i i only by the ranch owner.
cowboy “manual to turn up after his;
gull
his SENTINEL.
rilI'TH NOR“ ALK. FEHI’I‘AIIY 1‘»
recruit ‘scinvcn.
Professor IV. liattieu \Villlanis main«
tainrthat the tidal waves. rushes of the
lea. and other phenomena of the kind =
observable in connection with earth~
quakes, are not atlections of the sea. but
of the land. a
Professor Ilerlen has recently shown.
from Vivisectional experiments. the inti~ '
mate relation between cold and: tau =h.
and that uninjury to the cortex of the
brain that destroys the sense of touch in
any re.:ion will usually also abolish cor-
respondingly the sure of cold.
Professor Thurston says when a drop
of oil is placid upon the surface of water
it. first rapidly spreads in all directions.
forming a film of exceeding toninty. and
affecting the waves asi ashvet or carpvt.
of thin. llexil-Ie. Pithlli‘, and yi‘t tenacious
substance. like rubber. had been spread
over the waves.
The healing-springs of Ilosnia and
Herzegovina secme t d «titted to occupy
a prominent place among the health rvu
sorts of the worll Professor Ludw' _
of Vienna. in the c atrse of at; lulu-ml
iourney recently. ‘ dis firmed over fifty
medicinal sprin..s. The best are Iliusivitt
Ilangaiuka. Scraa-wo. and lloliiLa Tuzla.
It is said that the more rapid de~
tczioratioii of in iv h of the iron ot‘ a late
make arises from the fact that it ecu»
mini more impurities thin formerly.
'Ilie (‘OIII‘HIHI iron ot‘ tvday is tilied
{With slag.an-l took. coarse and fibrous
when rusti-it or worn I‘itty yeaisrago
the iron made in tin
largely charcoal iron. and was
made at th~- plt.‘\t‘lll day.
The method of vulturis
Carrion is Seen by~tlu~ir habits of di-irib
tiling themselves like seniim ls ove; wole
tracts of country. ’l‘tiv-ir ,lu-eu i'_\i'~. as
they circle over ini‘cs of territory- sc in ,
«very l'brt‘l‘I, tel-graphing to the tidguiih
int." sentinel. many miles away. the dis- ‘
. o cry of p:e_v_ In this \\ ay,'diii‘i:ti_:llia
(‘riincan war, it is slid that the vultures ‘
of Northern .\llitt| tlo~ked in stores
around the uiiitending
from thousands of miles.
Mr. J. McNeil. of Indiana l'nivcrsity. .
mentions a long-horned beetle \".lll'iI
lived no less thin niuvtcen years, and\
probibly more llllll twenty. in an ash
do ir sill. TWA similar eases of remark-
able longevity XII beetles are r» corded by
l‘ackard.
piiie~birer lived more than fifteen years
' in a pine bureau; an l ttirecb a-tl. s came
trom an apple time table. the Ernst after a
residence theiein o: twenty years and the
a~t of tvveiityt-iglit years.
The contagiousnes of leprosy‘ says
" 3 a”, has for u long timi- been a mowed
.zluestion. The l‘uyal college of l’hysi-
clans. in ordur to obt ill) the best iu‘furma- ‘
lion on this subject, sent inquiries to
pliy~icians throagliont the world. who<e
practice had brought tluii in contact
with the \
would therefore be of \alue,
of these have no doubt of its c’ontagims-
iiess. and thirty-four entertain no doubt
of its non~contitgiousness.
gardcd leprosy and syphiltis as being in»
tiinately related; twenty-mini believed
there was no relation. r.\lost (if those. to
wheatthe inipiiiies were sent regard h-p.
buy as hereditary, and also that it may
originate spontaneously under suitable
can litions.
The Life of Cowboys.
'Tiine was, and not long ago either,
that. the cowboys wlienrthey received'
their pay after the ronndoip, lclt in duty
bound to go Mile~ (Elly and blow it. in at
tnegainbling dens. Saloons, and other
dnreputable places, 'i‘ow-punchingis at
best a very tough business. and full of:
risks to life and limb. and pay is
small and by no means adequate, and
after the round-tip there follows a long
period of etiforCcd idleness, during
which they are given food and lodging
The average
semi‘annual ‘sprec with a very large head
and not a curt in his pockv t. Uf 'atc.
however. the boys have taken a tumble to
themselves and are saving their money.
rotommou has the economical spirit be-
come among them that Miles v ity has
seen this yearits quietest season.
Most of the cowboys looked upon.
their coming to Montana to herd cattle ;
as the mistake of their lives. The glow-
iug stories or thrilling adventure and ‘
sudden wealth. .of the cowboys‘ life,
which are common in the l ast. are in'
mosgeases responsible for their entering
the guild. but the reality is
a dilIei'ent in ittcr. Many of the eco«
liomical ones have been enabled by their
8 Wings to mum to their
homes.
People who have not been through the
bad lands have but a faint. conception of
the utter desolation and w'orthlesmess of =
a cowboys‘ home. He is roasted in sum-
met and frozen in winter. The lauds can
ncie' be used for anything but graring,
and the distances are therefore some-
thing immense.
country makes rapid riding a very dI!II-'
cult, not. to say dangerous, undertaking.
The earth is so lriable that a tiny water-
course Will speedily cut for itself a deep
or " coolie,“ as it is cathd. the
dept of which. when filled with snow,
is entirely problematicsl. A horseman
who rides up with a eowboys‘ reckless.
nus may suddenly find himself at the
bottom’of asix‘ or eighthoot coolie, with
his horse. on top of him, and no way of
.gettin out of it—if he happens to be
still alive—save tunneling up to the head
of the stream through the snow. Then
one of your bronchus feet is as likely as
not to sink suddenly two feet down into
a coyote‘s hole when he is going at a fu-
rious pace. Result: llis leg snaps off
like a pipe stem, and you are shot through
the air to a point far beyond. and picked
up more dead than alive. The water is
generally bitter with alkali. and scorches
3.9!)" throat as you SWallow it There is
Irttle to eat. and ‘that is hard to gets—-
2mm). Enterprise. .
*WM,
Not so Harmless as Supposed.
