 'John, we'll stick
together, an' die together If It's God's
will for her sake'. An' he Just gave
me that sweet look, an' stepped In
front of me, as if to put his great
frame betwixt me an' death, an' there
came a crash as If heaven an' earth
had met, an' I seemed to roll over an'
over, an' then It felt as If the whole
earth had risen up an' smitten me
an' 1 knew no more.
"I woke from a troubled dream, that
seemed to have lasted a lifetime, an'
opened my eyes, half conscious, an'
not sure but I was still dreamin'
Then I slipped off again, an' I remem
ber thinking that the sweet eyes, that
mine had seemed to meet, were the
eyes of my guardian angel. An' they
were, sir for, when I opened my eyes
again, all the past came back to me
with the tearful face of Mary Mathers.
"I put my hand out on the counter
pane, an' she put hers gently on the
top of It. An', believe me, sir, that's
the only way I ever 'popped the ques
tion.' We'd been through too much
together to need much fuss.
'"Where Is he?' I framed my Hps
to say. I don't know whether she
heard, but she understood, for she put
her hand Into her bosom, an' drew
out a black-edged card, an' held It
before my eyes, whilst her own filled
again with tears. I read: 'In love
Ing memory of John Wright, who was
killed at the post of duty.' "
"And you've been happy In your
married life?"
"Happy! Happy Isn't the word for
It, sir. OQr la one of the matches
made in Heaven.''
HE S0U6HT HIS LIBERTY.
STORY OF THE LAST SURVIVOR
His Family Was Free and He too
Longed for Freedom After a Vain
Effort to Run Away He waa at Last
Allowed to Buy Himself.
There la living in Lexington an old
negro, Harry Slaughter, who Is the
last survivor of the negro insurrection
of 1849. He waa born on March 18,
1818, and grew to be a man of remark
able physique.
In 1849 he waa owned by Miss Sid
ney Edmiston, who had at that tim'
one of the most costly residences in
Lexington. She had a fondness foi
male servants of gigantic proportions,
and on acount of his size he was made
a dining-room man. Although well
treated, he longed for freedom This
is the story be told one day of his at
tempt to obtain it. He is now in
his eightieth year.
"I was in my prime, going on 32
years old," he said, "when a man
named Doyle came to me and told me
that he would pilot me across the
Ohio River for $100 and guarantee me
safe conduct. All my family were
free, the girl to whom I was engaged
to be married was freeborn, and I
wanted to marry my sweetheart as a
free man and not as a slave. On a
Saturday night In the first week In
August, 1849, Doyle and forty-five of
us negroes left Lexington by way of
the Russell Cave Pike. We wen
armed with pistols and bowle knives.
I carried an old fashioned pepperbox
revolver and a large bowle knife. The
movement was afterward referred to
as an 'Insurrection,' but it was mis
named. We did not Intend to fight
unless attempts were made to capture
us, but we pledged ourselves that if
we were overtaken by white men and
they made an effort to capture us wc
would fight as long as possible.
"We travelled all night that first
night and remained hidden during the
day in the bushes. We ate roasted
ears of corn which we gathered from
the cornfields through which we pass
ed. Sunday night we continued our
travels, and we reached a point by
daylight on Monday morning near
Ruddell's mill.
On Tuesday night we were within
five miles of the Ohio River.
"The news of our escape from Lex
ington had reached the people of that
section, and a posse of twenty-five
men, including county officials, was
in close pursuit of us. The men scat
tered in all directions, and only one
remained with me, a negro known a&
'Shad.' When we reached the Licking
River we plunged in and swam and
waded across. Then ten or a dozen
white men surrounded us. They
quickly captured Shad and tied him
but I was determined they should not
take me. I cried out in a loud voice:
"'I will not be taken! Ihe man
that kills me is my friend! I had
rather die here and now than go back
to slavery!'
