{ title: 'The Columbia Republican. (Hudson, N.Y.) 1881-1923, December 15, 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/sn89071100/1887-12-15/ed-1/seq-1/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-12-15/ed-1/seq-1.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-12-15/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn89071100/1887-12-15/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
Image provided by: New York State Library
SCROFULA ! 1 ’ 1 : ’i ii; \ .* ; Aj *'«'' ^ xv \‘\ . I :m ( '. I 1 :t- :i o [ l»^i‘ Jt!:- [iH' r*. it is to <*s stn ii:r{!i :ii»ij \\. i \ t.> ih<‘ »/v clv, Humors, \r!™ siKl liiMi :iMv Uiiiin.'i.Xo.Liiiii.Lt'.i). Erysipelas, I triy.l ' “!! so: !s or n nu'dios Canker, and Catarrh, coMv.itMictnl usin^j A y c r ’s S:«>;ipanii;u A Her ten bot tles of {his incdu'iiKr I aiii coiih'U’toJy v'hnd. —Auu-y C. *Vim-.s!jiir\u iloekiM.>rt, Afe. 1 hiive siifh rt'«l, for >ear.N, fro.u Catiinli, which was so sovcre that ii. JrslrOM*iI luy apijeliie and \vx*:ikeju*d inysysli-m. A fh r try- \nx Ollier Vcinedi-s, a:ul ucUtr.ir j.«> n Jh f. t Can fas 'J cureo by 1 n y r I f V i n fs ’ Mass. is superior to an v blood lauiiicr tiiiit I have the blood with <vi” In'pii. T tiiUcii it lor Scrofula, (-a u lc e r , aiiil Salt- Uhoum, ami received ii.ui h benefit from it. I Un.atord, ilass. Ai'er’s Sarsaparilla, rOR PITCHER’S C a storia promoteg Plgesitlon, and overcomes Flatulency, Constipation, Sour Stomach, Biarrhoea, and Feverishness. Thus the child is rendered healthy and its deep naturaX C a s toria contains no Morphine or other narcotic property. “ Castoria is so well adapted to children that I recommend it as superior to any prescription known to me.” H. A. AncatEH, M. D., 82 Portland Are., Brooklyn, hT. Y. Tas CsasTATO Co., 77 Murray St., K. T. CARTER’S S £ 2 i‘.r S K L “ K ''S\' 5 S.\ 5 ,;: C A J a T E R a iJ S O IC X M B CO ., Kew Y o rk City. ® m . § r p n ^ Son:, 0 f % €amt]a. Cfim s: $ 1.50 px I'm , ifi V O L U M E 68 . H U D S O N , N . T . , T H U K S D A T , D E C E M B E R 15 , 1887 . N U M B E R 50 f o t t r g . A L I T iX E SCHOLAK. While their lessons lor the morrow, ir children 1 ly toddler with a look of grave concern. On her lap she spreads a volume, Till the bee-like droning ceases! III Deg my little wren Por a kiss, I get this answer: ‘‘Four and six and two acd ten.’ At hl3 very busy playmi Pu33y looks With bllnl Then she stands him In the corner. blinking eyes; In the cor: I surprise; book belore 1 Though he mews a protest then, Ehe la teaching puss his lesson— “Four and sis and two and ten.” In the tranquil hush of bed- time. When the good-night kisses fall. From her lonely little corner My wee scholar then I call; And I ask how much she loves me- • Press her rose-lips once again; While she hugs me and she whispers, “Four and six and two and ten,” —George Cooper, in Earper's Young People. THE KOJ^M E S. The nobodies are an overwhelm ing majority of the human race. O f the 1,400,000,000 of people on the globe to-day, how many have ever been heard of beyond the narrow cir cle of their village or neighborhood ? Certainly not one in a million. O f the millions of millions who have lived and died since the creation of Adam, how few have left any me morial ? O f how few do we know the names even ? If, then, nobody- ism is the common lot, why should not you and I be willing to be no bodies Is it not enough for us to live as the majority of our kindred have lived and are living ? The earth, which God has given to the sons of men, is a great family mansion. In its various stories the overwhelming majority of our brothers and sisters toil on quietly from day to day, un noted and unknown. But a few rest less ones persist in sitting upon the window sills or climbing up to the chimney tops. By doing so they make themselves conspicuous. But are they any better olF than the rest They have hard work to keep their places, and those who see them are ley any of us ? They are not as well off. than to admireire them.em. Thehe menn andnd much more likely to envy or criticise than to adm th T me a women who have been discontented with the common lot, and scorned being - nobodies, have taken notoriety for fame. If they could only get the world to talk about them they imagined that they would be happy ; and finding that the world cared more for what is startling than for what is useful, that it preferred to be astonished, or even shocked, to be instructed, they have cultivated eccentricities or even per petrated crimes in ordei to make for themselves a name on the earth. Every reader can test this matter for himself. L e t ' him make out a list of the people outside of the circle of his daily intercourse that he knows by name, that he has read about in the newspapers, and write opposite to each why he is known, and it will be found that three-quarters of them are cranks or scoundrels. They have pushed themselves into notoriety by some glaring absurdity or some start ling crime. The honest, plodding cashier whose accounts balance to a penny, will not be on your list. There are thousands of s.uch in banks andnd counting-roomsnting-rooms all overer the land. a cou all ov t But they toil and die unknown, just because they are honest; while the half dozen embezzlers and defaulters of the year have their names paraded in head lines, and the great world is ;o. be intensley interested in supposed t them.— Oi Obadiah Oldschool. r Try a Bottle To-day 1 B 3 Arc you low-spirited and weak,||| j^wIU cure you* Iji Send 3 2-cent Btamps to A. V. Ordway * Co., SJoston.tiaea.. for best xnedicAi work published? LADIES ^I^^^AREgufmY.la CHURCH F A IR S IN HUDSON AND VICINITY, about to be bold tor tbe boUdays, wiu receive dc aatloa by addressliig mil particulars to W. D. HOLMES, 63 West Fonrteentb street. New Tort City. NOV.8-4W I f ORK FOR AUL expentet paid, i aKdiaU pafbculiSs ___ ■ Tgnsta, Me Don’t m u t mu oTumoe, SWINDLERS ABROAD. HOW AMERICANS ARE FLEECED BY THE WOMEN IN LONDON. A Good Place for Strangers to Keep Away From—Skotclies of Daric X.ifo in the British Metropolis—A Bit of Ex perience. species that renp.s tbe harvest. Prote her sex, the disinclination of a man to pro ceed against a woman, the ease with which she can blast the character of a man ay the reason of the readiness wo accept a stoiy which attributes unholy lust to our fellow creature, are all known factoi-s to her in the problem of making a livelihood. Beginning at the lowest class—^tho London street walker —^j’ou find them in Lemdon in larger num bers, bolder and more persistent than in any place in the world. The larger number cruise about the Criterion, where there is a favorite American