At Ironton, Ohio. a young reporter
for one of the city pfipcrs attended an
oyster supper g vun byxthu ladies of a
church soi‘iety. The youiti was waited
u in with all the prompt fidelity due to
his evaltid, station. The young man
showed his iipprcciatiou of this kindness ;
by publishing next day a half-column
aitlcle on “The (bomb Festival Oyster,"
containing all the timelionored witti-
vision that have been handed down to
this generation on that suziject. a coin-
‘inittec of twelve young ladies waited on
him at his lodgings shortly after-the ap-
‘ am of the ”I: on the street, took
int iamalmoku- use. tied him to a
k'ioad the article «thin and then
closed him (what! to foot. with a
buckotfalof oyster soup that had been
” . by bovlsh days ere
,,‘:’W§3§3§7 7' if“? ”3'73. ‘,;89332nlr.2-9 on were “-2. '32-!“
I V ‘TH: FLBWE;6I=: FAME.
.
l
i
l
.
l
l‘uitml states Was.
much 1:
purer and better thin the same grades
in tin lingv
ainies, coining f
A specimen of the Culllllldll‘
disease. and uh sc opinions~
Thirteen ,
Twelve re -’
illIlIe .
Eastern _
One pccularity of the s
‘ ever made him forget it.
At morn a bud.
Whose leaves, still dampened by the morning
. il%\'.
Give promise of a beauty unsurpawed.
- And lay upon the altar of our view
The xmssiiulities the future may possess.
- At noon a full blown rose.
‘ Wbme fragrance. which it scatters on the air,
Is equaled only by its loveliness.
i The motel which the artist paints with care.
. Andtho never-dying substance of the poet‘s
‘ long. y
; ' At night a faded flower, * .
i Whose Withered leaves are trampled into
‘ dust
l I'uheedod by the busy pais‘er—by;
i Whase perfume, which was borne by every
glut. _
Is lost amid the tempest of the night.
And so with fame.
At morn ‘iis brightened by hope‘s' fairest
dreams.
To blomn into reality at noon;
At eve the sun‘s refulgent beams
Find but the ashes of ambit-inns flame.
Ed. ('0 Ale-grin the Comet.
. .._ .- -w..-” ..-
“S'IIIP THE SHIP."
It was a dark. moonlvss night, in the
. maidlu oi l‘eceiuber. and the rising
over me and utterly banished all dream-
ing- I cannot tell you what caused it.
but a powerful feeling of terror oven ante
me, and I trembled likca palsiui old
man. A rent sense of a dread of some-
thing terrible about to happen sei ed me
-—something, I knew not what: and I
strove against itin vain. I clung to the
bridgerail in front, and tiied to pull
myself together. and I grew calmer as
the low voices of some. of the men for
ward fell upon my ear.
“ ‘Thomp oni “ I called; and the
burly boatsvvain‘s mate came toward
me with the easy roll of a scaman, and
tout-hing his cap. said— 7
“ ‘Did yo want me. Mr. Brown? ‘ "
“ ‘ Everything right. --— the watch
awakct‘ “ I asked.
‘,“Yes, sir: but it‘s pitch dark. and
we can‘t see live yards ahead. Jim Dix-
on‘s for‘ard‘” .
“ "l‘akea look round yourself,‘ I to
plied. '
“While the mate was gone, the terri-
that feeling seemed to leave me. and in
its place an inde‘inable and ha y but
powerful impression gained upon me that
I must do something; but what I could
not make out. I on have no idea
of the awful agonv I was in. and how I
strove to find out what it was that I now
felt impelled to do. My brain seemed on
would burst, and a strange bunting
soundc l in my cars. I felt. as in was go~
; wind was \vhbtlitig in‘ the rigging and
E piping amongthe taut shrouds of the.
:steamship Sardiniau. as sh~ plunged;
through the Atlantic surge~, honwwaid ‘
, for Liverpool. ' . .
l The sloping decks wcrc silent and de- l
serted. save for the iigit:e of the otliccr‘
on watch. pacing suddenly up and down
before the wln-elhaase. and a little group
of sale in pass tigers ciusii-red uiiderthc
lee of the star‘o aird lift-b im on the «,uan
ter‘deck. There was some half dozen of
us inadl. Two fair i‘anndians on their ;
way to spend the holidays in the “old:
country.": a‘conple of young “subs,
coming home vii‘lcave from their l‘cg‘i- -
ment in Halifax. and one other careless
pleasure seeker. like niy~clf, retarifing .
troni a visit to the Far \\ est. We had
been “hiling ' away the evening by
singingglees and Ill-I g stories. ”until.
the i,ll;illt‘l‘lllll§lt‘l‘ striking live lells ~
. to :11) o’clock warned us that lights
. woul i soon have to be put out.
Not feeling inclined to turn in, I bade
‘my merry companions goodqiight,
“nicliul them laughingfy down the (‘Olll-
panion Way. and then turned aft to hav e
a chat with the second iiillt‘L‘l‘ who was
keeping the deck watch. ‘
"You seem to lune had a pleasant tint-.-
under the boat there.“ he sad. after a
few remarks upon the link of the
weather and the speed we were run»
. ning at. ‘
“its. and we ended up with a ghost
story. which Mr. l nizuii told about his
old grandmother sieiiig the figure uIIIi'I‘
husband standing be. honing her ear
nestly away from a term 0 walk \Vlllt'h
ran tin ler a brii k :rtiit wall in the hall
wounds. Nic loiiowed Ililll.:lll.d \(‘a'CL‘~
y had she got out of danger before it
felt with a crash filil' where she had been
walking but half a moment before His
friend, Wyvill. made fun of it all. and
i then u e go: iizto a hot discussion upon
warnings and second sight and the rest
of it.“
“And do you believe in such things?“
".\ot a bit.“ I answvred. promptly.”
“Such things. as you calliliehniievcrap~
. car to ciml-iiei'ved people in everyday
g ife. but only to timai. scared, and net‘—
vous persons.“
‘.‘I don‘t know that. I am not partic-
ularly nerviais. I fancy: and yet a queer
thing happened to me aboard IIIIS'bIllp
not very long ago.“ and he turned to
' glance at the swaigiiig compass at the
matron crosslri‘cs. "If you care to hear
about it, 1‘“ spin you the yarnwunless
you wa at to turn in."
