Evening Star Newspaper, June 22, 1878, Page 6

THE WEDDING DAY. Sweetheart, name the day for m> When we two shall wedded be. Make it ere another moon, While the meadows are in tune, And the trees are blossoining, And the robins mate and sin; Whisper, love, and nam onth of My. lay is + be better spent ng? I would wad ver blossoms rad, ir ts fall of bliss ashine like a kisa. . LP it geant a boon: If you're g You shail have me, sir, in June, Nay, nay, nay, Girls for one shoal hev3 th Ar way Ti you love me, wait till June: Resebnds withe picked too son, AEdmund 0. Stediarn inthe Atlant Monthly. NOT THE PRETTY MISS PURDY. f rper’s Weekly.) “Its inconceivable to me, mamma,” said s Blanche, ‘how any woman with’ spirit can mak? such an exibition of herself; bat the fact is, Lily never had a particle of spit Even a worm «iil turn sometimes when it trod upon, but [believe aay one could tram. ple the vita's out of Lily and she'd rmur. The worst of it is, she spoils my and it’s too bad, when she hasn't the chance herself, that she will y sist in acting the part of a dog in th I shou'd think, considering th and uncomfortable role she’s chosen for self, the fact of securing her idol in the fa would hold some charm for her; but the wlous display ‘she makes of her unreq affection} dually bringing to ruin all our available p 4 Miss B/anche tossed the egg-shells from her fingers, and looked about her in disdain upon the con reakfast-room and its ap- purtena The house which the Purdys cecupie en rater an imposing one but the burden of unpaid and assessments had broken its once high spirit, and its chief and only charm now lay in the lor floor. Poor Mr. Purdy had long since yiven up ail idea of redeeming the piace from its I and indeed, as the mort was long overdue, it began to be apparent to even his hopeful nature that some property was slipping out of his hold. He consoled himself with the prospect of a legal Squabble with the mortgagee, Mr. Purdy was a lawyer himse.f, an the town offices, he thought his eh £00 anoth r. In the would turk up; and un houghts reverted to the ex rms of his eldest daughter He was se ny the Perhaps, some 3s his conse traordi Blaneh this.asa great n happy direction. if charms, so blue were her eyes, so hair, sv perfect her lips and the so vivid her enlor, so lithe and gra form, so shapely her feet and hand known far and near ag “the pretty reely to be blamed for hts ran in thesame Purdy. ‘Then she could talk so well, could smi) and blush so and da and row, and swim, and sks nd sing. and play, and pose so divine What they would have done without her the church fairs, where she always re wer Stand, and threw in with ea y would hav: priceless a smile: sed with her + various con! ehurch annt ivanees by which the big over its financial difi eulties—it Would be hard to say. Bat " thonght of doing without the Purdy: indeed, it Was generall that the teacher of the Bib.e cia: meant e her as a p y Miss concede manen town of Si and its vieinity. 1 en known to strongiy object to the title of “the tty Miss Purdy,” and was really the most available party ound « away withit. She was rather queftish and shy, as | sition, but nobody but a fool would re proffer of the fine house and landed p and handsome person, majestic manners, un” bounded perquisites in trade and in societ that belonged to Mr. Henry Ho pretty Miss Purdy was not a fool, so this magnificent man and engaging woman were drifting to- in this natural fitness of things, when most an absurd—obstacle pre- sented itse The yo ster of the pretty Miss Purdy fell hope in love with Mr. Howe. It seemed like a joke at first, Miss Lily was so oung: she reely reached her eigh. eenth year, and had fust entered Then she was so plain, So hopelessly such a misfortan fotks of id, to name a girl Lily, till you could some idea of what her complexion would be and, dear me! how very murky and dark and and turpid was the skin of poor Lily And her hair was so abundant and y,it was almost impossidie when it was irre that way pulated Ww Was so much more easily ma untrammelled by these natur fine eyes, to be , larg bat what Were eyes in a Case li She was L dull; and: th antages the poor ci Known, In contr her sister, as not the pretty Miss think of the dis. bored under! 1 tinetion Purdy nt Seabrook w deseanting upon t Sor failure ¢ this or that entertainment, it was so natural to Miss Purdy was there—not the pretty Miss rdy, but that plain little sister Of hers, youknow.” It was sad for the poor child, very sad: and, to crown all, she must o and fall desperately in love with Mr. Henry lowe, the richest, the handsomest, altogether the finest man in the place. At first her pas- sion was set aside as the foolish, rather fu ward preference of a child. Mr. Howe had been visiting there a long while, a little more pronounced in his attentions than the other Suitors of Blanche, and gradually gravitating to the position of a suitor; this of course re: dered his footing in the household an easy one, and his bearing to the younger sister was gentle and encouraging and familiar, as was atural under the circumstances. It began to be apparent that Lily clung to his preseace pertinaciously—too much so altogether for the comfortable American custom of letting ung people arrange their matrimonial af- fairs for themselves. never | declared that he could have managed the vixen if he had been let atone; but, be that as | it mag, the window of The front basement, | proaching her sister, who had where we last left the pretty Miss Pures, and her mother at breakfast, was sudieuly Cashed open, and ont sprang a female figure to the relief of the imperilled horseman. Trere was a wi'd vision of flowing skirts ant bair streaming in the wind, a little arm aa hand catehing at the rein and di ing at it for half a second or so; then all mee the animal became as quiet asa lamb, and huag head euriously over the female figure, now prostrate on the pavement. Mr. Howe flung himselt off his horse, and carried Miss Purdy up the stairs to the parlor floor—not the pretty Miss Purdy; bless you, no. Mr. Howe might have eurvetted and pranced there on the two hind-legs of his horse tiil his fate determined forever, so far as the pretty Miss Purdy was concerned. Besides, her back was ‘urned to the window; she was busy re- gost entered the dining-room, and poor Mrs. Purdy was look- ing op, when suddenly they saw the child's ‘sbecome distended with a will horror, she flew, as it were, out the window. Ic all over then ina few moments, and Mr. Howe was carrying his unconscious burden intothe parlor. The mother rushed away for restoratives and a doctor, and Mr. Howe in the next few minutes went far to rivet the chains that bound him to the pretty Miss Purdy. They were beth hanging over th couch of poor Lily, and the oceasion was cer- tainly calculated to call forth the strongest emotions of both parties. Blanche was ex cessively fond of her sister in her own, way, | and the pitiable condition of the poor child was very alarming. Bianeké trembled and grew pale, and it was necessary for the strong arm of Mr. Howe tu support her. “Don't Y, Blanche,” he salt, her thus familiarly for the first time life. ‘* My sweet Blanche, don’t give w my sake—for ali our sakes.” Then Mrs. Purd: me into the room, shortly after the doctor arrived; and as soun as the medical gentleman had declared there nothing very serious to fear, that it was slight coneussion of the brain, and ‘are and quiet all would be_wel!