A I.A7.V MAWS LAMENT.
, shall wo ne'er ngnin behold
Tan belle who'n languorous and
laxjr?
Tfce girl's who's always oji the go
Wbo can't bo qulct-6ctB mc crar-yj
Is summer, when 1 fnln would loaf,
I'm mnddened by the Ihbh athletic,
Who-tho It's ninety In the shade
Beguiles mo till I'm energetic.
, her activity, I tow,
Is llttlo less tbnn diabolic!
And 'tis bo business-like no mere
CJay madcap's giddy, girlish frolic?
With some new exercise each hour
This dnmosel Just aches to tusslo
Some nice new manly sport or gamo
That shown her ankles mid her mus
le. She mny bo pretty; but It plays
The dickens with the old Adnmle
Ideal of what's whnt, you know,
When Benuty wnxes so dynamic!
Bhe mny bo "fetching;" yet mcthlnkB
As, day by dny, her spirts diminish
1 see the 'e'ternnl womanly"
And muscle lighting ton finish.
With golf stick, tennis racket, oar
Or alpenstock, She Mill bewitches.
Ay, Beauty's sovereign o'er iib still,
K'cn tho' she boldly "bikes" In
To better things she may but blaze
The path, the fadful, "frcah" new
comer, Who's got no end of "dat5h"and "go"
But O, she makes mo tired In sum
mer. ?23J!?KSK3CZ3S
"?
UiVnivvio rvinr
mi MJinu.li.Mf3 fUUIi.
n
mSKJijAiAAtyiiZl 7ZS2S2&zni5X
A l'rovlnclul I.ovc Story.
"Ye ain't got hungry for tcrmaters,
Tto ye?'
Some ono had knocked at tho screen
door, and, as there was no response,
a man's strident, good humored voice
put the above question concerning to
matoes. But somebody had heard.
A woman had been Bitting In tho
kitchen with a pan of Scek-no-fiirlhcr
apples In her lap. She was paring
and quartering these, and then stab
bing tho Quarters through and string
ing them on yards of white twine, pre
paratory to festooning them on the
Clothes horse which stood In tho yard.
This horso was already decorated pro
fusely In this waj. A cloud of wasps
had flown from tho drying fruit as
tho man walked up tho path, llo
swung off his hat and waved tho In
sects away.
"I sny, have ye got hungry agin for
tcrmaters?" ho repeated.
Thon ho rattled tho screen, but It
was hooked In the Inside.
He turned and surveyed the three
windows that were visible In tho bit
of house.
"They wouldn't both be gone, 'n'
left thorn apples out," ho said to him
self. "I'm 'bout sure Ann's to home,
V ehe'B the ono I want to see."
A woman In the bedroom which
opened from tho kitchen was hurriedly
smoothing her hair, and peering Into
tho glass. Bhe was speaking with
the air of one who constantly talkks
to herself.
"Just np sure as I don't comb my
hair the lirst thing somebody comes."
She gavo the last pat and went to
the door. There was n faint smirk on
her lips and n Hush on her face.
Her tall figure was swayed by u
alight, caper tremor as she saw who
was standing there. She exclaimed:
"Goodness me! 'Taint you, Mr. Bak
er, 1b It? Won't ye walk right In?
But I don't -want no terniaters; they
always go agMnst me. Aunt Mnmluny
ain't to home."
"Oh, ain't sho?" was the brisk re
sponse. "Then I guess I will come
In."
The speaker pushed open tho now
Unfastened door mid entered. He set
his basket of tomatoes with a thump
on the rung, and wiped his broad, red
"Fact Is," he cald with a grin. "I
knew she was gone. I seen her goln'
crost pastur'. That's why I come now.
I ain't got no longln' to sec Aunt Man
dany no slree, not a Brain of longln'
to see her. But I thought 't would be
agreeable to me to clap my eyes on
you."
The woman simpered, made an Inar
ticulate sound, and hurriedly resumed
her seat and her apple-paring.
"Won't you sit down, Mr. Baker?"
be asked.