: So he. began his story. whilst the
creaking of the spectrwlookiug spars
aloft souu led like the moan of troubled
spizits, and the swishing of the water
I'lu‘lt‘l‘ the counter kept up a mournful
rhythm iishe spoke as follows:
“We left the Mersey the first week in
May, bound for New York. with a full
ship—saloon and steeragubuth erowdvd
——ii:id made it quick run. for she is 'a
fast boat. and the captain never gives
her a Chance of getting far off a straight
course.
“We were five days out. and that
evening some of the gentlemen had got
» up a concert. whi h was a great suceess,
: and everybody seemed in high Spirits at
, the prospect of the quickest. passage on
record. Uf course this \ ' before the
Arirona, Alaska, and Etruria had astou—
; ished the world by the wondrous smart
runs whi h they have male. 1 rc.iev'cd
Mr. Jones at four bells and took the
:brl.dgc. remarking to him. as he turned
to go down the ladder, that it felt un-
commonly cold for the time of year.
‘It‘s leaving a warm cabin makes you
feel it,‘ he said. wishing me a pleasant
watch, and the next moment I was up
i there alone. '
t “It was a pitch—dark night, and a
thick veilof blackness Seemed to wrap
l the ship from stem to stem. There was
i no wind and the Sea was quiet. the still~
lucss only broken by the dull, regular
{throbbing of the great engines as they
l Iteadily drove her along. I glanced
iahend and could barely distinguish the
l
watch forward and then I turned aft
‘and saw the dim form of the oilicer in
char-goof the deck, leaning against the
§ port door of the wheel house.
i“All was right. and I began to pace '
.llowly a toss the bridge from side to
hide, watching the white gleam of the .
lphosph iresccnt water as it raced past
l. and trailed away into the dark expanse :
behind us. I remember thinking what
a nutshell this powerful ship was there ;
, in the midst of the boundless ocean, and
; how but a thin plate of iron was between
5 the hundreds of souls now sleeping help— ‘
:Iess below decks and the graves thou- .
i sands of fathoms down among all th: ‘
l hideous creatuzcs that live'in the sunlesa
’ depths. I was roused out of my musin
iby'the voice of the captain. who ha
{come up to see if all was right. as'he,
lgenerally did several times during the;
, night. for he was always alive to the
, tacithat he had a valuable ship and pre— -
‘ ciuus lives under his care. and nothing a
I have heard .
him say to some gentlemen who pressed '
him to join them in a bottle of vham-;
agne to celebrate the speedy arrival of i
is vessel off the Irish coast:
“ ‘I am much obliged. to you for the
f kindness which prompts the request. but i
' we are nearing land. and this night, of:
all others, I must keep a cool head and l
a clear eye for your sake and my ovvn.‘ ;
“Well, as I was saying. .the captaini
same alnn; side and said: T
“How‘s her head. Mr. Brown?" ' 3
“ ‘W. S. IV, aquarter \V.. sir,‘ I an- i
, iwered. with a glimpse at the binuacle. l
“ ‘: ight it iii—keep it so ;’ he bade me ;
‘ goodlnieht. and I watched'him go along
. the deck forward to speak to the watch
' on the. fok‘sel. '
l “Then I began my walk again, and
‘ my thou hts slipped away home, and I
wonder how my wife and youngsters
were. I lived over again in fancy the
day! [had Spent ashore during my last '
leave, and than. somepow, memories of
a.
ing mad. and the thought of the great
ship in charge of a madu an on the
bridge tliislivd across me. A wild fool-
ing. that it would be better to throw my-
! self overboard crept into my soul. and I
believe ._I did make a step over to the
side, when a ray of light broke in upon
me. The turmoil in my brain grew Still,
and a voice distinctly said in my car ,-
‘3 ‘Stop the .inT 13‘ ,
“I looked roun sharply left andright,
but. there was not a creature on the bridge.
except myself.
down onto the deck. but it was deserted.
‘ilcnt, and dark. Ieven glanced aloft.
but of course saw nothing there except
gaunt yards and the slender braces and
lifts.
"‘.\ll right fore and aft. sir.“ came
Thompson‘s \‘UICC. and his dusky form
loomed out of the shadow
“ ‘\\'h:it order did the l’aptain give
just before you came upt‘ l askul. , Nut
that I for a moment thought that it was
his \oiv c which I had hand. but I
wanted to see if the boatswaiii's mate
had noticed anything. ‘
“ ‘Urdi-r, sir I
turned in.‘
'~ ‘llut did not you licar some one say
Why the cap‘en b
“Stop t: c ship." Just as you got to the'
ladder Io -t 5‘
‘ 'No, sir.
on
that I‘ll take my davy
“ "\'ery well. you may go. but mind i
you kx ep a >iiarp lookout ‘
“ ‘.\y. ay. sirl“ aid the man moved 5
away. _
‘I felt inclined to laugh at myself for
an old woman, w IIl’II a eh lly feeling
err-pt once more up at me. and something I
within me this time earnestly said.
“ ‘n‘tup theshipi“
“l Shook the feeling off. however, and '
determined to give way no longer to
morbid tnncies I lighted a pipe. and bc~
gait to pat-e briskly to and fro, from port
to starboard and starboard to port. But,
though all traces of’ fearund terror van-
ished. yet ever tho-c words came ring-
ing it my ear. and the faster I walked
the more piainly I heard—
“ ‘Stopthe ship! - Mop the shipl‘
“Again I hailed the watch: ‘.\ll
right forward! ('an you see anything
ahead." and I peered out into the dark-
ness round.
“ ‘.\ 11 Chi“ for‘ard. but we can‘t see
more than ten yards,‘ sang out Thomp-
son. snlienly.
”So once more I began ray measured
'tranip, but louder and louder came the
Command in tones of frant.c cntrcaty——
“Stop the nhipl Stop the shipi’
“It was no use striving longer; I felt.
sortie potent in Tusiice force me to them)—
gitic~r00iii telegraph. I seized the ban-
dle, ’ and for a moment pails d as I
thought. of the confusion and alarm
which I was about to cause. and how an~
gry IlICVSlC ping captain would be at my .
daring to do such a thing Without his
orders. The next instant I rang: ‘liasy
ahea-l.‘ I felt ti 1: engine‘s throb more
slowly. Yet again I heard. almost mad»
lv — t
“ ‘Stop the ship?