— soon as Bianche Was it ease about Lily, her verted to the tender accents and bly fond words of Mr. Howe. And the soul of the pretty Miss Purdy was rested inthe thought that this procrastinated and tedious wooing would now be brought to a eedy and desirable end. The doeior went way. Mrs, Purdy called to some dome: Purdy were left there together. Mr. Howe was sitting quite close to Blanche, his eloow on the arm of her chair, and his head resting op his hand. It was graceful, almost a touching position for a lover under the cir- cumstances. Blanche was quite content that he should remain silen*, feeling cert what was going on in his heart. Al me little, a I!, we Know of this unstab! nt Ttsquips and qui andangos pass all human underst nding. Mr. Howe sighed heavily, and B aneite put her hand sympathizinuly upon his arm. It retty hand, slim and white, with rosy is—a very pretry hand: and e's other hand was dangling uselessly e: but he made no effort to take the tnd in his own. e.” whis getting 6 pathes. S the doctor said sc “Yes, but thin whispered Mr. nd whereas Blanche’s whis! his) wa appens t he i be married, itl kill her, it ‘IH ak her heart nd [shall be her murderes Great Heaven anche, You don't you, that Lean't doit? It’s the most infernally tor menting thing that ever happened to am but Tean’t marry one sister and kill anothei I came here this morbing prepared to mak formal propositl for your hand, and let. thing go by the board but our happiness at You Know how Lily feels about me, e risked her life for me—all fo'ly, of e: Leould have managed the brute my- ily was teside herself with fright, ow, poor child, what 3 ou see—don't you, Blanch position all this places me in. An would have to be made of stone to go any farther just now.” “Dont, Mr. Howe—don’t say any more, said Blanehe, in a voice that sounded qu toh f, it was so strained and harsh. should be'sorry to leus than y v! have m: great misiake all through. Blanche paused a moment to get her breath. Itseemed to her that it almost had left her body for a while there when this man was eT feel more ridieu- tell you that you : ng. Not that she loved him—oh no. Blanche had never. particularly loved any Vody but herself, and her f aceesso} ies to herself. But she was really a& vast amount of love in this way; how cruelly it bad been torn and and trampled upon ss stake!” he repeated. a mistake,” said BI remaikabie one, under the man should never take it sted thata won accept hi pter of riage. In this ease it was impossible. My word is y given to another.” broke in Me Howe; ‘en; “What somebody else? Oh, that can't be you know. This is all a “TI can not understand,” said Blanche, coldly, “how the matter rn you in the least.” Then, seeing a look of sharp in- credulity in his face, she was stung to desper- ation, atid mentioned the first name that oc- curred toher. “It is Mr. Brower.” she said. “The man who holds your father's mor gage?” said Mr. Howe. “Yes,” replied Blanche: and then Mr. Howe got upon his feet, and with one piercing look of disdain upon the beautiful. woman at | his side, bowed low to her, and said with her Blanche endeavored in | vain to get rid of this stumbling-block to her rogress: hints and winks and frowns and li Be errands were unavailing: at last the pa- rental authority was called in, and the parior floor became Blanche’s undivided empire. But there was the Bible class, which Liy a ways attended in storm or sunshine, and of course it was impossible to restrict the child's religious privileges., Lily had not mastered enough of Bible literatu make herse either a help or a nuisance to her teacher ; the Poor eit, was not even a hard student jue stocking of ar it would have pre sion if she had been; I think it rarely de but, anyway, I may as well confess cindidly thai Tam not holding back any expabilisies ta pered eLily’s mind or person that will sud tenly - ‘Sweep away all obstacles to her h Her mind appeared to be as slugzi blood, her whole bemg s pletely dominated by this « fection that it overtlowed to the surfacs, and unconsciously to herself she was the talk of the class. When she entered society her had been for a short time the talk of the place—only a short time, be- cause the subject was too absurd and anim. portant to oecupy the gossips of Seabrook long, uit it was long enough to make Mr. Howe uncomfortable—very uncomfortable indeed. His maiden sister, who superiutended his heme, began one morning to inveigh in no measured terms against this unbecoming conduet on the part of Miss Foray “Not the pretty Miss Purdy. Henry,” said Miss Howe. “I must say, although I don't altogether fancy the pretty Miss Purdy” (it would be hard to say who Miss Howe did al- foolish partialit, together fancy), “I've no fault to find with | if her manners or apy “There é “arance.”” no fault to find, Jane,” said her brother. “And as for this outrageous talk about Lily, it's the most monstrous thing I ever heard of. “ Well,” said Jane, with an eloquent sniff of her thin high nose, “Pm glad your eonseience iseasy. I should hate to believe that you had Jed the girl into this unseemly idolatry. I have been forced into giving the matter some attention myself—" ‘These confounded tattle-mongers of S2a- brook—" said Mr. Howe. Then paused, re- memberjng that his maiden sister was at the head of tuis set “—Some attention myself,” Howe, who never allowed turbed by these fraternal out! have sen that she never takes her eyes from ‘our face, that she is obsequious entiops to you, that she blushes with de! When you speak to trembles at your frown. © Stuff and nonsens put an to this.” pursued Miss If to be ais. it and 1 said Mr. Howe. “TUL And soon thereafter direction, he became so vexed ia spirit and cout of temper with the world in general that his bigh-bred nag caught the infection, and began in unison. (Mr. Howe had determimed when he left the couse to give the final blew to all this gossip by proposing at once for the hand of the pre.ty Miss Purdy. He weuld have done so ne age but for some fastidious qualms he had in relation to her father. He wished with all his heart. as he rode along, that the object of hi e m hadn’ta relation in the : and becoming more and more vexed and restive as a hundred hateful objections to her family arose in his mind, when he Teached the house, preparatory to dismount- ing, he gave a svage jerk to the Dit, that threw the « *- animal beneath him on her haunches. >\v ovoucr had she recovered from this shock to her sensibilities than she ros? upon her hind-legs and began to paw the air 4a'a. mys Lyely taaupes ats Hows always his horse and riding in a familiar | permission he would go, but would, of course, call again in the course of the day to ask after her sister. Then he took his leave without a giance at the poor pale girl that had caused all this trouble. ‘As for Blanche, no sooner was he out the door than she fell to erying—bitterly, but un. der ber breath, and without any unladylike demonstrations. Not that she loved ‘him, mind; butshe had been goaded beyond en” durance, and without this relief of tears, which are woman's safety-valve, she could not have been mistress of herself and her lans. veil at once. the poor Biri on, cis lonnge struggled back to consciousness, and opening her eyes upon Blanche, was touched beyond measure to find her in tears. It was really an extraordinary thing, and Lily was not to be Diamed for taking these tears in Pi y self. She put out her little cold pulled the dress of Blanche, and begs: not fo ery. . “Don't ery for me, Blanche,” she “Don't—please doa't ‘spoil your beawi eyes tor me, It matters little whether I oriive; 1 think Ud so much rather die if | eould. Ti would be so much better for us all. But tell me just one thing, Blanche dear, wr —oh! do tell me, is he liu Blanche began to respect Li There was bout this passion of hers that appea'ed to Blanche’s Idea of power. She had always loved the child, in her own way, asa Purdy and a part of herself, but now she began to respect er. “He isn’t hurt, you dear little goose,” said Blanche; “he has just left us, and will come to see you again to-day.” | ~ And was he very ‘much out of patience with my—my absurdity?” said Lily. “On the contrary,” replied Blanch quite touched the heart of his majesty then such a sweet gladness shone in the child eyes, such a pretty color rushed to her chee! er face became So suddenly radiant with an inexplicable warmth of tenderness and emotion, that Blanche found it far from plain. If the couch had been crimson instead of tne, if Lily's hair had been arranged gracefully, if instead of that stiff white collar some soft yellow lace were about her neck, and here a thought that was