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ee Rerrones ANOTHER PACIFIC COAST PERIL. Suppose the Sleeping Volcanoes Should Wake Up—A Tremendous One Under Lake Tahoe. From tne Virinia City Enterprise. In hundreds of places on the Pacific coast are the so-called ‘‘craters of extinct voleanoes.” So | far as can be seen, these craters are really ex- tinct at the surface, but deep in the bowels of | the earth their fires are probably only siumber- | Ing. In the Bishop creek country are many such voleanoes, and some of them seem to have been pretty lively less than 100 years ago, judg- ing from the fresh appearance of the lava om their sides. there is an oid crater on the big ala above American Flat, surrounding | of lava. e Tahoe | geo) sree, occupies an voleanie crater. This accounts for the immense depth of the lake in the central parts | Though tir aters are spoken ofas extinct, | be one can say wh is dead. A s slumbered for untold ages is start Into life and destr moun- i hey did not ev Alarge popt sof the mountain, which So little ley on the top antain suspected that.” in A. D. thousan ears later—in ruption that whole top of the mountain. By Pompeii and Herculaneum were | | men. Only seven D. 7—oceurred a sudden w out th this outbarst overwh ned. The present is atime of great electrical and subterranean disturbances. We hear of gn thquskes and of volcanoes starting into lite | parts of the world. Even here at home, in Califor have recently been many ‘se- ‘vere ea 3. the first in nearly twenty years that have shown the old-time foree. Al- most any day the tremendous volcano that lies | shunbering under Lake Tahoe is Hable to assert itself. At the first burst all the water In the ld be blown thousands of feet into the air_and with the water all the steamboats, sail- boats and rowboats. Up into the clouds would | ot only go all the boats on the lake, but also | all the it: ers, with millions of tons of | bowls gravel and sediment from the bottom | of the old OF cow the sudden empty- in; basin of the lake would be bad for ate could not be worse than was of Pompeii and Hereulaneum, besides what area few human habitations or a fe in great convulsions of nature. | v of Vi eampe-l in the beautiful bas vines, grass and all were shot is of feet into the air, Over the Tahoe beautiful pool of water, in which are I Jishes, and on which’ are gallant steamers and vessels of all kinds, but the whole ig as a mere bucket of water ed with the | i nd | i | be of the crater is | espast. All this may not | ummer, but it is bound. tobe | it isonlya matter oftime, | ase the ejection ofthe waters of the lake | shail instantly be followed by a mighty column of fire and flames, the water may be turned to steam (in falling back) betore reaching the ground, and so Reno would escape drownins, ami the place only be covered by forty or fifty feet of molten lava. EP nS ‘TME CANARY. Something About the Popuiar House- hold Pet. From the New York Mail. 100,000 canaries are yearly imported Inte New York. From this city the birds are all parts of the country, being re- | according to age and | specimens of these | birds come trom the Hartz mountains in Ger- | many, where millions are bred annually. The birds from St. Andrewsborg, one of the highest Points in these mountains, have the first reputa- tion for pert and beauty of lumage. T! t introduced into z It at once ety and beauty of he music-loving people of | interested avement of the sa songbird has been und that they were ‘re imitative, and in the as- | rapidly acquired In the breeding rooms ngbirds are re as they do th: . thus adding greatly to their rep- | it care is taken in breeding the But, to come nearer | 5, themselves in | d w THE “BLACK HAND.” The Spanish Anarchists—Orizin and Extent of the Movement—Arrests, Trials and Convictions, Etc. There is no more lovely valley in the world than that In which the city of Xeres is placed. Luxuriant vegetation fringes the rivers which traverse it majestically. Vast herds feed on the slopes. Wealth untold and still unsought lies hidden in the rocky soil. A patient population, accustomed to poverty, tillthe flelds in patience, ing to others the fruit of theirlabor, earning for themselyes a scanty subsistence. Middle- men of the class best known in Ireland and ‘ypt gather their rent or serve them with no- tices of eviction. Their landlords are grandes who live in Madrid, buzzing round the court of i ang king Alfa . never moved to visit territories in the south. But there came a time when the peasants refused to recognize the claim of the land- rs—refusedl to pay rent to the middie- ers were against val of crime. Rob- cattie-stealing, incendiar- on of vineyards, moonlight attacks efor months the burden of the news- ning letters were received by the owiers fled from the rural dis- ‘growers of Xeres the l been spread. Many murders were reported in lonely parts of the country: dozens of people mysteriously dis- judges came down with extraordinary powers; civil enards conducted the most rigid gations, but nothing of importance could ned. At last a servant calied on his mas- jm that he was deputed by a secret society to kill him, and gave information where the leaders of the society might be found. On the following night an attack was made ona lonely farm; the assailants, driven off, left one of their number behind, and he, being at the point of death, made a confession attributing the deed to the instigation of a secret society. Hand.” Its leaders were a schoolmaster, ler and abrigand. Its inspiration came defunct “Internationale.” Its plan of action was to tempt the discontented operatives and farm laborers into its ranks, offering them relief in sickness or old age, and’ promising that heir material condition should be improved. Within the circle of casual recruits was formed an inner eircle, gave itself the name of “The Black Hand,” and printed a black hand on every warning missive which it sent out. It held its sessions by torchlight, the members wearing masks. It decoyed its victims into lonely lens, slew and buried them there. It established secret juntas over the entire region, and partly by persuasion, partly by force, compelled 50,000 persons to join its ranks. It boasts it had branches in Murcia Estre- madura and Portugal, and allie, in every socia- listie society in the world. The principles of the Mano Nera are a sort of communism, as may be judged from the follow- ze of their program: “Land,” the; say, “exists for the common good of mankind, and all have an equal right to ita possession; it was made what it is by the active labor of the working classes. The existing