.\nd without a moment‘s further hesi-
tation I rang "Stop,“ and soon the throb-
bing ceased entirely. I heard exelama~
tions of surprise from the fok‘sel. There
was a rare (animation on the deck as the
captain rushed up the ladder in anxious
huste. but before he could reach my side,
the resistlms power had oxcrcome me
again, and I rang down “Full Speed
astc n.”
“ ‘In heaven‘s name, what‘s the mat~
ter, Brown; I heard the astonished cap~
tziin say as the mighty screw began to
race astern, and forcibly pull up, as it
were. the great ship, which still forged
gently ah ad.
“Before I could answer, or even glance
around, a loud shout from the lookout
on the bows: ‘.\n iceberg right on uSI’
was followed by a‘ slight shock and a
quiver and rattle as we ran stem on to
the tovvering monster. »\\'hat our fate
would have been had we been steaming
at full speed. you may guess: instead of
carrying you home tonight. the old Sar-
dinian would be lying ‘ fathoms deep.
and her loss would have added one more
to the mysteries of the sea.‘ "
There was a dead silence as the speaker
ended. and we pulled our pipes thought
fully for a few moments, until he
added— , . _
“That is a queer yarn. I know, and if
you can explain it, so much the better.
I have often tried to do so to myself.
but cannot. I believe some unseen spirit
was sent to save those helpless souls that
night, in spite of all the clever reasons
which scientific men find for the exist-
ence of such things. and I know that.
i but. for that powerful impulse which I
; could not. resist, we shou‘d have rushed
j upon our doom. My yarn is a true one."
Then glancing;r up aloft, he said—
“The wind is hauling round. and we
must. have some of that canvas 03 her
at once.’ '
With a cheery good-night. he left me.
anl I went below and turned into my
birth, the aim“ not-cs of the bo‘sun‘s
whistle. mixed it with the creaking of
blocks and the “ aul Loy" of the watch
in my cars. as I thought over the curious
story which was told me by the second
oflicer.
Homeopathy.
Homeopathy. as a system ofrmedicine,
was introduced by Dr. Ila‘incmann, a
native of Germany, toward the clase of
the last century. 'I he name is derived
from two Greek words signifying “sim-
ilar suflering.“ Hahnemaua‘s convic-
tion was that. medicines can lure dis-
eased conditions similar to those which
they have the power to excite. In
short, that diseases are cured by medi— >
cities which produce symptoms in
healthy persons similar to those pre-
wutcd by the that. In order to elab-
orate his idea owuobliged to practice
uponhlmulf and friends. The result
0 his labors in misdirection are b-
linked in tea volumes.—
“7 .: . H-434”. a=arij A..~
tire. my temples tlirobbed as though they ‘
llCd'NBd over and looked '
d howoalcl have» much
AIIOLD CROP.
CUTTING AND srowrxc
FOR SUMMER, tsn
ICE
blur-king the Ice—Cutting with
Flows—Separating the Blocks
with a (‘liiael~lteiii0\'al
to the firehouse.
Those who love to mitigate the breath—
less days when the dog star is in the as
cendant by sipping cobblers and
punches, or even by eating .iccs and
drinking innocuous iced tea. may restnt
ease in the Consciousness that Itctrmt‘s
ice crop is practically made; that it
is of unusually good quality and that
its total amount teaches about 1233th
tons. This is exclusive of the cut of
packing ice made for brewers‘ and
butchers“ use and is intended for domes:
tie. hotel and bar use.
There is quite a bit of coldness in
135.0«Iu tons of ice. and the cutting.
storing and delivery of it is a Work giv—
iiig employment to a large number of
men and reptiring ii heavy outlay of
money. . » .
Supposing the ice to be one foot in
thickness. it will yield not far from
t 1.000 tons to the acre, and it will thus be
~ seen that the urea cut each season for
the Cooling of Detroit‘s whisilcs is as
large as a good sized farm.
In the ice biisiiie~s prom itncss in seiz-
ing the opportunities of t. c weather is
all~important. The iii-uncut the ice has
reached a su’liricnt thickness the dealers
b. gin work and never take a holidayain-
til theirhouscs are full or the thaw
comes to put a stop to proceedings. The
work is severe. in the matter of ex-
posure. a d is correspondingly well paid.
Occasionally a man or a horse takes an
involuntary bath. too. but the. number
. of accidents is n -t great and the conse-
qui-ncrs are rarely :crio'is.
The first step in the ice harvest is to
clear the silt face oi snow. This is done
with horse seiapers and. if the snow is
llgllt and dry, is an easy matter. If. on
the other hand. it is o: the dense and
damp order. it free cs to the surface of
the ice forming a spongy layer on top.
which very much diminishes the value
of the crop. The Scrapers now usel ren—
der possible a very perfe t, clearin,r off
the surface even when the snow is of the
heaviest. 7
Alter the snow has b en scrap al away
i into great \i‘indrows, a straight line Isi
L caicfutiy daawn across the field and.
i with this as a base. flIIill‘M‘~IIIl\IkC!‘. con-.3
; sisting of two blades fortysfour incl es ,
3 apart. is sit to work. One Made is run 2
l on the line described. and the other
makes :i scrub-h. an inch or so deep. tor«
; ty four inches di~tant. This done. the
' gu dc is run in the svcond scratch and
,3 another line is made, and >0 on until a
isiitlieient III‘I‘IL has been marked. 'I‘ois'
’ done. the lualkt‘!‘ is run at right angles
with the iirst lines Illllll the field is di- -
: vided into blocks forty four inches square
i like a great chess board.
Following the marker Comes a series
‘ of l littin;_r plows. the l rst of which deep:
ens the scratch made by the marker to
. six inches, the smond to eight and the
; third to ten inches. Sometimes. when
3 the ice is of unusual thickness, a fourth
‘ plough is used, which cuts to a depth of .
i twelve inches. l
E This done. it is an easy matter to St‘]‘3~ 3
2 rate the blocks by deft use of a gr< at g
9 steel chisel. as large as a crowbar. which
l is inserted in thecraek and, by a twist.
l'pries the blocks tipail. The wozk of re- l
3 moving the ice begins at the shore, iin- l
: mediately in front. of the ii-c-hmisc. and i
l a narrow channel the width of two or -
three blot-ks. is cut from that point to the
heart of the field. .
i In taking the ice to the house it is-
l broken olI in long,' strips of forty to ai\ty
’ cakes. and these are floated slowly bat.
steadily along the channel named by the
aid of pike poles until thi y reach an in- -
cline. with It extends from the icehoiise,
5 its lower extremity being below the sur~
Int‘i‘ «if flit: water.