almost a revelation seized the fertile fancy of Blanche, and Mrs. rors coming in at that moment to take her place by the couch of her daughter, Blanehe ran hghtly down the stairs to her fa ther, who was walking up and down, the din- ing-room, with his hands behind his back, ap- arent une the dingy design in the jaded carpet there, butrealiy bent upon more important matters. When Mr. Howe called again it was at the close of a long miserable day to him, as well 3 to some other human creatures. His sensi lities had also been torn in their teaderest bre, and being a man, he had not been able to ery and have it out with himseif. He was too superior and punetilious to sw and vent his spite in rage and brutality upon his ks and dependents, so all this wretehed- «i become bent up within him till night fall, and he told himself, ashe moodily went in the familiar direction that poli'ene=s die. tated. but inc.ination forba have to goon in this way thi He could not let the world Know how ecru he had been used, and eouid only be thiakt he was saved the i a direct refusa! from this false, tless_ Woman because his conscience wouid not allow him to ride rough-shod over the heart of the only being. he began to believe, that loved him in the whole wide world—1i; poor lir le girl, who had braved every thing fr thai love: the tattle of these aniserable goss} and reproach of her family and frien ts, an at last her own precious life. tis! heart melted within him as he thought of it all. Mr. Purd? met him at the door, and ap- peared to Le very muei moved aud agitated as he wrung Mr. Howe’s hand. A cold chill shook the heart ot Mr. Howe. “Great Heayen!” he cried ; “she is not—rot worse?” that he would heend of ree iv “*No, ro—I hope not,” said Mr. Purdy. “1 | sincerely hope there is nothing to be appre- hended of a serious nature; but, my dear sir,” he pursned, in a low, trembiin; alco, is dan- “‘somet this revulsion of feelin; ous eemnetiones joy will kill. “And this ghUG bas 90 lony cherished yehat she has tie duty, and Mr. Howe and the pretty Miss | S recovering, she tinds out we're | PS. the obloquy | considered @ hopeless jion, a sentiment, Sir, that has oceisioned unspeakable sorcow }, that we have endeavored in vaia to and repress; and se¥, Sir, now, when her life, which has been repressed ani shrouded by despair and sadaess, is alla oree allowed to bloom out in the very fallivess of joy— Oh, Mr. Howe, God biess you. Str. God bless you! But be careful, be very care- ful: remember, my dear Sir, that joy’ wil— will—sometim s—kill. Here Mr. Purdy’s voice broke. his eyes with his handkerchief, and as they had ‘reached the end of tne ‘corridor, opened the door softly, let Mr. Howe ia, thaa shut it again, leaving himself oat, and Mo, Hove found himself quite alone with Miss Purdy, and not the pretty Miss Purdy. For amoment he stood there quite helpless and forlorn. The rodomoutade of her fathe whore wordy ways had always been a cu to bim, still rumbled in his ears without any intelligible meaning, aud the gure” on the couch before him confused and’ bewildered him. It held a singular grace and charm. The light burned low, ihe fire from the grate seemed to cast a soft erimson, glow over every thing—over the warm-colored shiwl that'was spread about Lily, and the yellow lace at her thro nd hands; apon her hair, that feil back over the pillow in a purple mass locks about her face that nad taken caressin: crinkles he had never noticed before. And her eyes were wonderful. They drew him, in spite of himseif, to the couch, and made nim bend ever her and take her cold little hand in hisown. She lifted it to her jips withoita word, but her eyes were wonderful. Lney spoke a whole sweet language of theic own. A queer Sort of yearning tugged at his he wrt He could not tell whether he was most mis- erable or most happy; hut the one thou si that was uppermost in his mind was that he! alone he cou'd find peave and rest and teuta and purity. He sank on his knees by her side, and put his lips to her forenead’ and whispered. “ Only get weil, dear, so that Lean have you all to myself. Eyen in that sweet moment, you see, he hated the ideaof the rest of the Purdys. But he soon got over thit, and even Went io Blanche’s marriage, Which speelily followed hisown, and shook hands cordially with the man that had held his father-in-law’s m gauge. He ho'ds it now no longer, of cou! Je longsinee handed it over to Bianeche, who in her turn gave it to her father. But howin the world, you will ask, did this Mr, Brower become as Clay in the hands of this beau iful and ingenious potter, Miss Blanche? That L her various charms and eapabiliiies to make | ino matter of astonishment, Besides, peo- ple have no room for amazement on any other | subject than the one of Mr. Henry Howe's | arrying Miss Purdy—not the préity Miss | Purdy! GOAT-IN-THE-VPRONT-YARD, | _ There are few things more devastating than | a goat-in-the-front-yard. It lays waste the | flower-bed and devours the croquet arches, LE the F lounges on the front y tain to nibble them, and without eonsumt " bes! remedy fora the-front-yard is still an open que: . Any attempt to drive him out witn elubs is sure to end disas!rously, | Either he tramples down every yestige of | Hower or shrub, or be turns upon the driver | and butts all interest iu life out of him. There | goat is eer- n leaves them What is che Was once a globu:ar man—one who was so fat that his summit was as high above the ievel of | the sea when he was lyingon his back as it was » was standing on his feet. This maa drive a goat out of his froat yard aud Was butted for several consecuiive tours. It is weil known that when a goat has onze knocked a man down he stands ever hin, but refrains from resuming the attack until | his vietim is on his feet -. The globular man Was knocked down at the first blow, aud remained perieetly quiet; but the goat, per- ceiving that his v t’s height remained un- diminished, imagined that the attempt to knock him had failed, and so went athim again. The perseverance that animal showed did him infinite credit. Having taken the contract to Knock the man down, he deter- mined to butt it out on that line if it took all day. Blow after blow was rained upon the an- fortunate globular Person, who was gradually rolled across the lawn until he broagat up against the wooden casing around the cis- tern, It took the goat nearly an hour to butt him through this casing, but he ultimately suceeeded, and when the man was subse- quently taken ont of the water he Was found to be flattened to a uniform thickness of two inches. He may, however, have been more malleable than an ordinary man. As for poisoning a. goat, all ve that itis impossible neat tin cans, he beefsteaks, and mince mpunity, ¢. naturalists p skirts, boarding how not. be affected by any lly substances. Strychnine, arseui: and even prussic are to the goat nothing € than spices, and haye no other elfect that of stimulating his appetite. Of course, it is impossivie to shoot a , but, unfortunately, a gun makes a loud report aad attracts the attention of the neighbors. It is curious provision of nature that S$ are Ways owned by large and athletic [risamen. sight, consumptive [rishman often owas chickens and pigs; but he never owns a « Now to shoot a goat, is to invite ay from a vigorous and igerent Lrishman, nd ifamanis to be butted, the goat will do it more artistically and with better taste than his owner. Since, theo, a goat in the front an neither be driven out nér poisoned, annot be shot without extremely un- asant consequences, it really seems as theugh the evil were incurable. There is, indeed, one remedy which has been extensively advertised, aud whici is henestly believed in by many persons have never tried it. It {s known as the diie apple cure. The victim of a-the-front- yard leaves a busbel of dried apis anda buckeiful of water where they wiil attract the jon of the animal. The goat eats the dried apples, drinks the water, and immedi- ateiy begins to swell. He swells to enormous dimensions, and fina:ly—so it said—explodes, with