TALM ACE'S SERMON
L>n* vatic art the subject
EAST SUNDAY.
fw Tm i. a. ttE at —
Y *•* * «• YN*» » mH4 »• %ot
a*.
Sot l»« N»!
"IB* * I** S| lAiJt Sl.»|*r*l 1
***» toss I* 1 i«r«USHM U.. :L
"Tfcrf (Sal Bif ttkU *utiU M no*.
HL"
Ml imoa ter iMIa 4.*>
*mmmf u sites 1 E*«r ««-• k.u4I> .a
«Hr4 Sf too «4 tkf Steal u««»{u
I»*p» of Iks* € OOBtrf MI i 11 MU4 *t»
Btot «• «»« «tf I Sr popular |U)l U
SA* 4*:| • 14* £w SOOte *r« tkM ***» t«
«•* «m- tW 4r»ate Quo V«4u
mSl. ar It ar.iS rsopw t to it* Bio
*Ai Hinrt «M So Cv to Nr« York *S4
•or tU Aroflte Itei Httf moi vriU
wn optasaa of It (Mr posts u*r. la
ptop* «r tear tk» 1 prupuor m a aer
■*** lo 4f u*» m Sat «# sSail 4o a its
■te 4ra«te(s «~k«arat »Sk-* Gte teas
•I"4**to# »• aua« of uar aatare*. aot
t« I# or Ml «r 1JB, Sot ta tbr vac*
aiajori'i of tSr imtut rare Sootr pro
plr eprsS of t.Se <ir*au as tbuu*b ft
-
Ml Wmmm Up Of
memattam fcf tk* CuAcmru *bJ tbr
C- ic»autha and tk* «* in.
Cfe* of iJmtiirr *al Uu!
»k*» *» attorn# our taafr* to orr#
afl. TW Ini is act «rac tram ib*
tarhmtg hkiek Cod it** implxn #4 *a
me immortal cools it ia arm »r*t to
'U 4w«(k rttrit iSwotr the «fell4 ret
tfcror or four >rar» of ««- r'jrm; atti
lira dMl* and Ik**ir < r«o.*» att< their
• ar ». —Ii i«« ***t» *fi«r j* tk* >!**•
im mt ocoad. tee fear* after a
parlor iluralM. allot »ha! tu tb#
rilin'^ ta »fce *ra<ir
wum of ■•»;< Tkeapu a ad hr** k> -
m *ad i**»p3 i«« ami Keriptdr-* a»er«*
*> dram*iumHI aka! ai .a tk* Gre-k
k^art Tnmr ui ati Set
•rm aurtaif dramrUaMl wkfl* *i» i»
the H >mae heart. (i«r »• sad fir*
%«kar if-r*4jr 4 *mat:*rd a&*t «*•
im tk* Cttfli«h heart it* .ae Cor
mill* itul iltni oaljr dramatised aha...
«m ah tkr Ft*** ti *«d Italian trail
*k*k*»|ar*rr ubif dreamt tx-d »ka*
mam a tkr tn?t mmi**» brart TV
Istirnkf «»4 < latar drama, ’b"
omtmm-mtMl drama tfer romantic
4i».mjt am awirrfp r kora of tk*- Ui
ntah aemt
1 do hot #iasah of the drama ah tfc
pmtlkr ihilf nor of tk** 4. air a ia the
plaflMMthr. hot I *>f|i*rak mt the dlathat:
final 1 >o*r *wa4 and mm w>
man* ht*a !• *iut »t*f
far lb* ar*«ir .; impUtu-t .ae God
did tlai mark, and I »ifpoo he kn*-»
afcat k*r •»« a boat • ora he made a*
We ore novr'f ail m «*4 by lU »p*> -
V «U*I *V» ah rbJkUj lint dsy
m* tonurat* our <i«n or* a it* Tar cot
lam and tk* rue and Ikr apples and
ike okrat and the rf* and Tk*' oat*
tar ficti'tdr to Cud -* at rrej V\ h-n
odJrr# of kohor* fkr .tut *r;**iua. "Hr
!- K;r« * *r *m*> i.on* . * aUfiet
Rmy pat*ht like* to #o to tk* arhmri
• ihIMUm * Tk it* rariUlkai aed It*
• ‘tV't**1* and ita diotl (*c*a*i. Tfc**
.art hLdkl prorocaMm mt tk* political
ramp**** is erd' the Ji am*'sea son
<4 pert** ipW .a»i4«r4 N« »at*a.tntt
man can look ta aa* *#• *Ur or rHIfl
mm direction oithwet fiad-ac »hi*
drama*u #i#m-ts? * »e*;m* ar^l.ai
rttiSf :t**ff Waal thatl me
• rtk k
airhUoa* JCot a*
oith it*
t»fc*il •• •ctpprw#* tt 1cm eaa ••
#•»::) *iipprr** it* ('itaior. Ye* buy
4»«l M. |M m*y «4ar«t« A rvit bu)
pmrdf it. ye* our larem it to multi
potest oa*f^o**a. aed tkil tt ia your
teijr to da J«a* a» «*> • altn at* !to
loot* for lb* Want if *1 t»4 it* »ubi.m
If but br«»l«i fkc sol ;ut»«rr.B(
tiurnli let t*t»t :b up
fwi* attd tto
day Irftteg it* mb*'! of victory ia tto
rwf aad (bra r»«rytktag ua
tr* m it rrtr^as.® !fe;o«gfc tor gar*
<4 tto ee*t a*4 tlxr ,%!••■('-n.fi «ad M i
»S Jbegtua ft»us '-n.to'ai !»—
fbr;r fcatterlr* to to a »«itr; after
(M retted fliitma* tear jf
• actU »et oa tie «fc*efc -4 tto aigkt
—a* la (bb way »«• raluuo ear • a*ie
tar tto «*t *otH.:a*e. *o :a
- r«i may •» an to caturate
tb» traattw elra**at ia ear nature
if* every »te * at« passage ia Liter*: ur*\
fcy eatilkeam aad tr*t*.*.t bj every
• rag.- y aunty- la kitaiaa Ufe.