bar. After 11 o’clock till 1 or 1:30 o’clock in the morning this congregation is one of the sights of the city, and the traveler generally sees it. His danger there is not gre.atei-than m auyotner similar company, unless he should be beguiled by some of these midnight skens. They are there by thou sands, the sidewalks and oven the street itself filled -n-ith them and those who come to be preyed upon, gilded youth and ho.aiy age, chaffing, laughing, swearing and singing in one vast saturnalia in the midst of the most boasted civilization. The ‘‘hobbies” move among them to keep everybody else moving and watching for lawless outbreaks, of which they have few to repress, but other official functions he does not assume. Turning from these the visitor, with much new matter for reflection, walks to his hotel. It matters not in what direction it may be, strange figures of women will flit across his pathway, curious inquii'ing faces will be un expectedly thrust into his own, and vague forms standing in obscure corners will ob serve liim as he strays through the otherwise deserted streets. Beware of the one who ad dresses you. Do not reply if you can avoid it, but under no circumstances stop and par ley with her, for you invite one of the most common dangei-s that London offers the stranger within its gates. Let me take an illustration fui-nished from the private experiences of a gentleman from Pittsburg who lodged in Russell square, and who strolled home from the Gayety theater by way of Drury lane and Bedford place. He had just turned into Bedford square when he encountered a woman standing hesitat ingly on tho corner, peering in each dii-ection as one who had lost the way. “1 beg your The polite America'a stopped. Yes, although a stranger, he could and would tell her the way—follow this street around Russell square into Woburn place to St. Pancras’ church— the fii*st church on tho right—turn to the right there and tho Midland station would be your way i “Ko,” she replied, “Thank you, much obliged; but you can’t go in unless you give me £o.” And she got between him and the \Five pounds, my good madam! What “Five pounds. You have beguiled me to walk with you, assaulted me and tried to in duce me to come to your rooms. Five pounds, or I scream for heln.” An invalid wife with in, an urbs incognita without, a hasty thought of the conditions, a hearty curse, a smile from the lady, who pushed the crisp note into her bosom, and our friend was standing alone, perspiration falling like rain from his forehead. A rHIENh’S ADVICE. The next day he told his friend, a London friend, ahuut it. “Bless your transatlantic heart,” said he, “you do not suppose that such dangers menace usl Why, we live here. Ifc is the stranger who is preyed upon. Should a woman address you again and threaten to scream you seize her by the wrist and tell her to scream and ypu’H wait till the olHoers come. She’ll break away and run and you must let her do it.” Sure enoqgh he was soon waylaid again. Tho question was for a chemist shop, spoken in tones so pregnant with grief and distress that the American stopped, despite his resolu tion never to exchange a word with the un protected London female. “I want a pound,” said the woman. \Give it to me or I will call for the police.” ’“You call them,” said the American, seiz ing her arm. “I’ll hold you till they come.” And she did call, and the police came and es corted them both to the station house. The inspector on duty entertained a cross charge and locked them both up. Tho magistrate In the morning fined the woman two and six, and told the American bis position was open to a very reprehensible construction and ho had better look out. Tho American was so mad that ho paid the woman’s fine, deter mined that justice such as that should not have tho gratification of looking tho woman up. As a reward for all this the newspapers all published » report of the “eccentric Amer ican;” his wife got well enough to voyage home on the Saturday Cunarder, and he fol lowed alone in the \White Star ship on the Jones’ Corner Lot. Mobile Register. It is natural for Mank nd to be mean and jealous, and hence it is wonder that we find people prophesy ing the downfall of our iron centers. They do not actually wish it, but when crack-brained Jones comes and tells us that he has bought a lot in Birmingham or Sheffield for $500, and now has an offer of ^2,500 which he will not take, and not a cent under $4,000 will get it, we are naturally incensed at Jones for being so lucky, and a faint hope begins to bud way down in our lower regions that Jones and his lot will come to grief. Not that we dislike Jones or doubt that he has made a good investment, but we a shade angry at ourself because we did not buy that very lot before Jones thought of it. In our righteous indignation at our own stupid conser vatism we fail to do Jones justice ; and then, too, we dislike the way Jones states his case. He makes too great a parade over it. He insults our intelligence by flaunting his own wis dom in our face. If he were to ap proach the subject mildly and with becoming modesty, and say that as he is a poor man this lucky venture will prove a great help for his family, we could stand it and even congratulate him ; but we happen to know exactly what Jones is going to do with his land winnings. He is going to buy a fast horse and ride around in a bugg] and talk about conservatism in pol tics. He will tell us when we sug gest a slight loan that money is very sensitive. After a while he will pre side at public meetings, and the ladies will hunt him up to head subscriptions for charities. W c know Jones, and hence we lean towards an utter i lation of his dream of grandeur. Kibs, uu LUO mere meuLiuii ui wuicu uiere i before the vision of all the old boys daii muslins, pink ribbons, rosy cheelcs and Rs braudt shadow. The very air seems redolent of heliotrope; laughter like the ripple of a hidden brook trembles in the distance, qjid the good right arm feels again the fafnt sti'ugglo of modesty upon it. How tawdry, how coarse and revolting seems the stage spasm compared with this. NO, the best kiss ing after all is what tho circumstances make it. The circumstances that surround the old fashioned Georgia picnic make it simply de lightful. The young man who is led off by the stage kiss irops the substance for the shadow and is to be pitied.—^Macon Telegraph. Explained at Last. Dr. Norman Kerr, of London, explains what is the matter with drunkards as fol lows: “There is an abnormal cei;ebral condi tion, a dynamical and psychical disturbance of the brain and nerve function, a real de parture from sound health, which is itself a patliologieal state with, in all probability, its postmortem equivalent in hyperplasma of the neuroglia.” Paste this in your hats and read it to any man that offers to treat. Ten to one he will skip.