' On this incline are two clinics. in !
whit-h runs a heavy. endless steel chain.
i having ciglitrineh links and carrying at
short intervals ghps or carriages for the
E conveyance of iv e. The strips described :
5 are now separated and the individual :
blocks floated m or and iipJn this endless
chain. by which they ate wind and
borne up thcinrline. There is Ci)tillt‘v'-t
lion fiouithe incline with the various ’
galleries of the house, and men standing 1
upon platforms senc the blocks withl
spike poles when they I‘Clkll the desrred
point and direut them into the galleries.
the floorso which have a sudicient de—
scent so that the blocks will slide to any
rcqiiirvd point with only a little pcrsua- i
stun from the poles of a line. of men 3
stationed along the gallery to ‘ mow
away.“
“'ithin the house tlieblocks are piled
in tiers. one upoa the other with a space
of four inches between the piles. Each
bloek freezes to the ones above and be
low it, but its separation is an easy mat-
ter. If. however, the III'I‘S were in con-
. tact. laterally. th‘ contents of the house
- would free'e into a solid mass.
The loss by breakage. thawing. etc ,
"averages not far from tifty~tive per cent.
The necessity of constant repairs to ma-
chinery and tools. especially to the end-
less v built, is a proliific source of expense
and delay. The machinery its-used but
a few weeks in each year, after which it
is usual to take. the engines apart, remove
the chain and pitch all tools away with
great care. .
Nothing is used to protect the ice ex~
cept- a little tau bark at the doors, and it
is only necessary to see that the doors are
kept closed, except when absolute
necessity requires that they be opensd.
—Dctroit F rec Press.
Hotels in Mexico.
“The Mexican hotel proprietor does
not show the least anxiety as to whether
you stop with h m or not. I asked the
proprietor of the hotel I went to what. he
charged per day. He said 34, and that
without board. ‘ ,
“\Vhy don’t you run a restaurant in‘
conne.tion:” I inquired.
"Uh, it would be a bother,“ replied
the landlord.
“Why don‘t you give meals with
board. American style, and make the
rotits yourself?“
“It would be too much bother. " he re-
plied. shrugging his shoulders.
Actually. the proprietor is so afraid of
being bothered he don‘t care a straw
whether anyone stops with him or not.
I asked for a wash list to give out some
linen to be washed, and was informed
ihat they never furnished lists for wash‘
iug nor had anything to do with laundry-
ing’ clothes, because it; was a bother.
Some of‘the servants had kin people,
though. who might; wash for me, I was
informed. A tourist, I was told, came
._on ahead and said to the proprietor of a
hotel that he had eighty in his party.
who would arrive next day, and wanted
to know if any reduction would be made
from the ular charge of $4 per day on
account of .t a large number. The pro
prietor, with a languid nigh, informed
the astonished tour-lat that he ‘would
charge each of his part “.50 because
.-M|‘I
l
'swrlling muscles ofh’s lithe and active
frame as he lightly vaultvd into the box.
the onslaught, \\ as. the young Uxonian
< again upon his foe. \\ no step, ed aside,
‘rveiv liiiib, while great patches of per»
. spiiation stained his flanks an i sides. he
awith men and woacn
islcds. followed by an errand boy in a
'soap box nasled to a sled. with brown
‘ p ipec tliittei‘imr out from under him to
:5.» wk" 1 «up. are. 71* ,7 '.‘-.“""‘"‘W“5*.““‘ are?!" .‘4
lawhichitia ajoyto I00,“
mass». _
‘-
Novel Mode of Sunni-g a Horse.
A very vicious and ill-tempered horse
was eating his head OR in a very luxu-
riant loose box. because there was no
one in the establishment of the gentle
man to whom he belonged who had the
courage or strength to enter his stable
to saddle and bridle him. If a groom
approached for any other pur rose than
to give him his corn and buy. it: would
speedily drive him away by the fre ‘ use
of his hoofs and teeth. Une day at
lunch the owner was lamenting the use-
lessncss of the finest horse in his stud to
aparty of friends, and wound up by
saying that. he woald gladly make. a
present of the horse to any one who
could saddle and ride him out of the
yard. .
A young graduate of Oxford. Ilon.
Sidney Lawford. expressed his willing
ness to make the a=tempt. and though
warned by many a blotid‘cul‘dilllg re.-
cital of what had been the fate of the
grooms and the stable boys that had
made the like effort, be persisted in his
determination to, try. .\ttcr lunch nil
adjourned to the stable in expectation
of seeing the young ftllow receive a
sevcio lesson for his tcnierity. He was
known to be an expert in every manly
exercise. especially boxing, and was in
perfect wind and training. Selecting a
saddle and bridle from an adja vent :a-k,
he approached the strong bars that
opened into the brutc‘s stall. Speaking
kindly and soothiiigly to him. The horse
turned and eyed the stranger. and.
catching sight of the hated bit became =
furious, lashing out madly with his heels
and stamping wildly about the stall,
making the straw of his bedding fly in
every direction.
Without a word the graduate rested
the saddle tuld‘btlil'e on the top rail;
but the steady.'undanntcd tire of the
eve. the firmly compressed lip, the, back-
ward poise of the shag ly head. the
told plainly of the iron. indomitable will
and pluck within. Scareely had he
landed on' his let than the now
thoroughly infuriated b.ast came rush-
ing headlong athiiii. with its satin cars
tlattencd ilosc y against its lean lll'ail,
its I‘VLS atla cc and blo-dshot. its mouth
agaiic and displaying a set of git :l'ltlll_"
'teeth, which he guaslicd and ground:
\\ ith fury. Sudden and savage thou-4h l
was pri-pa.’ ‘d.