"Miss Sidney's nephew, Maury Pin
dell, had, unknown to me, offered
$000 reward for my safe return to
Lexington. The men who had sur
rounded me were working for this re
ward, I afterward learned, and that
Is the reason they did not try to kill
me. The men tried to take me, and
as fast as they would come within
striking distance I would knock them
down. I fought them for five minutes
with my fists. I had thrown my bowie
knife away for fear I might kill one ol
them. When the ten men found they
could not capture me they called to
the other members of their posse, fif
teen in number, who were on the
mountain. They came down. They
were led by a great big man with a
coarse voice. He wanted to know
why they didn't take me. One of the
men told him that they couldn't. The
big man got very mad and declare
that he had never seen a negro that he
couldn't take. He made at me, and
when he came within striking distance
I knocked him down. Several of hia
followers tried to help him out, but 1
knocked them down as fast as they
came to me. Finally an old gentleman
with gray hair, who was called Major
by the men, began talking to me. He
said they didn't want to hurt me, and
if I would go with him be would take
me to Brooksvllle and would not allow
me to be harmed. I respected his age
and his gray hairs and told him that
I would go with him.
"The next day they reached Brooks
vllle with us and I was kept in Jail
for seven weeks. I was charged with
being one of the ringleaders of the 'In
surrection,' but Madison C. Johnson,
Maury l'indell and Judge Graves came
down to Brooksvllle and interceded In
my behalf. They proved that we wer
not insurrectionists, but were simply
trying to obtain our freedom. Well, 1
was taken back to Lexington and put
Into Pulllam's negro Jail. I was kept
there for a month or more. Miss Sid
ney had a long talk with me and con
sented to let me buy myself. I immed
lately borrowed the money and married
my sweetheart, and in Just five years
and six months from that day I had
paid every dollar of the borrowed
money, with interest, the total amoun'
being $987. All the other boys whp
were with me du-e that struggle fet
liberty are dead. I don't suppose t
will last much longer, but I thank Go
that I have lived for forty-six years
free man." New York 8un.
"Why do you Insist upon taking your
wife out for such long walks In this
rough wenther?"
"The doctor bus told her that she
must be very careful not to talk when
she is out In the cold air."
"Sny, wbo'a your doctor?" Cleve
land Leader.
NEW TARGETS FOR THE ARMY.
Old Bull's-Eyes to Give Way to Fig
ures of Men.
When the trained marksmen of the
Transvaal routed the regular troops of
Great Britain at Majuba Hill by shoot
ing with such marvelous skill as to
pick off the redcoats like so many deer
on a hill, a great outcry was heard in
British army circles against the folly
of teaching a soldier to shoot by plac
ing him opposite a target and telling
him to place a bullet as near to the
bull's-eye as possible.
The United States Army officers have
just come to the same conclusion as
did the British after the disaster of
Majuba Hill. As a consequence of this
awakening there will shortly be issued
a set of targets to be used at the va
rious rifle ranges that will revolutionize
the old system of training soldiers to
become marksmen. Instead of the
bull's-eye in the center of a square tar
get, the object to be aimed at will be
a black mark representing, as nearly
as possible, the figure of a man as it
appears when he lies prone on the
ground, rifle presented, in the act of
taking aim.
A second target will show the fig
ure of a man taking aim while In a
kneeling position. The figure is
mounted on a square background of
white, and is carefully drawn to meas
urements so as to present a mark as
nearly as possible like that at which
the soldier would have to shoot were
he fighting for his life In actual con
flict. This figure will be used as a tar
get at medium distances, from five to
six hundred yards.
Still another target represents the
full figure of a man standing and fir
ing. This is for long distance practice
and will enable a marksman to see ex
actly the effect produced by his skill
In firing. Every shot that hits the fig
ure would kill or maim were the target
a living mark.
The largest target of all, and the one
therefore, that will be used at extreme
range, Is intended to represent the fig
ure of a mounted man. This is more
particularly designed for carbine prac
tice by cavalrymen. The troopers will
be taught to shoot at the target from
horseback as well as dismounted, and,
as in the case of the standing man tar
get, will be Instructed to aim at the
centre of the mass, the idea being that
killing the horse of a cavalryman does
no less damage to the fighting effec
tiveness of an enemy's force than
shooting the rider.
A project of introducing moving tar
gets based on the same system as that
described above is being considered
by the military authorities. New York
Herald.