—Hew \York Tribune. How Xhacltoray Named “Vanity Fair.” In the earliest days-of our friendship ho brought his morning \work to read to me in the evening; he had just commenced “Vanity Fair,” and was living at tho Old Ship inn, where bo wrote some of the first numbers. He often then said to me: “I wonder whether this will take, the publishers accept it and tho world read it?” I remembet answering him that I had no reliance upon my own critical powers in literature, but that I had witten to my sister, Mrs. Frederick Elliot, and said, “I have made a great friendship ivith one of tho principal contributors of Punch—Mr. Thackeray; he is now writing a novel, but cannot hit upon a namo for it. I may bo wrong, but it seems to mo the cleverest thing I ever read. The first time be dined with us I was fearfully alarmed at him. Tho next day wo walked in Chichester park, when ho told all about his little girls, and of his great friendship -with tho Brookflelds, and I told him about you and Chesham place.\ \When he heard this and my opinion of his novel ho bm-st out laughing and said: “Ah! Mademoiselle (as he always called mo). It is not small beer; but I do not know whether it will bo palatable to tho London foUcs.” Ho told me some time afterward that, after ran sacking his brain for a name for his novel, it namo upon him unawares in the middle of tho night, ns if a voice had whispered “Van ity Fail-.” He said: “I jumped out of bed, and ran three times round my room, uttering as I went, ‘Vanity Fair, Vanity Fair, Vanity Fair.’”—“-Mi® K ite Perry’s Recollections of Mr. Thackeray” in Scribner’s. HOW FOLKS SHAKE HANDS A FEW TYPES WITH WHICH MOST OF US ARE FAMILIAR. A tack of Pervor in the Greeting—Con- doscenslon—.a. Cold, Clammy Orlx>—The Pump Handle—Gushing—Dignified—The Grip of Friendship. The bony shake is not confined to either sex; it may be found alike in tall and short, stout and thin; and consists of an offer of tho bones only of the right hand; not until your band closes round tbe shaker’s palm can you greeting; there is no responsive grip to your own, but the muscles only of the fingers and the palm lie in your hand, as though you it which may be fitly de oil edge, and in whose unexpressive eyes you can find no trace of sympathy or feeling. The bony fingers should have already warned you that to trust such a one will entail on you disaster and defeat. The Condescending Shake.— Have you never felt it? How lightly the fingers (some times three, seldom four and never the whole hand) drop into your palm; you do the shak ing, because the condescending fingers lie passive in your ^ ‘asp, and tho hand itself would tell you, if it could, how much it fee thee ineffablefable sweetnesseetness of its own dispositioisposi th inef sw of its own d m even allowinging you soo greatreat a privilivilege. you have Tom had a you s g a pr The same hand once maybe met yom-s with a Biiial as your own, but you have fall, and curious, isn’t it, to see cause jffect? The genial handshake has be more high toned and placid, and the nervous grasp of the fingers is changed for a gentle dropping of tho digits in your out stretched band. The Fishy Shake,—Cold and clammy strikes the hand you grasp, giving you a feeling of dissatisfaction and disgust as you instinctively tliink of Uriah Heep, and, under one pretext or another, furtively take out your pocket handkerchief to wipe off the moisture which seems to have passed from the palm of the shaker into yours. Possessed, as a rule, by those whose tempers have gone wrong, whose milk of human kindness has turned sour, or whose hidden purposes it is impossible to fathom, the clammy hand frequently belongs to those with whom it is not pleasant to deal. In all fiction the ghostly hand is icy cold, or else a fishy, clammy grasp—either will do to fill up the ban-owing detail. Even gi-im death himself is supposed to touch us with a similar grasp. Take \warning in time; never try and perpetrate a joke with a man who has a fishy handshake for a greeling. The Mechanical Shake.—Who is not fa miliar with the action of a pump handle as it is pushed up and down, and iu some hand shakes the same principle is at work. There is no soul in it; the lifting up and down of the arm, which, when it is released, falls down flat against the ownei’’s side; the me chanical utterance of a few commonplace words .spoken like an automaton, all these tell you enough of the character of the man who stands before you. You cannot gather grapes from thorns, or else you might expect mira cles to occur again on earth; and if you think there is any enthusiasm below the sur face in the mind of the meobanical shaker, why all we ask is try and force it out of him if you can. The Gushing Shake.—The how-are-you shake, with the how very large and loud, the sort of greeting that fairly takes your breath away and makes you fear you will be eaten before you know it—the jolly man or the jolly woman, to whom life is a pleasure and whose existence is a series of delights, who wants everybody to be as happy as he is himself and whose flow of spirits fairly infects you with some measure of the same good humor; your usual sobermindedness, may be, comes to the rescue just in time, however, and you get over the slight attack of unwonted frivolity; yet when the shaker has gone It almost seems as if a ray of sunshine had shown on you, and the day seems all the brighter for the gleam. The Dignified Shake.—Much affected by your opinions to the lady o r gentleman jov, have now met, but—one touch of tho hand, and away flies the fancy! Like the frozen mutton of the antipodes, you will want thaw ing in the warmth of friendship before you can talk to any one again; and, as the gush ing shaker gave you life and light, so the dig- |f niiied shaker gives you a douche of cold water, which takes away your energy and j spirits for the day. Tho Friendly Shake.—The hearty grasp, which, without being too violent, either to crush the bones or to hurt the fin- gem, is yet warm enough, fervid enough, to tell you that the shaker’s heart is right. You have only to look into the eyes of such a one to bo able to read tho honesty of puipose that shines through the lamps of the soul; a grasp that tells of a loving heart, in whose recesses there are sympathies that can share the woes as well as the joys of oth ers; that can afford to laugh at the narrow minded, the selfish and the wicked; but can offer to those whom they respect the genial band shake, wherein every muscle, every nerve, tells of a desire to do all they can to cheer the path in life of those they meet, and inspire within their fellow creatux'es’ hearts the knowledge that there are among us still those who are ready to offer at all times and seasons the fervid grasp that tells of friend ship, of fellowship and good will.