Her ringers trembled as she took the
darning needle nnd jabbed It through
an apple quarter. The needle went
Into her flesh, also. She gave a little
cry and thrust her finger Into her
mouth. Her large, pale eyes turned
wistfully toward her companion. The
laden, already elderly mouth quivered.
"I'm Jest as scar't as I c'n be If 1 see
blood," she whispered.
Mr. Baker's heavy underllp twitched;
her face softened. But he Bpoke
roughly.
"You needn't mind that bit of blood,"
he said; "that wou't hurt nothlu'. I
don't care If I do set down; I ain't
drove any this moraln'. I c'n Jest as
well as not take hold n' help ye. I
s'pose Mandany left a thuuderlu' lot
for ye to do while she's gone?"
"Two bushels," was tho answer.
"The old catl That's too much. But
twon't be for both of us will It, Ann?"
The woman said "No."
She looked for an Instant intensely
nt the mar who had drawn his chair
1'rectJy opposite her. He was already
paring an apple.
"I'd know what to make of It," she
said, still in a whisper.
"To make of what?" briskly.
"Why, when folks are so good to me
's you be."
"On, sho', now I Everybody nln't like
your Aunt Mandauy."
"Sh!' Dont speak so loud! Mebbe
eht ': be comln' back."
"No, she won't. No matter If she Is."
The loud confident tone rang cheer
ily in the room.
During the silence that followed, Mr.
Baker watched Ann's deft lingers.
"Everybody says you're real capa
ble," he remarked,
A Joyoiw red covered Ann's face.
"I Jest about do a! the work here,"
she said.
She looked at the man again.
There wns something curiously sweet
In the simple fare. The patltnt Hn
at each sldo of the closo, pale- mouth
had n strange effect upon Mr. Baker.
He had been known to sny violently
In conversation at the store tlint he
"never seen Ann Tracy Mhout wantln'
to thrash hor Aunt Mandany."
"What In tlmo be you dryln Seek-no-furthers
for?" he now exclaimed with
Bomo fierceness. "They're the flattest
kind of apples I know of."
"That's what nnnt says," was the
reply. "Sho snyH they're most as flat's
I be, 'n that's lint 'noiigh."
These words were pronounced as
though the speaker wero merely stat
ing a well-known fact.
"Then what she do 'uin for?' per
sisted Mr. Baker.
"She says thoj-'ro good 'nough to
swop for groceries In tho spring.' '
Mr. Baker made a deep gash In an
applo and held his tongue.
Ann continued her work, but she
took a good deal of Scek-iio-further
with the skin In n way that would
have shocked Aunt Mandany.
Suddenly sho raised her eyes to the
sturdy face opposite her anil said:
"I guess your wife had a real good
time, didn't she, Mr. Baker, when sho
was llvln'?"
Mr. Baker ilrntmcil liln l;nll'i Tip
ghtnCed up nmrmet iho w PTt m I "prn fcf"-
upon him.
Something he bad thought long dead
stirred In his conscience.
"I hope so," he said gently. "1 do
declare I tried to make her have a
good time."
"How long's she be'n dead?"
Most 10 years. We was llvln' down
to Norrls Corners then."
Tho man picked up his knife and
absently tried tho edge of It on the
ball of his thumb.
"I s'pose," said Ann, "that folks are
sorry when their wives die?"
Mr. Bakeii gave a short laugh.
"Wall, that depends."
"Oh, docs It? I thought folks had to
lovo their wives V bo sorry when
they died."
Mr. Baker laughed again. He made
no other answer for several minutes.
At last he said:
"I was sorry enough when my wife
died."
A great pile of quartered apples was
heaped up in the wooden bowl before
cither spoke again.
Then Ann exclaimed with a piteous
Intensity:
"Oh, I'm awful tired of belli' Aunt
Mandnny's fool"
Mr. Baker stamped IiIh foot Invol
untarily. "How Jew know they call you that?"
ho cried In a great voice.
"I heard Jane LlttleHold tell Miss
Monk she hoped nobody'd ask Man
dnny's fool to the sociable. And Mr.
Fletcher's boy told me that's what
folks called inc."