Xum 1 have to tell >eo ae* oaly tto*
G«4 bat implaaied tk>» dramatir eie
«ar*S ia ear **(»'**. bat I kat* to
«e?l yea ia Ik* fcrlyOTW* ke retaliate*
at. ke appeals to H. ke develop* tt j
4e aet car# a tore yea to* tkr iiiuir
jrtar eye a ill (att apea a drama Hr >
a a to ike kook of Jad*t*»„ Ike flr tree,
"ke tia* . *to oil** ire*, tke bramble -
tkey aK atake apm-ftoe Tima at tto
(tow of *to area* iket* t* a retautiot.
*to tto kratokle la prerlaitov* kkas
Tt»t I* a paditieal drama Here k »
•to wto of to V.u'-r Kiiptox
Zoybaf El ike aad Jo* Tto
a t "€ tto drama ail d»i,
i ».bC art of tto drama all
ye asm.!*. *fl dram- .* tke
Fifty etaaeya *lr*i tto nerroa* of tke
ear ceafttf aot a**» t me as a little
**• .prof aad *uker;ag I MW
Bd rn tto street* of
fkitod* ipkda Jato atoad af am «a* a
kla liati am
at tto fee** from tto pallor
«f tto key's rkaafc. tto *a.patatbue mi
He tod a package of bro
M arm-food to tod
1 awppee*. at tto doors. A* to
to iftfprr> patnmrai
• arvdaily. I steadier
rvUk ad.pped aad to
| 1 bdpd torn ap a* well aa I
r*mid. gattorwd ap tke fragameta of
tto rn bap aa aeil aa I coaid. pat
tto cndra
Bat atoa I aav
tto ' toad raa doe a km pale rkaek I
Fifty eaaay* about
coald
i to ttot liti* dr*aaa of
Let pm aay ta all yooag miaiaters
•f ite RDaprl: KK fM hrvo this dn*
maL‘c « h merit in your nature, use *t
ter God and heaven. If you will ru
iiom* £nd look over the history of th*
j !: i;<h. you mill find that those raen
| l »ve brought more souls to Christ
who l..i\e iteen dramatic. Rowland
Mi l. drat mat! ; Thomas Chalmers,
•aman- . 1 bomas Guthrie, dramatic;
John Kd«i. dramatic; Robert Mc
! «’beyo# dramatic; Christmas Evans,
drama* Geo-ge \Y hi »cfi.dd. dr.i
watk-; Robert Hal*, dramatic; Robert
><Mth, dramatic; Bourdaloi. dramatic;
j Feneion dramatic; John Mason, dra
n a'.« When you Ret into the minis
try. If you attempt to cultivate that
clement and try to wield it for God,
*ou will meet with miRhty rebuff and
rarleauire. and ecclesiastical counsel
will take your case In charge, and
they will try to put you down. But th**
God who starts you will help you
through, and great will be the eternal
reward* for the assiduous and the
plucky.
V.'hu n« « . * - ••»*» -s>*
I Hen j * : sermons anil our ex
hortations aud our pt avers out of the
| <44 tut The aid hackneyed religion
phrnnru that come snoring down
through :be centuries will never arrest
the rna- -• * What we want today, you
in year sphere, and I in my sphere. U
to freshen up. People do not want in
• • „r t rui us the sham flowers bought
it the militnery 4hop. but thejaponleas
wet with the morning dew; not the
b- .tvjr burn** of extinct megatherium
i. the l \ mg reindeer
.ugl.t Last August at the edge of
SniouB lake We want to drive out
‘•cry. and the prosaic. and the
and tht? humdrum, and intro
» the brightness and the vivacity.
„od the holy sarcasm, and the sancti
fied wit. and the epigrammatic powe”.
nd the blood red earnestness, and th*
*:r* ai religious zeal and 1 do not know
«.f any way «f doing il as well as
through the dramatic.
B it n •» let us turn to the drama as
an amusement aru! entertainment.
};*■< l>r Bellows 4 NVw ^ork. many
* .ns ago. *n a very brillhint but mu.h
•m. ised sermon, took the position
i;u« the theater might be renovated
and made auxiliary t > t5w I iiurch.
