{ title: 'The Columbia Republican. (Hudson, N.Y.) 1881-1923, May 19, 1887, Page 1, Image 1', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about NYS Historic Newspapers - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-05-19/ed-1/seq-1/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-05-19/ed-1/seq-1.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-05-19/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-05-19/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
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N U M B E R 2 0 THE RUSSIAN DOCTOR. ’’flfErt^inemlid Rcffiaiitio Story from R e a l Life. BY MRS. FRANCES A. SHAW, SYantlalion Copyrio^ted^ 35S7, hy A. N. K^Uogg Newspaper Company. now and then some pleasant little in novation into the immaculate prim- ness of the vine- wreathed house. ^ With Ivan, always her faithful ally, she foraged the gar dens of the town for plants in full leaf and blossom, and with them adorned the doctor’s study. “The place where one works ought to be bright and cheerful,” she said. “Now that winter is near, we must have a memoiy of the summer and a prophecy of the spring.” Arnim awaited with impatience the hour for lessons when she w'ould come bounding into his study. What stolen glances he would cast at her over his manuscript! How full of grace and charm was her evory movement, how ird and action she reminded rush out into the forest. When Desiree had vanished, he would laugh at his infatuation, and gazing into the mirror say, derisively; “Foolish graybeard, throw these flowers out of the window' and close your door! Marianne is right, this young girl disquets yoi And yet he would ra1her this refreshing breath him to hi ofHortense! Some times it seemec again a you! school-book; lim as if lie were a would amongong :ani of youthful brightness. I yet he would rat throw wide open the door to .admit am his old folio.s this „ . ng breath of spring. Marianne frowned upon this ii flow'er planting w'hich soiiled dow-lodK<'S and made txtra L^sirco took all the work in-door so the win- made txt work. But all the work upon her self, and Ivan stood by to wipe a eveiy wuiter-stain, she only shrug her shoulders. As for Ivan, every thing Desiree did enchanted him; he fol lowed her about like a faithful hound. The relations betw'eon the two women were tolerable, though without warmth on either side. Thanks to the cloister sisters, Desiree was very skillful with her needle. She was also industrious and showed great taste in all matters of dress. Marianne utilized this taste and skill in many ways. She was learning to speak French so elegantly that she concluded not to send Desiree away before spring. Arnim proved a model teacher. He found delight in this daily concern w'ith intellectual things, with truth, science and beauty. His pupil’s ardor and ready comprehension animated him, and she in turn looked up to him ititude and admiration. She' tedd for knoalowledge, )ecame to both the hungered and thirste and the lesson hour b( happiest of the day. “ When spring comes we will pursue studies in the open air,” said the shall not let you go until I are thoroughly grounded in all you id to leani.” lesiree was silent, but her beaming eyes expressedressed herer delighte in the pros pect of a longer h d ct of a lo stay. “ May I not call you uncle?” she asked one day with many blushes. “My mother was dear to you and you are the best friend I have in the world.” “ I shall always remain your true friend my child,” said the doctor, press ing her hand. Hortense’s daughter must not address me as a stranger. Certainly you may call me “uncle’ ” “ But I need not call Marianne aunt?” she said, anxiously, “ I fear I can not.” “O, Marianne would be the last one wish it,” he “Desiree is Marianne mode of addres quite proper, she said, “ and must ■ ■ m willin irised at thought it I a child,” it,” he answered, laughing. be treated as such. I am willing to have her remain here through the winter. She cheers' you up, cousin, and is a sort of play thing for you. You men need to be amused.” He had become remarkably cheerful, this grave Russian doctor—he was in fact almost jovial. He passed mucli less time in his study, he took long walks -with Desiree while Marianne in dulged in her favorite social dissipation —an afternoon coffee. In spite of the wintry weather, they walked mostly in the forest. Marianne, when invited hy her cousin to accompany him any where, drove him to desperation by her slow and elaborate preparations, but Desiree, quickly equipped as a sol dier on the march, would be ready in a moment. Evenings the doctor often read aloud, finding in Desiree the most interested of listeners. While Marianne was al ways interrupting with irrelevant ques tions and remarks, Desiree would now and then let her work fall and gaze silent and intent into his face. To Arnim the glance of those eyes was more eloquent than words. Still, when he closed the book, it was a delight to listen to the young girl’s lively remarks and com ments, to answer her questions. The more charming the conversation, the more sure it was to be speedily ended by Marianne’s peevish, authoritative announcement that it was time for bed. While a serious reading of the clas sics formed a part of the course of study, there was also time for much ive poetry and romance. It seemed e doctor as if, in taking into his hands the guidance and development of this youthful mind, he had found his life-work. The winter passed like a dream. Gradually Desiree mastered those