u. we
. they had
3.?
thoAtehss. Thatia
scum NORWALK. acera.
Penman seinsca.
By the use of palladium. in the hairs l
ring and balance.
a Geneva watchmaker
c aims to have produced accurate time:
Ii?“ which are unaffected by magnet-
To aid in an analysis
1 ssor Cr’um Brown. of the Royal Society
of Edinburg. hopes to be able to make a
machine to give very loud imitations of
vocal sounds. He expects the apparatus
to hiss with thousaudaiian power.
A new discovery is that by the use of
citric acid or citrate of silver sea-water
may beniade drinkable. By this means
chloride of silver is precipitated and a
harmless mineral wateris produced. An
on no of citrateniakcsahalf—pint of water
drinkable. - .
.‘. Ecaf of the giant water lily (Victoria
re: :li has been known to measure twen-
ty .our feet 9} inches in circumference.
its weight being nearly fourteen pounds.
(lm‘ of the flowers was four feet two
in hes in circumference. with petals nine
in; hes in length.and weighed 3; pounds.
Platinum wire. experiment has shown,
can be drawn so line as to be invisible to .
the naked eye. although it can be seen
bv tho-aid of usniall magnifying glad
win-n laid upon a perfectly white card
held in such a positionrthat the \virccnsts
a nllillIU‘V. lt prc~cnce on the card can
also be detected by the touch.
In a paper to the Liverpool Astronom-
IPili5l1>‘lcl_\‘, Mr. W. ll. 5. )lozick sug-
gisted lntcly that. th:- pair/ling climatic
varin‘ions I‘t‘CUHlHl by the rocks may
have been pmilurcd by the near :ippronvli
to lilt‘rt'llflh of intensely hot stirs. This
tiny have been due to the traveling of
tlr- star itsrlf. or to the motion of the!
solar sys'eiu in spnv c. Morin;r \V Ill the
ettzt'n‘s own rate. a ('t'li‘Slllil body would
traversi- in 5t).llull.tl6ll) years the distance
Miniraiing our globe from the most re
more or the :o.oo-_i.ooo slum visible in
7 the most powerful tclvsqu ~‘. making it
. Lpo‘silaic that. with suitable pr TN 1110‘
tioiis. any or every star known may have
visited the solar s) >It‘lll ddring the period
commonly tlssullli‘il by gc-rlonios to have
elapsed since the first dawn of life. In-
tenscly hot stars may have added nia—
lerla, .y to llll' earth's heat without coin-
in; sufficiently near to greatly tit-range
the planetary orbits.
__.-._———-_—-———.——~
A Queer l'liiliiiilliriililst.
Stephen llirnrd was a man under a pos-
“$5.0m llc had it great talent. and it
dominated him. In his pursuit of busi-
ni-‘s he was as kvt‘li as a lover. and as
blin l to outside and divertingintiucin es.
It was not nioncyonaking that was his
:isslon. that came as a logical result;
lint he was absoriu'd in. and devoted to
business. He sometimes hardly accrued
to realize the value of money to other
lope. and that a man should be ruined
Tremor-e he could not command a ccrtaiu
Illlll on a certain day was almost a crime
to him. No one had a right to get into
such a position. and he should ask no
pity. Hi'avd had no patience with fail— .
urea. If a man had feet. let him stand
on them. No one found \lirzird willing
to act as ii crutch. although he could go
Into the houses whose very ir was dmlh.
and in his arms carry out ufen who were
dying with a pcstileii 1 He believed
in fraternity. but his enip I ycs were - his
cuiployca. In his counting room. his
bank. his house. thero was but one will,
and that was his own. He paid for the
can; done. for him. I‘Ill tho" worker
need more money! What was that to
his employer? He kept to his limits in
all his relations in lifv. and never lost a
clear sense of relative positions. After
his brother .lcau died. he took charge of
the. thieo orphan children hit in l‘hila~
dolphin. He sent them to the best.
schools. but he paid the bills out of the’
little cslalv‘ their father left. His house
, ‘as their home. and he wnv kind totlicin.