a tremendous report, and is seattered ail over the country in pleces too small to admit of the identification. Of course, the explosion is heard by the neighbors, but the instan- taneous disappearance of the goat removes all ground for suspicion. There is aman in Oshkosh, Mr. C. L. Bib cock. formerly the eflicient and popular third assistant clerk in the Lumbermen’s and Cat- Fishes’ National Bank, who lately heard of the dried-apple remedy and resolved to try it. He sent toa Chit provision store and ob- tained a bushel of dried apples of the most virulent characier and placed them, together wiih the supplementary bucket of ‘water, in his front parior, so that he could enjoy the plosion without going out of doors. Mr. Bab- cock had been exceedingly troubied by goats, and was particularly proud of his front yard, which he had laid ous with great care and had surrounded with a fence of novel pattern and arly in the morning the expected t butted the frout gate open, entered the was lured into the parlor by the display op skirt, and ate the apples. He was an exceptionally long and narrow soa’, aud Was so persistently thin that it was generaily thought that nothing, not even silver-piaed forks, could fatten him, fu due time he deank half the bucket of water and began to swell. Mr. Babcock was ineestacies. He lit his cigar and sat on the front piazza, looking through the window, and, with his watch in his hand, noting how long it would be before the ex plosion. There probably never Was a goat who swelled so tremendousiy as did that par- ticular goat. At the end of ‘an hour he was— as Mr. Babcock is prepared to swear—at least fifteen feet in circumference. Neverthe less, the looked for explosion did not oecur, neither did the goat seem to feel uneasy. He roamed around the room, knocked down the furni- ture, and occasionally butting the piano. The disgusted Mr, Babcock would have tried to drive him out, but had the dvor or the win- goat panded oat. could not have passed through either of them. In his desperation the disap- pointed man tried to shoot the animal, but the shot rebounded from his elastic sides and shat- tered the mirror. There was,nothing to be done but to wait until the Lee should regain his usual proper tions, and ‘them to try to drive him out of the room. That swelled goat never collapsed. He is still fifteen feet in circumference, and he caa- not be got out of the parlor wi.hout previous- ly tearing down the wall. People come from all parts of the country to look at that goat, and Mr. Babcock has beea sued by an Lisn- man for feloniously taking possession of his goat and refusing to return it—[.V. Y. Times, THERE'S wany afossil Woo st s ear iis door ill. With tears, bitver te And bell w. For the trode ha Because he will ny sack Repuslt “1 wait in y: naugut will Ke money on ustist ad vers i Che has guoas to Or would borrow cash in, sir, Recor ler, AN OprUum- Ear. IBLE D2arH.—Mes, | Rachel Var deroii boat faty years | of age, living ai Totowa avenue, Pat-rson, met With a shocking accideat yesieday, Watcu re- sulted in her dea h. She ‘was sdditted to ibe use of opium, ard it Is supposed chat wiile under the ce oF the uarende she arose | about 12 o'el pudity Michi aid lighced a kerosene lamp. Aimo-t immediately she knocked the lamp over and the burning oil went over her civthing aud set it comp'eiely on fire. She was instautuncously enveloped ina blaze and the paia aroused her to an ap- Preciation of her couditiou. In reply to her Pitiful appeals for assistance her ‘husband came to rescue and tore oif her clothing. See amas was teeribiy burne troa B Le jown ani esterday fo.encon—[N. ¥. World, 19th. " He wiped | dono know; but I have said enough about ; An animal that | common roof or coyering of thatch made dows been twice as large as they were, the ex- | ol F ‘A owing to their non-observance of this preeau: that almost swept the floor, and some short | | | insects’ nests: in the | | | | | | \ | | | pie to any extent wich | | pout eae. NATURW’S TEACHINGS. rj fcientife Inventions That Have Ben Antic’ pated in the World of Nature—Some Interesting In- starces, Ina curious and instructive book which we have just read, entitled * Nature Teachiags,” by Mr. Wood, we are shown that scientific in- ventions, no matter how original and in- genious they ma: bees to de, have each and all been anticipated in the world of nature. Countless inventions have been made by | | man without his having any knowledge of the fact that the machine, which in its first idea sprang from a single brain, and was giter- ward, during the progress of time, slowf} im- | proved and perfected perhaps by many sue- cessive generations of inventors, had been in use in nature in a more perfect form than art could accomplish for ages before man existed on the earih. — There is scarcely a principle part in architecture that has not its natur: floors, towers, doors and hinges, porches, eaves and windows, thate slates and tiles, girders, ties and buttresses bridges, dams, the pyramid, and even mortar, paint and varnish, are all there. The Esqu maux snow-house is an exact copy of the dw +!l- ing the seal builds for her. tender yous the wasp’s nest is composed of several'stori supported on numerous pillars. The. w kuown instance of the building of the Crystal Palace on a “new principle,” by Sir Josepn Paxton, is mentioned by the anchor, ‘and is | one of the many eases wi vn has eon fessedly copied na‘ure in art: for that baat ful structure of fron and adaptation of ‘he frame wor! leaves of the Victoria regia plant, whi- owing to its formation, combines at strength with great apparent fragili y. 7 fhe preseu Eddystone Lighthouse, which jias so long withstood the foree of the waves, was constructed in 176 by Sinea‘on on. an entirely new idea, the model being taken from a tree trunk, and the $ ones of which it wis biilt being’ sirengihened by being dovetaiied into one another, as is the case with the sutures of the skull. ‘The study of the eye of man, as well as of birds, quadrupeds and insects, has shown how the most beautiful and gradually-improved inventions, such as the teleseope, microscope, pseudescope, stereoscope, multiplying-glass, ete., had airéady been ass is simply an of the enorat vas PERFECTED IN NATURE FOR AGES. By the combination of a few prisms and a wagnifying-glass is produced that most won- derful of all optical instruments, the spectro- scope, Which equally reveals to'us the con- stituents of the most distant stars or the coloring matter of the tiniest leaf; and yet the prismatic colors developed by this mar. velous instrument have exisied equally within the glorious arch of the rainbow and in the tiniest Sow aro as it glitters in the rising sun, eversince the sun first shone and the first rain fell. In the arts of peace we must Look to “he ani ma! World for the most perlect. specime tools for digging, cutting or boring. N. is equal to the foot of the mole; and our meis and pincers look elumsy inde the woodpecker’s beak or the lobste Moreover, the dwellings, in the con of which Sueh tools are’ emptoyed, els of beauty and ingenuity. Symietrieatly- shaped pottery made of moulded mud or elay found in Nature in the form of birds and _ jaws of, the skate is found the crushing-mill, and in the tooth of the elephant the grindstone. In the iehneu- mon-fly and the grasshopper was perfected from the first the modern agrieultural im provement on the hand-dibble, the seed-driil tis only of late years that the use of the tea- sel has been superseded by machinery; and brushe: mbs, buttons, hooks. ey pers, filter: all found in ) prine bell and air-tubs ex in varieties of insect: irds make beds a hammocks and cvyen sew, and the bower-bird emulates us in the constriction of ornamental bowers and garde! 