little household tasks which concerned fu^tiv Marianne, in her many cares, either forgot or performed irregularly. She prepared his morning and evening udy table, hunted mn mislaid, tbink- _ irely useless. Marianne had never taken into account her cousin’s little peculiarities and bachelor ways. Desiree found them out and humored them. Marianne’s care for .him was like eve^ thing else slie did, in accordance with a ~fix^ aystem, changeless as the laws of tlie Medes and Fersians. wanted him to regard her as a housekeeper—to set her very hig at last find her indispensable. E ward would come upon that day when he asked her to be his housekeeper for life. His hour must strike sooner later. His heart would demand right. That school-boy loye of wl She high and which gave her no uneasiness. i F o r ( h e f i n t tiiiMi finrm iM T ln* paternal roof, Arnim had fcep? the Christmas feast. ■ Desiree, who had for long weeks been full of secrets, pre pared the Christmas ti-ce, laden with inexpensive gifts, most of them the work of her skillful fingers. When the doctor, witli a warm pres sure of the hand, and in a voic< choked with ei that gratitude too poor, she Si “ The thanks are all on my side. You have given me a home. Never, mother’s death, have I been ition, tried to express whi(liich ’ words were since my mot often ask myself, tant from you thi not center in this dear refuge.” tt not be so dis- T thoughts will so h.appy, so free from care, as now. Where .shall I be next Christmas? I you that my in this dear re iiig, you Desiree,” reiflied the doctor, studies ai’e only just'begun.” Spring came earlier and' more radi ant than ever, so thought teacher and pupil. The garden throw off its win ter robe, and appeared fresh and fair as a youthful beauty in her first ball dress. The nightingales sang amid the flowers, the syringes and lilacs poured forth intoxicating perfumes,, the nar cissus, with its great child-like eyes, the blossoming world. “ God willing, you will be here, ized out into wests,ests, cl<cthed meal with bird for cl in tender were vo( rowsy blossoming woi id the d l hum of buttei'flies and beetle light of“existence. When nature\ thus moved to her fair domain, who could remain within four narrow walls? The goal of Arnim’s and Desiree’s wanderings was mostly that little rus tic temple on the hill-top which, with Ivan’s help, had been very prettily fitted up. Here’ Arnim often took Iris afternoon coffee or his glass of light wine—here the two had their little sup pers, Desiree acting as hostess. Here with her work in hand she sat in a win dow recess while the doctor rea,d to her. The tangled tresses of the maid en-hair, blent with the rich sprays of the cypress, touched the luxuriant hair of the young girl’s head as it bent over her work, or at some fine passage was lifted that the beaming eyes might ex press the delight for which words were too poor. Arnim feai discover these ly end them. Abs( iiursuits, she was not division of the day. .red that Marianne might ie little feasts, and abrupt- sorbed in her own included in their He often gazed e path, for the short, rotund figure in the large garden-hat, and the dress carefully caught up that it might ■escape the ground. But to his relief, no Marianne ever came. “Do you know what my mother al- w.ays called me?” asked Desiree one day, as tiney ili walked slowly homeward, should I know?” “ ‘■Fapillon '—that is French for but terfly. It would seem so like old times if you would call me by that name. ” “ I will, my child, since the name so well suits your brightness and mobil ity. But this constant semblance of flight alarms me. Have you grown tired of this place? Is it too lonely for you? Does Marianne annoy you hy r exactions ? Tell me frankly. ’ ’ her light sm breeze waved back the curls from her forehead. “ Uncle, how can you ask such ques tions?” she cried, excitedly. “ You must know that I would like to live with you always. Perhaps,” she added, a mischievous smile displaying the dimple in her left cheek—“perhaps Marianne will marry some day, and I become your housekeeper.” Marianne marry! Strange that the thought had not before occurred to her cousin. “ Why not?” he asked himself, as they walked on. ' Greater miracles had med. Yes, in that evei house, and happen should keep his 1 I under her S AFTEENOON COFFEE. rule things ■would assume a freer, mer rier tone. But ^s “ fortune it v a suitable parti.. a Marianne was •with out fortune it would be difficult to find “ Why are you so silent and thought- nil, dear uncle?” asked ■ a musical He started. “ I was thinking of the blindness of men in regard to the really good qualities' of women. Mari anne, with her aptness for domestic affairs and her economy, w o t^ be a treasure for any man.” “Yes, she is a model housekeeper,” answered Desiree. “Before she leaves us, I must study diligently into the mysteries of her art.” tering his rnim found CHAPTER IV. iPON entei study Arnim foi a letter from his former traveling companion and pu- IB pil, Hilmar von 111 Ussikow. “Do. not 130 friglit-’ enod, old friend and Mentor,” he wrote, \If soon appet . ................ physicians have or dered 1118 to the south. h u t'I regard the home wnere 1 can enjoy your socieiy as ino oc»i> health resort for me. I want you to examine thorougUy the binding of my life-book, and teU me frankly If It It Is worth repair. My troubles are over-wrought nerves and a slight disease of the heart. I long for other air, for a different way of life, for a. rosy, quiet, rural existence. Vs».' S E Laps on my t , But no m< rosy, qulot, ■avels X may pick _____ ^ ____ . . p up a Gem ■wife. But no more enthrallments of the h e art for me, that i$ oyer, I have ceased flirting, and have burned my ships bobind me. Although under forty, I have done with life’s illusions. “ You know enough ot my diplomatic career In St. Fetorshurg, which I now leave without having won any great reputation, to be aware that my greatest need at present Is a clever practical, housewife. But I want no yqung,' sentimental girl; my ideal Is a woman of ma ture yeorsT capable of grasping the domestic reins and taking care of mo. After providing hamdsomely^or my younger brother I am rich enough to purchase an estate wherever It suits me, to employ an efficient steward, and live for my old enthusiasms—muslo and painting. I shall ho oostantly busy In a dlllctante sort of » way. We Russians are not like you Germans- reared for serious work—and my wife will lead a c'omfortable life. If sbo Is not musical, so much the better, If she were so In a higher grade tbsa I, my muslo would bore her; if In a lower, she would bore me. 'Who knows but In jrour little town I may meet the one X seek? “ I expect also to regain my health with yon. Wlien only a z isl^ physician you cured >any father, and your skill must bo far grejiter now, “ Write me a t dnee, letting me know it you are at hme, and can reeeire m . Direct to Ihc Buiwlan Rmbaasy, Berila.” ________ ___ When Arnim appeared at supper he looked so excited that Desiree asked what could have happened. He announced the coming visitor, and Marianne exclaimed: “Heaven he praised, the young vegetables are up! ■Who is it?” She added. “Some old Kasan professor?” “No, a younger friend I have already mentioned to you,” replied the doctor, “Hilmar Ussikow. His mother was from a Prussian province on the- Baltic, and he is half German.” “ Must our lessons he interrupted?” asked Desiree, sadly. “ Certainly not. Hilmar will be one of our own family and tviU not disturb our arrangements in the slightest de- “ But he will drink tea out of glasses which Ivan will break by the dozen,” said Marianne. “I hear that these Rus sians must always have a glass of tea in their rooms. Tvan will be so set up in serving a real countryman, that we shall not know what to do with him. Has Baron Ussikow—of course he is a Baron—any peculiar habits in regard to eating and drinking? \Will he smoke in all the rooms? I can not allow this. Before a week the fresh curtains •will be saturated. In his own room he may do. whathe likes.” “ Dear cousin, you will doubtless find him very agreeable, as all other women have. He is a man of birth i culture, a are distinguished hy good' manners. He can not endure the Eus he will settle down in G any event he ■will remain with us some ;ood mi .ussian climate; down in Germany. In ih u s SOI he will s weeks, and we may expect him in a few days.” An hour later Arnim dispatched a letter to Berlin, which contained these words: comfortable of homes. T1 ■who possesses such a practical, domestic man ager may esteem himself happy. I need not assure you of my delight in the prospect of see ing you once more. The longer you remain the better. \With joy I salute you and await you. “ A bnim . Strange, be'wildered, feverish dreams this night haunted the Russian doctor. Marianne appeared to J ..................... •wreath and vail, leaning a slender m.an with Hilman’s interest ing features, while Papillon flitted about smiling and happy. She clung to him and whispered: “Now, I shall stay with you always!” “A letter from Berlin!” said Arnim, entering the arbor where Marianne was tying up vines. In her neat, fresh light-blue muslin gown, and wliite apron, a dainty morning cap partially concealing her abundant blonde hair, she seemed to him almost pretty in spite of her short, dumpy figure. Papillon stood close by handing the twine. Tall, lender and graceful, she formed a striking contrast to Mari- “Uncle, tell me something of this gentleman,” she cried. “How does he “He used to be called ‘handsome Ussikow.’ I fear Ke may not impress you as an invalid.” “■Why does he not bring his •wife with him?” “Because he has none, Papillon.” “Have you not told me that he is somewhat frivolous?” asked Marianne over her shoulder, and still going on with her work. “Possibly. But not more so than most young men in his position and with like surroundings. He now longs for a quiet, German life.” ; he old?” asked Desiree, welve years younger thai Why did the Russian doctor feel loth 3 describe ■Hilmar as he really lark •ivith their glance now melanchi radiant—the finely cut mouth wi( “Twelve years younger than L” y to i He recalled the beautiful dark eyes, 'lolynow with its dazzling teeth, the delicately arched nose, the tall, elastic figure, the head proudly borne with its dark, wavy “Ussikow is very musical and draws and paints charmingly,” he said. “His voice is a sympathetic baritone. I think he will not scorn to play upon our modest piano.” “0, if he is a musician I shall be de- Bgbted with him!” cried Papillon, gayly. But Marianne said: “How can a man become absorbed in such useless things. To hear music for hours at a time would annoy even you, cousin. 