—^Home Journal. _____ e __________ A Professional Beggar’s Generosity. A friend of mine tells me that late the other night he was addressed on the street by one of the kind who represent themselves as sorely in need of a night’s lodging and be seech the gift of a few cents to make up the price required. Thinking to turn the tables upon the mendicant, my friend pulhd alu- grubious face, heaved a sigh and said: “I wish I could help you, but I’m out of work, I’m too lame to walk to my lodging and I am looking for some one to lend me five cents to got there in the horse cars.” Quickly diving his hand into his pocket and exclaiming, fer- iffer if I can help nickel, which he t d and was off bel made.—Boston Post. A Use for I The other day I saw a boy give a banana skin to a horse which helps street cars up the iueline from Cornhill to State street on Washington. It was eaten with evident rel ish, and it struck me that I had rarely seen a happier use of a very dangerous article. ■ ■ iarted people should make iiefit of draugh des of our stre things receive so much 111 treatment from evil disposed passers by that the better dis posed should be glad to make them some com- pensation.i-Boston Post, ______ ___ _ „ gentleman. “Wo can’t breathe any other a t night. The choice is between probably pm-a air from without and certainly foul air from -within. Half the diseases from which we suffer are caused by keeping the windows down. The quietness, tho absence of dust and smoke, etc., make night the bast time for airing a patient. In great cities night air is often the purest that can bo hod in the twenty-four hours. It is conceded that the air in LondonTs never so good as after 10 o’clock at night. Windows are made to open, doors are made to sh yet too many of us seem to forget that, keep bedroom windows open these sumn DRIVING A FINE ART. AN EXPERT DISCOURSES ON THE NICETIES OF RIBBON HANDLING. Good, Bad and Indifferent OrlTers—The Hansom Terror Coming Into Fashion, different Styles of Hrlving—Managing; a Four-in-Hand. “Ah, driving isn’t as easy as it looks,\ the “horsey man” began. “There are too many downright idiots trusted with reins and whips, and it’s a wonder there are not more accidents than there are. Some of them don’t realize the danger and more of them don’t cave. Half grown boys ar# always most to be dreaded sitting behind horses, and espe cially in crowded streets, for there they can do a power of mischief to other people. On country roads they can rarely hurt any one but themselves. I don’t mean fast driving, because it isn’t often such fools are ti-usted with speedy cattle. Yet a man may be nm over and hurt or killed by a slow animal just as weU as by a fast trotter. The driving I mean is what I call ‘sloppy’ driving, where the rehis hang half loose over the dashboai-d, and the animal is never under control until after an accident has happened. Then, again, some of the fools Pm speaking about drive with such a tight rein that they stop tho circulation round the horse’s mouth, and they might as well try to pull up a cyclone as at tempt to check even a slow beast in that state when he’s frightened and starts to run away. Women don’t, as a rule, drive well, although some of them do. They’re too fidgety, shak ing the reins and slashing with the whip. They’re worse than files, some of them, to a nervous horse, and nearly all of them want too much continuous work out of an animal. SPBAKlNa OF BAD DBTVERS. \It stands to reason, doesn’t it, that a horse can’t go at top speed all the time? I know a man can’t do it, and I don’t see why a horse should be expected to do an impossibility. But you can’t persuade some ladies of that; they keep on flicking the animal with the whip and nagging at him with the reins, for all the world as if he were a contrary hus band.\ “You speak of bad drivers. How can that be remedied?’ “It can only be done with the drivers of public conveyances and licensed drivers gen erally. You don’t trust a steam boiler or a locomotive to a man until he knows how to handle it, do you? Of course not. Then why should you trust him with a horse that’s often just as dangerous as any high pressure boiler that ever was built? Why should a man that wants to earn his living by driving horses not be called upon to prove that he can do it? “Look at those cab drivers we’ve got. Why, some of them don’t know and don’t care where or how they go. They cut in be hind vehicles and pop out upon people, either frightening them to death or driving over them. Then there are those fellows who drive two and three horse wagons. Look how some of them turn corners. As a rale, however, men who drive heavy vehicles are more careful, because of the weight behind them and the room they need to make a cm’ve, but these light eai‘t chaps are mostly as bad as they make them, and cab drivers, when they’re careless, are worse than any. Hansoms are coming into fashion now in this city, and if they’re not looked after they’ll bo a regular terror to pedestrians, although they’ve got an easy job because they sit quite behind the whole of the thing they drive. The worst of them is, that they look one way and drive another, unless they’ve got a fare inside, and then they go as if the devil was behind them, which he ought to be, with a good chance of catching up with them.” “STYLE” IN DRIVING. “What do you think about ‘style’ in driv- “That there’s as much difference iu that as there is in walking or doing anything else. A regular coachman’s driving Is not at all like a swell’s handling the ribbons. If a gentleman has a pair or a single before him ,he rarely moves his left hand away from in front of him at the height somewhere about the fourth button of his waistcoat, with the whip laid across his hand under his thumb, using the first two fingers of his right hand only upon tho reins. And bo mustn't do this stifidy, but as easy as if he were holding a cambric handkerchief or a lady’s fan. Of course I’m speaking of a man who sits above his animal. Thera can be only one way of driving a buggy, and every man of any sense knows how to do that, if he can drive “How about a four-in-hand?” “I think that very few gentlemen ever learn to do that properly. It is a regular coachman’s business at the best and must be done in coachman’s sbyle. You see, there’s such a bunch of ribbons in a four-in-hand that a man’s mind is pretty well occupied, and he must put it into the work, just leav ing enough to spare to manage the whip. That’s a study in itself. How very few men can flick a fly off a leader’s ear and by the same motion of the wrist make the lash whip itself round the stick .n graceful rings, until the main part of the lash is the only large loop left hanging, as the part near the end comes up under his right thumb. I’ve known men to practice that trick for weeks off the the coach and when they tried it on the real thing get the whole affair into such a snarl that it looked like a Chinese puzzle.”