"Confound Jane Lltllotleld! Confound
that imp of a boy!"
These dreadful words burst out furi
ously. Perhaps Ann did not look so shocked
as sho ought.
" 'Taln't no use deiiyln' It,' she said;
"I nln't just like other folks. n that's
a fact. Things all run together, some
how. 'N' the back or my head's odd's
It can be."
"Pooh, what of It? There can't be
any of us think stlddy; 'n' If we could
what would It amount to, I .should like
to know? It wouldn't amount to a row
of pins."
Ann dropped her work and clasped
her hands. Mr. Baker saw that her
hands were hard, and stained almost
black on, fingers nnd thumks by )nuii
cutting of apples.
"Yo see," she said In a tremulous
voice, "sometimes I think If mother
hud lived she'd treated me so't I could
think stlddler. I s'pose niother'd loved
me. They say mothers do. Hut Aunt
Mandany told mc mother died the year
II got my fnl lfrom the chciry tree,
I was 8 then. I don't remember noth
In 'bout It, nor 'bout anything much.
Mr. Baker do you remember your
mother?"
Mr. Baker said. "Yes." abruptly.
Something made It Impossible for him
to say more.
"I'd know how 'tis; went on the
thin minor voice: "but It always did
seem to me's though If I could remem
ber my mother I could think stlddler.
Do you think I could?"
Mr. Baker started to his feet.
"I'll be blamed 'f I c'n stnn' It," he
shouted. "No, nor I won't stnn' It,
nuther!"
He walked noisily across the room.
He came back and stood In front of
Ann, wIkj had patiently resumed work.
"Come," he said, " I think a lot of
ye. Le's git married."
Ann looked up. She straightened
herself.
"Then I should live with you?" she
asked.
"Of course."
Sho laughed.
There waB so much of confident hap
piness In that lat'gh that the man's i
heart glowed youthfully. .
"I shall bo real glad to marry you, !
Mr. Baker," she said.
Then with pride. " '.V I can cook,
n' I know firstrute how to do house
work." "i
She rose to her feet and flung up her
head.
Mr. Baker put his arm about her.
"Let's go right along now," he said,
more quickly than he hnd yet spoken.
"We'll call to the minister's 'n' engage
him. You c'n stop there- Weil be
married to-day."
"Can't you wait till 1 c'n put oil my
buuult 'n' shawl?" Ann asked.
She left the room. In a few mo
ments sho returned for going. She
had a sheet of note-paper, n bottle of
ink and a pen in her hands.
"I c'n write," she said confidently,
" 'n' I call It fairer to leave woid for
Aunt Mandany.'
"All right," wns the response; "go
ahead."
Mr. Baker said afterward that he
never got much more nervous In his
life than while Ann wns writing that
note. Whnt If Mandany should ap
pear? He wasn't going to back out,
but he dldu't want to see that wo
man. The Ink was thick, the pen was like
a pin, and Ann was a good while mok
lug each letter, but the task wns at
last accomplished.
She held out tho sheet to her com
panion. "Ain't that right?" she asked.
Mr. Baker drew his face down sol
emnly as he read:
"Dere Ant Madanle: I'm so drettful
Tired of beelug your fool that line
going too be Mr. Bakers. He askt
me. ANN."
"That's Jest the thing," ho said, ex
plosively, "Now come on."
As they walked along In the hot
sunshine Mr. Baker said earnestly'
"I'm certain sure we sh'll be ever bo
murh hnpplcr."
"So'm I," An replied, with cheerful
confidence.
They were on a lonely road, and
they walked hand In hnud.
"I'm goln' to be good to ye," said
the man with still more earnestness.
Then, in a challenging tone, as If ad
dressing the world at large: "I gueoa
'taint nobody's business but our'n:"
Ann looked nt hlin and smiled trust
fully. After awhile he began to laugh.
"I'm thlnklii' of your Aunt Man
dany when she rends that letter," he
explained. Tho Chap Book.
-WIIAI.K AMI TIIUASHEIl.