M ty t*br;>t:an jteopie are of the same
•. t »n I do not agree with them
I bale no idea that success is in tha*
,;f ••. i ii What 1 have said heretofore
a tbi* * ibje. ? as far as I remember.
- my '•-aliment now. But today I
f,-k» a ?*• p in advance of my former
5 n rhristiauity is suing to take
' '• *»ion «.? this world and con
its laws. ;:■< literature.
> .ii* and its amusements. Shut
n <4 rnristianity
vth n« and you give it up to sin
ad death.
• Cht • • an > mighty enough to
• ...rag* everything but the amuse*
i ■ a *> of the w orld then It is a very
•»-«iive Christianity. Is It capable
. • j ; :nt of th fears of the
w rid and ncompeteiit to make record
. f r# o i.es'* Is ,t good to follow the
sr. ral. but dumb at the world's play?
Can it <ntrol all the other elemen's
<4 o ir nature but 'he dramatic ele
m nf* SIf idea of Christianity Is that
.r .to and will conquer everything. In
■..e go* i i.bip coming, which the world
a Is the golden age and the poet the
*->>- an age and the Christian the mil
- t.; aim. me have positive announce
ment that the amusements of the
w rid a:e to be tinder Christian sway.
•lines* ska the bells of
■ * horses.*' says one prophet. So.
r# it will control even the sleig.p
'.d** 'The city shill be full of boys
_r i g l» playing 4n the streets there
< f say* another ;>roph *t. So. you
*■ it > to control the hoop rolling
t. i the ki’e flying and the ball play*
ug Now. what we want is to hasten
tha* tune How will it be done? By
the . bur. h going over to the theater?
It m il not go. By the theater coming
to the church’ It will not come.
What we want is a refoimed amuse
a:* tit n' » .at.on in every ci'y and
■ *wn <». tiie t'nued States. Once an
no n- *« and explained and Illustrated.
• ('bri-tian and philanthiopic capi
tal.st will come forward to establish
and there will be public spirited
men everywhere who will do this work
for the dramatic element of our na
"ore* We need a new institution to
meet and recognize and develop and
* f nd the dramati element of our
r at .re it needs to be distinct from
-verytbtng that is or has been.
1 would have this reformed amuse
r: '.xi 'haring m charge this new in
- i* <t ion of the spec in* ular take pos
-• -sion of Mina hall or academy. It
Bi.gbt take a smaller building at the
start, but it would soon nee*t the larg
• *t hail, and even that would not hold
jeojee. for he who opens
•-fore the dramatic element In
human nature an opportunity
of gmtlftration without com
protn - and without danger does the
.:i.c atte** rhtng of this century, and
the tides of such an institution would
* a* *b* Atlantic rises at Liverpool
do* ha
I would go to such an institution.
*« a a tj ular. 1 should go once
• wuefc the rest of my life and tak?
tx:» family m ith m*. and the majority
f the families of the earth would go
to »u< h an nstttutiou. I expect the
■ thme win ran whew I can. without
ringing upon myself criticism, with
out being an inconsistent Christian,
when I a minister of the good old
Pre* > vrtan bur< h. w ill be able ‘o
go to some new institution like this,
the sp* cfartiiar and see • Hamlet*' and
King Lear" and the Merchant of
Venire," and the Hunchback ' and
Joshua Whitcomb." Meanwhile many
uf us will have this dramatic element
unmet and uwxegalad
For my lo%e of pt tures I can go to
the art gallery, for my love of music
I can go to the concert, for my love or
literature I ran go to the lyceum lec
ture. but for this dramatic element in
my nature, as strong as any other pas
sion of the soul th**re is nothing but
: a junction and prohibition. Until, sirs,
you ran establish a spectacular or a
similar institution, with as much pu
rity and with as much entertainment
as this one of which 1 speak—until
you can establish some such institu
tion you may thunder away again3t
evil amusements until the last minute
of the last hour of the last day of the
world’s existence, and without avail.
We want this Institution independent
of the church and independent of the
I theater. The church tries to compro
mise this matter, and in many
’ churches tip re are dramatic exhibi
tlons. Sometimes they call them cha
rades, sometimes tiey cai! them magic
lantern exhibitions — entertainments
for which you pay fifty cents, the fifty
cents to go to the support of some
charitable institution. An extempo
rized stage is put up in the church or
in the lecture room and there you go
and see Daviu and the giant and Jo
seph sold into Egypt and the little
Samuel awoke, the chief difference be
tween the exhibition in the church
and the exhibition in the theater be
ing that the exhibition in the theatei
is more skillful.
Now let us have a new institution,
with expurgated drama and with the
purroindiugs 1 have spoken of—an
institution which we can without so
phistry and without self deception
so uncompromisingly good that we
support and patronize—an institution
can attend it without any shock to our
religious sensibilities, though the Sab
bath before we sat at the holy sacra
Hit'll l.
The amusements of life are beautiful
and they are valuable, but they can
not pay you for the loss of your soul.