—^New xiie xnnnaatlon or tue ^iie. When the time approaches for the inundar tion the Arab fai-mer is all expectancy. His canals are cleared and he protects his home by dikes and walls of adobe. This done, seated at his door, he watches with satisfac tion and gratitude the rise and approach of the water which holds his little wealth. It is several months rising to its greatest height, and then as slowly and gradually subsides. Then appears again to his delighted vision the husbandman’s farm. His palm trees seem to rise to a greater reach, and their waving branches add to the sense of cairn and content which pervades all. Already his well filled canals have defined themselves, and his iiTi- gatiiig machinery is at once put in repair. There is no more use for the boats which have served to carry him from place to place during the inundation. They are hidden among the rashes on the banks of the canaL Every available person Is now pressed into the service. If tho thin deposit of mud left by the departing river is kept moist, its value remains at par. If the hot sun is allowed to play upon it unopposed, it soon becomes baked and curls up into tiny cylinders; then, breaking into fragments, it falls dead and worse than useless. Therefore tho process of irrigation must begin at once. The rude sakiyeh and the ruder shadoof are kept going night and day, •nd give employment to tens of thousands of the people and cattle as welL \With these primitive appliances the water Is lifted and emptied into tho channels which have been dug or diked to receive it. From these larger receptacles the water is led to smaller ones, which, overflowing, cover the In a little time, then, a Nile farm becomes a rare beauty spot, instead of a waste of mud; for now the crops are grown. The lentils A Left Handed Barber. “I had a jieouliar experience the other day,’' said a city hall oificiM. “I was shaved by a left handed barber and It was very queer. Did you ever try it? \Well don’t. I was In a constant state of terror so soon ns the man gave mo the first swipe with the razor. It looked so confounded awkward that I ex pected every moment to heor apiecoof ray nose drop on the floor. In reality he gave me a clean shave, but tbe pleasure was spoiled by the anticipation of pain. I’ve had a left handed barber cut my hair before this and I didn’t mind it, but I ’ll excuse left banded shavew in the future,”— -Phlbidelpbia XUectric 3HCeteorology« Mr. G. A. Rowell, of Oxford, sends ns a pamphlet with, the above title, in which he discusses the cause of the changes in magnetic declination. He adduces evi- vvuiuu UUX9 bctjuiui.' cimnges m climate. This theory leads to the uncom fortable conclusion that as tho magnetic declination iu- this country continues to -^ t e r s will increase in M a m m a Could B e a t T Austria was taken to a circus and very little . 1 homo tha em- peror asked how she had enjoyed the per formance. “Oh, very well,” the young lady replied, “only mamma does everything the circus women did a great deal better. \Why where nothing amazed her and very lit pleased her. On her return homo tha e: peror asked how she had enjoyed the pi romen did a great deal better. \Why leen her jump through six hoops.” It appears that this is really true, and that tbe empress has on more than one occasion given a strictly private entertainment to her inti mates, in which she hai surprised them with feats rivaling those of tho most skilled circua ridem,—BortoiiJoiinMl.______ THE RED RIBBON. A MIGHTY INCENTIVE TO FRENCH BRAVERY IN BATTLE. Order of the Legion of Honor—Its Insti tution by Kapoleon Bonaparte—An Im pressive Scone-Story of tho Old Guard. The Communists. I was down at Boulogne not long ago and strolled over the immense na‘uural amphi theatre which spreads out on the right of the fort facing tho EngUsh channel, where, in 1804, the troops of France to the number of over 100,000 were looking toward. X^ondon. One particular day in August Napoleon Bona parte drew up this army before the stones that mark the tower that Caesar built. The sky was a cloudless blue, the air so dry and pure that across the waters the outlines of a foreign coast stood sharply defined against green that stretched out before the throne where the Little Corporal was to take his stand, and which was shaded by an ar rangement of the many flags that had been captured from enemies. War horses neighed and stamped their feet, arms sparkled, stand ards shone out brightly and the murmur of soldiers rolled in waves to the foot of this im perial throne, like unto the mighty waves that beat in foaming breakers against tbe rocks where shore and sea are wedded. One hundred thousand heroes were there to see their general fasten with his own hand to the breast of comrades the red and burning flower of battlefields; red, not like tho rose that dudes wear as boutonnieres, nor such a red as women daub on their faces, but red like the flame which is belched from the can non’s mouth in the heat of combat, red like the crimson blood that gushes from the open wound of a saber’s stroke, red like the living hearts of heroes. He made the ribbon red so as to perpetuate on the breast pf those to whom he gave the cross the sublime wounds shook as if with an earthquake, the smoke of gunpowder clouded the sky, and across the shimmering sea England, behind her wooden ships, heard the army thus proclaim the pres ence of one who had already conquered near ly the whole of Europe. Accompanied by his brother, his marshals and many generals, Napoleon mounted the steps of his throne, and the gi’and army gave forth a great cheer that went over the waves and was echoed back by the white cliffs of Albion. Then a deep silence fell on aU. The mighty com- mauder, as grave and solemn as any god that ever graced Olympus, stood up and glanced over his faithful soldiere. Two marshEil^came to his side, one carrying the helmet of Bay ard, the other that of Dugueselin, and ' '' helmets \were filled with crosses of the order. On shield two generals supported