social organiza- tion is both criminal and absurd. The workers and the rich do nothing but benetit; only so, but have a hold on the work- ers; therefure it is impossible to feel too deep a hatred for political parties, for all are equally despicable. All property acquired by the labor ot others, be It revenue or interest, is illegiti- mate; the only legitimate possessions are those which result direetly from personal exertions. Consequently our society declares that the rich be held to participate no longer In the rights of man to his fellow, and that to combat th . ail means are good and nece actiy that of the nihilists ssia, and that employed aiso for the an crimesin Ireland. The tenets of the popular or secret tribuaal resemble also those of nihilism. They are headed by W governinent, by its cept the international law, has pre- vented a peaceful solution of the social ques- Ithas become necessary to establish orzanization. tory ns are dally committed which must be punished, and as all the mem- bers of t is being carried out, a popular charged with the condemnation | ment of the crimes of the middle ¢! bers of this revolutionary tribunal must belong to the internattonal leacue, and be capable of executing the task they undertake. The mid- may be chastised in every p y e. poison, or other the 14th century si nglau y similar notions, save the reference to the em- ployment of force. ‘The following words are put into the mouth of a priest. John Ball, speaking in the name of the peasantry, Froi od people things can- not and will not go well in England till all shall be Jin common; that there be neither lord” nor vassal, but we shall be all united. To what good are those we call Lords masters over us? Why do they hold er, which is a difficult task only shed by one t ranghly sant with birds aud the bird voice. The ideal us in bondage? And if we bealldescended from the same tather and mother, Adam and Eve, how can they show themselves better than we, bird voice—the one which is soucht after by the breeders—is one of twenty notes, and is capable | of regularly descending or ascending through | all the notes of the octave, a noisy discord, | but in well-rounded, melodious m song bursting from swelling throat the bird was unable to longer contain himself. | SEES eS ‘The Art of Dining. WHO UNDERSTAND IT AND WHO DO NOT. Brom the New York M: Talleyrand, prince of diplomats, once con- | fesse] that the only man whom he suspected | could read his secret thoughts was his cook. Certa‘r it is that many statesmen while under | the mellowing iniuence of a good dinner and | fine wine lose for the moment somewhat of the ich distinguishes them. Jules Harder, the chef, for many years a resi- t of this city, and now at the Palace hotel, cresting way some | ¢ of our prominent | In conversation he said: ‘I consid nt Arthur the er of any president He eats weil and eats with Judy- ot consid: ch a good liver i the Union Club and he did know how rident from the way he lives now. . Grant dines weil now, but I remember him | at the Grand Unio} he was first made P not know much about fter his trip around the world ovemte’ President | ine at his dinuers, and how to dine. I was ten », was with the Union aU nm Saratoga; in ve prepared dishes people, and_ President | Hayes was the only one I met who did not drink | wine with his dinner. Dom Pedro, the em-| ror of Brazil, is a good plain diner, and lives the French way as to the hours ot meals, but wants Erazilian seasoning. Alphonse | Rothseh of the English house, was/ a beautiful diner. “Governor ’ Stan-|{ ford {s a good plain eater. The Princess Louise and the Marguis of Lorne eat English dishes and the princess adores anchovy paste. Really good livers care for three wines at dinner, sau- | terne. red wine and champagne. Good livers | for a red wine favor Burgundy, but it is some- times changed for a lighter Bordeaux. General Barnes and Mr. J. Bennett care only for champagne. Mr. Jay Gould is a good, regular diner, whom a chef can serve without an order | all the year round if he knows him, but Mr.Van- | derbilt is eccentric and insists on ordering his | own dinners. Of course there is only one Amer- fean mm Ward. New York Is the finest market place in the world, and where | twenty-five years azo but a half dozen New York families employed professional men cooks, now, I suppose, there are over 150 chefs so em- pioyed. Next to New York I place San Fran- ¢isco, for there are a great many there who know how to live and have the money to do 0. = A Walk Across Australia. An adventurous walk across the entire conti- Bent of Australia was completed by George | Ernest Morrison. The whole distance traversed from the gulf of Carpentaria to Melbourne ex- ceeded 2,000 miles, and this was covered in 120 | @ays. Passing through uninhabited wastes, where sometimes intervals of over 100 miles in- tervened between human habitations, he had to carry a swag, with provisions and ap) us for cooking, and this, of course, materially impeded his rate of traveling. He had to carry a supply ry i Part of his way led through a district inhabited by hostile blacks, who, in revenge for being so merctiessly hunted down by the remote settlers, show little merey to any white man who comes im their way. He waiked every inch of the dis- al unarmed, cooking for himself anos as psig Toa eet generally sleeping in Q air, mu: it aes stancot Gr Cocried im bin ‘ewrice: Not- the hardships he endured he fin- ished his tollsome march in robust health. | bread and cakes, while we sleep | Modern Greek,” published in 1819. Byron said save only in that they spend what we earn? They are clothed in silks and camocas. in vel- vets and furs, while we wear the poorest cloth. They have their wines, their savory dishes, good on straw and live ou rye bread and water. They have their manors and palaces, which they enjoy in idle luxury, while we labor in the wind and rain to earn @ seanty nourishment, and yet it is our labor that gives them their plenty.” In Mareh it was reported that the total | Mumber of persons arrested in Andalusia for complicity in the anarchist movement was 1,200. Of this number were charged with being abetters of the Black Hand Society. Sixty of the prisoners up to that time had confessed thelr complicity in four murders. The intorma- tion received by the government shows that the secret societies must lave contained in the provinces of Jerez, Sevilla, and Cadiz alone over nine thousand members, and the docu- ments lists and letters seized, as well as the confession of the adepts of the inner circle, prove that they had admitted into their ranks all the brigands