I could not tell your character, I could
not tell your prospects for this world
or the next by the particular church
you attend, but if you will tell me
where you were last night, and where
you were the night before and where
you have been the nights of the last
month. I think I can guess where you
will spend eternity.
As to the drama of your life and
mine, it will soon end. There will be
no encore to bring us back. At the
beginning of that drama of life stood
a c radle, at the end of it will stand a
grave. The first act, welcome. The
ias- act, farewell. The intermediate
acts, banquet and battle, processions
bridal and funeral, songs and tears,
laughter and groans.
It was not original with Shakespeare
when he said, “All the world s a stage
and all the men and women merely
players.” He got it from St. Paul, who
fifteen centuries before that had writ
ten, ”\Ve are made a spectacle unto j
the world and to angels and to men.” i
A spectacle in a coliseum fighting with ;
wild beasts in an amphitheater, the
galleries full, looking down. Here we
destroy a lion. Here we grapple with
a gladiator. When we fall, devils
^hout. When we rise, angels sing. A
spectacle before gallery above gallery. >
gallery above gallery. Gallery of our i
departed kindred, looking down to see
if we are faithful and worthy of our
Christian ancestry, hoping for our vic
tory. wanting to throw us a garland,
glorified children and parents, with j
cheer and cheer urging us on. Gal- !
lery of the martyrs looking down—
the Polycarps and the Ridleys and the j
McKails and the Theban legion and
the Scotch Covenanters and they of
the Brussels market place and of Pied
mont—crying down from the galleries.
“God gave us the victory, and he will
give it you.” Gallery of angels look
ing down cherubic, seraphic, arch
angelic—clapping their wings at every
advantage we gain. Gallery of the j
King from which there waves a
scarred hand and from which there
comes a sympathetic voice saying.
‘ Be thou faithful unto death, and I
will give tfcee a crown of life.” Oh. th6
spectacle in which you and I are the
actors! Oh. the piled up galleries look
ing down!
Scene: The last day. Stage: The
rocking earih. Knter: Dukes, lords,
kings, beggars, clowns. No sword.
No tinsel. No crown. For footlights:
The kindling flames of a world. For
orchestra: The trumpets that waka
the dead. For applause: The clapping
floods of the sea. For curtain: The
heavens rolled together as a scroll.
For tragedy: “The Doom of the
Profligate.’ For the last scene cf the
fifth act: The tramp of nations acrosi
the stage, some to the right, others to
the left. Then the bell of the last thun
der will ring, and the curtain will
drop!
ECC-EATING SNAKE
Swalluws m larger thmi JUrlf
hut Work* Hard.
Now. how does it manage to get
down its throat such a thing as a
duck's egg, not only so much larger
than itself, but also hard and perfect
ly smooth? We know that a common
snake is aided in swallowing a toad
by its hook-like teeth, which hold the
prey while the upper and lower jaws
glide over it alternately and thus push
it backward. Lizards, boas, the Het
erodon of Madagascar, etc., are said
to plac e the egg—of a canary or other
email birJ, that is—against an irreg
ularity of the ground or within one
of their own folds, which enables them
to ram it into their months. In the
case of our ,,dasypeltis” and its duck’s
eggs, however, these explanations do
not suffi e. this genius being destitute
of true teeth. We can, therefore, only
suppose that a couple of membranous
folds, which have been discovered, one
on ea< h side of its mouth, lay hold of
the shell like cupping glasses, and
thus work it into the throat. But here
we meet with another difficulty. After
the egg has passed between the pro
digiously distended jaws and upper
esophagus. It would seem as if its bulk
and solidity, when lodged in a compar
atively inelastic part of the digestive
tube, whose juices are unable to dis
solve the shell, must quickly prove
fatal to the animal. A remarkable in
stance of natural adaptation is afford
ed by the manner in which this clanger
is provided against. The anodon. as
already observed, has no true teeth.
So-called gular teeth, however, are
present, these being really the tips of
the long interor spines of the first
eight or nine vertebrae, protruding
through the esophagus wall. When
the shell is broken by the gular teeth
it is ejected and the fluid passes into
the stomach.—Cincinnati Enquirer.
The New Color.
The new color in Paris is zinc. Its
possibilities as a background were dis
covered by a French artist, who posed
many of his models against a zinc
screen, the color tending to bring out
the most beautiful tones in his model's
complexion and hair. Cloth in this
shade is especially beautiful, and will
give tone to even sallow complexions,
it is promised.
Domrftlc Trouble*.
Mistress—"Why did you get steak
for breakfast, when I told you to ordei
pork chops?” New Cook—“Shure,
ma’am, 01 niver eat pork at all, at all.”
BY EITHER NAME
“We have been corresponding for
two years, but we have never seen each
other,” said Alice. “It began in fun
while we were at school. Mary was
writing to her cousin and put in her
letter a joking remark that I had made.
Then Jack sent me a message. Prett*
soon the messages back and forth gre;r
so numerous that Mary,told Jack to
write to me himself. He did so. and —
well—I answered the letter.”
“Do you think that he will know you
when he sees you?” inquired Kate.
“I should think so.”