Tim Kiuiriiiciu l-'ln of I lie I.iitter
Too Much for the IIIk Fifth.
The steamer Northern Light, which
arrived this morning from Shields,
brings to port the latest fish story.
Cnpt. I'arton of the Northern Light
.lsA 'I ami -fearless mariner, who
has sailed the Western ocean for
many a year. The Northern Light
plies between this port ami Rotterdam.
She sailed from that port on .lime 21,
calling at Shields to replenish the coal
bunkers and resumed her oyage on
tho 27th. The ship made a northern
passage, passing through the Pent
laud Firth, which separates the main
land from the Orkney Isles. Nothing
unusual occurred to break the mono
tony of a dull voyage ncioss the North
Atlantic until July 1, about 0 p. in.,
when about 2.Y) miles west of Hock
Hall. Tho weather at the time was
fine and clear, with a smooth sea. Tho
ollleers had Just returned to the deck
from below, having finished their
evening meal, when an nllleer on tho
watch suddenly drew the attention of
Capr. Parlon to a great disturbance on
the sea, about nine- miles ahead, on
the weather bow. A general rush was
made for the binoculars to investigate
the cause of the commotion, when a
large whale was sighted, apparently
in deadly eonlllct with some murine
monster, which appeared to.be revolv
ing over the whale's back. Within a
short time tho Northern Ltght was
abeam of the marine contest, which
was plainly visible to the naked eye.
It proved to be a fight to the death
between the whale and an enormous
fish called the thrasher.
The fish Is the deadly enemy of the
whale, and when these leviathans of
the deep meet a fight to the death is
the result. The thrasher usually
comes off best, and never ceases until
tile whale Is dead, a mass of tloating
blubber and bone. The near approach
of the steamer to witness the duel did
not In the least deter the thrasher
front delivering its two large fins or
horns with tremendous force on the
whale's neck, which, at every blow,
tried to get out of his way by diving,
and at times Jumping almost out of
the water In his frantic efforts to avoid
the enemy, the whale meantime
spouting on coming to the surJaeo. and
throwing upward such en Immense
body of water that the conflict could
not be seen for soeraI seconds at a
time. The battle raged furiously.
Meanwhile the Northern Light dilfted
slowly ahead, and as time would not
permit those on board to witness the
finish, the steanu'r pioceeded on her
course, but for some time afterward
they could be seen a long distance
astern still fighting furiously. The
thrasher with his enormous tins,
which It could move like the amis of
n man, appeared above the sea quite
twenty feet In a vertical position, be
fore striking a blow on the whale's
back. The estimated length of the
whale was fully 11X) feet, while that
of the thrasher was about eighty feet.
The chief engineer of the Northern
Light made a pen and ink sketch of
the battle on the spot, and fully veri
fies the truth of the captain's story.
He concluded his yarn by saying that
If the whale In wiiich .Touah spent
three days and three nights was as
large as this one. Jonah hud good no
contmodat Ions. Brooklyn Eagle.
SIi I.iiekcrt tin- I-'lrnt One
"Bridget,
it, I want a pound of steak, 1 delaVt he cau nmk(I i,inBeif qUIte pre
salt, two ounces of pepper, a i Rentable, when becomes into ins meals
a bag of
loaf of bread and a pound of butter,
Do you think you can remember them
all, or shall 1 write them down?
"Sure, mam, 1 kin remember one by
tho other. When I hev bread, I know
I want butter, and when I have steak
I want pepper and salt."
"All right. Go, and don't be long."
Bridget was not long. She was back
In li very short time, but with an
empty basket.
"Why, where Is the dinner, Bridg
et ?"
"I couldn't remember wan of them
ma in."
"Why, 1 thought you could remem
ber eaeli article by the one before It."
"Faith, mam, I had uothln' to re
mlmbcr the furst one by." Harper's
Bazar.
Old lloimen In New EiiKlnntt.