1 hope he 'will go walking a great deal.” “Let us wait and see how Hilmar himself divides the hours. He is too ■ways agreeable to the mis- •ess of the house. He will not discom- lode us in the least. We will give him perfect a gentleman not to make him self in all wa 5 h Lhe t least. We will give 1 the parterre chamber at the left of the terrace. I hope he may sleep well, in that retired alcove.” The next day found Marianne ab sorbed inL preparations for the comi: prepa all of which Desiree was 1 ardent helper. The lessons were natu- ;st, in all [ent helpi rally somewhat neglected. One evening ’the doctor came home later than usual from his walk. The lamp was already lighted in the draw ing-room; the door to the terrace stood open. He paused upon the threshold to hear a man’s voice say: “I will entice him here -mth an old Russian folks song he used to love. If ever so deep in study it was sure to bring him. I will see if it still has the olden power.” A tall, slender figure seated itself be fore the piano, and a rich, cultured baritone sang in Russian the song of the \Three Span.\ Entrancing as were the tones, they divert Mai' dow recess, her head bent forward, and listened intent, almost breathless. In the wide-open eyes, the naive aston ishment of the child was blent with the re woman, the stream of melody poured calm and full. H e i r ’s song of the troubadour, Bert- rairi'de Born, met the ear of the listener in the doonvay.’ His “W.elcome Hilmar!” fell almost like a discord into the midst of these beautiful tones. The singer broke off -with a shrill ac cord, and springing up cried: \ Arnim, dear old friend!” Marianne gazed in surprise at her cousin, and seemed displeased at his late return. But Papillon grasped his arm and cried, excitedly: “ You are here at last, uncle! Wo thought you had got lost in the •forest.” ' Then she gazed at .him with glowing face, and burst into tears. This remarkably tender reception ■pleased and touched him-^ “1 believe m y friend’s singing has msd^ yaunerv- »Wk” 1 m said, smUing. “HUuuuy^bow t h e w e l c o m e . could you thus disturb the peace of this house?” The two Mends then embraced,^ and Arnim a Mil go to my study and smoke un til Marianne summons 3 to supper. Papillon will help my cousin.” “How glad I am to be here,” said Hilmar, taking his Mend’s arm. “The ladies in your absence displayed ytinr ■ German home in its fairest light. Later we will continue our festival of song. Auf Wiedersehen!\ As the study doc two men, Hilmar askec “But where is your little girl?” “Marianne introduced you to her. We call her Papillon. She was deeply moved hy your singing. My cousin and I are unmusical, but Desiree is very susceptible to all artistic impres sions. In this respect she is more “Do you call her a child? Well, if that means a being of unspoiled fresh ness and gi’ace, she is certainly a child. But you will allow me to treat your Papillon as a grown woman?” “Certainly, but do not show her gal- lich she will not understand. lantry She ha has lived in a subordinate place as erness, poor little thing! and is just L’om the pressure, peace, I implore you! Now let us speak of yourself. You do not seem strong. 'We must try and make you well. You must remain here so tliat I can watch over you. I demand from you perfect obedience. My first prescription is rcat.” Ivan entered, and with ecstatic grins announced in Russian that sup per was ready. What a delight to meet some one he could address in his native tongue! Ih spite of Marianne’s secret misgiv ings and doleful prophecies to Desiree, the supper was excellent. The table was charmingly arranged as usual, and sd one unusual adornment, from the garden, arranged with great taste hy Desiree. Hilmar took a carnation from the glass and placed it in his but- lole. At table he sbow( inderful raconteur. Hi: it containe( a glass of flowers and tistic life there were entrancing. Desiree listened in rapt attention, but said little. ' - Later, the guest at Marianne’s re quest, sang some more songs. As he rose to withdraw, Desiree asked: “Is it difficult—this Russian lan guage?” “So difficult that your uncle never could learn it. I myself despair of ever speaking it sans fante. My mother alwa 3 's spoke the beloved German in her family, and in society people speak French.” “I only wish to understand your R u s s ian songs.” “To-morrow I will translate them for you, Mile. Desiree.” To le OonUnued. The Alaska of the Future. In my mind’s eye I see the Alaska of the future—and the not far distant future. Among the most beautiful of the islands there will be fine openings; lawns and flowers will carpet the slopes from the dark walls of the forest to the water’s edge. In the midst of these favored spots summer hotels will throw wide their glorious windows upon sites that are like glimpses of fairy land. Along the beach numer ous skiffs await those who are weary of towns ; steam launches are there and small barges for the transportation of picnic parties to discovered islands in the next county. Sloop yachts with the more adventurous will go forth on voyages of exploration and discovery, two or three days in length, under the guidance of stolid, thorough bred Indian pilots. There may be an occasional wreck with narrow escapes from the watery grave—let' us hope so, for the sake of variety. There will be fishing parties aglore, and camping on foreign shores, and eagle hunts, and the delights of tl with Indian . retinues and Chinese ’ that :hing. There will be cir culating libraries in each hotel, and —andnd pianos,nos, and private theatricals.ricals, gra pia and private theat and nightly hops that may last indefi- ----- - y p jjj ----- I'ere w ill b e v isits fro m o n e h o t e l nitely, or at least until sunrise, with out shockingshocking thee most prudent, for th day breaks at 2 a. Th'er