Throwing hims-lf naturally and grace»
fiiliv into boxing attitude. he tin-t the
Illnililcllt‘il annual with a blow on the
temple. ust btl\\'\eu the ear and eye.
switt. »tr:i'ght and inexorable as from a
Nasinvth's hammer. that brought him on ;
his ktiecs. l caring up and squealing
with pain and range. the brute rushed
but pale and determined. awaiting h:s:
coming. Again a imel b.-lt. stza'giit
from the shoulder, flew the L‘liiivhcd list. -
and down d.o;lped the h irse. Slow y be
staggered to his Ivcl, and trembling an
eowered in a corner of the stall, coin-
: pictely vanquished. The vii-tor soon had -
' the bit in his lllwulll. and leaving him
out of the stall. cant, red gaviy on the
pl’lH} his bravery and knowledge had
won. -—U!h’i.‘i}.
Crazy Coasting.
The other day Howard street hiil Al-
banv. X. Y i was lined on either side 1
- roaring with;
laughter. Shangers who added to the
throng and looked on sometimes jo;ncd
in the merrznic ll. but at other times held
their breath at what they saw. The boys
had poured water down the>midd1c of
the street and it had frosen into a narr .
row roadway of siivcry ice. Along this ,7
s.ippcry, slanting path there shot a .ight~
nmglikc proCi-ssion of coasting iiiu«
clinics of sorts the most rt maikable th at
were ever seen together. I‘ irst there,
would. come hall a do. eti fragile painted l
show that he was supposed t i be deiiw
ering a parcel soni where. Next came
eight little urchins on a piece of rough
plank. flying as if there were falling from
the clouds. Swiltiy \iirsuing the plank
came a boy on the ll of a tiiiuk. a girl
on a spiare block of ice, a boy on a
side of such a box as Oranges come in.
with another boy astride of his back. all
darting down at sixty miles a Ii -nr.
Close Lip-in these Came a young lady :
and a boy on a toboggau. more
minted sleds. another errand boy
in a soap box. and. strangest sled of ail.
a door mat that hid been Wet and fro-
en stiff. bearing a rugged girl, rcvolvg
ing an) ;nd and around after the manner 1
of a pinwhecl, and yet darting down
hill l.ke a flash. ltut there were many
other strange sights to tome. One was
that of a boy flitting by with nothing
benedh him. while close to his back
came the s-piare block of wood that had
slipped from under hiin._ _.-\uothcr boy
slid al rig inside a decrepit old basket,
and one went by like a swallow, on a
little piece of wood under which he had
screwed a pair of skates to serve ms sled
runners. It was not so much coasting
as a coasting burlesque. so utterly ridic~
ulous were most of the methods cms
ployed to get down the hill. The truth
Was that as cach boy happened along
and caught sight. of the glittering path
of ice he threw himself upon it if he
had a sled. or. if he had none. he got the
first thing that crime to hand to sit upon.
Night after night this crazy coasting
goes on. and thus far there is no news of
any one having been seriously hurt.—
New York Sun. ' ,
Hamil: Pigeons.
The public. writes a New York corre~
spondent of the Troy Times, is but. little
aware of the wide and increasing atten-
tion' devoted to homing pigeons, and
hence a brief paragraph on the subject
may be acceptable. There are reveral
societies or “fiderations“ «as they are
called) thus engaged. and the Executive
Committee of the New York pigeon fly-
ers recently held an important meeting.
One of the objects is to form a congress
of pigeon flyers. and a constitution and
by~laws are to be prepared for the next
annual meeting. In Philadelphia thcre
is an extensive association called the
“United. Fanciers of Pigeon Flying.“
Another assodation has becn formed in
Boston, and others are now expected in
various parts of the (ouiitry- The use
of carrier pigeons is of gr. at antiquity,
being mentioned by Anacreon. wholived
9,500 years ago. and Tasso also brings
them into the defense of Jerusalem. The
ordinary time made by those birds is
thirty miles an hour. but; instances are on
record of thrice that rate. The culture
of homing pigeons is now (as some say)
only beginning, and far greater attains
meats are expected by American fan-
ciers. '
Sir Andrew Clarke, the celebrated
English physician. declares that one~half
the papa ation of London is permanently
ill. He defines health as “ thatrstato in .
which the body in not consciously E's-oat
my
to us: the state in which work
and duty not over great a trial; the state
think,”
fight-ambianc-
PRAIRIE HENS.
EVNTIXG THE CAUTIOL’S BIRDS
IN KAXSAS.
Discover-lug Their- Mid-Day flaunts
—A Fine Day‘s Sport \\'it ll
Gun and Dog~flabits
of the Birds.
Frank Wilkeson ,writes as follows in
the New York Sun: Large numbers of
prairie chickens are still in Kansas. but
thev, as a rule, no longer frequent wheat
stubble to feed. They have learned tflal
wheat atu‘t-ble is dangerous feeding
ground for young and presumably ten-
der prairie chi.-kens. -
I was a firm believer in thctbcory that
the proper time to shoot chzckeus was
in the morning and evening. and that
the place was a stubble field. Ui‘ca-
sionally I hunted on the prairie andldur-
ing the hca‘. of the day. but genera Iy I
had poor luck, and the evnlent distiess
of my dog worried me a i sharply yliat I
did not enjoy the sport. I knew that
the birds \vcrc on the prairie. but I. nor
no other man. knew where they were.
About three miles in the southeast from
my ranch a high. rocky hill rose above a
piece of arid upland. l-‘ivc ravines headed
on the flanks oi this bill. Starting as slight
furrows to carry off the heavy r: mall.
which runs off of sloping prairie as
5 water fro'nu shinglcd root. they were
gullics three or four let-t deep and c'ght
or ten feet wide before th y left the hill.
Then the flowing water cut deeply and
widelv into the less resist'ful soil of the
uplands and made miniature canyons.
which were from eight to fiflc: n feet
deep and from twenty to forty fer-t wide.
and tinally discharging their watt-rs into
the never-failing vii cks :lirou :h a deep
ravine. These ravines were d y. ex.
celting for a slant ptriml itiiincdiati-ly
after a rain had fallen. The bottoms at
these gullies “'L‘I'L‘ Covert-d with a rant.
growth of high, coirse grass. which re-
mained green long alter the compara
tivcly short upland grass had been Hired
by the blazing Kansas sun.
while riding after cattle. I entered the
ravines which headed on the high bill.