He never bought a shawl or lll‘t‘ai for one
that he did not for the others. and he re-
membered their girlish fabrics. After
married from his house ho
pz-ttcd their children. and liked to have,
them shout. and. lulu-d. felt :I right tar
the little pt-ople.,b\it he never adl ptcd
these little girls. and never si'r-lllwl to
have n father‘s" devotion for them. He
con-exp Ill'lt‘ll with llln‘ fillllllj in l:‘r:un~e.
but he \vmtuobnay watching the markets
of the world to give much Illll!‘ to indi~
yidualn. even if they were his relations.
—-.Uv'.)me.v{ic .llnnf‘ilgl.
‘7 » « ._._,. ~~ ——
Signsiof Wind.
Frank Dominick Navarrctte in the sov-
euteenth century discovered i‘eilaiu infal-
lible signs of winds. Unc in-vcr failing
token “was the running and fluttering
abrut of little insects aboard the ship,
and the more restless they are the higher
the wind. and by i’ilisi-rving what place
they come from mariners shall know if it
will be Iain“, Another sign. according
to his reverence. is when pigs begin to
run and tumble about a ship in a (a‘ni.
Bannigarten. in his “Travels.“ says he '
Was with a pilot who. by putting his tin~
ger in his mouth, and then holding it up,
“prognosticatcd to us that we should
have wind very speedily. which, indeed,
proved accordingly." All that the mod-
crn sailor can do by wetting his finger
and lifting it is to feel ifdhere be any
movement in the air. The digit has long
ceased to be a sibyl. Formerly the Brit~
tony fisherman raised the wind at will
bygprocuring the dust swept out of a cer-
tain church and blowing it in the direc- ,
tioa from which the had desired the
breeze to come. inian sailors also
ed the same useful art. To pro-
cure a fair wind they had nothing to do
but to sweep a chapel after mass ano
blow the dust of it after departing ships.
London! Telegraph.
A Dog That Catches Ijisli. .
I. N. McConnell, of Crawfordsvillc,
Ind, is the owner of a dog that he values
veryhighly. It isa full blooded Scotch
shepherd, about one year old. The canine
in a smart one, and seems to understand
every word that is spirit-.m- to it.‘ Among
‘ many accomplis eats is that of
7 7 an expert fisherman. He will take
I“ " thm in a drift in a small stream
£51.; neat-Mr. McConnell‘s house. and
making a racket. will scare the fish out lung
the water. where he can southern. Then
tiling suddenly he will daring a fish up
«fin his mouth. This operation he with-e.
Monti] he catches as many asha
' wants. Spectators on the banks. in no
who embarrass him in his piscatorial pur-
luit. Thodogis very fond of fish-ad
the 01;:in
. proceeding, as
' that in mm imp iy his
mm Mthoycar mun if the
could only be taught to retrieve,
headlight him a‘few leuonainthat
of noise, Pro—
,beinghso-mach knocked about.
THE HEIGHTS AND THE VAT.“ .
Then a. gray clouds in the valley,
Clouds and mists and chilling rain,
But the heights are bathed in sunshine,
There we look with longings vain.
Silver moonlight in the valley,
Glitters on the heights above.
. While the dew-drops in the valley,
Kiss the lilies that they love.
On the heights there are no lilies,
They love best the valley low,
All that glitters on the heights. is
Diamond, ice and pearls of snow,
THE ABANDONED BRIG.
A SAILOR‘S sronv.
A more singular incident‘ than one
which occurred while I was one ‘of the
crew of the ship Stranger. is not to be
found in the records of the sea. We
loaded at Liverpool for the Cape and
ports beyond. on the west coast of Africa.
Our last port of call was to be Zanzibar.
Before leaving the docks at Liverpool
two or three of us took down the map
hanging on the wall at our b-tarding
hOUSi' and traced out the course. “'hcu
we came to figure up the. distance we5
were amazed. W hen we came to figure
on the perils of such ii voyage we won-
dered how many of us would live to see
the palms of Africa. The average lands—
man sees a ship pull out of her dork
without asking or caring which way she
Is to 53o. how long the voyage is to be,
or what the pi-r‘. ‘ of her course; I‘vr-
haps it is not 113‘ lllnlllt‘ss to ask or care. :
Each vocation in lift~ inn its profits and f
perils. and it is :ccin‘ngly left to each?
toiicr to work out his own salvation.