to the other, and sea voyages to dear old Sitka where the Grand hotel will be located ; and there will be the ular weekly or semi-weekly boat Muir glacier, with profeSsional th( desired.; and this’wild the Muir glacier, with professio guides to the top of it, And all the necessary traps furnished on board if desired.; and t life can begin as early as April and go on until the end of September without serious injury. There wHI l>c no hay 1 or prickly heat; neither will then sunstrokes nor any of the horror the eastern and southern summer ; true to its promise of sweet, warm ^days and deliciously cool evenings, in \which the young lover may woo his fair to the greatest* advantage—for there is no night there. Then every one will come home with a new experience, which is the best tiding one can come home with, and the rarest nowadays ; and with a -pocket full of Alaskan garnets, which, are about the wont he can cBme home with, being, as they arc, utterly value less, and unhandsome even when they are beautifully symmetrical-—Cijr/zx jfarrjn Sttddard in 'San Franctict Chnnicltf A Fall and a Bise# Detroit Free Press. A farmer who had been doing busi ness with some one on the second floor of a building near the market yesterday~made a slip at the top of the stairs and came down in spread-eagle fashion, and was for the moment ren dered unconscions. He was taken into the office of a livery stable for tem porary examination and treatment, and as they opened his coat and vest and chafed his hands he opened his eyes and said : “ Boys, I believe I ’m done for!” “ Ob, no, you’ll soon be all right,” they replied. “ Boys” he continued, as he tried to raise up, “ one of you go over on .the stand to my old woman.' “ Who is she ?” “ Her name is Potter. There’s a white boss in the team. You’ll know the wagon by a barrel of cider in the back end. There’s also a crock of butter.” “ We are to find Mrs. Potter and tell her you are hurt, and—” “ One of the horses is blind, and the old woman has got a red feather in her hat.” “ Yes we know. We are to tell her that you are hurt, and—” “And one of thq fore wheels of the wagin has got two new spokes in, it,” continued the man. “All right, and we are to bring your wife.” “ No, sir ! You just tell her that I’ve broken both legs and fourty other bones in my body, but not to sell one aurned ounce of that butter less’n twenty cents a pound. Butter has riz, and the old women sets there chewin’ gum and don’t know i t !” Food for Old People. Kind Varies w i t h Condicion~OriirIn of Many Dyspepsias— IllectricllY. Dr. L. H. Watson in Popular Science Monthly. The kind of food to be eaten varies with the condition. If an old person needs building up, the more nutritive foods, that is, those containing the greatest amount of nourishment to a given volume, the greatest proportion of assimilative matter. If, on the con trary, it is necessary to encourage the digestive action, we should select stim ulating food. Coffee is a natural drink for the aged. Its mildly stimu lating, soothing qualities directly indi cate it as a beverage for the old. Gasparin tells us that coffee has the property of rendering elements of the body more stable, and thus, if not affording nourishment, it diminishes the wastes going on. The origin of many dyspepsias in the old will be found in the lack of the proper means for the complete mastica tion of their food. The loss of their teeth will often entail a long train of ills. A set of false teeth will some times remove dyspeptic troubles of long standing. Mastication must be well performed, even if the food is not very solid. The one golden rule is to eat slowly. Some old people have peculiar fancies about certain foods, which must not be overlooked. Milk is one of the most easily digested of foods, on account of its various constituents, and can be taken when nothing else is permissible. Eggs, soft boiled or raw, are easily digested. Oysters, fish and lamb follow in about the order named. Beef, mutton and fowls and wheaten bread occupy about the same time in digestion. The two forms of dyspepsia most fre quently met in old people are the acid form, where there is an excess of acid fonnd in the stomach, and the atonic form, where there is a sluggish action of the mucus membrane of the stom ach, and the time for digestion is greatly lengthened. In acid dyspep sia Dr. Binger recommends the use of glycerine, stating that an old gentle man, learning tha't glycerine prevented milk from turning sour,- concluded that it would be. just the thing to prevent himself from turning sour. Glycerine, combined with powdered charcoal, has achieved success in remedying this form of dyspepsia. Artificial acids immediately after meals breaking up the' weaker acids and affording the natural acids of the stom ach, is an exceedingly useful remedy. The atonic form of dyspepsia, com bined with loss of appetite, requires a different treatment. The stomach is feeble and needs stimulating. Two or three grains of capsicum, with one half grain of aloes, in a capsule, will excite it to action. The constipation which often accompanies this form will be obviated. 