It was in August and about noon. ('0
vey after covey of prairie t hickcns f'uS"
out of the th ck are n grass. All
around me I heard the brisk whiri of
their wiugs as they ,0... ani tlew to sit
tie in the scanty. sunrdr ed herbage on
the uplands. I had found the noonday
, home of the grouse.
That night. as I sat on my front porrh
smoking a pipe, my rctter dog. Key.
came to me and thrust lwr shut manic
into my half closed hand. I stroked her
head and said: “ .‘a-y. my girl. I have
. found the place where the prairie chit 1;
cos stay daring the lit at of the. day. You
andI will have a hunt. to-nmrrow. and
such a hunt. old girl.“ The do: u ~r~
stood the meaning of the word “kiln ‘ as
1 well as I did. and she eagerly at: n. r
y voust thumped her approval of the pro-
- jeeted hunt on the :oor with her tail.
Then she. ever keen to enjoy the pious-
urcs of the chase. votilerc..siy suggeued
that we go at once.
About noon the next day I til‘vd a
water keg placed it and Soy in a w agon.
got a boy to drive for me. and we Went
to the bill. I told the boy to keep about
fifty yards behind me and to drive along
the edge of the ravine. Key and I
wa‘kcd into the high grass. The heat
was intense. The hot air .piiveied and
waved. The dog, obedient to my order.
and continaally cautioned to “take it
casv,“ “go slow." “steady. steady,
steady. old girl.“ worked slowly to and
fro across the narrow ray Illi‘ and through
the high grass. Spcrdily she found
birds, and stood trembling. \\ Ilh her
neck bent and her nose quiveiazg and
her eyes blazing. I walked in ahead it
her, and the birds got up lazily and at
intervals. I was hatilpt‘rt‘d w uh a in
zlc~loudiiig gun. and necrxsmtly lns‘.
many shots. and I missed one-third of
the birds I shot at. I was not .. good
shot, and the continual wuirr. \vliLtr.
\vhirr of grouse's wings rattled me. .Is
I shot a covey out the dog brought the
dead birds tome. When they were a:
gathered I piled tlicin on the edge of
the bank tor the boy to pi k up. When
1 reached the bailout laud, ab..ut three-
quarters of a mile (mix the po at at
“‘Illvh I startid I beckoned the boy lle
drove up.
I gave Key a drink, and \Vct her dour:
thoroughly with water limit the keg
Then we sat in the sha low cast by the
wagon to \(‘l‘l oil. We looked at one
another. The inlc‘ligent dog aimo~i
said: “\Vcll. that. was a hunt ,“ and the
rolled over on her back and clawed the
air in excess of glee. The boy andl
counted the birds as we dropped them
one by one into a large sack. There
were thirtystx. l‘or mcry two I had
shot I had missed one. and I Lad
thisth at. least six for every one I sho:
at. If I had had a breech loading gun
and plenty of cartridges. and
could_ have shot as accurately
its I did later in life. I Could have killed
150 birds during that. short walk. I had
left home with the intention of sliooliug
all five ravines. but of course I ahan~
doncd that intention and shut no more
that day. But 0 it of the five ravine.
wrbich headed on that high, rocky hill,
[drew my supply of meat to feed the
men who thrashed my crop. For several
years I drew the larger portion of my
gummcr‘s supply of fresh meat out of
those ravines. Hunters could come and
hunters could go to and from my ho so:
and I hunted With them. but never on
this bill. Suddenly, with no previous
diminution in the number of the birds.
the grouse quit seeking shelter in the
tall coarse graham! that instinct has be-
comcrhcreditary in Kansas grouse. For
cars I have not found a prairie chicken
in the tall grass which stands on the bots
toms of the ravines.
Last fall when I was in Kansas, I was
hunting in the ngs which surrounds my
corn fields. 'I‘hr: weather was perfut.
The birds were» abundant. Many bun-
dreds uttered the tit-Ids every morning to
feed. But I did not find a prairie chi. k~
en where I had formerly killed hundreds.
Evidently the habits of the birds had
changed. It has become, with the five
years last past. an hereditary instinct for
prairie chickens not to lie in the rass
close to the edges of corn fields. ouch
birds as are too buy, or are disinclined
to return to the upland and there bask in
the sun, remain in the corn fields. where
they are comparatively safe. as they can
see the hunter long before he sees them.
and take wing before the former is with-
in gunshot. It is almost impossible to
handle a heavy shotgun quickly and ef-
fectively in a b' 31188-8 corn field, where
the stalks are fourteen feet: high and
stand closely together.
‘ \Vhen Kansas was first settled, the
prairie chickens, in the fall, frequented
the new] sownwheat fields to eat the
uncove wheat, of which they are ex-
ccediugly fond, much referring that.
grain to corn. Daring t s afternoon of
a late September day I have seen hun—
tired: of prairie chickens fly over my
house and settle on my wheat fields.
They would nutter widely. and remain
then until it was almost dark. Repeated
trials convinced us of tho I .0! heat-
«to
(Int? day. .
shoe fromhorseback or from a n.
and tfrom four to eight birds cool he
shot any pleasant September or early
October evening on a arse wheat. field
Sow, prairie chickens seldom. if ever.
settle on a newly sown wheat field to
feed. Their acquired iii‘stinct tells them
v i theo figment.“ ‘
mI‘n ogcptcmbifr the prairie chickens
pack—that 'iS. many covcys congregate
and form immense flocks- The chickens
feed on corn. When they leave the fields
thev flv to the uplands. The middle of
the' fall and winter days they can_be
found. by those who know their habits.
- ——.— —
Southern Xiiuutainecrs.
Among these mnun‘aiueera the purity
of old English noin in laturc and traces
of [English dialect barbaiisms are singuo
larly well prcservvd. ' lh-casionally there
is a strong \Vclsh infusion in a “neigl'r
borhood.“ “in. It has been existent
longer than current inf-mory. In_ the
\Vcst Virginia mountains there is a
singular race of dwarrish people whose
origin nubodv Can suggest. _ they have
been held in contempt by their hflgthf!
ever since they appear-21. and are even
yet regarded as men sils little better 111“
slaves. They int. noun“; a : ong and per
petuatc themselves. ii w and then get-
ting fresh, but not better. bl 0d from
those outside whose «midition rendefl
harmless the contempt that they will in.
vile by marriage with the dwarfs. In
the Nirth i‘arolina range there is a
strong Turkish icinéniscacc directly
trav-eahle to frgtivv, pu-n'y. t onstine is
there a couzino-sly I! cairn: surname.
being a coup; tion of the Turkish (Soon
stantme. a name la,- u.- my the Int-relies.