Well. we h “I hurlinl :r‘ l'ort Natal to
unload :~oiii~~ inn hint s. and \i we headed :
up for tho .\l~~/::i:il~i.pn~ \‘IILIIIIIY'I. uhcni
we ~_1_ot (‘:l“_:lll in a cyclone. It came on l
about lll o‘c‘n» *k in the Ill oiling. and we.
had cvrrithing‘ snug to nnrt it. Twit-
Coasting .s‘rluiiltlut‘s’. llntll found our.
way. li:ol come out of Natal with us. and '
“In-n tin» storm (:lllll‘ howling doun both :
were in full sight. Insidi- of l}\t‘llI“i
niinntus one foundcrcd and \\l'lII to tln- .
bottom. and the other we :lllllinsl ran ,
OVcr us she drifted bottom up. we had i
a big craft. and she had tulun out enough:
cargo to float like a cork; but within on?
our the sea got up until a mill pondi
nuistant‘y washul our decks. and now
and llii-n a wave urine uVi‘t‘ the ruilfi
which tilled her until we ~tood hip dwp
in tho frothy \lel'l‘. We had to knock
away a portion of the l-ulwarks to give;
or a chance to unload. but t‘\'|‘ll thrn:
:hl'l’t‘ “t’l‘i‘ occasions when it sri'im‘d :is‘ if
lhe would not rm- with hoir burden. . ll
don‘t rcnn-mln-r that any of us wcrc‘
frightened. lioth watches were on duty,
the ollii-rrs alert. and we knrw thii llu‘ll' .
ing could be dono. I‘\\‘l‘l\l to stand rmuly
if any snddrn [ll‘l'll nirnnriwl us. \\ V
were lli'l lying to. as would ll:|\<‘ llvt‘ll'
the rose in a roaring gale. \Viili tin~
wind arr dining and shrieking along :it
the rule of eighty or nine!) lllllx'.‘ llll
hour. no ship could have l~c n livid up to
it. cvei ifsln- \vcr» not driven under.
stern ti s‘.
I had been ‘fllllll: for liftx‘in years.
had Ilt‘Vi‘I'
and yet encountrrul
anyzhiiig like this storm. The .in
-r of it was appalling. It seemed
$‘tvnnincd tli ll nothing made by the
hand of‘inun should snrvhc it. When
we slid downrinto tho grog! hollows be
tween the waves the wind was lusl to lh
on the decks. but it round and slirivkrd 2
through our toplnuiipcr like ten thousand i
mud devils. '1 lion. as we slowly (‘llllllii‘il ,
the slce i hill of water. the ship seeming 1
to stand almost pvrpeiidiculpr on her.
stern. the wild blasts struck us again.
until evvry man had to hang on for his
life. Win-n we acre in the full embrace
of the storm the report of a field pim‘i‘l
could not have been heard twenty ft‘rl. i
I had only one look :Lstcrn of the shi i. :\ f
tivcrpo’und notc could not have hirc‘ inc ‘
to look again. A great wallof water.
crested with six feet of froth. was rush
ingdowu us if to roll over us. and I shut
my eyes and held my breath. lt lifted
the ship and thing her forward as a boy
.aiglit toss a chip. but l \\'\=lll\l not look
agiiii, .
It was about noon. and I was making
my way all to IV“ the t‘nptain that we
could make out some sort of a wreck on
our port bow. when we were swept by a
Wine from stern to stem. My grip on
the life line was broken as the waters
rushed-over inc. and neat instant I'kncw
I was being carried over the rail. As I
want I bumped against two of the men,
buried over their hcads in water, but
hanging on for life. I clutched at our
of them. and tore a piece from ‘
his jacket. and thirty seconds .l;it-~r
I was overboard for good and
_ trying to get my licad above the
, foam. which piled up on the surface like
ycnst. “‘licn I did get a look around
me the ship was a quarter of a mile away.
and just sinking into a hollow. I know
it has been the case with most sailors
who have been put in such peril that no
hope of salvation existed. that a fer-ling
of exultazion was torn. It was so with
me. I had a profound pity for the poor
fellows on b llll‘d the Stra err. Tllt‘ll‘
danger St'clllvfd far greater than mine.
They would drive on until the ship '
grounded or struck a rock. and every .
soul of them would perish Qu the cruel I
ledges or be drowned in the clutch of the
deadly undertow. My death would be
easy and withou: pain. All I had to do.