It sometimes seems strange. even to
an "old settler" In Connecticut, living
lu the midst of all the new movement
of modern life, with Its railroads, tele
graphs, telephones, electric lights, bi
cycle's and all the other thousand-ami-one
leatures of the modern world, to
reflect that even lu this new country,
with no picturesque quality, there are
old houses In Hartford aud lu Farm
lugton, that were built ouly about
thirty years after "the plague" and
"the great fire" In London and In one
Connecticut town (Guilford) a stone
house, built nearly ten years before
the beheadlug of King Charles I., and
which looks to-day us If It would last
for another century or two. It was
built In 1039. s much for a defense
agalust the Indians ns for a parson
age, and It was lined fqr both purposes,
Hait ford 'nines.
The llcnuon.
Mills Why do you stay at homo
while your wife goes to the moun
tains? You might both go to the sea
shore near by.
Hills Impossible. I have to stay
home here to feed the cats, while ouly
tho mountain air agrees wltL Fldo In
summer. , . .
Courtship after MnrrhiKO.
The American Ruinl Home.
We wish to say a few words, in all
gravity, to young fanners ami their
wives, who have entered into the near
est, sweetest, most sacred relation it
is possible for individuals to assume
towards one another, in this world.
You have formed a life union to es
tablish a fan-iily; to obtain a com
petency lor your support and for the
support nnd cducatiouof those human
beings who may be tho result of your
Vnion; to build up a rural home that
shall bo a pleasant, beautiful dwelling-place
for you while you live, and
lor your children so long as they
shall live with you, and a placo that
shall live in their memories, when
they shall have gone forth from tho
parental homo to establish, for them
selveB, homes in tho world.
For some time previous to mar
riage, possibly for years, you passed
through a period of what is called
courtship, in common parlance, in
which essayed to win the favor, the
nlTections of tho other. During that
timo each sought to bo agreeable to
the other, in dress, in language and in
actions. The young man, when about
to visit tho young lady, undoubtly
tried to make herself as prcsentnblo
as possible. Ho probably washed
himself clean, bo that he might not
carry any of the dirt and filth of tho
farm and tho domestio auamnls into
the presence of the lady, he was woo
ing. Ho probably put on clean linen,
brushed and donned his best apparel,
blnckcned his boots, and presented
himself to his lady at his very best.
And tho young lady, does any one
doubt that she selected her most be
coming dress, her most bewitching
ribbons and collar, and that hor hair
wns arranged in tho most attractive
style, when she expected a visit from
her suitor?
Each had succeeded in winning the
Jove of tho other, and both are satis
isiied that their nuptial happiness will
bo greatly enhanced by uniting their
lives, traveling life's mysterious path
way togother. Doubtless, theyinuivid
ually create an ideal of their future
married life, in which each shall find
his or her highest enjoyment and hap
piness in ministering to the happiness
of tho other. This is nil well: it is
wisely ordained that the young shall
indulge in bright, lovely visions of the
future and that the most liitenso.niost
powerful passions and bcntiinciits of
human nature shall conspire to bring
about the conjugal union.
The marriage is consummated; the
young couple move into their rural
home; does courtshipcontinueV "But,"
says the reader, "they have won each
other's love, wherefore the necessity
of further courtship?" Perhaps some
of tho means used to w.n Iove,may bo
ntceasary'to retain it. Let us consid
er. In courtship they seek to win love
by making themselves agreeable, by
slicking to please; can they retain love,
if disagreeable, if regardless of ple.isiug?
There are numerous ways in which
those holding the relation of husband
and wife may render themselves agree
able or disagreeable to each other. In
courtship we bee how careful the man
is to make himself as presentable nu
possible, when about to appear in the
presence of her, he is wooing. Can In
entirely neglect his personal appear
anco after marriage without injuring
thc.feelings of his wife? Can he go into
the'presence of his wife, morning, noon
and night, with soiled hands and face,
with his garments plastered with tho
earth ho cultivates una odorous witii
the scent of domestic animals and his
boots smeared with their olTal, with
out provoking in her the thought that
he is a little locking in that tender re
spect which ho always showed her in
his auti-uuptiul courtship?
"But how is ho going to help it?
You would not expect, a fanner to
change his clothes every time he goes
into the house, would you?"