John of that ilk. who. for some years
before the war. wa~ an onilach high
wavnian and man! rev! inn-sting the
5“":Illllt lands of i :ir . n.1, ‘i~'\'}'IIlg terror
and tribute upon Ill: rzilll' surrounding
country. 50 gun! was :3..- dead of his
name and the trolizio ni infernal attri-
butes that tut se. me i i . prv-tcct but on
nianv oceasions. that e (II a3tcr he had
bevn- pursued into a s“ ampaiid killed by
avcnging p‘atzters. the ncgroc s liimly be-
IIt‘VtLI in his ab _. to triumph over
death. and for yea s were confident that
he would again a pv 2r in the majesty of
his gigantic perso-i and Wield lie cele-
bratcd ore-tinge oil it Hill with more than
his old destroying sit ll.
Hf the Hritlslt rcltig-‘i‘s who took to
tl.c mountains tor ix‘o. rty's sake. many
weie enslaved (‘srtl‘u‘lv ts b H not all were
felons. \\ ith tie c ‘:z:iit’;i:i¢c of the cor»
rupt officers of the Mcvfgt‘p there were
inanv instances it k dn :ppingUI‘he slave
trade with Africa. “II‘Cll was then pre-
carious and slight. coiiid not furnish
the colonies “:tli en; lt;ll labor. Even
:he etl‘ux of felons tmiu litigizsh prisons.
tilled. as tlicv were. with men accused
and coavi ‘te'd an si’;ll§ grounds. could
not supply labor :m: c o .gh. especially
since the terrors of the i mast Climate and
the severity of the not unpused killed OR
the pecaisiavcf rapidly. llcwrt was had
to force. and kidnapping Englishmen to
te Sold as slams in Virginia became al-
most as {reprint :is the map essment of
.\ii czic-in seamen far. I; itish ships at a
more bistora‘ lil‘lli'lI. Many of those
who escaped from th- coast plantation:
by flying to Ibe’moaht an lastiicsws were
therefore innovuit unto tunate, and de-
scrvin;r men. Lmbitttred by their fate,
made selfreliant by tit-fir solitude and
the terrors and dongch of their sur~
roundingsjll these confuscd yet distinct
elements grew up imbued with wild
couragehn instinct ve [I sregard for life.
and a character that “as I’uritsnic in
sortie dizev-tions what it was singularly
loose and. reckless in othcss. «ammo.
Billings.
Tradingon the (‘oa~t of Africa.
Along the nortlziast coast of Africa,
5011:); uf Capt: liuziuldfu'. there are no
towns worth iiienii Illllg {or some him-
dreds of miles. The 5. inali . alivcs who
.ivc along thccoast has- had scarcely
any dealings with “rt-2c: tradirs. A
little while ago a slum! firm in Aden
:iiadc upthcix in this that by maintain-
,mg regular eoaan II‘CulIUI'IS with this
; .oast they would Lu: nine to build up a
g‘od trade. They therefow bought a
little steam vessel and run! “It“? agent!
along the coast to to: the natives that at
certain times. if they won d I-zok out on
the sea. they would we a steamer can
ing. laden with harmful goods. to give
them in exchange if r hides, palm oil,
and the other irolucts o: the somali
region.
The little Vessel has now made several
trips, and the C\]k I’Iiht‘lll has proved o
great aimless. nnua lag that they may
expect the Simmer :1: the d .te fixed, tho
natives from in my mi es in the interior
{lo I; to the shore at the tllliefeiit points
where the vessel alvfi‘. A large crowd
Well burdened with obit-i is of i: change
await the steam: r.-\\i.ii b anchors otI the
coast while trading boats put ashore-mud
a live‘y market is s on in progress
wheres. few hours bi-fi to nothing could
be seen but the wide stretching sand:
that border tbss t0.t‘l.
'I‘hegonds that are ii est la diffused
among these nvw customers of the
whites are \ic. etian glamware and.
Ameriian cotton sh.rtings. They drive
very fair bargains. and it is noteworthy
that the poor stuffs Lacy bought at first
they now discard for better goods. The
same keenncss has been observed among
other African natives. The Congo tribes,
for instance. will not touch now thepoor
.iackknivcs and flimsy cottons they were
greedy for a few years ago. The grade!
of goods that the t ongo wt: now
takes to Africa for bartering purposes
along the river cost. on an average. from
sixty to a bundled per cent. more than
the goods that were sold to the native.
six or seven years ago—Nan Fart: Sun.
Barn! Life In Russia.
Usury is the greatest nightmare of In.
rat Russia at present, an evil which
seems to dog the peasant proprietor in
all countries alike. The “t. ombeen Mn"
is fast getting possession of the little
Irish owners. A man who hires land
v anuot borrow on it; the little owner is
tempted always to mortgage it at a pinch.
In Russia he borrows to the outside of
its value. to pay the taxes and get in his
crop. The “bondage Ialorers," i. 9.,
men bound to Work on their creditor‘s
land as interest for money lent. receivc
no wages and are in fat-t a sort of slavei.
They repay their extortioners by working
as badly as they can—a “level worst,“
far inferior to that of the arts of old,
they harvest three and a half or {our
stacks of corn when: the other peasants
get. five. The koalaks and lair-caters,
and other usurers. often of pegsut
origin. exhaust the peasant it every way;
they then foreclos: the mortgages, unite
the small pieces of land once more, and
reconstitute estates. A. koalak ll
notdto be tr'm {VIII}; he finds I than-
an occasion: or rave ; the man
cannot cheat the Jewnga‘a he does th:
landlord, midis being starved out—tho
mortalit I: enormous. In the multila-
tricts 0 England the death mai- 18
per 1,000. Inthe whole of Central Ru.
“attract:in {3‘53“ 1,000 atthelastro»
vision 2. "His (mi
frightfull 9" ”' '°
*d
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