more crosses, and private soldiers carried golden eagles that had come from Rome. The military virtues and glories of all the past centuries of French history were thus united to the glorious records of the present that he was writing on the face of the Old \World. The names of those who wore to he mem bers of the new Legion of Honor were then called out, and as they formed in lino those trembled now who had never trembled in the midst of the fiercest carnage. All the legion aries repeated the vow after theii- emperor, and as each glorious name was called it was acclaimed by enthusiastic shouts, the roll of drams, and the cannons’ sound. Thus was the order of the famous Legion d’Honneur instituted under the veiyeyes and within sound of its founder’s most implacable enemy. THE OLD GUARD. ] Some years ago I saw at the Invalides a one armed man in uniform, who was that same day a spectator of this morning scene. He wore the cross on his breast, but it was not given him until later on, and the story of how he came to receive it is a noble one. When the emperor of Russia was visiting the imperor of the French, Napoleon had pa raded on the Champ de Mai's several thousand soldiers. The Old Guard were there and half of them were bearers of terrific wounds. The two emperors stopped their homes to 0 men. It w “My brother, what do you think of soldiers who will stay to take such wounds as those?” asked Napoleon, proudly. “And what do you think of soldiers who could give them?” was the quick reply. Then from the ranks stepped out a private, who lifted his left hand in salute, for the right was gone, and said: “Su‘o, they are all deadl” and he stepped back to his place again. Fi‘om his own breast Napoleon took the cross he wore, beckoned to the man, and then and there pinned It over as brave a heart as ever woi'o a uniform. The “Star of the Brave,” so Lord Byron lauded it, and it is still the acme of martial ambition, os it is also tho dream of Frenchmen. “Why, were you not afraid?” asked a good bourgeois of his soldier nephew lately returned from 'I'on- quin. “Ma foil when I looked 011 this strip Of red ribbon at my breast I didn’t seem to care aboi on at my t a few droj>ps of blood more or less, that it was President nembered that it was iself who gave it to me.” Grevy himself who gave i The only persons in this countiy who nev liked this decoration were the communists.— Pai-is Cor. San Francisco Chronic Bnsssan System of Colonization. The announcement that Russia has or dered all fertile lands along the Murghab river to be colonized sounds strange in this country, where the only colonists the general government orders around are the Oklahoma boomers. When the Czar wishes to populate any green spot in his Central Aslan dominions he orders a lot of Cos sacks to pack up their belongings and be carted off to new homes heyond the deserts, that, like a sea, divive them from their fatherland. It must be said that they thrive well under this violent process of transplanting. The government feeds and shelters them until they have taken root in the new soil. The lovely valley in which Samarcand lies is filled with well tilled farms, whose owners are there simply be cause “ the little father” shaped their des tinies without consulting the humble peas ants who did his bidding. It is thus, doubtless, that tbe Czar \will revive the Merv oasis, which, irrigated by hundreds of channels from the Murghah, once hlos- Bomed like the rose.—New York. Sun, A Metropolis of South America. mos, aide ______ _..pital, has tho west coast of ____ America, and commerce has made its headquarters there. Tlie harbor is spacious, its surroundings picturesque, and ten months in the year shipping is protected, and in midwinter, when “northers” prevail, vessels are often driven from their anchorage and com pelled to cruise aboTit to avoid being dashed upon t'\ stands. A bi entrance to thi protection, but the sea is so deep—^more than 200 fathoms—^that such a work is deemed impracticable. In the bay, drawn u p in lines, like men of war ready : review, are hundreds of crafts, bear- „ the fla^'of almost every nation the earth except our o-wn. The foreign trade is controlled by Englishmen, all commercial transactions render^ in poimds sterh Isspokena on tbe 1 English lan|_ and in the ^ o p s, an English newf published, and' to a stranger the : her majesty’s colonii rspaperis t city the war between C is stimulated by th< —William Bleroy < _ _ _ Qgusn residents.— irtis in Harper’ll ABOUT MESMERISM. Xlic Capital Excited Coacernina' “SaD- Jccis” and ‘‘Senkitives,” This letter will be in the nature of a confession. Last spring, discover ing by accident that I could mesmer ize, I took up mesmerism as a diver sion for the amusement of myself and friends. I had long believed in it entirely, and carefully watched its processes, but I wished to study its philosophy and find out, if I could, the cause and the limits of its myste rious phenomena. I first found that I could, by placing my hand on the forehead of a young acquaintance and accompanying the slight pressure with an imperative command, close his eyes and keep them firmly closed against all efforts of his will. I could compel him to dance or keep him from moving from his tracks; could prevent his rising from his chair; prevent his striking his hands together, and, at last, could prevent him from speaking. In fact I absolutely controlled his voluntary muscles in every respect, and could compel him to do anything that he IS physically capable o f doing. Extending the experiments, I ob tained the same control over others, both men and women, till I had quite a class of sensitives so responsive that I could control them with ease. Up to this time they were all perfectly conscious and without any hallucina tions ; they knew who they were, where they were and what they were doing, and they laughed as heartily at the absurd results obtained as any spectator. Up to this time, too, I had no means of ascertaining whether the apparent results were genuine. I might be the dupe of cunning people who were conspiring to fool me, for in these early stages there seems to be no way of scientifically proving it. It was some time before I was able to carry the experiments turther and get control of the consciousness and senses of my class. At last success came I made them see and hear mus- quitoes and fight the tormentors with great energy. At this point they be came dazed, and it was easy to com mand their senses in other respects. At a suggestion they heard music, the noises of a riot, a thunder storm, the roaring of lions, a speech by Col. Ingersoll, and they gradually came to vividly anything