No, that would hardly bo practica
ble. But it is practicable for a fanner
to so arrange his dress for labor and
for the house that, with a very little
or to snend tho evening at his fireside
Everv farm-house should have a back
lobby or entrance, as well as a front
hall, and therein a larnier can hang
his work clothes, or overhulls. There
should always be a foot-scraper and
mat nt the back-door. The farmer,
when he come- in to his meals, can
MTiipo and dean his boots, slip
off his overhalli and on his dean
coat, wash, brush his hair and
clothes, and appear at the table
tolerably dean and free fioni offensive
odors. Jf his boots are too lifthy to
properly clean, without consuming
too much time, he can have a pair of
slippers nnd boot-jack convient, re
move his boots and put on his slip
pers in a very short time. That is
probably the better way when ho goes
into tho sitting room in the evening,
and a soft dressing gown is neat and
comfortable, as an evening garment.
The ninn feels more selfiespeet.com
nlacencv. in dean garments in the
house, und the woman is flattered by
such an exhibition of regard to her
feelings. Iustsadof Baying, by action,
"I have secured you, yon are mine nr.d
I shall now consult my ease, without
regard to your feelings;" he says, "I
am just as anxious to make myself
agreeable to you, to piease you,
as I was before I was assured
that I had secured your affections."
On the other hand, tho wife, who in
the old courtship, had been so care
ful never to appear in the presence of
her suitor until bhe had made herself
as attractive and winsome ns possi
tile, often becomes quite careless ol
her personal appearance at home,
with no one present but her husband,
although sho may still bo very par
ticnlai about her dress and appear
ance when she goes into society. Ah!
young wife, it will pay you to strive
to preserve the vision of loveliness
that won your husband's lovo as
long as possible. See that he is not
too rudely awakened from his en
chantment, or you may never be able
again to weave the spell around him.
Not only ia dress and personal ap-
pcarnnco should husband nnd wife
seek to continue their courtship after
ranrriage, but also in language and
conduct. They were ncctistomcd be
fore marriage, to address each other
in respe'.'tiui, tender language, to say
nothing that would wound tho feelings
or make the other unhappy; let them
be equally ns careful, in these respects,
alter marriage. And, as the husband,
before mntriage, was solicitous to re
lieve her, who is now his wife, of every
burden, nnd avert every avoidable in
felicity, let him be equally solicitous
now, that she has placed her life's
happiness in his keeping. On tho
other hnnd, if tho wife truly loves
her husband and desires his wel
fare nnd happiness, sho will not
bo unnecessarily exacting of servi
ces, will not convert the power sho
possesses over his affections into a
petty tyranny. It depends largely
upon this second courtship, whether
tho affections elicited in tho first
courtship shall be enlarged, strength
ened, made enduring, or gradually ex
tinguished. Wero there mora of this
post-nuptial courtship there would be
much less employment for divorco
courts.
Husband and wifeliving'together as
wo have faintly indicated, will do
more towards cnvolving beautiful,
attractive, happy rural homes, than
unbounded wealth, supplemented by
artistic tastes and capacities, can
possibly create by means of landscape
ornamentation, architectural con
struction of interior decoration, for
tho loves and virtues , must preside?
over true homes.
-
Uncle Sum's Xnvnl Chaplains.
From tho Now York Sun.
Out ol the many thousand gentle
men who find snug shelter beneath tho
government's fostering wing none en
joy the pence, prosperity and general
happiness in equal measure with tho
twenty-ono who are chaplains in the
navy. They toil not, and seldom pray,
but draw their salaries with eleganco
and precision. These salaries are
large, or would be for an ununiformed
wordling. For tho first fivo years of
service each chaplain culls $2,500 per
year and his rations, if at sea, from a
benevolent National Treasury, $2,
000 if on shore duty and $1,000 if on
waiting orders, the last named being a
condition of complete inertia. Evcraf
ter the live years mentioned tho renu
mcration is $300 more, in all stages of
service. Rations consist in tho mam
of hardtack and pork, with a smack
of sugar and cofTeo thrawn in, andean
be traded off for canned chicken or
anything palatable to wardroom ap
petites. With theexception of giving tho ship
schoolmaster an occasional lift in his
duty of driving simple educational
facts through the saline skulls, tho
chaplain does nothing. Ho holds no
services, except now and then at a
stray funeral. The only suuday fea
tures of a innn-ofwur are extra clean
decks and officers in full dress uniforms,
includinc buttons. The chaplain wears
just as many buttons ns any of them,
but he does no preaching. Except for
apiovision in the newil. regulations
it would bo hard c, tll why any hips
carry a chaplain. This says they
must, and they do. There is no dodg
ing naval rules with salaries attached
to them. No chaplain on shipboard
wearies himse'f with stirring up religi
ous cntimeiit among t lie men, or wor
ries nbout their tarrv souls.