Was to cease struggling and sink 'down. ‘
down, down to a peaceful sleep below .
the vexed surface. I was doubtless .
drowning when this feeling was upon
me, but. somethtng occurred to arouse f
me. Some object bumped against me. ‘
and instinctively I reached out toward it. *
It was a part of the cook‘s galley or house. 3
The wave which had swept me overboard §
had smashed the house and sent one I
whole side of it after me. I can reniein- 3
her that I knew what the object was, and '
that I grasped it and felt that I had al
chance for life. but then comes a blank. ?
Isuppose I ’wns buffeted about until I ’
lost consciousness. but I had a grip on ‘
the wreckage which even death would:
not have released. .
The next thing I remember was a feel- ,
ing of thirst. I thought I was wandering .i
in the woods in search of a spring, and i
the longer I hunted the more [thirsty I;
became. I was about to slide down all
bank into a dark ravine when I opened i
my eyes and found myself extended on;
the wreckage, either hand gripping so:
firm] that it. was only after several trials :
that could open my finweis. The wind g
had gone down a good - cal, and with it !
some of the fury of the sea. but I was:
still being tossed about in a very un~
comfortable manner. The sun was about.
half an hour high, and as the events of
the day slowly comeback tomy befogged
bmin, I figured that it was now coming
on to sunset. Half an hour later. greatly
to my surprise, the sun was much higher,
and by and by I was forced to the com
clusion that it was morning, and that: I
had floated all the afternoon and all night.
Hunger and thirst soon proved the cor.-
rectncan of thisoonclnaion. ' As the sun
came up the wind and son went down,
and before noon I‘was pretty comfortably
fixed, though stiff and bniised from
, 'l‘ln-rt- was a lot of llt‘t‘lnp hamper on the ‘
the wreckage sir-wed in toward the hulk.
: rope and draw myself on board. I
, ropes holding the wreckagealongside. I
3931*
-... gov ;.,-..—Mo-~My~m M“
and ambition were slow in coming, and
it was fully midday before my mind was
clear. Did I hope? Yes. Hope is the
last thing to desert a sailor, no matter
how desperate the circumstances. It was
almost ho against hope, however. I
uuderstoo something of navigation. and
knew that it was a circular storm which
struck the ship. There was no telling
how large the circle, or whether the
Stranger was on the outer or the inner
edge. I afterward learned that we were
very near the centre. and did not feel the
force as much as ships 100 miles to the
south. or west. A great; part of the
island of Madagascar was ravaged, and
terrible havoc was created seventy-five’
miles inland from Port Natal, East
London. Georgetown and the Cape.
Two whaleis 120 miles to the west of us
\vt-re disniastcd. and two others went.
down with all hands.
I think it wasabout ten o‘clock in the
forcnoon when. as I wens heaved up on a
sca. I caught sight of a craft dead ahead
of me and not more than ii mil ‘ away. I
didn‘t make her out very well fora time.
as thcrc was a haze in the- sky and the '
spray flying about me. but when I drifted
nearer I found her to beadiniiflstcd brig.
It was :i mercy that I was driving straight
down upon her. for I had‘nt the strength
to turn my unwieldy float in either direru
tioii. ’l‘hcrc wcrc no signs of life about
the wreck. and I made up my wind for a
tremendous struggle to get aboard of
her. She “'llS a hulk. and bring tossed
about like :i cork. and there wasnotclling .
how long she would float. but I felt that .
ifl Illis‘t‘ll her I should drift awav to an
awful death from hunger and thirst. It
5~‘i‘lllt‘tl as if Provident-c guiifled my float.
The wreck was stern on to ltlt‘. This
was proof that ll\‘!‘ whccl had been lzishcd.
and that her steering gear was all right.
You would llth.‘ thought she w.nt‘dhuvc
drove faster than my float. and I was sub
pri~cd that she didn‘t. It was fnnnd.asl
in iy tell you here. that one of lll‘l‘ aii«
chora‘ was ov~;rbo:ird. with ten fathomsl
of chain titlui'licd l0 ll. This gave
her a ln-uvy drug. and my pare. was
twice as fast as hers. “'ln-u I came up:
3 I drove past lu-r stern on the port side. l
ini<~ing her by not more than four feet. _
port side held there by ropes whivh had
not been severed and I drove into this :
mus: as we \vcut into the trough of the i
a. (‘liinbing up the height bcvond.
and I seized the opportunity to grasp u
did
not get there before receiving several
hard bumps. and when I was safe on deck
I had to sit down for a while to recover 2
my breath.