to which I di rected their attention. In this world of hallucination they lost conscious- ■—or, rather, they abandoned their real existence and assumed an abnor mal existence, as one does in a dream. VARIOUS EXPERIMENTS. I am not yet certain whether this strange condition is imposed on them by my will or whether it is self im posed, subjective and the result of expectation on their part. I am in clined to believe the latter theory is true, because when I direct their attention to a horse, for instance, each one sees a different sort of a horse and his head is in difihrent directions. By a few additional passes I can induce a cataleptic state jn which the sensitive becomes perfectly rigid and can be laid out between two chairs, his head on one and his heels another like a hog. They can also be easily made Insensible\ to pain, that pins are stuck through their hands, teeth drawn and painful but harmless acids put in the eye without extorting a sign of feeling. In this way, and others even more conclusive, I have demonstrated the good faith of my I have given several receptions for the entertainment of my friends and record here some result for the bencr fit of those in other cities who choose to try similar experiments. The available class now consists of eight— four gentlemen and four ladies, from 17 to 40 years of age. Two of these (both ladies) I have never been able to take into the region of hallu cinations. I can control them physi cally, can prevent their enclasping their hands, or laying down a fan, or rising from thair chairs, or pronounc ing their own names; but here my iuftuence stops. I cannot make them think that the room is hot or cold, or that mosquitoes are prevalent, or dis turb the testimony of their senses in any way. The other six are lost to the reali ties of life the instant I touch them. One o f them I can put into a sound sleep in a second, and he will sleep until I awaken him. It should be stated here that these sensitives are above the average of intelligence and mental activity. Three of them are clerks in the de partments, one, who took the valedic tory in college, being an artist in the Smithsonain. Two are in business for themselves; one of them a shrewd, sagacious and level headed man as one would meet anywhere, with a shap commercial turn of mind. This man differs from the others in being keenly incredulous—skeptical of his hallucinations when they s?em reasonable. SOME CONCLUSIONS. I know of Jio other thing in which there is so much entertainment as mesmerism. For the benefit o f those who desire to experiment I append certain conclusions from my own ex- • periments here; 1. About one person in ten can be mesmerized. 2. The proportion o f people who have the “power” to mesmerize, if it be a power, I do not know. 3. Mesmerism is a trance and seems to me almost identical with somnam bulism. 4. It is as harmless as sleep. My sensitives occasionally come to me in the day time to be put to sleep for the purpose of obtaining rest. 5. Hallucinations that take place under mesmerism are seldom remem bered in a subsequent walking state, but are generally recalled with vivid ness in a subsequent mesmeric state. 6. Mesmerized objects do not see the objects or people in the room or hear any noise whatever except the voice of the operator. 7. My sensitives could have an arm or a leg amputated, I have no doubt, without suffering any pain. 8. Some of my sensitives are able to tell what goes on behind them, and where they cannot see it, by some occult sense oi which I am ignorant. I am at present pursuing study along this line. Others here are now experimenting, and I think mesmerism is the coming fashionable “ fad.”— 0 ’'. Croffut in d'dezu Torb Udail and Express. GLADSTOJ® AT HOME. Description oi a \Visit to tiio ‘^Graud Old Man’s” Prosperous Estate. I to-day visited tbe castle of the Hon. William E. (xladstone, \where with his family he seems to be enjoy ing tbe solid comforts of homo life, and I am fully confirmed in the impression which I had previously formed of him, that he is one of the grandest charac ters of the age, and for force of manly character I doubt if his equal can be found in England. All honorary titles tendered him he rejects, preferring the plain, simple name of William E. Gladstone. His castle, the only ap propriate name for hie present home, was built in the year 1752, and is con structed of solid granite, iron and ma sonry, and to the eye, as one approach es it, is massiye and imposing, its an gles, minarets and towers giving it a magnificent appearance, and at Queen’s Ferry railroad station, a mile and a half distant, its highest tower is plainly visible above the tops of the lofty oaks and elms surrounding it. The exten sive grounds around the castle are, to say the least, charming and delightful to view, and the venerable trees so giant like and almost defiant iu their stateliness, serve to render the whole scene one of superb grandeur and beauty. Just across a beautiful ravine (and within the castle grounds)—dis tant a hundred yards or more from the structure now occupied by the Glad stone family — stands an old castle erected in the eleventh century, and on . elevation of ground so steep of ascent as to render the approach to the base extremely difficult. On enter ing the main tower one follows up a winding staircase leading some forty feet to a small room in the top—with but one very narrow window—these stairs are so far preserved as to enable one to make the ascent without danger, apparently. The castle wall is in a wonderful state of preservation consid ering its great age. In the second story is a narrow opening, to afford an opportunity to observe the enemy, if in sight, and to let the portcullis fall if by any means the enemy had gained an entrance through the gate into tbe grounds, so as to confront the tower entrance, which is a wide door or opening, , to be closed instantly by the castle is a most hideous looking place, and with its subterranean pas sages, resembling the mouth of an old fashioned brick oven—together with the trap door openings and holes in nooks and corners ; also its elevated Topping the portcullis—composed of olid iron. The dungeon down under the wail—the narrow passage ways, leading into darkness, the various Rreference of Cotton S eei « Cotton seed oil, a good houselEeapiitf tells us, is better, purer and cbeapoE than either lard or butter. Its price varies with the price of lard, but it i i always cheaper than lard, It makes fine rolls, biscuits, muffins, combread, gems, batter cakes, tea cakes, and gin ger bread. In some of these compounds it renders eggs necessary, and -in others, where