'When there are accumu lations of gas, charcoal tablets, an hour or two after meals, generally gives re lief, but it is not a good plan to keep up their use permanently, aa it tends somewhat towards constipation. Electricity is a great tonic for these debilitated, relaxed stomachs. The apathetic condition of the intestinal track is dissipated, the liver pours out its bile and life seems to move on again. Alkalies taken before meala stimulate the flow of the gastric juicea. Slight fatigue often spoils the appetite and lowers the digestive power. A Favorea Climate. E x tra o r d in a r y F e r tility of a District in SoutUern Galitornia. San Bernardino (Cal.) Courier: letter has reached us from Charleston, S. C., asking if the statement made by the Courier that bananas have been grown in the open air in San Bernar dino County is true or if it is one of those periodical . canards started by sensational paragraphers. The state ment is true. An excellent banana is grown by A. Harrison on his charm ing little ranch at the base of the Ar rowhead Foothills. Louis Von Leu ven of Old San Bernardino has exhibi ted splendid bunches of ripe bananas, jq this city grown by himself on his own ranch. In quality the fruit is excellent. Yes, these bananas, o'n both places were grown in the open air. Why should they not ? Around the trends of the foothills, in High lands, in Grafton, in Redlands, - in Lugonia—all over East Sau Bernar dino—tomato vines are to-day the 2zd of December, in bloom and bearing.' Why shoj^Id not bananas flourish here in the open air ? East San Bernardi no is to-day a land of flowers and sun shine, practically free from frost, fog, wind and dust. Why, in this city a day or two ago the thermometer stood 9 5 ° in the shade. Yes, w'e grow bananas in the open air. And we also grow oranges, ' lemons, limes, pomegranates, olives, dates, figs, nec tarines, walnuts, apricots, pears, quinces, grapes, almonds, peaches— all in the open air. This valley also grows perfect articles of plums, prunes, blackberries, strawberries (many of our strawberry beds arc now in full bearing,) gooseberries, currants, per simmons, etc., We have specimens of as fine cotton as ever you grew on your palmetto soil—grown in this county. This county took the pre miums a t’the Chicago and New Or leans fairs for the best oranges, in competition against the world. San Bernardino raisins are the best to-day known to the commerce of the United States. Our native wines are in the very front rank of Eastern favor. Our dried fruits are the favorites in the markets. Had we men skilled in the business we could grow and manufact ure as fine an article of tobacco as the celebrated Durham of your sister State. Our elevated mountain valleys pro duce as good apples and potatoes as your Eastern lands, and in far greater abundance to the acie. A man can, within the limits of the San Bernar dino Valley, dine New Year’s Day on green string-beans and new potatoes. For dessert he can step into the or chard and help himself to the finest oranges in the world. In such a cli mate, then, why should not bananas be grown in the open air ? Florida Cracker Names. A “ sand scrub” in Florida is a sand bank or hill, where, on account of the poverty of the soil, the trees and shrubs grow very low and “ scrubby.” These spots are sometimes of but a few acres in extent, and again they cover several hundred acres. The immigrant is generally puzzled to know what a “sand scrub” is. An Iowa man showed his knowledge of the Florida terms in the following manner: Land ing at Lakeland, several years ago, when that place was the terminus of the South Florida railroad, he attempt ed to reach Bartow, fifteen miles distant, in the good old-fashioned, though very popular, way—on toot. He had just come from a plane of firm footing, and ere he reached his desti nation he fully realized that Florida sand was a “ hard road to travel.” Weary, and no doubt somewhat dis gusted, he approached a cabin by the roadside and meekly asked the inmate, a woman, to direct him on his way. The lady kindly told him to proceed in the direction he was going about a mile, when he would come to a “ sand scrub” and there he should take the left hand road and follow that till it passed a “ bay head” on one side and a big “ permeter patch” on the other, an^ go on till he came to a-“gallberry flat,” where he would strike the main road leading out through a big “grass pond” into the “flat woods,” where he -would find a boy “boarding ofl” corn, and he could tell hinrbetter than she could. The Hawkeye bowed gracefully, and with a far-away look in his eye ambled on his now. most mysterious way, revolving in his per plexed cranium the meaning of all this. Having gone, as he thought, about a mile, he began to look for something, he.knew Dot what. Pres ently he met a small boy, whom he accosted : “Say, bub, are you a sand, scrub ?” “No,” answered the youth, “I’m a cra.ckei.” The boy soon en lightened the traveler’s bewildered un derstanding by directing his attention to a “sand scrub” just ahead. Out friend found his way to Bartow, and ■\ low, we believe, a resident of Polk inty, and familiar with the ten t so perplexed him dn his fii ^lorida journey.