3 ful fans exist in plants and inst athe travelers’ | tree and the ¢ hy and natural examples of the ‘achute. INTE 6 EXAMPLES. ete. ple of the divin: > STI In other varieties of art Nature has stolen a march on man; cert n insects make paper of difterent textures; the art known as “Nature pling” was anticipated in the coal meas- Star-stippling, as now used in engray- ing to produce extra softness of effect, exists in-utmost perfection in every flower-petal. The caddis-worm, eemmon in all fresh waters, constructs for itself a cireular window grating which admits the water and yet prot he pupa from injury—an apparatus exactly like the wheel-windows ofa Gothi building, There is a bird in South Africa, the Sociable Weaver- bird, which may be looked upon as a dweller in cities, each pair, apts the number of per- haps three hundred, building its own nest; | While the whole community unite to form a | from a coarse kMfd of grass, their habitations from the heavy tropical rains, The Diiver-aunts, also found in At | rica, are so sensitive to the fierce heat of the sun that, when on their marches th are obliged to Cross open ground, “they con sStiuct as they go on a stixht gallery, which | looks very much like the lining of a tunnel | stripped of the surrounding earii;” and, if they come to thick grass which makes a shelter for them, they take advantage of if, and only resume the tunnel when they emerge ou ¢ other side. it less wonderful than any ot | these are the Trap-door spid of whie tion has been before made in this Journ making their nests, they begin By sin shaft in the ground; it is then ilned wit silken web, and closed by a cireular do. Which can searcely be distinguished from the moss and lichens which grow around. Tue hinges are most exactly fitted, and the spid has an exiraordinary power of cosing. his door from the inside, and resisting all intra- sion. It is curious that,as we advance in the seale of creation, these wonderful dwellin ss cease. Strange to say, the creature which roams at will through the forest, and has no settled resting-piace, is higher in the scale of hfe—aceording to the recognized scheme of naturatists—than the animal that is meehani- aly capable of constructing the most perfect abode! Mr. Wood reminds us that, though the march of science has destroyed much of our belief in the sweet old tales of fairy-land, yet she has given us ample compensation, in is- much as the “fairy tales of science” are in reality more full of grace and poetry thau any of the iyths that delighted our childhood.— (Chamber's Journal. to protect One Thing at a Time in Honse- work. n doing housework system is absolutely ssary. Perhaps we are called upon to put the children’s bedroom in order. At first sight it seems a hopeless task; but let us take one thing ata time. First, we will pile all of Har- ry’s blocks and pieces ‘of wood {nto his wieel- barrow. This is one thing done. It makes a difference in the looks of the room already. Now gather up May's toys into her basket, and that will add considerable to the stock of xeod Now make the bed. Already order rises from chaos. After the washstaud arranged om must be swept. To begin with, we will sprinkle tea-leaves over the car. pet. That will keep the dust from rising, and will keep the colors bright and fresh. Let us pick up all the threads, strings anb bits of th first, as it is hard to sweep them up, and wears the'earpet badly. Do not take too long a sweep with your broom, and above all things, avoid fourishes—that is the girl's style of sweeping. Let us throw up the window, and allow as much dust as posible to go out that way. Lo not brush too hard, or you will roll up a ball of wool from the carpet by the time you have done, which will be just so much taken outof the warp and wool of it. When the dusting is done we shall bave a fresh, tidy room. You see that all work is easy if systean atically done. Now a lesson on another disa- gieeable household duty—dish-washing. Keep the outside of the plates clean by removing all the crumbs and scraps before packing them. The dish washing of some housekeep- ers must be very disagreeable and tedious, tion. Stack the table dishes, like-to iike in the order of their size, in the dish pan, and the cooking dishes in another, immediately pour- ing hot suds through them all. Puncture one corner of the dish-cloth with a fork, and, wind- ing the tines up. in it, like a cocoon, wash the dishes with it, wetting the hand bu momentarily during the whole operation. After pouring on the rinsing water—which have very hot—remove them In stacks to an- other pan, and pee them on their edges about some tall dish to dry and drain. and drain forks and spoons by themselves in By foliowing these direc:ion the pitchers. ctiag ean be made less irk- 3. process of dish-wa some than it us} How To Get Rip oF FLIEs.—We believe th t the witty man of the Burlington /fck eve was trying to be serious when he wrot the folowing paragraph: years ago a Philadelphia clergym in d dote for flies, or at least he sai bad oceasion to change nis know just what the Peovab'y he coufd vot pay the rent, or perhsps his rela. tives out West, who were coming ty see the Centennial Exuit n, found ous his ad tress, and wiete to him tac they count not endure i any longer with: ut seeing hin, and would vi ithim ali summer—at any rate he moved. He had in bis ho wean bid of house gens abd sect them to rw house he day befo e he moved, jately he Was beset wit, swarms of although he bad previeusty e:joyed perfect im. munity from these pests.” did when he got moved, wed setlec down among his window Pints again, the fics ceased jv trouble kim. Cis aS mply and a v. ry pleasant experimen’. it it fails to drive away the tlies, you will at least succeed in filling your house with plants, whieh is a pleasant thing to do, as it will keep y wempioyed ail the time in caring for them, a you will have plenty of time for vain segrets when the plants ail freeze along about Christmas. But there may be something in it. We have the word of aclerzyman for fi, and we do not see why even a clergyman shod tella fibabout such a litle thing as a fly.” | her associates? She was intimate with a | with the arms, l | Hen of the | Which she posse: A DEAD WoOM1N'S ARMS, (New Ocleaus Picayune’s Paris Letter.) The pelice have for some time been bus; penetrating re ‘na furnished lodging house of Rie Polivean the two arms of a woman were found. The chamber in whien they were found had been occupied by “a student.” The oaly clew to their identification was the pecuiiar ¢! Which they were wrapped, and wit evideutiy formed pari of a’shirt. It derfully easy to diseover crime and the co nal. A detective, alluding to this, once said tome: “ Depend upon it, sir, all crimiuals are fools with a cireumbendibus shacis, witha sort of cunning which seems intricate, but ts only a “cireumbendibus.” Certainly here was a crime which seemed jikely to adie tae Police ; yet note by wi rapid anatysis every step of it was traced. There were som chances that the arms belonged to a medicv’ student (the section of the shoulder hat evi. dently been made by a surgeon) who wished to play a practical joke. He could hive got ten the “subject” only from some hospital. The history ofevery body at the hospitals was traced. It was demonstrated these” arms came fromno “subject.” While this invest. gation was going on, inquiries were made in another direction, what woman was missed by her neighbors? There are da ten or tweive mysterious disappearances fn Paris. The police are extremely skeptical in consi ering any of them “mysterious.” If i “tis to. fo. with men; debtors di pear fo aveid ereditors ; others disappear fc, re love of adventure; others to. silen¢ scandal ime has rarely any share in the events, Every missiag Woman was traces ove only excepted, Mane. Gillet Wao were maker. He was arrested. The evidence wis strong again-t him; clothing exactly like thar in which the body was wrapped was found in his poss hat was the motive whic’ led him to assassinate her! Wh re was her money? 