The decks were in a terrible litter. and
a good share of the bnlw iks on the star-
boouis and cvcrvthing else movable had 1
l
, gone. and it was plain enough that the
brig had born wave-swept. As a sailor l l
could tell by the feel of her that she had i
lillli‘ Hl‘ no water in lit‘t’ llOllI. and that
w is the main question with me just then.
The tirat move I made was to begin at the
llul in)- slit‘alli knife to work with. and
latcron found an ax. and in abut ll‘ilftlll ;
hour I had the satisfaction of sci-int! .
everything go clear.
work of it riding the waves after that.
and the danger of having a butt started
was disposed of for good. It was only
after I had rlcarcd the wreckage away
inc. and .1 put away the an and looked
around for water.
lashed firmly in its place. with a cork in
the bung. and after a little hunting I
along and refreshing draught. Not
drop of silt water had entered the barrel
way. with the 'cook‘s galley. stewavd‘s
pantry. and all that sort of thing below I
decks. Ifound everythingmucli knocked
about and broken. but in the Coppers was
a piece of beef. thoroughly done. and l
broad. \Vith these articles of provcuder
I returned to the dockand ate until Iwas
thoroughly satisfied. '
Not the slightest suspicion that any
mind.
was about through with my llli'aI. and
was thinking of Illil‘wrl‘lL!‘ a careful inves-
tigation lwlmv. when l
dock from my seat on the “till" lllli‘ll.
and I found myself on my luck with a
man on top of me. his hand on my throat.
and his knee on my chest. It ‘airie upon
lllt‘ so vvr} sudden that I had no strength
for a time. It was only when the stranger
raised his othx'r hand. which clutched an
iron bclziying pin. to give inc a blow on
mt- licad. that I put forth any effort. It
was well for lllt‘ that I was in the prime
of life and possy‘sscd of lots of strength.
for he was a burly fellow and determined
to do for inc. I torc'his clutch loose. and
put forth a great etfort and turned him
over. but we had a terrible struggle be
fore I conquered him. I did not get the
better of him until I had given him a rap
over the head with the same pin. “'hile
he was unconscious I tied him hand and
~fortrand then for the first time got a
good look at hirii. lie was a common
sailor. strong as a bull. and without
doubt. a lunatic. Fear of death had un—
settle] his mind. and led him to hide
himself away when the others left the
brig. He had looked upon me as an
enemy. and no doubt intended to take
my life.
\Vell. after I had the man securely tied
be recon-red consciousness, and it was
well that I had not been sparing of the
rope. He made herculean efforts to
break loose. and, being now in a sort of
frenzy, he would have been more than a
match for me. His screams and .shrieks
and curses were awful to hear. and I left
him securely tied to the deck and dc~
scended into the cabin. Searccly any-
thing here had been disturbed by human
hands. I found the brig‘s log. and from
it I made out that. her name was the Saint
Joseph. and that she had been up the
coast on a trading voyage. She had a
cargo of fine woods hides, furs. spices.
and dried fruits, and carried a crew of
twelve men. The last entry in the log
told of a fair run and fair weather. Her
cargo I got. from her papers. When I had
thoroughly ransacked the cabin I went
forwardto the forecastle. The men had
gone without their bags. 'flien I went
on deck, found the sounding rod, and
sounded the well. The brig did not
have two inches of water in her. I was
fussing about for a couple of hours, and
during all that'timc the lunatic never
ceased to scream and shout. and try to
burst: his bonds. When I finally got
around to see if Icould not do somethinw
for him be all at once subsided, and
would neither look at nor speak to me.
During the afternoon the wind was
constantly falling and the sea ‘going
down, and the weather put on such a
settled look that I grew very hopeful. I
wasaboard of a hulk, drifting I knew
not where, and had: dangerous man for
n comrade, but than was plenty to eat,
the, was dry. and the chancos’of
being sighted and rescuedwm good. It
"he iulk ma e t .
l l d h“ ; inarly stationary.
l
l
l
soon turned up a fair supply of ship‘sl
l
f
l
. . . . . \ united b ' int -rvals of rest.
found the drinking can and indulged in * “l 3 i »
“ of equilibrium.