Not every ship carries a chaplain.
Only a flagships are thus adorned.
Chaplains are too expensh e. The plain
leaky cruisers can not possess them.
Four flagships thus ornamented are
the Teniiebse, Notth Atlantic squad
ron; Pensacola, Euiopean squadron;
Trenton, Asiatic squadron, and Hart
ford, Pacific squadron- The Nipsic,
both licet nnd flagship, cruising alono
on the South Atlantic station from
Rio to Cape Horn, gets along without
a parson. Each of tho three training
ships, Minnesota, New Hampshire
nnd Jamestown, carry a chaplain,
and one is attached to each working
navv-vurd to look out for the sniritu-
at welfare of tars newly gathered in on
the receiving ships.
The rest of the twenty-one arc on
special duty or waiting orders. Not
a few of the shore chaplains are pros
perously quartered on denomina
tional parishes, thus securing pleasing
addition to their several incomes.
Those stationed at navy yards ninko
the most show of professional useful
ness. Local churches of mission usual
ly afford services of some sort on the
receiving ships in which the chaplain
co-operates. But altogether tho lot
of a chaplain is a most happy one,
and that of chaplains at sea especial
ly so. Without irksome labor of any
sort or responsibility, he can join the
Captains of marines, another flagship
luxury, i:i a perennial siesta on tho
ward-room sofas.
Merchant Navies of the World.
A comparative table of the strength
of the merchant navies of the world
which has just been published in France
shows that Great Britain possesses
22,5000 trading vessels, with an ag
gregate tonnage of 11,200,000 tons.
Of these vessels, -1,0-10 are Bteamers,
with a tonnage of 5,910,000 tons, or
rather more than one-half the grand
total burden. The United States
makes a very bad second, with 0,000
sail and 2,700,000 tons. Norway has
4,200 vessels, with 1 ,500,000 tons,
and Germanv which comes immedi
ately after her, has a.OOO vessels with
a total of 1,400,000 tons; Franco,
Italy and Russia bring up tho rear,
each with less than 3,000 vessels. Tho
proportion of steamers is, however, of
greater importance than the total
number of ships engaged in the trade,
and in this regard France stands
second, although she hns but 458
Bteamers, of 067,000 tons in all, to
England's 4,045. Germany presses
her closely with 420 steamers and
470,000 tons.
A Famous Trick.
Robert Heller, the famous magican,
who died a few years ago, used to ex.
hibit with delight one trick of wiiich he
was very proud. He would step to
tho front of tho platform, holding cut
at arm's-length a small bird-cago in
which hopped and chirped a live spar
row. Extending tho cage above his
head, and grasping it with both hands
ho would say,
"Ladies and gentlemen, you see this
cago. It is a real cage isn't it? You
see the bird. It is a real bird isn't it?
Now watch me closely. The moment
I snnp my fingers, the cago and bird
will vanish into thin air."
He would then snap his fingers, ami
both cage and bird would disappear,
leaving not so much as a feather be
hind. Calvert, a French wonder-worker,
having heard of the bird-cage trick, de
termined to discover its secret. -He
came to the performance one evening
armed with a powerful opera-glass.
Just as Heller stepped upon tho plat
form, with tho cage in his hands, Col
vert called out.
"Put the cage down on the table, or
hold it out by one hnnd."