— M e a d {Fla.') Piot T he ebuntry will be very glad to --------- ------------------- learn that the miners in the anihraoite T h e biggest day in immigration that region will not strike ss.wajs antioi*' Outle Garden has ever sden wm pated. People bate paid enough strike Wednesday, when ten tbonaand pSO' dkitsigimtm Vomit p o tSi^ |ple wweJwSded. IS n o w , steaming hot grog and cigars they chatted about the superstitions cou BIRDSSEA. itittoua Sailor* ITie r* of the Feathered Vrihe. R. T. Mall and JExpresa Sailors are credited with being the most superstitious persons living. They have whims, fancies and beliefs connected with every ordinary occur rence of daily life, and their actions are all influenced by some one or more of these occurrences. On land they watch for black cats, cross-eyed people, ladders and many other objects, and on sea their lives are- made happy or unhappy by many of the lesser rather than the greater scenes of the voyage They are believers in fate, and when ^ sea they say their fate is more or 1^8 influenced by the birds that come and perch oh their masts or yards. An old and educated sea captain, who has weathered many storms, been shipwrecked a dozen times and who is yet hearty and hale, was met recently on one of the wharfs that surround this city by a reporter. The weather beaten tar and the scribe adjourned to a neighboring hostelry, and over some ------ , the nected with birds at sea. “Yes,” said the captain, as he blew a long, thin column of smoke through his lips and watched it curling fantas tically through the.air. “Yes, we have a few little fancies when at sea about birds, and some are a little scared when a gull or a swallow perches on our mast; but, as a rule, we are pleased to see these feathery beauties, espec ially after a long voyage, for then we know we are nearing land and will soon be among our friends again. The belief of old sailors is that if an albatross be slaughtered, it at once be comes necessary to keep one’s weather eye lifting for squalls, but that no harm follows if the bird be caught with a piece of fat pork and is allowed to die a natural death on deck. The common house sparrow is much respected at sea. It is gravely asserted that should sparrows be blown away to sea and alight upon a ship, they are not to be taken or even chased away, for in pro portion as the birds are molested must sail be shortened to provide against the storm that will certainly come. The harmless and beautiful gull, whose lovely sweepings and curvings through the air, whose exquisite self-balancing capacity in the teeth of a living gale, whose bright eyes, salt, shrewd voice and webbed feet folded in bosoms of ermine, it is impossible to sufficiently admire, has a commercial virtue that sets it high in the longshoreman’s cata logue of things to be approved. 'When this bird appears in great numbers then is its presence accepted as an in fallible sign of the - neighborhood of herring shoals. “It is reooned a bad sign for ravens to perch on the mast of a ship. There is an old superstition that the rotten timbers of foundered ships. generate birds. Even a dead bird may prove a Soothsayer, according to Jack, for, says he, if a kingfisher be suspended to the mast by its beak it will swing its breast in the direction of the coming wind. Years ago swallows were deemed nn- lucky at sea. If a kite perches on the mast the omen is a good one. A crow lighting on a ship is accepted as a sure sign of prosperous winds, and they feed the bird with crumbs of bread by way of coaxing it to remain. It is said in the English Channel fishermen attribute the east wind to the flight of the curlew on dark nights.” Life of the Russian Peasan’s. Mnie. Durand (Henri Greville) in a lecture in Philadelphia said : “ Rus sian peasants are the common bread of life. That is why I love them. Few people have gone into their sor rows and happiness as I have. To gain their love and esteem one must work hard. They struggled through- so much oppression and cruelty that -they could scarcely realize the free dom that came to them. Their dear est friends are the rivers and the for ests iyith which Russia is covered. Berries, mushrooms, brown bread, vegetables and oil is their food. They live in one room, with a table and benches for furniture. They never heard of a bed, a mattress or a pillow. They'are sinful luxuries. They sleep sheepskin bag, with the wool in side. A Stove built of bricks is in the center of one’s room. “Doctors are not sent for when one i sick. ‘Go lay on the the injunction. Some on th hot stove,’ is Some get v/ell, some do not. Fast days take up nearly one-half of the year. They fast and fast and drop and die. Most families have ten or twelve children. When manhood’s estate is reached there are three or four left. The lirt, ’R us half the enerally but regn n’t cheat the rich they che: generally but three or tour left. 1 he children grope along in the dirt, feed on black bread and. onions,ns, have bigg 1 go isants are great liars. When th< imachs, wide waists', are natured. The stomachs, and good have bi e fat, chubby 'he Russian other. In summer they a time swimming in the river ter they cut holes through of ice to get water for their house holds .—New Orleans Times Democrat. three feet FtraTHEK news, from Mexico shows that the reported Tolcanoes opened in poDBectioQ with the earthquakes will not stand investigation. Bntihe alleg ed phenomena of landslides, Assures, mud upheavals and the drjflng of springs still “hold the fort.” One cre vice which was opened is described as being from six to eigteeii inohesin width and twenty-flve miles long. Earthquake sbockii continue, sufficient to keep tlM inhabitantf in a prajerful jrnaaAtmim ihsix bast Ubavior. Coming to America. T en T ltousand E aropenn* a t Oastle €!an> den in One'Day* Nine steamers arrived at New York ' on 'Wednesday last heavily loaded 'with emigrants. They numbered about ten thousand and included beside the usual German,. Italian, Irish and English contingent,' a large percentage of Fins and Norwegians. Finland is contrib uting largely of her peasantry this year. The Italian emigration is also increasing. The largest proportion of the emigrants go directly to