“But. Alice, we are so much alike in
some things—we are both blond and
tall; we both have blue eyes, although
you say mine are darker; and we are
exactly the same age to a month. I'll
wager that dear little turtle hatpin
that we saw the other day that he
won’t know which is which until he is
told.”
Done, said Alice. “Let s each of us
pretend to be the other and see how
long it will take him to find us out.”
"But Mary will tell.”
“No, she won't. She will come to
meet us by herself probably, and that
will give us a good chance to talk it
over with her, and she will enjov the
joke.”
So it was agreed that Kate Raymond
was to pass for Alice Strong as long
as she could, and that Alice was to
play the role of Kate. Before long the
train drew up at a wayside station and
the two girls who were traveling to
gether with a view to visiting a former
schoolmate, gathered up their belong
ings and alighted from the car. As
Alice had foreseen. Mary Townsend
had come along to meet them. She
greeted them rapturously, and the
three excited girls piled into a wide,
old-fashioned buggy, Mary taking the
reins. As they were jogging comfort
ably along the road behind the fat
and lazy steed Alice unfolded the pro
posed joke.
At the door of her hospitable home
Mrs. Townsend welcomed the guests,
who were introduced to her under their
assumed names as well as their real
ones. The joke was explained to her
and she was pledged to secrecy. Jack
drove over that evening. Alice played
her part with easy cleverness. Kate
had a harder time of it. for Jack had
asked her innumerable questions about
persons and things of which she knew
nothing. Yet she managed to keep up
her character. To the conspirator's
astonishment and to Kate's dismay the
little game did not come to an end for
many days. Jack was almost equally
attentive to “Miss Raymond" and to
“Miss Strong.” but the make-believe
“Miss Strong” felt that he liked to be
with her more than with her friend.
Alice was naturally gay and daring,
while Kate was rather sedate. Having
been introduced to the entire neigh
borhood as “Miss Raymond.” she was
having a good time in her own way,
r——-1
which was hardly Kate's. This caused
Kate much uneasiness. Little things
that were really no harm in them
selves, but which looked like moun
tains of impropriety to Kate, were be
ing done by Alice in Kate's name with
the utmost sang-froid. Alice would not
consent to end the play and she would
act her part in her own way.
The climax came the day before their
visit ended. Kate was sitting alone in
the parlor, a rare thing, for the girls
were almost always together, when
Jack entered. His face brightened
v,hen he saw that she was alone and
he came forward eagerly. Before Kate
could stop him she had received a
proposal of marriage.
“But it’s not I—that Is. It is I—but
you don’t know me,” stammered the
girl in confusion.
“Yes I do, and I love you dearly,” de
clared Jack.
‘No, you don’t. I am Kate, not Alice.
O, dear, I ought not to have heard this.
Wait, go ’way—you can see her when
she comes down.”
‘But it’s you 1 want to see. not—”
“O, no,” interrupted Kate. "We are
playing a joke, each pretending to be
the other. O, why did we ever do it!”
“Darling.” said Jack calmly, "I saw
through the game all along. Don’t you
suppose I knew Miss Strong the mo
ment that I laid eyes on her? Or. at
least I did after two minutes’ talk with
her. You may look alike, but your na
tures are as different as possible. It
is the make-believe Alice Strong that
I love—the real Kate Raymond.”
“But what will Alice say?” faltereJ
Kate..
“She has been engaged for over a
year to my college chum. Walters. He
told me, she didn't. Don't let's talk
about her. Do you love me, Kate?
Will you have me?”
“Yes.”—Chicago Tribune.
A Juror’* Appeal to a Jo cl re.
A Billville citizen, says the Atlanta
Constitution, who happened to get on
a locked-up jury addressed the follow
ing note to the judge: “We. the jury,
bein hongry. an locked up eight hours
without eatin, w hich has been our reg
ular habit sence we knowed ourselves,
respectfully find ourselves guilty of
wantin to eat, an recommend that our
sentence of imprisonment be com
muted to the liberty of 12 square
meals, athrowin of ourselves on the
mercy o the court fer them same, after
which we hope to find the defendant
guilty.” _
Uad Pencil* of Old.
Ancient writers mention the use of
lead and graphite for ruling papyrus,
and pencils fashioned rather crudely in
the manner of those now in use were
made in the sixteenth century, the
graphite coming from the Borrowdale
mlAt at Cumberland, England.
SEASON OF REST,
Z>nt It a Thr:t> for Gaining Flesh and
r.caaiy.