Heller made a reasonable excuse for
not doing anything of the kind, nnd
immediately caused tho cage to disap
pear, as usual. The next morning
Calvert, wlTo was on good terms with
Heller, called upon him at his hotel.
"Ah, monsieur?" said the French
man. "I have discovered your great
bird-cage trick at last!"
"Have you?" replied Heller, smil
ing. "Pray describe it."
"No. Come to my pciforniauce to
morrow night, and you shall see it."
"Very well." said Heller. "If you
can perform the trick, you nre tho
only living person, besides myself,
who can do it."
Heller went to tho evening perfor
mance, and t ook a front seat. Alter
the usual tricks with cards and pis
tols had been performed, Calvert came
forward with a bird-cage, in which
could be Seen a small bird fluttering
about. Holding the cage out at
arm's-length, ho said,
"Ladies and gentlemen, you will sco
here to-night, for the first time, tho
great bird-cage trick of the American
wizard, Heller, I have had the honor
to discover the trick, and I now per
form it before you ns my own. When
I snap my lingers the cage and bird
will disappear."
Looking directly nt Heller, with a
smile, Calvert snapped his fingers, and '
the bird-cago vanished.
At Heller's death the method of
making tho cage, and causing it to dis
appear, was disclosed.
The cage, made of the finest and
most delicate wires, was separated in
to compartments by a thin partition.
These two compartments were held to
gether by minute but powerful strings,
which tvero made to open by pressing
two wires, ono on each side of thecage.
The two wires wero held by the per
former between his thumb and finger,
ns he extended the cago at arm's
length. Each compartment of tho'
cage wns so made- that when tho
springs which held them together were
loosened, the compnrtments would
collapse, or fob up, in a very small
conipasss.
Attached to each dide of thecage,
close by the wires held by the linger
Mid thumb of the erfurn:T. were
stout elastic cords running up the in
side of Heller's sleeves, and fastened
at soniepoint above his elbows.
The bud chosrn for tho cage was
one of thu smallest varieties of spar
row, and he was placed in the com
partment to which the petition be
longed. Suppose the performer now ready to
exhibit tliecage. Ilestens out holding it
atarms-length. Tho elastic bands be
ing on the inner side of his hands and
wrists, are not perceived by the audi
ence. Ho snaps his fingers; that is, he
presses the wires which let the cage fall
apart; each side collapses, and tho
force of the tightly-stretched rubber
pulls each section of the cago up the
performer's sleeves.
Tho bird is drawn up with the side
in which it wns placed, and, strange
to say, is not often seriously injured
by the operation.
Eveiy part of this trick requires the
utmost skill and the most delicate
handling in every detail to make it
successful. The fact that Heller per
formed the trick hundreds of times be
fore attentive audiences, without be
traying the secret of it, shows to what
an extent attention to details mny en
able a man to triumph over the seem
ingly impossible. The Youth's Com
panion. Industrial Kdiulatlon.
The Row Albert Busline!!, Geneseo,
III., in a letter to The Advanced points
out with force that since society is
pyramidal always broadest at tho
base the "high culture" of the few
does not elevate the many, who must
live by manual labor, the one resource
open to them. "As well," ho Bays,
"paint and shingle a house whose lot
ten sills and posts are sinking into the
cellar." The practical training for
which he pleads equips for the only
line ot life that awaits the masses,
which mere scholastic education can
never give; it "insures a better under
standing and obedience of sanitary
laws; lessens tho rate of mortality; by
it habits of work are formed, economy
practised, taste and judgment de
veloped, self-respect and self-reliance
begotten, independence and stability
of character becured, and tho indivi
dual becomes much more thoroughly
fitted in all respects for tho duties of
citizenship." Many such published
expressions arc current of late,indicat-j
ing the growth of a sentiment favor
able to "work instead of words." Tha
agricultural colleges especially bhould
recognize tho demand and conform to
it.
"Blue ribbon beer," made at Toron
to and sold as a temperance drink, is
found to contain between 2 and 3 per
cent of alcohol, or about half as much
as is put in lager beer.
n
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VI
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