JUSTICE IN ALASKA.
Takes a Witness a Whole Year to
Attend Court.
A cry for Justice comes to Congress
from Alaska, says the New York Sun.
Away up in the Yukon Valley is a
place called Circle City, where there is
a population of 5,000 loyal citizens of
the United States. Sitka, the capital of
Alaska, where the federal court is
held, is so remote that the people In
and about Circle City can not go so
far to obtain judicial assistance or pro
tection; and they want Congress to
give them a court in their own region.
In a letter addressed to the Governor
of Alaska, by Mr. George W. Morgan,
who describes himself as the chair
man of the grand Jury at Circle City,
the writer says that "it would take one
year for a witness to leave here and
attend court in Sitka, thereby causing
not only a great loss of time, but great
expense to himself, as he would not be
able to return here until the next
year." It appears from a petition ac
companying this letter that the grand
Jury of which Mr. Morgan was chair
man was a select body of citizens ap
pointed at a meeting of the residents
of the mining district "to inquire into
the causes wheh led to a recent hom
icide in our midst," and that in fact
there Is no justice whatever there ex
cept wholly outside the law through
the agency of miners' meetings. This
Is an evil which ought promptly to be
remedied by congressional action.
A Costly Saddle.
The finest and most costly saddle In
America is owned In California, where
it was manufactured. It is owned and
was designed by Dixie W. Thompson,
a wealthy rancher of Ventura county,
whose home is in Santa Barbara. The
saddle is of typical Mexican pattern,
with a high pommel, well hollowed
seat, and the most elaborate trappings.
The work was done In Santa Barbara
under Mr. Thompson's supervision, and
is such as only the Spanish could pro
duce. The saddle Is of fine embossed
leather, set thick with silver buttons
and rosettes, the pommel Incased with
silver, the corners of the apron tipped
with It, the stirrups faced and edged
with silver half an inch thick, elabor
ately chased and carved. The saddle
tree Is hung with silver rings to answer
the vaquero's requirements. The girth
Is woven from horses' manes by na
tive artisans, and is full eight inches
broad. The reins, martingales, and
whips, are composed of solid silver In
woven strands. The bridle, reins, and
accessories, weighing about twelve
pounda, are worth about $250 in the
value of coin silver used. Each year
Mr. Thompson adda something to the
beauty and value of the saddle, and It
has already coat about $3,000.
The X rays are now used In the
yueen's kitchen. They are an Instant
and Infallible detective of stray fish
bones, plum stones and what not that
may accidentally get Into the royal
food. The ray lifts a great weight of
responslbllty fom the cook's mind.
HOWLING MACDONALOITES.
A New Sect Which Does Amazing
Things While Worshipping.
There Is a new rellglous'sect In the
University City, the members of which
style themselves MacDonaldltea. They
settled In Cambridge about a year ago,
but it Is only recently that they have
bad a settled place of worship. One
peculiar feature of the worship of the
MacDonaldltea Is the immense amount
of noise they always make in con
ducting services. The people in the
vicinity of the cnapel say the repre
sentatives of the new sect are so en
thusiastic in their demonstrations dur
ing the meetings that they make life
a burden to any one within hearing.
The regular meetings are held on
Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday even
ings, and the congregation as a whole
at each meeting works itself up to a
state of frenzy similar to the wild ex
citement of an old-fashioned Metho
dist camp meeting, but far more in
tense. There are perhaps 150 men,
women and children in the congrega
tion, entirely from the working class
of people. There is apparently no
pastor or other spiritual leader. After
a few worde of prayer or exhortation
the audience sings from a hymn book.
Soon the books are laid aside and by
a rapid process of evolution the mu
sical notes become howls, shrieks and
groans, as if from souls in mortal dis
tress. The movements of the bodies
are unnatural anu physically distress
ing. The face is distorted, the lower
limbs drawn up, and the head thrown
back. Men and women rise from their
seats and sway their bodies to and fro
as they emit ear-piercing yells. Grad
ually the muscles stiffen and the eyes
become set until the enthusiast seems
to be in a trance. After this condition
has continued for an hour or so the
worshippers suddenly seem to recover
their normal selves and the meeting
comes to an abrupt close.