they are indispensable^ lessens the number. As it boils at a lower degree of heat than the animal fats, it is pre-eminently fit for frying, and as the frying-pan, notwithstanding tbe anathema maranatha of thehy^en- ists, continues to be the American escutcheon, it behooves us to use it wisely—^not to bum our food in it. In a oertain kitchen, w ^ r e a belief in this oil is part of the culinary creed, £sb, oysters and coquettes are fried to per fection in it. Saratoga chips and wafers emerge from their oil plunge the very poetry of potatoes—the golden morsels are crunched \with thankful ness. Thus do its works praise it. Its humanity from burning is one of tho ' strongest arguments in its behalf. The orthodox Jews, have, for well know n sanitary reasons, never use lard. They will have only butter or olive oil. The Latin races have always been oil prodigals. They were the first converts to the cotton seed dis pensation. ‘ In Southern Louisiana this oil is largely used for cooking, and in New Orleans every grocer keeps it, selling it under its own name to every housekeeper who values economy and purity of food stuffi Food prejudices are hard to conquer, and the more pro-vinical a community, the stiffer- neoked they are in this respect. It is difficult to persuade them that other- foods than those used by their mothers and grandmothers are also palatable and wholesome. The best cotton seed oil is nearly colorless, tasteless, and odorless, but when just delivered from the press, varies much in tint, smell odor, and is filtered, clarified and deodorized by the manufacturers. THE MARBLE TUNNEL. Near the little village of Big Stone Gap, in Wise county, Va., where Penn sylvania and Boston capitalists have been planning for ten years to build the great iron city of the country, there is the Natural Tunnel through the beautiful Clinch Mountains, a nat ural engineering work startling in the boldness with which it suggests the irresistible power of | nature. The t this point dwindle almost to hills, the heights of the ridge being only about sis or seven hundred |feet. There is no “gap” for miles and the mountain is a solid mass of marble, almost as hard as granite. The ap proaches to the tunnel are through canyons whose perpendicular walls tow.er straight up as white as snow. to the point where there is a curve. Standing at the entrance and looking Prom the ground one can count many stratas of marble, each layer united to the other by something resembling a natural cement. Following the rook strewn bed of this canyon we came plump upon the tunnel with its great yawning black mouth and arched roof, as perfectly cut as if engineers had scooped it out by the intolerable labor of human hands. The entrance is IflO feet high, and 120 feet broad and the tunnel itself is 932 feet in length. From the mouth inward the roof gradually heightens for several teeT inward one sees a magnificent chamber of which the auditorium of almost any great public hall in this country would be insignificant. The roof is curved so sharply as to suggest a Gothic ceiling and wondering scrutiny reveals to the eye a vast auditorium like some music hall that would hold ten thous- j and people. It seems like a chamber I cut into the rock, the marble walls and | roof as smooth as if made with chisels. As we advanced into the depth, how ever, the rear of the chamber receded, the opening curving gracefully around a sharp corner on one side. As this corner was reached there were cries of delight from all the party ai a crescent of white sunlight that was seen far ahead ip the distance, revealed beyond another sharp corner and mirrored on a surface of smooth dark water col lected on the floor. It was the other end of the tunnel and we marched through the great cavern by the side position, give one the impression that storming that castle in the day of its strength would at least have been labor lost. The Gladstone estate— connected with the home, consists of of seven thousand acres, and brings a yearly income of $90,000. He baa also an estate in Scotland netting him $40,- 000 yearly, and receives annual pen sions of . $10,000. These, items are simply named as a fractional part of his income to satisfy his ardent friends that he is in no immediate danger of suffering for the necessaries of life. As to his family, he has four sons and three daughters; tbe youngest is thirty-nine years of age and unmarried. In closing this hastily written letter it is a pleasure for me to say that in con versating freely with several of his neighbors, wbo are his tenants, they with one accord pronounce Mr. Glad stone their true friend .—Isaac Claflin, in Chicago Inter Ocean. E very family man in the country pays ten times more tax upon the sugar he buys than upon the wool he and his family wear, and yet, as the Spring- field Union remarks, the Free Trader who occupies the \White House, is very anxious to wipe out the duties on \Wool and dosen’i say a word about the $50,- 000,000 duties on Sugar. toy. J.ne great x^aturai xuuucx shaped something like the letter S, having a double bend through th e . mountain, but, of course, is not so greatly curved. The marble roof is over four hundred feet thick. The hand of necessity will soon convert the tunnel into practical uses, for the South Atlantic and Ohio Kailroad, now under construction from Brist6l,Tenn., is to pass through it, taking advantage of the great engineering work that nature has coi more sublime a in this country. Something New in Steam Engines. From the Montreal Star. \We are promised something won derful in steam engines shortly. It is nothing less than an engine that will exhaust in its own boiler; at least, so its inventor claims, and the London Engineer and the Iron Age, after elaborately explaining the invention, appear to think that there is some foundation for his hopes. The inven tion is simply to use the steam and then put it back into the boiler again. Take a case in point: The City of Eome burns about 400 tons' of coal daily. This coal costs from $1,700 to $1,800. Run under the system at work by this last invention the same steamer could be run at a cost of $200 daily. This item alone is enough to prove the value of the invention.- It will cheapen the carrying trade, give more room for coal, do away with one fourth or fifth of the space required for boilers and reduce the cost of coaling stations for the navy. \When applied to engines on shore it will b« equally revolutionary in its effect^ and unless the* invention can be ap«^ plied to engines now in existence, we may in a short time see all the enginea in the world worth nothing more than what they will bring as old iron.