and ticket-of-leave men, un- fortunately very numerous in southern Spain. The documents that have come into the hands of the police at X and Cadiz clearly prove that the leaders of this socialist and anarchist cumpaign, like their compeers in France, in | Italy, and in ‘ia, almed at both political and | economical ends, and were In close correspon- dence with the most noted revolutionists in Switzerland and the other centers of reyolu- tionary action. Their plan seems to have been to develop a state of agrarian agitation, parallel with a movement among the work. ing classes, already much devoted: to the tenets of the Internationale in Madrid. in Bar- celona, in Saragossa and in southern towns, in order to keep such elements ripe and trained for tuture outbreaks or political disturbances. ‘They found in the local condition of Andalusia, in towns and in thecountry, very excellent con- dition to promote their propaganda, and might have slipped detection had they not let loose their ferocious instincts of thelr more degener- ate allies. As usual when detection takes place, the foreign and the-principal native agents of these secret aucieties appear to have bolted, and their pecullar mode of organization only allows the police to lay hands on the local ring leaders and the brutal executioners of the decisions of the Xerez and other branches of the secret junta Very Little Light om a Very Dark Subject. C. Vernon Boys, in Popular Science Monthly. Ishall at once explain what I mean by the term “meter,” andI shall take the flow of water in a trough as anillustration of my mean- ing. If we hang ina trough a weighted board, then, when the water flows past it, the board will be pushedback; when the current of water. is strong, the board will be pushed back a long way hen the current is less, It will not be pushed so far; when the water runs the other way, the board will be pushed the other way. So, by observing the position of the boaffl, we can tell how strong the current of water is a’ any time. Now, suppose we wish to know, not how strong the current of water is at this time or at that.but how much water altogether has passed through the trough during any time, as, for instance, one hour. Then, if we have no better instrument than the weighted board, it will be necessary to observe Its po- sition continuously, to keep an exact record of the corresponding rates at which the water is passing, every minute, or better every second, and to add up ail the values obtained. This would, of course, be avery troublesome pro- ces There is another kind of instrument which may be used to measure the flow of the water: a padéle-wheel or screw. When the water is flowing rapidly, the wheel will turn rapidly; when slowly,the wheel will turn slowly; and, when the water flows the other way, the wheel will turn the other way, so that, if we observe how fast the wheel is turning, we can teil how fast the water is flowing. If, now, we wish to know how much water altogether has passed through the trough, the number of turns of the wheel, which may be shown by a counter, will at once tell us. There are, there- fore, in the case ot water, two kinds of instru- ments, one which measures ata time, and the other during a time. Theterm meter should be confined to instruments of the second class only. ——————————— Senator Fair's New Fiame. From the Peoria Journal. Annie Carpenter, the woman in the domestic infelicity which has recently rent the family of, Senator Fair asunder, has more of a history than has the Oshkosh blonde, now known as Mrs. Tabor, of Denver, Col. The woman who has captivated old Senator Fair and his $10,000,000, isa plump and handsome blonde about twenty-seven years of age. Her complexion is beautifully clear, features regular, but her crowning glory is a magnificent head of crushed strawberry hair. This wayward but successful beauty is @ man who at one time smeared his divine affluatus over the columns of an Indiana news- paper. Thirty years ago Smith was editor and proprietor of the Peru (Ind.) Free Press, of which the Republican, now published in that city, is @ lineal descendant. Before Annie saw the light, her mother left her husband at home in Peru, absorbed in the delights of Journalism, and went to California to see her sister, who was then living in a mining town not far from San Franciset oon after her arrival there Annie was born. Before the infant cut Itsfirst to mother, whose affections appear to have been very fickle, secured a divorce from Smith and married a miner named Carpenter, whose name was given the child. In a few months she lett Carpenter, and journeying east. reached Washington. where she received employment in one of the depart- ments. In the meantime the daughter Annie resided with her aunt, who became greatly at- tached to her. In the course of time her mother returned to California, but the child continued to live with Mrs. Schultz, her aunt. The family weakness for divorces attached to Mrs. Schultz, who procured a legal separation from her hus- band and went to Washington with Col. Sam Baker. There Col. Tom Fitch, ‘the silver- tongued orator of the Pacific slope,” met her, became enamored and finally married her as soon as he could procure a divorce from his wife. With such a family record to back her, and being beautiful withal, it is little wonder that Annie Carpenter early followed the examples set her by her mother and her aunt. She first started out by marrying a San Francisco doctor, who fell desperately in love with her, though he was a man of family. Col. Tom Fitch, who was now Annie’s uncle, procured a divorce for the doctor, who, as soon as he got his decree, took his_new love to Vir- ginia City and married her. The wronged wife had the decree set aside, thus annulling his marriaze with the frisky Annie. Finding her- selt footloose, Annie began to hunt for larger game. After numerous amours, she finally be witched old Senator Fair, and broke up his family. The old man is now tree to marry his enchantress, and will undoubtedly improve the opportunity. She is said to be extremely pretty as well as vivacious. Her mother, when young, was an attractive lady, and her aunt, Mrs Schultz, has been regarded a beautiful woman of many accomplishments, ‘To tho June Bug. You make me fest a little nervouser ‘Than any dog-gone bug I ever se! And you know night's the tlme to pester me— When any teteh at all “ll rub the fur Of all my patience back’arus! You're the myrhh And ruburb of my life. ‘A bumble bee Cain’t hold a candle to you; and a he Bald hornet, with a laminated spur In his hip pocket, daresent even cheep When you're around! And, dern