The members of this strange sect are
good citizens. They are not disposed
to be talkative about their religion.
New York Sun.
HIS MEMORY BLOTTED OUT .
Pastor Hanna Learning Again to
Read and Write.
A corresimiident to the New York
Sun writes:
The queerest case of amnesia ever
known In Connecticut exists in Plants
ville, a village of 500 inhabitants,
aoout twenty miles from Hartford on
the Northampton branch of the Con
Holidated Road. The Rev. T. C. Han
na. pastor of the Plautsville Baptist
Church, Is the sufferer. On April 17
Mr. Hanna stopped his horse to ad
just a stray of bis harness. This act
cost him his education. As he at
tempted to jump from his carriage his
feet caught in the carriage robe; he
was thrown headlong to the ground
and knocked unconscious. He was
found and taken home by friends, but
his mind was gone, and when con
sciousness returned his memory was a
blank. Ills parents stood by his bed
when, an hour after the accident, he
moved ngaiu and mumbled something
Inarticulate, but he did not know
them; he did not. even know the mean
ing of the words "father" and "moth
er." He could not speak a word of
any language, and the task of teaching
him to talk, walk, and act was begun
all over ngaiu.
The relations of his family were ex
plained to him, and he was taught to
read, write, and even eat His loss of
vocabulary was easily overcome, as he
remeniliered, with wonderful mental
tenacity, the meanings of the longest
words as soon as they were explained
to him. As the child, before he be
gins to go to school, picks out famil
iar words on household subjects, Mr.
Hanua began to learn language and
words from a Scripture roll that his
father hung up over his bed. Every
bit of the Bible that he had learned
had slipped from bis memory, but he
has memorized much since the acci
dent, although he cannot yet read the
Bible understanding. He does a lit
tle light reading, mostly of simple
story books.
Mr. Hanna was a vigorous athlete,
but he has forgotten bow to play base
ball and also how to ride the bicycle.
His friends taught him how to mount
his wheel, how to dismount and how
to control It as they would a young
ster three or four years old. He was
an ndept tj-iowriter, and copied all
his sermons, but be has forgotten all
knowledge of the machine and is now
learning' the keys again. He has, bow
ever, found this hard work, and is de
voting most of bis time to making
scrip letters with the pen.
His second childhood has a romantic
side. Mr. Hanna has shown for sev
eral years a marked preference for a
young woman of the village, but when
he met her after his accident be did
not know her. He was Introduced to
her, and friendship Ix'tween the two
has again developed. All his friends
are being introduced to him again. He
greets them warmly, learns of tbelr
former association with him with in
terest, and Invariably remembers the
right names, although a dozen friends
come at a time to meet him. Ills
memory In this reaped has been re
markable since his accident.
Mr. Hanna has just been In New
York to consult a specialist. It was
feared that be would be frightened by
the locomotives, but he regarded rheni
merely with Interest. The excitement
of his trip to New York did not act up
ou lil m favorably, uud he will probab
ly be treated at his home till his re
covery Is more complete. There Is no
fracture, and the prevailing opinion Is
that he struck on his head, pressing
the cerebral cellular tissues together.
He has never felt any pain. All the
phyidclnns believe that Mr. Hanna
will regain his mental strength as
years go by, but they doubt that be
will ever have memory of Incidents
that occurred before bis Injury.
, ONYX IN KENTUCKY.
Valuable Beds of this Stone Dis
covered. It has been discovered that there are
In the State of Kentucky the richest
and most extensive beds of onyx ever
known to exist Their value la bil
lions of dollar. As soon aa the work
Ing thereof la begun thousands of per
sons will be given employment
An idea of the richness of these beds
may be gained from the fact that in
one tract alone 300,000 cubic feet of
onyx that is unsurpassed In texture if
visible. The color of the stone variee
greatly and in shades hitherto un
known. The average value of onyx
ranges from $3 to $15 a cubic foot, and
as this onyx is of the superlative de
gree a child can see its immense value.