the west and northwest, and some to the south west. Many go to Utah. The Mor mon saints are industrious in recruit ing among the peasant class in all the European countries, especially so in the norfcbern countries, such as Nor way and Sweden. Three hundred Mormons arrived at Castle Garden last week en route to Utah. These facta show that the year 188.7 is likely to be remarkable for emigration statistics. The record of 1882 shows the largest number of emigrants arrived in any one year. The arrival at Castle Garden of flve or six thousand emigrants within forty- eight hours presents a picture that is unparalleled. There is but one Castle Garden in the world. No other west ern seaport has such a gate of entry and house of refuge for migratory peo ples. There is, of course, nothing of the sort in Europe or Asia. It is not at first' especially alluring to view the raw material as it arrives at Castle Garden. The thousands that emerge every week frem the dark and unsavory interiors of the huge ocean steamers do not seem to be entrusted with a special mission to make this country happier and richer. Observe the Italians first, because they are first to attract the visitor’s attention by their loud and gesticulating manner. They are, of course, full of new im pressions, and in trying to let each other have the benefit thereof they use emphasis of the strongest kind. They are all brimful of hope. If it were not for the ocean breezes, they would stay in the terra della liberfa forever. Their exterior is what in Italy would be called “highly romantic,” but which is very freely translated into English, “dirty.” The original airy attire, good enough for the sunny land of lemons, is patched -in a thousand and one places, to keep out the rude greetings of churly old Boreas. These Italians ' generally possess little of the ambition of thgir great countryman, Julius Au gustus Caesar. They are satisfied to engage in the battle of life either as. bootblacks, organ-grinders or second hand fruit dealers. It could hardly be called a want of politeness if one of the officials at Castle Garden were to call ^ the attention of our tawny sons of the south to the washing apparatus intend ed especially for their benefit. The Bohemians and divers others Slavonic tribes that sometimes crowd Castle Garden seem not to have suf- ^ fered too severely from the refining in fluences of civilization. They do not seem to be very thoroughly instructed on the different uses of water; in plain English, they seldom wash. But the Russians never wash. 'With them it is a matter of principle. The Bohemians and Italians, it may be, are open to persuasion, bi^notbing short of actual— force will do for the Russian. • The Norwegians and Scandinavians,' in genera], are a fine and intelligent looking race. They learn English fast, and, next to the Germans, are gener ally the first to leave Castle Garden. The Germans, are, most of them, shy and timid but honest looking fellows. They are about the only ones that ever indulge in the luxury of an intellectual enjoyment, such as the reading of news- »ers. The Italians are too “roman- and the Bohemians too stupid to read. The latter, in fact resemble the Indians a great deal; they don’t talk unless talked to. They never learn EnglisR You might as well try to teach Bohemian to our American boys. ~>^ The few French that land at Castle Garden show conspicuously their de termination to speak French only. “I no spik Anglaise”.is their whole stock of knowledge of foreign languages. The English are forever putting on airs. They think themselves vastly superior to their fellow emigrants and are at exceeding pains to- make this known as widely as possible. The sons of Erin are always in fighting mood. Their first impression of this country is, “What a foine counthry to fight in !” They enjoy a little row. But they are all willing to work, and are not long idle. If we. remember that, generally speaking, a few months suffice to make decent looking and sensible people out of the heterogjeneous masses that land at Castle Garden, we must insist that ntry has ever exercised a whole- somer influence on mankind than the United States of America. rio” a The Habit o f Complaining. The willingness, cheerfulness and determination to do our duty, with which we accept all the conditions of life, is the powerful lever with which to lift the weight, no matter how heavy. There is a great deal in habit, and some women are in the habit of constantly complaining, until they really believe their lot in life is harder to bear than anybody else, and they get to look upon things as “just their their luck.” I heard of a conversation once that illustrates this idea. An old lady who was telling her troubles to a friend and saying she was tired, there was so much to do it seemed to her she would never have any rest, when her friend to comfort her, said: ‘Never mind, my sister, this wearisome life will not last always, there will be rest in the grave,” to which the other re plied ; “I don’t know, it would not surprise me if the day after I was buried, it would be the resurrection and I would have to get right u p ; it would, just be mj luok,” and she really be lieved the resurrection-would be called for her annoyance. Don’t fret and worry mothers over the cares of life, make all the sunshine in your homes you con, take time from your daily la bors to give some time each day or evening and gather your children around you and make the hour an en- joyoaeni lor tbem and jonreell.-r*-A(- Jmnf0