Tent, in the eyes of the society girl,
isn't only a time for fasting and pray
er. but it is a very important period
of semi-rest, during which the rav
ages wrought in face and form by the
dissipations of the season may be re
paired so that Easter will find her
fresh and lovely again. Candy is en
tirely tabooed during this period. The
money that she herself would spend for
the sweets goes—well, it may go to
the heathen or it may not; there’s no
use assuming that it’s put aside to buy
a parasol next summer, unless it really
is. Percival’s instructions on this point
are very explicit—violets, and nothing
else, will be graciously received dur
ing the penitential season, their pur
ple chimes in so well with the general
somber color scheme that it doesn't
seem out of place to spend money for
them. But candy is not the only thing j
abjured for the sake of abstinence and
complexion. All sweets are given up.
plain food and little of it eaten, and
hot water in copious quantities takes
the place of chocolate between meals,
or other drinks which may have a de
leterious effect on the roses and lilies
of the skin. Even now the hours kept
are not particularly early ones, but
there’s much more time to rest during
the day—all the afternoon, in fact, un
til it is time for the 3 o’clock service,
whither the maid goes wearing a
dreamy look and where she assumes a
prayerful pose that makes the men in
the back pews wonder if this is indeed
the butterfly girl who has seemed so
frivolous all winter. Rest is the great
est of beautifiers. and to tell the truth,
milady is something too tired-looking
now to be at her best, but she’ll be
fresh enough by Easter, with her diet
ing. her naps during the day. her long
walks and the gymnastic exercises with
which she rounds her arms and covers
the harsh outlines of her angles with
soft, curving, firm flesh. Indeed, if she
adheres to the strict rules she has set
to follow, she’ll look like a lily herself
before the 15th of April rolls around;
a particularly healthy and attractive
lily, too; but will she keep the rules,
that's the question?—Baltimore News.
PAPA FROG AND THE TADPOLES
His < liil«lr*-n Cline to HU Knrk Till
They Are lile Cnongli to I.euve.
A male frog with little tapoles liv
ing on his back was discovered lately
by Dr. August Brauer of Marburg, Ger
many. For a little fellow it has a
pretty long name, but perhaps its pa
j ternal devotion has earned it the long
Latin name, arthroleptis seyebellensis
boettger. It has been noticed before
that in some species of frogs living in
Venezuela and the island of Trinidad
the male bears the voting on its back,
to which they hold by their mouths.
But this new species is the first one
on which so many as nine little ones
were discovered, and besides they do
not hold on by their mouths, but seem
to be stuck to the papa frog's back and
sides by some gummy substance which
holds them in place until they are
large enough to care for themselves.
It is a wonderful device of nature, that
the female sometimes deposits her
eggs on the back of th° male, where
they hatch out. and the little tadpoles
grow until they attain a certain size.
Such is, of course, not the case with
our common frogs, but in these rare
species only lately found by natural
ists is a strange reversal of what seems
to us to he the usual law that the
mother takes care of the young. In
this species the eggs are not laid on
the back of the male, but on the
ground, and only aftar they are
hatched do they take up their position
on papa's hack. And there they ride
until they are big enough to walk
around and look for their own food.
The Australian Rabbit Pent.
Eva Gordon, a school girl, daughter
of the chief inspector of stock of
Queensland, in writing to some Kan
sas school children from Brisbane, the
capital of that country, has this to say
of the rabbit pest of Queensland:
“About twenty or thirty years ago two
or three pairs of rabbits were imported
into Queensland. Now they go about
in millions, eating as they go. and leav
ing the ground without a blade of
grass. In this country they also climb
trees and eat the bark, so that there is
no vegetation at all left for the sheep
and cattle where the rabbits hare been.
The squatters must have wire-netting
fences all around their ‘runs;’ that is
what you would call ranches. Men have
also been sent out by the government
to poison rabbits, and hundreds of dead
ones are to be seen often on a small
area. The rabbits burrow in the ground,
so the fences have to be put sufficient
ly under the ground to prevent their
getting underneath.”—Kansas City
Journal.
The .lap’* Regard for the Fox.
All over Japan you will see images
cf foxes—old foxes, with their noses
chipped and their ears broken oft';
older foxes stili. with a growth of
moss on their backs; sly. alert, foxes,
with noses perked smartly in the air;
great foxes and little foxes, sages and
clowns, all kinds and degrees—show
ing the prevalence of this belief in
the land of the wistaria and the far.
and also showing in what respect the
fox is held, says a traveler. It is curi
ous to note that in all countries the
fox above all other animals has been
considered to exert great influence and
power. All nations have legends of
which the cunning and intelligence of
the fox is the theme.
A Qo*«r Nam*.
There is a woman s outing club \ p
in Maine, composed of a dozen Poit
land feminines that glories ia a narao
which has proved a puzzle to pto
nounce and an equal puzzle as to me«u
ing. For ten years these women hare
preserved their secret, but it has Just
leaked out that Rammejheckt. the club
name, is composed of the first letter of
the Christian name of each of the
members.
Many Millions In C*«*»*terla«.
The cemeteries around lxindon cover
2,000 acres, and the land they occupy
represents a capital of % 100,000.000.
A HONEY ELDORADO.'
TONS OF SWEETNESS IN THE
DEVIL’S RIVER COUNTRY.