ye! you have made Me lose whole ricks and stacks and piles of sleep— And many of a livelong night I've laid And never 8iut an eye, hearin’ you keep Up that eternal buzzin’ serenadet And I’ve got up and lit the lamp, and clum. On cheers and trunks and washstands and bureaus, And all such dangerous articles as those, And biffed at you with brooms, and never come In two feet of you—maybe skcercd you some— But what does that amount to when it throws A feller out 0’ balance, and his nose G its barked aginst the mantle, while you hum F or Joy around the room, and ‘churn your head Aginst the cellin’, and draw back and butt The plasterin’ loose, and drop—behind the bed, Where never human bein’ even put ‘Harm’s hand on you, or ever trathful sald He’d choked your dern infernal wizzon shutt James WHITCOMB RILEY. —Indianapolis Journal. When to Bathe. From the London Lancet. If the weather be chilly, it says, or there be a cold wind so that the body may be rapidly cooled at the surface while undressing, it is not safe to bathe. Under such conditions the further chill of immersion in cold water will take place at the mornent when the reaction consequent upon the chill of exposure by undressing ought to occur, and this second chill will not only delay or alto- gether prevent the reaction, but convert the bath from a mere stimulant to a depressant, ending in the abstraction of alarze amount of animal heat and congestion of the internal or- gans and nerve centers. The actual tempera- ture of the water does not affect the question so much as its relative temperature as compared with that of the surrounding air. The aim must be to avoid two chills; first, from the air, and second, from the water, and to make sure that the body Is in such a condition as to secure a quick reaction on emerging from the water, without relying too much on the possible effect of friction byrubbing. It will be obvious, there- fore, that both weather and wind must be care- fully considered before bathing 1s begun, and and tribunais. ——— “Hope Told a Flattering Tale.” From the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. A cablegram from London announces that Miss Eva Frost, fourth daughter of General D. M. Frost, of this city, is engaged to be married to Beresford Hope, eldest son of a wealthy com- moner and member of the British parliament. Miss Frost is at present in England, the cuest of her sister, Mra. Molesworth, nee Jennie Frost, wife of the eldest son of Lord Lewis Moles: worth, of Cornwall. General D. M. Frost has been a resident of this city for a great many ears. He served with distinction as general in ine moun any during Soe civil war. His son is ie well-known ex-Congressman, R, Graham Frost. Beresford Hope, the prospective bridge- groom, is a son of Alexander James Beresford Hope, M. P., an author and connoisseur, son ot Thomas Hope, the famous millionaire and noy- elist, author of “Anastasius; or, Memoirs of a he would have given his two most approved poems tobe the author of ‘‘Anastasius.” He married In 1907, Louisa Beresford, a daughter of W. Beresford, Archbishop of Tuam, whom his son and grandson derive their names.- He died In 1831, leaving-one of the es. tates ever owned by a commoner, and one ofthe most magnificent private dwellings in id. ‘The father of the young gentleman to whom ‘Miss Frost is engaged is himself an author of no mean reputation. His principal contribution to literature is a work entitled, “The English Cathedral in the Nineteenth sad Sage ee peer to an English paper, Mr. is rusticating in Wales on weekly stipend of 915.75 trom Sirs, Langtry. Mount tna is now to have a railroad which will go & considerable way up it, and connect many villages lying around ite that the state of the organism as regards fatigue and the force of the circulation should also be considered, not merely as regards the general habit, but the special condition when a bath is tobetaken. These precautions are eminently needful in the case of the young or weakly. arg ig Something About Canton. Miss Isabella Bird writes: ‘Canton is Intoxi- eating from its picturesqueness, color, novelty and movement. As we sat at midday at the five-storied pagoda, which from a corner wall overlooks the Tartar city, and ever since, through this crowded week, I have wished that the sun might stand still in the cloudless sky and let me dream of gorgeous sunlight, light without heat; of narrow lines rich in color; of the glints of sunlight on embroideries and cloth of gold, resplendent even in the darkness; of urrying and colored crowds in the shadow, with the biue sky, in narrow strips, high above; of got as processions, and ‘the voice connected witli the press, being the daughter of | th, its | A Chat with Melville, the Champion of “ the Arena. ' Chicago Herald interview. “There’s a horse that knows as much as a -man. Just look into his face, wi!l you!” It was one hot afternoon at the circus the past week. The big tent was swaying lazily in the breeze, and the hum of 20,090 voices came through the curtain inte the dressing-room where stood Frank Melville, the famous bare- back rider, with his hand on his gray horse's neck. He was dressed in pink silk tights, and carried in his hands a riding whip, with which he switched the sawdust on the and. Around him were a hundred trappings of the hippodrome. The Shetland ponies, gayly sad- dled and bridled, stood sleepily waiting for thelr race. The woman who glides down a rope while holding on by her teeth was trying her muscle on one of the chains that supported the sides of the tent, and two acrobatic artists. one a trapeze actor and the other a performer on the slack rope, stood critically watching her movements. All were resplendent In spangies Ik, she in tights of a delicate blue, and in tights of orange and black and lavender. Yes, sir.” said Melville, as he took his horse's face in his hands, “he knows as much as a man. See how steady his eye 18 and how pertectly sober his expression. This is what we call a cold-blooded horse, a cross between some of our American breeds. They're the best animals in the worid for our business. You can teach them anything short of talking, and they never gyt nervous or excited. Why, this fellow E<ows when I’m feeling well the minute I light on his back. It I'm in good condition he tends right straight to his own business, but it I'ma little under the average he favors me in every possi- ble way. If I make a somersauit a little out of true he'll sway around just a little so as to catch me when I come down, and then carry me along ‘as gently as a cradle.” Just then the music struck up a more spirited air