. . . ‘crt-asin"
l‘o satisfy my hunger I must go below. i 5‘
i The brig was built in the old-fashionml
;
x
l
. \\
.oncliving was aboard had crossed uiv'f
Indeed. I was only too thankful ?
that I had not encountered any dead. I %
up the litter.‘ Men the sun finally went
down the night came on hazy, and the
wind fell to a two-knot breeze. I was in
a great quandary as to what to do with
the man, who seemed to have been asleep
for several hours. I lighted the ship‘s lan-
terns and hung them overboard. and
then. about two hours after dark, I car
ried the man some tea and bread and
canned fruit. He lay on the broad of
his back, and was deaf to my soothing
words. I held up his head and put the
tea to hislips, and in nnstant he seemed
to go wild. By a mighty effort be
looscnd the ropes—I afterward found he
had gnawed some of them in twain—and '
next instant hewas upon me. Neither
of us had any weapons, nor was there
opportunity to secure one. “'e grappled
each other, and in less than a minute I
saw that it; was his life or mine, or per~
Imps both. lie was seeking to drag me
to the broken bulwarks. and I wu scck~
ing to prevent. He had a grip like death.
and as we struggled hack and forth
:iinidshipa we tore the clothes off of each
other. a (I used our hands and feet
whenevc there was an opening. lie.
was the stronger of the two,
butI could use my fists the better.
and this evened us u i. I said that we
had no weapons. I ha my sheath knife,
but I did not propose to “Sc that until
I felt that my life depended upon it. The
time finally‘came. ] was growing weak,
and while he seemed as strong as ever. I
was fins! about to Iofil‘l‘n the grip I had
on him with my right hand ant reach for
my knife when there was a great shout
from the hows. a number of men came
running along the decks. and a voice
which I recognized :3 that of the master
of the Stranger called out :
“What is it: Who are you? What is
going on f“ ‘i ,
“Lay hold of him. Mr. Jameson: lic's
crazy 3“ I shouted. and with that four or
tiw mcn seized him and thing him to the
l lli’l‘k.
Now. let inc tell you what had hap-
pened. lwns lost overboard from the
shin about midday. Six hours afterward
Silt:\‘||l‘llllf_‘,‘ alcak. and was abzunloin-d
just before she went down.
got away in two boats.
storm. and were heading ii}
iii ll\l’ll
c M1ula~
: roads rough. steep and hard. take off
, divrit the line of draft
, skin and Ill‘z‘lllll c the ptixtn'ur intlainma—
. 1F
> toxin in net and muddy.
The crew .
the i
' trig. and thus prevents poisoning of the
gnu-av when they spit-d my lights and al- V
tvrcd their coursi- to make thi- wreck.
~ inflammation
'l‘ln~_v had hailed the hulk second litmus. ‘
:aiid finally came aboard Just in time to
iprcsscnt adv-ml which would have been
’a burden to my peace of mind forever
l after. The crew which lift the brig were
lucvu-r heard of more. while the lunatic
5 died next dayul'tor our men came aboard.
Not a man from the Stranger was lost.
‘ and we rigged up the brig and took her
to the (‘ape. am the salvage more than
i paid for the loss of our ship and Cargo.
. bu ll'llv side had been wasln-il nu ay. Bonn. i '3‘“: Iorl‘ 5'1”-
7-
G row th in Children.
The rati‘ of growth in children varici
accord in; to sex. Thus. at the age of
\‘lt‘\i‘l\ and twelve years. boys are lirgci
and heavier than girls. but from that
age on the evolution of the girls is more
. rapid. and they soon overtake the boy:
:and pass tin-m. till the age of tifiwn
years is reached, when the boys regain
the tlfli't‘lldl‘llt‘)‘, while the girls remain
.\ curious relation
has been discovered between the growth
ulirty and progressively. but by stays
Weight
also increases by periods :iftcr intervals
While the weight is in-
thc stature remains nearly
stationary. and vice versi. The maximum
of increase of statute rorrclpouds~ with a
.ininiunuu period of augmentation of
weight. The vital forces appear nor to
work on both sides at Ulll‘t‘. These
variations are Sllllp‘l t to the intlncnce of
the scisoiis. During Autumn and early
\Vinter, according to .\l. .‘lallingdlansi‘n.
the child ai‘i‘llnitllzitrs weight. while his
stature inmca~cs slowly; but during
5 wing. stature receives a veritable push.
lhiic vcightincrcasws but little. .‘oine
local habits have an IllIIlli‘IICt‘ on
stature. Stcndlnil rrniirkcd that many
llouiun girls had deformed vertebral i oi.
unins, or were a IlIIil' huiups‘oarkml. and
‘ . foind that it was 1h.- n-snlt of :i llalvllldl
was suddenly ,
M‘llt‘il froiii‘bvhind. flung violently to the i
belief prevailing in Home that parents
could promote the ginwtlt of their
children by punthing them in the buck‘
——Il p'iitu- Science J] >2!th
__._- ____
The Grave of a Famous Horse.