1 confided her business transactions was pealed to for information. agent and collector. The practiced eye of tue police at once discovered something sus i usin the manner in which he gave informa- lion. He was arrested. His lodgings we searehed, The other part of the shir, from whieh was torn the purtion which was fou yin his wardrobe. Tne lnd- ging-house keeper of Rue Poliveau recoznized him as the “student” who had occupied a chamber in her house. In face of the evi- hat could he do but make a full con- He said the remainder of the bot was in a trunk at Angers. There it w. found. He, with the cowardice and pertidy of all criminals, revealed the name of nis ac. complice,—a medical student, whose acquaint- ance he had made at college, and with wim he had long been intimate. T. jieal student had the nerve to deliver a pabii ture in Paris three weexs after the cr while ihe newspapers were filled with police’ ‘The general agent collector said he wanted some mone # sure stroke on the Stock Exchanye. had asked Mme. Gillet to lend him the d,—her whole foriuae, He resolved to murder her aad get the money. He invited her to his roomon business. AS she came in he felled he: aerowbar. The medical stadent plunged his Distouri into her heart and spine. She died without a struggle, without consciousness of her f. The general agent and medical are both ilies. Tae ner is a son mber me ut near Angers, The latter is the only chi'd of an excellent painter, who Frofessor of Drawing in the Ang His mother is a daughter, or sister, in-law to some of the most emineut phy Money? AD Ile was a genera! refused. of Angers and its ne! 1. Tae medical student's paren! rs heartrending. They i a smal bat ning cottage about a mule from Angers. While weeding his garden the father saw the letter: and Went to th meet him. The letter-earrier sai to-day nothing for you but r The mother joined the father. s . No letter?’ " They had been expee.ing a iet ter from theirson.” They walked together to wards the house. The husband read his ne ws uper. “Read me everything about crimes, aid the mother, Like most Women she takes the deepest interest in crime and in criminal trials ; they are stories which have the spice of truh. The husband presently’ exclaimed “Ah! here is a crime which promises to be deeply interesting,—the Mystery of Rie Poliveau.’ It i yet kKpowh whether or no itis an assassina Then he read particulars of the crime which the newsp gave. Day after day they eagerly re. newspaper. They took the deepest in the crime. One morning the wife caine down-stairs later than usual. She saw h husband outstretched in his arm-chair, mo- tionless, pale as death, The newspaper Was: his feet, open, crumpled. She ran, p: arms round her husband. “Good h she exclaimed, trembled convulsively, spread his hands be- fore im as if to repel some horrid phaniom, nd gasp Dou't—don't read the. news’ i aper—I beg it of coe She did read; and, having read, she fell on her knees, and, cou vulsively elasping her drow, whiea’s if “twould split, “she serea : God, we have lived too long! mother had read the secret of t of Rue Poliy The assassin son, their ov ther and * Mystery was their Impressions America Schools. In New-York, as in Boston, the efficiency of the whole sysiem largely depeuds on tne 1 periniendent and his assistants, Tae work of these gentler me to be far less m+ chanic a Majesty's Inspectors or of the School Bo: spectors in England. It is not their p duty to “examine and report; they are em. powered and required to “promote the enici +n- cy” of the schools. If a Supervisor iu Boston or an assistant Superintendent in New York, or the Superintendent in either city, thinks that there might be some improvement in the existing methods of teachlug reading, he is able to get his improved method tried in one of the schools, and he watches the results. If he wants to make a still bolder experiment and to give a special character to the discipline and teaching of a whole school, he is able, with- in the limits of the regulations of the board, to ascertain how the experiment will work. When I was in New-York 1 visited a primary school in which one of the Assistant Superin- tendents had made an experiment in order to discover whether it was not possible to secure far greater promptness and accuracy in the intellectual activity of the children’ than is common in schools of the same kind. The principal teacher, a lady who gave me the im- pression that she possessed unusual abi ity and vigor, entered heartily into his scheme; her assistants were equally zealous. The re- sults, whatever their merit, were certainly as- tonishing. The intellectual drill of the child- ern was absolutely perfect. There was some- thing almost preternatural in the readines: with which they answered every question th was putto them. They exploded as soon as Free they were touched; and the answers were al- Vays as definite and exact as if they had seen mathe- ed by a committee of lawyers or niaticlans. I watched several clas: in ditterent subjects metic and geography—and what s most extraordinary was the fact that every child in eve: Ss was equally keea, eqaaly clear, equal wily alert. My frie td the ‘Assistant eriniendent, who went through the school with me, was'a little disap- pointed when I expressed the fear that, in the jong run, the ehildren might suffer from the extreme tension to which their minds were subjected. The mistress, who was naturally very proud of the results she had achieved, Was equally disappointed. I argued that the atmosphere of the school was so electric and so stimulating that the children seemed to me to have lost the characteristics of childhood. The lady replied, * TO are New-York child- ren; this is the way we live in New-York.” I rejoined that I had seen nothing like it in Chi- cago, and that I supposed that Chieazo was as “alive” as New-York. It happened to be the first school I had seen in New-York, or I might have told ker that in the schools of New- York itself I had seen no extraordinary activ- iy elsewhere. To make my peace and get off with a moderate degree of credit, I was obliged to plead that, being an Englishman, I was nec- essarily conservative and Puiesmatle. Tspent an hour or an hour and a half in this school, but was so astonished and confounded by what Isaw that I was unable to form any concep. tion of the peculiarities of method by which these very remarkable results were produced. 1 ar:angéd to visit the school again, and to spend several hours there in order to, tind out the secret. This visit was reserved a$ a kiad vnne bouche for my last day in America, and it was a great disappointiaent to me io discover, when I rang the be.!, that, as the City electicns were going ou taat day, the school was closed —[R. W. Dale in Nine- teenth Century. reading, THE MISSOUMI GREENBACK AND Lanox RE FOkM CONVENTION, At Si disia, Missouri, was adcpied a platform’ demanding the repeal of the resumption act and the issue of green: backs equai to go'd and silver, au amend sn! to the constitution restraining Congeess from exempting any prope:ty from taxaiiou and frem granting any subsidies, denounces Diesen sysiem of eonvicl labor, urging Pia! tre goveri vt bui'd,own and control the St. L uls and Sau Francisco raiiway, u.ges meas. Us iD Wise the health aud suley of nose @ gaped im wis acturiig and build ig pursuics, opp cheap labor, und pronounces’ .euinst strikes and all vin‘ent ineaswies for he retief of lavor. State ofl cers Wele homina ed. Two Suppose RAvisHers LYNCHED.