There Are Million* in It for the Man
Who Will Kstract ami Ship Thin
Iloney—It Is an Almost Inaccessible :
Spot- _
Nowhere in the world, it is safe to
say. does honey abound in such quan
tities as in the brakes of Devil’s river
in Texas. This region might well be
called the "Honey Eldorado.” In it the
fruit of the hive may be found by the
ton. It is everywhere; in clefts in
the racks, in hollow trees, in caves and
in the famous “Devil’s Punch Bowl.”
a great sink in the Devil valley out of
which bees swarm always in clouds
so thick that at a distance of two or
three miles it has the appearance of a
great signal smoke. The hills and val
ley land along the river ave covered
for a great part of the year with an ;
endless variety of flowers and in the
winter season, which u never cold
enough to freeze the bees, there is an
ammaance or decaying mm—
apples and berries of many kinds so
that they never have to stop working
on account of lack of material or bad
weather, and thus go on piling up their
wealth throughout the whole year. The ;
honey is of excellent quality, of good
flavor and color and brings as good a j
price when brought to market as that j
made by tame bees. For the man who
will gathe.- up this honey and get it
to market there are great riches in
store. The business of gathering the
honey, however, is not followed very
extensively, for the reason that the
work of the honey hunter is not very
pleasant and is full of danger. The j
country is so rough that it is impos- j
sible to get anywhere near the honey j
caves except one goes on foot, packing
his camp equipage on his back or on a
burro; water is not overplentiful and
much of that to be found is unfit for
use. Sometimes the caves are in such
inaccesible places that the hunter has •
to let himself down the face of the i
cliff for two or three hundred feet and
hang there at the end of his rope while
the bees sting him half to death, while
he digs out a few pounds of honey; or,
again, he may find a cave easy to rob (
only to find that he must carry the '
spoil several miles cn his back before
he can get it to a place where he can
load it upon his burros.
The distance from the honey dis- \
tricts to Del Rio, the nearest place, is j
125 miles, and it takes about twenty
days to go to the districts and return
with a jag of honey. The most that
the hunter can hope to bring is 1.000
pounds, which will yield a profit of
about $150. so that with the present
limited facilities the industry is not
very profitable. There are bright pros
pects. however, for the honey business
in the region in the future. The
“Devil’s Punch Bowl.” where the honey
is thickest, is a very remarkable place, j
It is a hole forty feet in diameter. ,
yawning open in the middle of a wide
valley, with a perfect torrent of bees
rushing up from it like dirt blown
from some mighty blast and all -the
while a roaring loml as that of a great
cataract; looking down into the abyss. ,
fer the hole widens immediately below
the surface, may be seen the festoons
of honey hanging there which the bees
had strung along the sides of their
mammoth hive after they had filled the
hidden grottoes. All about the sides ,
of the place there are lines of combs
built many years ago. One time a man
named Ouden made an attempt to ex
tract some honey from the “Bowl.” He
bought the land, rigged up a big der
rick, and. with about forty Mexicans
and 100 pack mules, started for the
great honey cave. It was his plan to
wrap a Mexican up in several hundred
yards of mosquito netting, let him
down into the hole by means of a rope
ladder suspended from the derrick, and
let him fill the boxes with honey.
waii.ll vnuuiu ur uiami um u> lui'diis
of a pulley. When the ••Bowl” was
reached Ouden tried in vain to induce
one of the Mexicans to make the de
scent. Finally, as the only way out ol
it, he decided to go himself. He wrap
ped himself up in the netting, and or
dered the Mexicans to attach the rope
ladder to the derrick head. The one
who tried it got stung in a hundred
places before he got half way out to
the place where he was to attach the
ladder, and came back in a hurry,
dropping the ladder into the hole as
he stepped off the derrick. Then, as
there was nothing else to go down on,
Ouden determined to have them let
him down with the pulley rope. He got
started down all right and then the
real trouble began, the bees, enraged
at his movements in the entrance ot
their home, ilew at the Mexicans w ho
were holding the rope so that they
dropped it and ran like deer; at the
same time Ouden was making much
better time into the depths of the cav
ern. Luckily there was a knot in the
rope and this stopped his fall. There
he bung, dangling among the bees like
a puppet on a string, while his recreant
employes gathered up at a safe dis
tance and decided to skin out with the
outfit and sell it. At last, more dead
than alive. the unfortunate man. by
getting foot holds in the hives and
climbing hand over hand, managed to
pull himself out of the hole and limped
back over the weary distance to Del
Rio, much sadder and a wiser man
than wheu he undertook the expedi
tion.
Hmvy Reward# Rained on Kim.
At a patriotic meeting in British Co
lumbia the artist who was reciting
"The Absent-Minded Beggar" was
struck on the head by a valuable piece
of ore which a stalwart miner had In
his enthusiasm thrown upon the stage ,
on the third repetition of the lnjum- j
tion to "Pay. pay. pay!" lie dodged
nearly all the subsequent articles flung
toward him by the exuberant audience, I
and finally putting them up to auction
secured fancy prices for every missile,
obtaining more than $1,000. Weekly
Telegraph.
Ambition has but one reward for all
—a little power, a little transient fame,
a grave to rest In. and a lading name. |
—William Winter.
DELICATE FABRICS FROM ILOILO
Exqni*lle >on's Veil in*: Which <Tl1
Made by the Natives.
Perhap.s the most attractive package
received from the Philippines in this
city was that which went to Mrs. Mar
garet Sullivan, the mother of Lieut.