0n the crest of a hill :1! l‘hcster. New
York, close by the roadside. the founder
of the greatest family of light-harness
horses slccps.’ The grave is enclosed by
a frail. picket
brnrs this inscription: “llysdyk‘s llam-
blctouian. fouled May 5. le'ltl; died
March ‘27. 1876." The little gate which
opens from the road is barred by a large
stone. and he who would stand upon the
sacred soil must climb a fence. A younn-
elni is growing above the mound. ant
thirty feet away is a wild cherry now in
blossom. The dandelions grow like
drops of gold'in the tender gram. and an
atmosphere of sweetnem and quiet bathes
the hills. The great horse rests not more
than 100 yards from the stable which
sheltered him. and among the seencs of
his triumphs. He made Mr. Ryskyk a
rich man. and surprise is often expressed
that he was not more generously remem-
bered in the will. But Mr. Rysdyk was
an odd character. He once became dis-
«usted with horses. and offered. as Mr.
L‘avin well remembers. all his stock, in-
cluding Hambletoniau. for sale. Only a
few neighbors attended the auction, and
as no bids were made the stallion was
preserved to him. Some goddess of good
fortune seemed to interfere and ward off
the evil. As Mr. Ryskyk‘s income
increased he gratified his passion
for land proprietorship. and farm after
farm was added to the modest homestead.
Nearly all these land: have passed from
his descendants, and now strangers are
asked to subscribe to a fund for erecting
amonument over the rave of Ramble
tonian.—New York Commercial.
Daniel Prat: as a Poet.
Speaking about the late Daniel Pratt,
the crank known as the “Great Ameri-
can Traveler,“ a writer in the 303W“
Advertiser says: Years a: , when the
writer was a “devil“ in a printing office
in Chariestoavn. harmless old Daniel
Pratt used to call occasionally to talk
politics with the printers. We 00““ “0t
then realize his greatness, although he
often used to tell us of it. His shocking.
bad, tall hat, as it loomed up over the
cases on the other side of us. wasa grand
target for three~em quads and slugs. It
used to make Daniel mad when his hat
was hit, and his ravi afi'orded great
delight. One day he. bronght in an ad-
vertisement for a wife, to be printed in
the paper, as he had become tired of liv-
‘ g alone. It cloned withthm pathetic
lino! :
rant-d: ler 'wiro
Who'lleheu-mv‘
was. afternoonmmq though’ I was
. lite;
trims: area.
‘ e\rcilcnt forllze skiu.:ii~.d tiltcrn minutes
. troublrsome to curr than if cut iJiVI‘; but
. this i~ more than coniprmanrd for by the
of children ii stature nnd'in wright. M. .
\laliing llauxcn. Director of the Deal ;
~ , % l llunib Institution at t‘opcnhawcn '
lit 3‘ \l‘. ‘ ‘1 ‘lm ‘. ".‘
i u l ‘ it h u ‘2" and ”m“ l “n 0 mm“ l has for years \\ ciglu‘d and incisnrx-d his
. n iIs l. 'lv; u . :15 oh crv ii that
The scuttle butt was ,1 ip i u , a d be h s . u
LID
i The lit-st weather for t‘loverdtay making
- is when the sun is not very hot and the 3
.nir is dry.
aimless the stack is protected by betwr
. material.
the .
l
l
l
l
‘ very careful to watch them and see that
fcnre. and a marble slab .
. , . V|‘I'\'
flour growth does not take place reg-l '
- says a farmer in the 5):...
AGRICULTURAL
TOPICS OF INTEREST RELATIVE
TO FARM! AND GARDEN.
Cabbage Worms and Squash Bugs.