—Pear- aud Said ev, who, it is sapposed. out the person. of Mrs. Groves, near Miteielv Teun. op May 16, were ten from ! fie'd jail at o4e o'elock Thursday one hundied armed meu. ine jai'er apore- hended uo attack. He was compeided to vive »p the keys. The men were taken five miles fm the town and han; Doubt existed x to th: r guilt, and both protested tieir in- cence, s ines e Spring: ruin ¢ by “he mystery of Ruz Polivean. | putlished volume of “Memorial and Biozrap The person to whom she | with | ANECDOTE OF J. B, BOOTH. Mr. James Freeman Clarke, in his recent! cil Sketches,” relates an aneedote of Jamius Bratus Booth, which, if it is old, has not for | many yeais found its way into print. | Mr. Clarke was, at the time of his story, preaching in Louisville, Ky. On the 4th of January, 18st | he received a nore, dated at th | Hotel in that city, Inquiring whe: h | interment could be graated in the charel: | to certain of the actor's friends, and aso w | would be the expenses attendant on the pur | chase of such a place of temporary repose. Mr. Ciarke answered the note in person, and Was cordially received by Mr. Booth. clor | read “The Ancient Mariner” and seve ra! poet ieal extracts. Then, rising in a very solemn manter, and taking one of Uh a candles, Boo'h said ,Would you like to look at the re. Tassented. Asking our s friend ( companion) oe: Mr. Booth led me into an adjoinin amber, Tlcoked toward a bed in the corner of the room, but saw nothing the Booth went to another corner of the room, where; spread out | upon a large sheet, I beheld to my surprise about a bushel of wild pigeons. “ Booth knelt down by the side of the birds, and with evidence of sincere affection began to mourn over them. He took them up tenderly in his hands, and pressed chem to his heart, For a few moments he seemed to | | forget my presenc For this, | was glad, for | itgave me a little time to recover from my astonishment, aud to consider rapidly what j might mean. "At first [ thomgat it was a ho: an intentional piece 1 fun, of which | 1 Was to be the object. ided that this | could not be. Teonsidered that as a joke it | would be too poor in i self, and too unworthy aman like Booth, SoT deciled hatit was a incere convic {a @ conviction wi ht respect. “T alsasaw the motive for this particalar | | course of action. During the w.ek immense ies uf wid pigeons had be-n flying in their Way to and from a roost |in the neighvorhood. These birds had bi | Slaughtered by myriads, and were for sale by | the bushel at the corners of every street in the | city. Although all the birds which could be killed by man made the smallest impression | on the Vast multitudes contained in one of these flocks,—computed by Wilson to consist | sometimes of more than 2.200,000,000,—yet to | Booth the destruciion seemed wasteful, wan- | ton, and, from his point of view, was a Willful | and barbarous murder. | ST could nor but feel a certain sympathy with his humanity. [twas an error ia a gool direction. If ity, it was better than the cold, he nf most men. the time,’ t voth was ready to s prepared to answer. You see,’ said he, ‘these inaocent vietims | of man's barbarity. I wish to testity in some | pub ie w gaitist this wanton destruc ion | Twish you would heip me. Will I replied. ed someth ‘Lexpec 1 d at from shis whe ceived your | 1 did not come to y cing to be stat the fune muities of or did I send for you, he answered. ‘I ly Wrote to ask in the | grave yard. But no} hy | f ed with you in s . L might perhaps have the courage to at my couviesons. Ba do not look at itas you do. I respeet your cua Victions, but do not share them.” “He thavked me, and I took my ic ex | ceedingly astonished by the incident, but “also interested in the earnestness of couvietion of the man, “I heard in a day or two that he actually purchased a lot in the cemetery two or three miles below y, had acottin made, hired hearse and ¢ nd had gone through all the solemnity of a regular funeral. For | several days he continued to visit the grave | of his little friends, and mourned over them | ith a grief which did not seem at all theat- | wi med Do you fear y not help me! ee laugh Ireturred regaid to the sub, rical. \@ “In a week or less the tendency to derange- | ment in Booth became more developed. One night, when he was to act, he did not appear; | He did not | nor Was he found at his lodging come home that night. Next morning he was | \ found in the woods, several miles 5 city, wandering in the snow. His derange- | meut proved to be temporary, and his reason | returned in a few days. He soon after left the | city.” 8 | Cultivating Chestnuts and Walnuts. Some time ago there appeared in an Ohio journal, we do not now remember which, a communication from the late Dr. Kirtland, in relation to the cultivation of chestuuts. He raised in his garden from seed, the Freach | Spanish and Italian chestnuts, some tweaty years ago hohe transplanted, aud wht: when ten years old commenced be ig Crops. He thoughit they will pay well to cultivate, aud | also recommended the shelibark hiekocy-nut for cultivation. He says the three kinds of chestuuts named are about equal in quality. Is this true?) We find that the Frenen is sa- | ‘ior to either the Spanish or Malian, and we lieve this to be the general opiaisn. But [neither of them equa's in ‘quality oar | own natives, though twice or three times as large. Wiiile on the subject, we desire to add that we have often been surprised that farmers do | not give some attention to the growi chestnuts apd English walnuts, which ¢ prown in (his latitude. Ou aims. evecy farm | isa plot of ground that is useless for facming | purposes. Chestnuts will grow aimost where, however poor and stony the hay 3 | doubt the French variety is inore profitable, i marketable t r ually grafted on our ive | vari we have heard of at least une | Variety that reproduces the same frait from | the seed. Of course the chestuu's must be planted soon after it falls from the buc and efore it gets dry ; or if kept tll spring it must | remain in afresh conditien. They gcow about | as readily from the graft asthe apple or the | pear. Even for home use a tree or two of the ‘rench is very desirable. Plant them, protect them from the cattle, and let thei alone; and in course of time the fruit will come in abun- | dance. As tothe English walnut, we consider this | fuit as more profitable to cultivate than the chestnut. The tree grows readily, atfords good shade, willecommence Be produce) regular crpps of fruit in ten years, and will add to the quant, each year as the tree increases in | size. The fruit is much sought after in its | green state for pickling; and in ils ripe state tis better than those imported. Its quality every one relishes, The price it commands at the fruiters will always doubly repay all trouble and expense aitending the gathering and marketin; g Bs) z = FS n, and I determined to treat | t | man | 485, 601 and 603 Pe As tothe “sfettbark,” we would not recom- mend it for cultivation, exceptin places where | it will Occupy Space uot needed for farming operations. "It requires, however, pretty good land like other fruit trees growing to any con- siderable size. Tnese should be grown from the seed, plauted as soon as the nut fa ls from the bur, in the spots where they are desired to stand. They should never be moved. We do not adyocate the cul'ivation of these nuts as a particular branch of farming, only 5 jonal source of profit where the ble and to spare. As a means of | slic comfort, two or three trees of each | variety named are very desirable.—[ German- town (Pa,) Telegraph: “The Raven.” The house where ‘* The Raven” was written stands on a rocky and commanding eminence, a few hundred feet from the corner of Eighty- fourth street and Boulevard avenue, New York, formerly the Bloomingdale Road. It is a plain, old-fashioned, double-framed dwell- ing, two stories high, with eight windows on each side and one at either gable. While in this place and previous to the appearance of “The Raven,” Poe's child-wife, Virginia, for whom he had come to feel a deeper affection than that of fraternal love, was prostrated by a serious illness. Animation was at times, in deed, seemingly suspended, and on one dreary December night, the poet was agonized to fin her cold and breathless, and apparently dead. In his lonely, silent vigils, in wnat was, to all intents and pur) s, the presence of death, many strange imageries and much bitter self-accusation naturally possessed him. Al- though latterly devoted to his wife, he had caused her pain in the first yearsof his married life by his romantic admiration of other wo- men ; ard an apereraied sense of wrong done to his lost loved one, through his neglect, not unnaturally came to him at this time, exci.ing the most irrational remorse. In picturing to himself his wife as departed, his remorse also forbade him any hope of meeting her in the distant Aidenn of the future. With the added factor of some fugitive bird or pe: (che Poes always kept them) breaking in upon his reveries with some slight interruption which the poet's disiu:bed fancy exaggerated int» some supernatural visitant an adeq vate basis for this masterpiece is found. * * * Poe got $10 for * The Raven,” not in those times, it would seem, asum so absolutely insiguiticant as has been alleged by some of his biozra phers, for, it must be remembered. it appe red anonymously as original y publis .ed.