William Sullivan of the Twenty-sixth
regiment, says the Manchester (N. H.)
Union. The package contained a roll
of exquisite nun’s veiling, which was
made by the natives. Rolled up with
the doth were two shuttles, with the
bobbins in place, and which the na
tives operate by hand in making this
nun’s veiling. Accompanying the pack
age was a letter which was dated at
Iloilo, Dec. 15. and contained a few
facts about the manufacture of the
cloth. Lieut. Sullivan wrote that the
cloth is made by the natives cf Iloilo
in the cottages and the quantity sent
in the package (a number of yards)
cost only $2. “The natives weave some
of the finest patterns and colorings you
can imagine,” wrote the lieutenant,
“and the cloth is made from the ba
nana fiber. They also make a cloth
from the pineapple fiber, which is as
delicate as silk.” The shuttles accom
panying the cloth were of a dark wood,
and were well polished, as if they had
been used to a great extent. Whoever
made them was well versed in the use
of wood-working tools. Glass heads had
been placed in the bottom of the shut
tles to make them run easily, these
beads running on an axis of wire.
HOW JAPANESE LOOK AT IT.
<
They Resent the Gashtnc Altitude
Toward Their Country.
Perhaps no other country than J:.
pan has received so much unstinted
praise in the periodical literature of
the last two decades. But this is not
enough to satisfy a native of Japan,
says the International Magazine. He
knows that the powerful and respected
nations of the world are often criti
cised. and even bitterly attacked, for
certain shortcomings. Nothing has
less influence upon a sober and
thoughtful Japanese than laudatory
descriptions of the country and the
people. He suspects that this sort of
eulogy is not thoroughly sincere. It
is like the applause that is given to a
dog standing on his hind legs—noth
ing remarkable in itself, but remark
able for him. What the Japanese
prizes more than anything else is. in
essence,what all people ask for—name
ly. recognition based on mutual re
spect or equality. Failing to receive
this, he prefers the severest criticism,
it not made in a carping spirit. In
fact, a Japanese resents the gushing
attitude toward the art. the scenery, or
the refined manners of his country, be
cause he is aware that 'hese are really
not the objects of national worship in
Occidental countries. The fundamen
tal desires for equality stir him morn
than any other ideal virtue or power.
Decadent Character of French Fiction*
•'There is scarcely a man in French
fiction, let alone a gentleman,” says
George McLean Harper in the March
Atlantic. “Outdoor life, physical dan
ger and prowess, the joy of muscular
effort and victory over things, the
glory of seif-control, the intoxication
of free movement amid nature’s terri
ble and fascinating sport—all thesu
are infinitely better and more copious
ly rendered by Gogol and Tolstoi, by
Fielding. Scott and Stevenson, than by
anv Frenchman: for Dumas is unnat
ural and Loti silly. Nor, apart from
the description of sexual emotions,
and apart from Balsac, has French
literature a master of social synthesis
to compare with Jane Austen. Thack
eray or Trollope, or with Turgenieff.
And for novels of psychological analy
sis, with the same exceptions, there is
no French diviner of the heart like
Hawthorne and George Eliot; for
Stendhal is dreary and Bourget
chooses to limit his fine powers to
studying the outworn and wearisome
question of illicit love. Balzac alone
of French novelists is great in a
world-wide sense, but the traveler
through the city of his creation needs
a cicerone to save time."
African Ideas.
When the Arabs of the Soudan first
: saw the fire horses of the railway they
believed them to be alive and to be
harnessed by the magic of the infidel
to the long train of cars. One of their
sheiks, impressed by the seeming
cruelty of the whole affair, uttered an
impassioned remonstrance against
making so small an engine draw so
huge a train. The Windsor Magazine
records the strange impression made
upon the mind of the simple Matabele
when down at the other end of the
Cape to Cairo line they were first con
j fronted by a locomotive. They were
j certain that the strange machine was
worked by the labor of an indefinite
number of oxen, which, they assumed,
were shut rip inside. When the engine
I stopped they gathered in curious
; crowds, waiting to see the door open
and the oxen come out, nor could they
for many days be persuaded that th«
power of the locomotive came from
any other source than the strength of
the ox.
An Agricultural Horror.
In this instance the "Man with the
Hoe” was not the man with the hoe at
ai'. but the man with the sack of grain
under his arm. by the same artist. He
was scattering the grain over the field
with that grand.free motion and elastic
stride so familiar to us all. when his
oid slouch hat blew off. He swore.
"See!" mockingly exclaimed one of the
bystanders. "A sower with a bare
head is as cross as a bear with a sore
hi ad.” The wind moaned in undis
guised wretchedness, and a discour
aged raven in the middle distance im
mediately croaked.
Feminine Con'Utency.
Mabel "Why do you always buy two
kinds of note paper?” Maud—“Well,
> ou see. w hen l w rite to Tom I use red*
paper—that means love; and when 1
write to Jack I use blue paper—which
means faithful and true."—Chicago
Hally Mews. *
Hla Teeth Were Dumb.
iXH'toi Did your teeth chatter when
you had the chill? Patient—No: they
were on the table.— Boston Journal.
f