Up to the present time onyx beds
have been known to exist in Arizona,
Arkansas and Virginia. In Arizona,
where the richest beds are located, they
were a considerable distance from the
railroad, making the securing of the
onyx an expensive matter. The Ken
tucky beds are easily accessible, and it
is an actual fact that it will be possi
ble to land the onyx in New York City
for a sum less per cubic foot than the
duty on onyx is to-day. Wondrous
tales of what the onyx beds in Old
Mexico formerly yielded have been
told.
It was calculated that from the Pe
drara quarry, in Mexico, which cover
ed three or four acres of ground, more
than fifty million dollars' worth of
onyx had been taken previous to 1892,
when the beds were exhausted. The
onyx exported from Mexico is com
paratively small in amount and the
duty is so great that it makes it ex
ceedingly high priced. It may easily be
seen that the prospects of the Ken
tucky beds are marvellous.
The onyx fields of Kentucky lie
about eighty miles south of Louisville.
It is from twenty to twenty-five
miles in length, and from twelve to fif
teen miles in width.
This great field, practically un
known as yet, is certainly a most im
portant one. It covers a most extend
ed area and contains a large number of
most promising deposits. That the
stone is in vast quantities is without
question. It may be quarried in blocks
as large as can possibly be handled,
and from those slabs, blocks or col
umns may be made as large as may be
desired for any purpose.
The colors of the stone are varied,
intense and unique. In texture it is
fine, firm and compact. No clay con
cretions occur in it, and it is remarka
bly fine from the small interstices in
cident to imperfect cryctallization
called "sand-holes," so common in fine
marbles and other crystalline rocks.
St. Louis Star.
Afraid of an Explosion.
A well-known United Presbyterian
minister of this city is telling a story
on himself which is creating laughter
among his friends. He is of large and
generous proportions, and his rotund
ity is only equaled by his cheery
countenance and genial disposition,
so he tells the story with a good grace.
Some time ago he was asked to make
a Sunday trip down to the Dixmont
Insane Asylum, and preach a sermon
to some of the milder patients of the
Institution. He agreed to do so and
some weeks later found him fulfilling
his contract. He was expounding one
of his best discourses and was trying
to make it as impressive to his hear
ers as possible. The closest attention
was being paid, and two men in the
front seat, he noticed, were especially
engaged in observing his every word
and action. The reverend doctor waa
working up to one of the effective cli
maxes for which he is famous. Both
his arms were being used for frequent
gestures, his naturally florid face was
reddening from a strong flow of words,
and his whole form seemed to swell
with the force of his argument. The
men on the front seat began to get
nervous. Suddenly one of them arose
and tapped his companion on the
shoulder. His eyes seemed starting
from the sockets, and as he made for
the door he yelled: "Run, Jimmy,
run! He's going to bust!" Pittsburg
Chronicle-Telegraph.
One of the greatest mysteries to sci
entists, one for which there seems to
be no reasonable explanation, is that
concerning the migration of the lem
ming, or Norway rat. Instead of tak
ing place once a year, these migra
tions occur only once iu every eleven
years. When the time comes for the
exodus, the little animals journey west
ward from Scandinavia, allowing jnotb
Ing to stop their movements, which
virtually amount to a headlong flight.
They swim the lakes and livers and
climb the highest mountains lu lucal
cu able numbers, devastating the whole
country through which they puss.
I'lttsburg Dispatch.
A large audience once gathered In
Paltimore to hear the late Professor
Sylvester read a unlue original poem
of 4(10 lines, all rhyming with one
name Rosalind, lie had appended to
the poem a large number of explana
tory footnotes, which he said he would
read first. When at last he bnd done
no he looked up at the clock, and was
horrified to find that be bad kept the
audience an hour and a half before be
ginning to read the poem they bad
come to bear. The astonishment on bla
face was answered by a burst of good
humored laughter from the audience,
nnd then, after begging all his bearers
to feel at perfect liberty to leave If
they had engagements, he read the
Rosalind poem. New York Tribune.
-
Riley Sham i on yez" Terence Duffy,
an' your wife only burled yesterday.
Duffy Dlffern'nt people have dlf
fer'nt waya of ahowln' their grief (ble)
thlih Ish my way I TruUi.