and the horse turned his gray face know- ingly but quietly toward the curtained opening to the auditorium. “See how composed he is,” said the rider, smiling at the action, “He know it’s our turn next. He's just as different as can be from that little white mare over there. I take her for my second act. She's a thoroughbred, and thor- oughbred horses are alw: . But here we go. I must bid you Wait till I come back.” The gray horse arched his neck as his master’s private groom took him by the bridle. The curtain parted; there was a glimpse of 10,060 faces through the opening; the band played even more wildly than before, and the gray horse, followed by his world-famed rider, dashed away into the ring amid a roar of ap- plause. But at last the act was over. Mr. Melville had turned several back somersaults and per- formed a variety of pirouettes in mid-air, had Jeaped from the ground to his horse’s back with- out turning a hair, and all the tine the band was blaring itself hoarse, the ring-master’s whip was snapping fiercely, and the crowd was giving off spontaneous bursts of applause that awelled up loudly and then died away like waves on the strand. As his horse dashed back into the dressing-room he followed siowly in the heavy. dals, and retired to his dressing-room a little tired and perspiring. Well, that ends my work,” sald he, “until 9 o’clock this evening. Fifteen minutes in the afternoon and fifteen more in the evening— that's my day's work. But it took me seven- teen years to learn it, and I don’t half know it yet. It may look easy, but it isn’t learned in a minute, let me assure you of that.” “Ig it very hard to learn?” asked the reporter. “Yes, very; and some people can never learn It takes a certain knack or grace, or what- ever you may call it. Now, there’s my brother George—there he goes again out into the ring— he’s a capital rider as far as the mere riding goes, but he has not the build, or the presence. if you choose to call it so, that is necessary for aman to have if he is going to be great in the business. George is more on the comic order. Just watch that gait of his. There, there; look at that strut. Isn’t that capital? He’s one of the very best clowns in the circus business, 1 think.” ‘rhe brother George, concerning whom these in black, with white over-gaiters, white glov and ared wig. He was pigeon-toed and knock- kneed, and aitogether disjointed. and the audi- ence laughed at his antics immoderately. How in the world,” asked the reporter, turn- | ing to the bare-back rider again, “did you ever | get into this business?” “Get into? Why, man, I didn’t get into it. I | Was born init. My father was one of the bes ; riders of his day. My mother was a rider, tos | and my mother’s mo! ness long yearsazo in Australia, in the days when every clrcus had its afterpiece or play. I was acripple In my boyhood. We lived fora time in Chili, South America, after leaving Australia. There they have asort of iron bas- ket full of coals which they set in the center of theroom to warm it. One day, when quite young, I fell backward into one of these baskets, and the result was a severe burn, from which my spine was affected so that I was quite drawn out of shape. My chin was drawn on to my breast in an unnatural way, and, on the suggestion of a friend, my father’ thou: to cure me by teaching ine to perform. I began when about ten years old, and it was two years after before I appeared in public. I went through the regular course of training, the first part of which is to learn to dance and tumble. it is absolutely necessary for a bareback rider to be a good dancer and a good tumbler. First of all, though, the most important thingtolearn istostrike on one’s feet. It doesn’t matter which side up a man is, if he can only touch his toes he’s all right.” “Well, isn’t there great danger of some times falling under the horses?” “Not as much danger in that as there looks to be, particularly if your horse has common sense. The greatest danger is when there are a number of horses. But even then, many a time in fact, when I have been riding four horses. I have fallen under their heels and been all mixed up beneath them so that everybody thought I must be killed, and then came out hout a scratch on my body. ‘The trick consists in simply rolling right up in a ball, and if the horses are well trained they will not step on the rider, but simply knock against him until he rolls out to one side and gets on his feet again.” ale ses Effect of the Night Air. The Westminster Review quotes from Miss Nightingale some very sensible remarks on the subject of night air, Her accomplishments as a scholar and her experience as a nurse give great weight to her views on this important subject. She says the dread of night air is an extraordinary fallacy. What alr can we breathe at night but night air? Our only cholce lies be- tween pure night air from without or foul night air from within. It is unaccountable that most pane prefer the latter. What would they say if it is proved to be true that one-half of the diseases that we suffer from are occasioned by people sleeping with their windows shut? An open window during most nights of the year can never hurt any one. In great cities night air Is often the purest and best that can be ob- tained during the twenty-four hours. There- tore in town it would be better, if either must be done, to shut the windows during the day than during the night for the sake of the sick. The absence of the smoke and the quiet of the streets make the night the best time for airing the patients. A physician considered as high medical authority on consumption and cli- mate, asserts that the air in London is never so pure as after 10 o'clock at night. An immense amount of fresh air is required for healthy res- piration. The average respiration of a man is estimated at twenty-four cubic inches, and the average number of respirations during a min- ute is twenty. Therefore, four hundred cubic feet of air pass through the Jungs of an ordinary man in twenty-four hours, And yet, knowing this fact, we shut up our house and go to sleep without a thought for the supply of the life- giving oxygen, as necessary for tlie well-being of the delicate tissues of ttie lungs as food is for the renewal of the tissues of the body. If we had to buy pure air as we do jous stones we should soon peas) its worth. Because it is as “free as air” we are unwillit ae and care to jadicious supply, and carelessly breathea tainted atmosphere. which brings disease and a thou- sand ills that flesh is heir to as a penalty for the transgression of physical laws. of graves, of the dead outside