—[ Gils Life of koe. WISDOM APPLIED TO Ice WaTex.—We guz- zie ice water with our meals aud :hus se2d fresh food upon chilied and inac.ive orgin . We keep pouring in cold draugats bet ivoen meals, uot allowing what we have eaten to digest, but bod it in the stomach to decay and destroy. Let families recognize the iru be wise in ime. Drink as iitde as jossi 9s hot weather, aud let what is drank ve not un- @aturally cold.—[ Balt. News. EXxGL SH WOMEN of fashion a:¢ fa'ling into the Way of reovguizinga gentlem.. vy giving @ pert nod wih the head, instead of 4 sight bow vith the head and shoulders. It appears that the Priucess of Wales has le! the fair sub jJezts of her hu b:nd’s mother i/o this sloyen- sy habit, v ith. ut intending to do so, p? a lide nt ‘rick sie has of thus recognizi: timate fclends whom she has seen Sate ur twice be- fore in the day. | ___ RAILROADS. Bs ORE ANO OMLO MAsLBOAD, THE GREAT DOUBLE TRACK, NATIONAL ROCTR AND SHORT LINE To THR NORTH, SOKTHWAST, WEST AND SOUTH. WEST, TO TAKE EPPRCT SUNDAY. Jone 9 1878 at 4450, m, LRAVE WASHINGTY m.— ow York. Philadelphia. and Roeton Rais sa ere PF iivatt City, On Sunday Btop- at Soipleys, Laurel, Annapalts Junc- Havover, aud Kix ridge sod War. om, nore, Annap (Cranberry. Str , Winchester, Hagerstow: and Wy via Relay.) 22:40— Balthuoore and Laurel Express, . Cranberry, Stras- Was Chast We se . PHILADRLPHIA, B. IMORK EXPRESS. PARLOR CAR Philadelphia, Slops st Annapolis Louts, Chieago, € <, Hagerstown ai Through Car to 8 except Bunda MAN CaR Wo Cl. dusky. daily, excep! Satarday, -* On Suuday ouly, Baitimora Annapolis Jtmone Express. Laurel, Aus ver, Stops at Bia- Pol Ss Junction LADKLERIA AND “nm Sundats te Haltimore ~ pate Stop st Laurel, imere, mlemetot a. aed are) Express. Freserick vis Reay. 80 ps a Annspuls ene! nt of Rocks. Frederick, Hagers- Tand Way Siations on Sundays and Way Stations omy, Ratimore, Annapolls and ‘Way Sta- +5:30p.m.— Philadelphia, Norfolk and Baltt Express. “Norfolk except Sunday, Nowron PASSENGERS TAKEN IN THE CAuS Dinwct BOAT AT CANTON, Stop at Bladensburg aul Laurel. ‘18:50—Baltimore and Way Stations. {TAB—CHIC'GO AND COLUMBUS EXPRESS, SUREPING Caks to Chi Baltimore Express. . Louis. Cincinnatt, Loutsviile and Pitts- burg Express, Pittsburg, except Sunday, Pull- 18:30 p.m.—Nuew YORK, PHILADELPRIA AXD BALTIMORE EXPRESS. SLEEPING CAR to New and SPECIAL SLERPING CAR to Philadel rf . Other trains dally excep! Sunday, All trains stop at Relay Station. f Allthrough tratus will stop at for passengers to and from f Ty Springs, at Deer Park amd Oakland b log thie = on, For further information apply st the Baltimor aud Ohio Ticket Oflcer, Wachee i station ane nsyivania avenve and 613 street northwest, Washingto and Maso = Tene ple High street! Goorgetowt, “whore” orders wit be taken for baggege to be checked and recelyet CN MENTS Master of Tra . Ls NTs, Master of a tation, L.M- COL, General Ticket Agent. et eh0 GEO. 1878 res§ififima 1878 TO THE NORTH, WEST AND SOUTHWEST, Doubie Track. Steel Basis, Splendid scencry, Magnificent Equigment. Sir John’s Ran TRAINS LEAV corner of Sixth and B streets, as follows: For Pitissurg sad the West. 10:10 am. dally, with Parl’. Car to Pitteburg and Sleeping Cart from Pitt<ourg to Cincinnati, St. Louls and Chicago; 7:40 p.m, dally, with Palace Car to Chicago, BALTIMORE AND POTOMAC RAILKOAD, ‘ cl Bugwo, Niagara norch. at p.m daily, except . with Palace ¢ fr and Kunira, a: except Sun“ay, a the Mast. 1:45 3 m, and 9:30 p, Palace Cars atiacued. Limited f Pullman Cars, #:20 a.m. dafly, ex- wit cept Sunday, For New Yori. and the Rast, 1:80 p.m. datiy. ex- cept Sunday, with Sieeping Oxri trom Wash- ington to Boston, "For Brookiya, Ne ¥., ail through trains connect at Jersey Oliy with boats of Brooklyn Annex, affording direct fransfer to Fulton street, avoiding dow riage and Journey scross New York city. For Philadelphia, 1:30 p. m, daily, steept Sunday, ‘and 1:45 s. m., and 6:30 and 9-30 p. m. dally. Limited Express, 9.20 a. m. datiy, exeept Sun- Te Accom inoation for Raltimore, 6:55, 8:30 and 4:20 p. m. dally, except Sunday. ™ For Pope's Creek Line, 6:65 8. m. and $:20 p, ms For Apunpolis. 6:65 a in, and 4:20 ai except Sunday, i — ALEXANDRIA AND _ FREDERICKSBURG KAILWAY AND ALEXANDHIA WASHINGTON RAILROAD ane For Alexandria, 6, 7, 8, 9:10. 10. 11 a.m., 1, 8, 4:20, 6. 6:20. 7 p.m. Qn Sunday at 8:1) alm! Le Lang 7 p.m, For Kicbrnwuu sno the South, 2:45 a m. and © a.m. Gaily Ss: m. dally, except Sunday. Traius itave Alexandria ‘for Wash ngion, 6, 7, 8. 9:10. 10. 11 a.m.; 1.8, 4:20.86 2 anad On Sunday at 80d 10's, wand 6:2) p. m. Tickets, Information, sleeping an verter cuteness commodatious can be procured st the -fces, ROFth- east corner of Thirteenth street and Peunsylvania avenue; northesst corner of Sixth street and Penn- for tbe chee! ol vat ‘Gestina thon from hove) aud Teatteucen eeNee te ,. General Paswnger Agent, FRANK THOMBON. General Movagar sowid —_—_— BOOKS AND STATIONERY. NEW BOOKS FOR JUNE. mel, “by the author of « The Ne Tha’ Hostand of A Pitzer, Letters toa Young 1D. 8 me Ds Shore. Conditional +R. buntingtou. Predest Salvator Muudi, by Samuel Cox, At WM. BALLANTYNE @ SON'S, se10-tr 428 Seventh at.nro. QUIMER READING. Ouidas’ Friendehip........, [lppincott's Magaciie.’ vol "xxi, i878 jemorial au jawed emorial aud Blogray tical Bketchee. ji Bo pe ee ¥ man, her Btebbins. .. mesma oa A study of Mi wortalit, ton, by a8 $8 &S S88 Sg Ss Adventures of au American Consul abroad, ofthe Masssere, AB-BA-BA-KA-The Land ‘arrington . Watch and Ward St. Pever’s Bride, by author M. Daughter. . Love Works Wouders.<...-- achine Coustrue Tompking seen, exe, and Tee Cire ricuee, ed Tramp Series. rankl'n ®guare brar’ ts Makied. cHoguEt. tp allergies. rare SOLOMONS &@ CHAPMAN, JeT-tr 911 Pennsylvania av-nue, THE Woman's BIBLE Mion by Mis Siilth, of Giatchibury. lanelcal scholars, = 1+ M&RLY commmetia~ LATEST PUBLICATIONS. A Synopsis of History, by Sam*l. Willard, - ern Dwerlugs in Towa sud Country be Bete, Holly, Studio, Field and Gallery, by ‘ioilins The Creative Werk, by G. D. Boardman. How to Paint Photgraphs, by G, B. Ayres. Spoctruin Analysis, by J. Norman Lockyer; Inter. Sel. Series. ‘Esther Pennefeather, hy Alice. Perry? Harper's Library of American Fiction. Reaplag the Whirlwind, by author of Old Myddieton = Money. The God Son of a Marquis, by Andre Thea- riet. “Lees Black Than We Are Painted, by James Payn. Deoeivers, Ever; by Mrs. H. Lovett Gain- gron. Is He Popenjoy tA novel, Uy A. Trollope. ‘cram other Poems, fen Longtellow. $1.36. Memolr of ma. WF, Bardett by + $2.00. The Voyage of the Chailen- yvilleThomson, % vois., 8 ¥O0., MOHUN BROS., Stationers, 1015 Pa. av. ee ame pen nN te) Dey 18 myl8-tr Booksellers and EST SWEET B CATAWBA WINE, #1 PER GALLON. JOHN H, MAGEUDER, 1421 New York avenue. jel3-t near U. 8. Treasury Dopartixent, “> PRoresacs POR Ich. Dr rantTMENT oF THE T Wasnt’ GTox. D. © ° Bealed Prepman will be rece m. TUBSDAY, Jone 25th, arnt this Deparment aud its seve: are@us with & dally su; ply «of Kennebec Toe, of the host quality, for the ficcal year endl: g June S0ch. 1879. EieCers wust stare what they will farnish the Ioe for per one bur. dred pounds, to be delivered at suck times ard in web quantities 2% may be required, The bids wll) opened ip the office of the Superin= tendent, in the presenee of sucn bidders as may do sire to attend. Tequired of the suc- Sail factory bond wi'l be consul Lidder, for the faithful perio mane of the miart. “The ight ‘o reject any or all bids is reserved by r ‘the D Y the undersigned, and marked ‘Proposals for aot naar Jel2, 15,19 22 Seeretary of the Interior,