the walls, eeyren ender the tropic blue; of the ‘potter's field,’ pools of blood and crosses of crucifixi A Magical Town of the Border. From the St. Pan! Pioneer-Presg, “What is the population of La Beau, D. T., now?” askeda reporter. The reply was: ‘‘Well, the first lumber was recetyed two weeks -ago last Sunday. Now there are six general stores, store, five shoes that circus people wear to save their san-" From the New York Tribune. The toothsome “broiler” is a luxury of the New York market, and no amount of labor or care has yet been able to surround the early days of young chickens with sufficient safe- guards against accidents and death to produce them in numbers to meet the demand. The first that reach the market in the early spring come about March Ist. They cost from €2 to $3 a pair and weigh about two pounds and a halfa pair. These chicks are usually raised in bed- rooms or cellars on farms or in the small houses of workingmen on the outskirts of villages. Usually only the male birds are sold. the pullets being kept for early la) in the fall. During the months of March, April and May, though the conditions for ratsing young chickens are at thelr best, the appetite for “broilers” among those who can afford to eat them keeps paee with the increased supply. A member of the firm of A. & E. Robbins, of Fulton market, said recently toa Tritune re- porter: “It has long been a legend with poultry dealers that the best eating fowls of the count! came from Philadelphia, which meant Buck! county, Pa. The demand of the trade soon ex- ceeded the supply trom Bucks county, but the fiction was kept alive by calling all well-bred, well-fattened and dry-picked chickens that came to market ‘Philadelphtas,’ so that this name has now become merely a brand and is applied to quite as many fowls raised in New Jersey, Long Island or Delaware as to fowls from Pennsy vania. As Philadelphia is glorified, Long Isl- and is condemned, for any fowl that Is injured, poor in flesh, or scalded for removing the feathers, is called ‘a Long {sland,’ though its home may have been in Philadelphia or Bucks count: Sealding Injures the sale of the chicken ful ten cents a pound, and epicures claim that they can tell after it is cooked whether a chicken was dry-picked or scalded. All ‘broilers’ must come to this market dry-picked and not drawn, and must not weigh jess than twelve nor more than twenty-four ounces.” of the opinion that New York was better supplied with fowls than either Paris or London, and cited in proof of the tact that plying between New York and French lish ports buy the great bulk of their supplies in this marl “* What is the range of prices for broilers?” “When they first come, about March Ist, and for a month afterward, we often pay as high as $3.a pair for them, As the season advances the price gradually falls to $1, and finally to 50 cents a pound. until the seaside and summer resort hotels close and stop the demand from hucksters. At that season chickens are in their best form for roasting, and the broiler Is worth but 15 or 20 cents a pound until the winter de- mand begins again.” ‘Have you handled chickens raised from in- cubators “We have handled a tew bat did not like them. They were not fat enough. Very few have come to this market. There wasa large con- cern started in New Jeisey bya Mr. Baker to raise incubator chickens, but it soon broke Cas Poultry in large numbers never do well.” Mr. Darling, of the Fifth Avenue hotel, said: “I have never handled many fowls hatched in incubators, but those I have seen were good. am anxious to encourage the raising of ‘broll- ers’as1 am surein time some one will learn how to do It, and now the demand is far ahead ofthe supply. We use afew all through the winter for private parties, but the fall supply does not come until April. The highest price is paid about 2 There is always a de- mand for twenty-ounce chickens at about one dollar apoundin winter. There is no reason for objecting to a ‘broiler’ hatched in an incubator. We always put them on our tables as soon a3 we can get 100 a di The clubs pay the high- st price for them.” Charles Delmonico was of the opinion that the supply was fully upto the demand. “Spring chickens,” he said, “are like asparagus—only wanted in the spring. We have no use for them in winter. Paris is not_so well supplied with poultry as New York. The big stories about chicken-raising near Paris are not true.” Captain S. A. Day, of the United States army, was found by The Tribune reporter at Fort Hamilton, surrounded by chickens and ducks of allsizes. He extibited the incubator that he has been experimenting with during his leisure moments tor the last thirteen years. The cap- tain Is a man of scientific attainments. He was on the board appointed to select the fire-arms for the army, and is now on a similar board to select a proper lamp for use by the soldiers. He ts a chemist and practical machini®@ as well. By means of the pyrometer and an ingento mechanical contrivance of his own invention he has made a perfect heat regulator. The great difficulty with the Incubator always has been | to get @ perfect distrinution of heat. The amount of moisture and fresh air which the egg should have at certain stages of the em- bryonic development is a matter for future de- termination. What are the hard points about the incu- bator?” the captain was asked. “The incubator must be so arranged: that the amount of oxygen absorbed by the egg during incubation can be carefully regulated,and ample provision made for carying off the residuum, or waste, in the shape of carbonic oxide. “With the aid of the incuber can ehickens be raised for the market at a profit?” “Ihave no hesitation in saying that I could raise chickens at a profit, but the incubator has not yet become sutiiciently automatic for any but the most skilful tosucceed with it.” “There seems to be as_much trouble with the chick after he is hatched as before.” “Yes, the Incubator does only half the work, and the nicest skill iz required toralse the young and tender brood. If it is intended to make stock chickens of them they are fed some meat and given free exercise and sunlight. If intend- ed for market at the earliest possible moment then they are forced with corn meal and pure wheat, and are put on the market as soon as they reach a pound weight. I have at odd times and with many accidents caused by the interte: ence of other business raised about 300 chick- ens this spring. With proper surroundings and correct management I can see no reason why ‘broilers’ could not be raised to any amount de- manded by the market, but it would require expert management.” ———+e-___ Has Vatican Left the Skies? From the New York Sun. It seems, from the report of the astronomers who went to the South Pacific ocean to observe the total eclipse of the sun on May 6, that there is no planet Vulcan after all. The story of this supposed planet is very curious. Many years ago Le Verrier, the famous French astronomer, after it nad become certain on account of irregularities in the motions of the outer members of the solar system that there must be another planet be- yond Uranus, figured out the spot where this planet should be, and then sent word to the men who handled the big telescopes of Europe that if they would look in that spot they wouid see a new world. They looked, and lo! the round green disk of the planet Neptune slowly sailed into the field of view. Applying similar methods of research Le Verrier afterward an- nounced that there must exist between Mercury, the inaermost known planet, and the sun one or more unknown planets which produced other- wise inexplicable perturbations in the motions of the other planets. It has been generally supposed that these perturbations were caused by meteoric matter gathered in dense streams around the sun, but some have always main- tained that a planet must exist there, and in 1859 a French amateur obeerver announced that he had seen it. It was called Vulcan, avery appropriate name, considering that it must face pense rays of the sun at exceedingly close quarters. During the total eclipse of 1878 two American observers, Prof. Watson, of Ann Harbor, who has since died,and Prof. Swift, of Rochester, be- leved that they algo had seen the long-sought pone planets alcan, it ap- uncle. He was ahale, hearty man of 8, a bachelor, wealthy, and surrounded with every comfort in a beautiful home not far from New York. He had traveled in Europe, and was full of anecdote and memory of his long life. He arose one morning apparently in perfect health. His buoyancy of spirits was noticed. He was singing some of the quaint old Scotch songs of his boyhood. He expected a visit from me, and, as he desired to confer with me on a matter of business, he arose from the table after a hasty and partial meal, saying he would drive down to the depot, not far away, and bring me to the house. He had the servant bring his ponies to the door and refused to let the man go with him, saying he preferred to drive himself. He mounted the box and drove off at 8 smart pace, The old gentleman had not driven more than a few reds trom his own house when he was met by a neighbor who noticed something strange in his appearance. His horses stopped. The neighbor dismounted and went to the side of his carriaze and spoke to him. The old gentleman did not answer. He sat upright in his seat. holding the reins in hishand. He was dead. He lad passed away without a shock of any kind. There was no aj parent cause for his death, which was probably occasioned by heart disease. Dr. L. L. Seaman, physician-in- ity hospital, Blackwell's Island, took great in- terest in observing the much-vaunted death scenes of Sara Bernhardt, and whenonce started on the subject he is aptto give a judgment of the great actress’ performances somewhat dif- ferent from the general conclustons ot the dra- matic critics. Speaking on this subject the other day, Dr. Seaman said that Mile. Bern- ‘dt had seven different ways of dying, and all of them were totally unlike anything he had ever seen ina medical practice covering many thousand of cases of all Kinds of death. “Of course Ido not hold myself responsible tor the deathsin my hospital any more than for the births,” said Dr. Seaman. “Many patients come in when they are almost in the last mo- ments of life. Many are known to be absolutely beyond hope of recovery. But my observation convinces ine that the dramatists and actors have far overestimated the pains of death. and especially the possibilities of great mental effort Just previous to the moment of dissolution. “It is, In fact, about as difficult to tell when aman dies as to determine when he goes to sleep. Death isa gradual, not a sudden pro- cess. Iam speaking now of death by disease, not of ylolent death. Possibly in the represen- tation of violent death the actors may come somewhere near the truth, but generally their pictures of death by disease are, to one who knows the truth, simply ridiculous. Dissolu- tion Is as painless and unconscious as birth. The approach to it may be protracted and patn- ful. There may be long and agonizing scenes resulting from disordered imagination. Death destroys one organ after another, not all at once. The last organs to yield are tne lungs, which show their oppression in the breathing, and produce what is termed the death rattle. As soon as the lungs cease to act, the black venous blood is no longer changed to red arte- rial blood, but is propelled unpurified from the heart, and thus poisons the body like a narcotic. The energies of the brain are gradually lulled as in the approach of sleep, and unconscious cere- bral action produces the murmur of the names of friends, or recoliections of past lite, or reter- ence to whatever has passed through the mind. But that there is pain in natural death I have long since ceased to believe.” A veteran physician speaking on this subject recently, said: “Judging of the thoughts of nen by their words just previous to death, I should say it often happens that a dying person ives no indication of thought upon a subject that has been the favorite topic of a lifetime. I have known active business men, with important af- fairs unattended to, who died with words upon their lips that indicated absorption in some inci- dent of the moment, generally relating to per- sonal comfort. It was that sort of a death that Washington Irving died, saying, ‘Well, I must arrange my pillows for another weary night; if this could only end.’ Long suffering under the afflictions of a painful disease will serve to di- yert the mind of the strongest. Even the phi- losopher, Ben Franklin, was forced to say with his last breath, ‘A dying man can do nothing easy.’ It is a very common thing for dying per- sons to express sympathy with attendants who have been fatigued in attending on them. Among the last words of Sir Walter Scott were “Poor souls, I know you were up all night.’ “And yet, where there has not been pro- tracted suffering, and where the administration of narcotics has not produced a wandering mind, a dying person will manifest an interest in whatever has been the uppermost thought of his "fe. Lord Chesterfield 1s reported to have illustrated his proverbial politeness by request- lng that a friend at his bedside should be given ja Very often the last words Indicate tfulness for loved ones, such as the ut- e of Charles Ii., ‘Let not poor Nelly | starve,’ or of Thomas Jefferson, who sald, ‘I re- a my soul to God, and my daughter to my It is but natural tiat whatever con- ess is left at the moment of death should be that of affection. I have seen it expressed in a loving look, or a pressure of the hand, often long atter the power of speech had gone.’ “How about the facial expression of dying persous?” “That Is often spasmodic. The laughing or crying muscles are often excited in the convul- jons of death when there are no corresponding feelings. In the same way there are often mus- cular contortions of the mouths of infants, who are belleved to be smiling, when, in fact, they are troubled with stomach ache.” “Have you ever observed the visions and ec- static delights that are often spoken ot by rell- gious writers 7” “Certainly. They are quite common, and not at all confined to religious persons. Experienced physicians testify that most persons die in a state of trance. Although they are ey | conscious, they pass away ina state of dream- ing. Often they seem to be listening to musical sounds. Sometimes they seem to be beckoned to by angels.” “And do you regard such exhibitions as purely physical ? Just as much so as any dream. They are con- trolled by the ordinary thoughtsand feelings, the every-day life and education and imagination of the subject in precisely the same way as a dream is so controlled. Generally a dream is a repro- duction of a waking thoughts. The curious jumble of subjects ina dream isthe result of absence of volition. There is a suspension of the functions of the median tract of the brain. The same thing occurs in the mesmeric trance. The suspension may be temporary, and then the person may not Wed return conscious- ness, but remember some of the curious things seen in the vision. Something of the same nature occurs in taking opium. In the earlier stages of opium eating the subject appears to have two mental operations going on at once. One is fantastic and odd, the other normal and regular. In such a case one fs able to mg Ded a running comment on the visions passing before his eyes. “The death of a healthy person ts alwaysa very different thing from the death otf a diseased rson. In cases of accident, where persons iow that they must die in a very short time, unless the shock has been very great, they pre- serve their customary trains of thought; they direct thelr affairs with comparative com- posure.” “Have you ever known persons to die in a comical mood?” “There are historic cases. Douglass Jerrold is ted to have said, ‘Why torture a ing creature, doctor?’ and everybody remem! the dying joke of Robert Burns—‘Don’t let the awkws eee fire over me.” “It must be remembered, however, that what are called the last words of men, may have been uttered a considerable time before death—either hours or days. Some allowance must be made for the impossibility of procur- ing testimony. When the late Dr. Beard died, after having become widely known as an in- telligent and educated skeptic, his sister claimed that he had recanted on his death! the newspapers for estray notices. As soon as they learn that a ranchman has taken up an animal one of them visits the place, examines AG BEEE Pas? ie 3 Fi Bie (ane our. Tam dctermined to close out all this Season's SUITS, in tact all LADIES AND CHILDREN'S GARMENTS, K Ihave reduced the prices considerable, and some BIG BARGAINS in Ladies’ Spring and Summer Suits will be sold, Ladics’ Linon Dusters, also, in Mohair, at sacrificing Prices. BATHING SUITS FOR LADIES. = “ GENTS. vs BOYS and GIRL, BATHING SHOES AND CAPs. Thave the largest assortment and prices as low as they can be gold for. BATHING SUITS WHOLESALE. MILLINERY DFPARTMEN’ Thave, from to-day, REDUCED all Colored Straw Hate—almost xiving away. Groat Bargains in this De- partment. See our $1.98 Handsome Cream Plumes, worth $2.60. BRAT UMM Mt BAA U UMMM BAke PEE Bes a*4 ‘ou MM MT 3020 416 Irn STREET. > F IREWORKS! Fireworks: HURRAH FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY! IMMENSE ASSORTMENT |” LOWEST PRICES! THE VERY BEST GOODS!!! THE UNEXCELLED FIREWORKS COMPANY= UNRIVALLED PRODUCTIONS, ‘We mention: Plain and Anfinal Figure Balloons, Colored Fire, Bombtnhells and Mines. Colored Diamond Star. Colored Gallopade. ae Short-stick Rockets in 4oz.,6 o., 3 Ib.. 21b and 21b, Roman Candles, Zrom 2 ball wp to 12 ball, all colored. Bonga! Lizhts, Flower Pots, Colorettos, Scroll Wheels Triangles, &e.,’&c. ‘We guarantee tho quality of our Fireworks an the very best in the market, and not Uable to explode prema- turely, as 0 many inferior makes do; and, besides, we give you all colored fireworks atlower prices than others sell plain white. Parties desiring to make extensive displays will be allowed a liberal discount, Fre Crackers at Five Cexts Per Pack’ CANNON CRACKERS, TORPEDOES, PAPER CAP PISTOLS AND PAPER CAPS, COTTON AND SILK FLAG, CHINESE AND JAPANESE LANTERNS, &c., &e., at SILVERBERG'S, MAMMOTH TOY STORE, 312 7th and 313 8th streets northwest, Near Pen: wan 3e18 Ovn Easy SEMI-ANNUAL CLOSING SALE, E 'S PALACE, 814 SEVENTH STREET, ‘WONDERFUL BARGAINS, READ OUR PRICES, OUR GREAT DRIVE IN PLUMES, 5,000 Plumes at 75e., $1, $1.50 and $2. Very Handsome at $2.56, $8, $3.50. ‘Trimmed Pattern Bonnets and Hate, sold formerly from, $ to $12, are now ouly $2.00 t0 $6, é AChoice Lotot Fine Colored Leghorn Hats, worth $1.25, at 25and S0centa, Biack, Fine, Fronch Chip Hate at 28 cents worth 981.25, Elegant Tips, all Colors, 87, 60, 78c. and $1.0 bunch. Sach Ribbons, from § to 9 inches wide, from 40 to The, ‘er yard. Flowers at 40 per cent lex than Importers’ Prices, Velycte Silks, Satins and Laces at « discount of $3 per Ludie:" and Children’s Dresses at 30 per cent less than Silk Mitts, Lisle and Silk Gloves lower than elsewhere, Black English Crape and Black Dress Silk at astonish- ingly low prices, OUR STOCK IS BOUND TOO @ CALL AND EMBRACE THIS OPPORTUNITY BUY BARGAINS. = PALACE, 816 SEVENTH STREET. We Gvanaxree TRE RIDGWAY REFRIGERATOR KING'S x16 Lo do all we claim for it—to give entire satiefaction—or money refunded. tis much more economical in the consumption of 109 ‘than any other refrigerator. It dispenses with the motal lining, 80 objectionable Decause of labor necessary to keep it clean. Ask to cee list of references. 3. W. SCHAEFER, Sore Acext, 1020 Tth street northwest. Tax Sevex Aoczs Or Mix AT THE MISFIT STORE, CORNER lorm AND F STREETS, AT FIRST, THE INFANT .. Well, the dear * Se neoerke, fell, litde thing had bet- els