A correspondent of the .New England
Homestead says: Cabbage worms never
trouble an English gardener of my ac—
paintance. When they first appear he
ves a tablespoonful of saltpetre in a
pailful of tepid water and gives the plants
a good sprinkling. The worms will dis-
appear speedily. If they begin after a
few days to appear again, renew the
sprinkling and you will seldom have oc-
casion to apply it a third time. It pr0«
biota the growth of the plants. too.
Seeing him planting his melons. Squashes
and cucumbers, I asked him if the bugs
would not destroy the vines. He said
he was never troubled by striped bugs.
“'hen he prepared the hills be planted a
circle of beans six inches apart around
the outer edge of each hill. The beans
would come up just before melons, etc.
would appear, and no bug would molest
the vines. I have tried these two remedies
myself for ten years with perfect sucrcss.
Hints About Horses.
Unless the farm is very stony and the
the shuns at IIlIn season and let the hoof
get sunn- natural growth, says a. farmer
in the New York friinru'. It is a waste
of tinn- and money to shoe a plow-train Q
or farimtunni in the summit-r. Ill~tittingr
collars are the bane of futltivlt‘dllh‘; they
and bruise the
shoulders; they set loosely and (draft: the
neck. Too often tliu-voliarsari- too long.
In this Vii»: one of the rim: s ullur pulls
will shortrn Illt‘ roilar and prevent bruis—
ing the Ill‘ik. Muddy legs ir.‘ H c
tion know u as grins-u This is in »re ensi»
ll't'Yt'IlIt'll than cute-l. “fish the legs
and rub tln-m dry uhcno-vrr the llnrs‘r‘S
lilh‘t‘t’llte ls
Iilv: lit-st cinuliirii‘ for the skin: but more
be nu~c it is may procured. t rii-le pc-
troiiuiu is :lllllsi‘plir. emollient and heal
skin. softens it and prevents hrating and
rind cures uli~c;.<c when
want of run- prodtn cs this too common
result. Friction with :i woofrn rubber
cithrr dry or w ct as the rau- may be. is
apt-tit e-ii-ry day in rubbing down a horse
will ln- “ell employed. For all kinds of
Vermin rub the hair. ll“! the skin. witlin
brush or sponge moistened with kerosene
and glycerin».- ui equal parts.
{flak lug (‘luver Hay.
(‘nt the clover as soon as you can see
any liruils turning brown. (‘ut at this
align. Illl‘ i‘lover \vlil main: a lt'ss Wright 1
than ifrut later; but it will have a tracer
food value. a larger part of it bring dr
gcstiblr. As the heads ripen. the tvr E
centage of woody fibre in the plant:
stradlly Increase“. {‘ut as soon as tin-
earliest blosmiih~ begin to turn. it is more
'rcatcr \ aluv of the swond crop. whether
it. is cut for hay or seed. \Vhen cut at
the right. season. and \vvllcurcd. the
nutritive value of clowr hay is fully
equal to that of ‘l‘tinolliy. and is greater
in many food combinations. on account 5
of its hi;hcr albuminoid ratio. (lover
is ilijurml by too much sun. .\
hot sun is not «iv-sllzll‘ic. as it
“burns“ the clou‘r. makingthi- iravrs
brittle that they will bmak olI
in handling. If allow cdto get too ripe
before it is cut. or if cut when the dew is
on. the ctlert is of the same nature. It
will cure not a litt‘c in tlivcock. and this *
curing is more desirable than snnilrying.
The less handling necessary the better.
The worst weather is—u ifor-
tunatrly. not uncomniou~hot sun an! 3
moist atmosphere; tin-n the hay “burns
out.“ and sudden show‘ers may be e.\-
pu‘lcil.
Cloier hay will not keep in astac‘a.
In the West. where “lost of
the hay is stacked. this is arcouipiishi-d
by putting timothy on the top. Large
b:irt‘a.~k<-—opcn sh «is-arc ot'tiu used. .
These cost but litzlv. :iinl atfotil good:
protection. Ilut n'thing else equals a;
good mow: and nearly all the value of"
clover hay \lt‘lk'tl-ls upon its curing and
keeping—Amen.an .rlyrfruiturbr.
Treatment for Young Pigs. \
My mode of treatment for young pigs.
rum]. is: Intlie;
first placcat'ter the pigs are fart-owed I am f
thesow does not ovrrlay them and that
their bed is kept clean and dry. I do no; .
feed the sow \cry much for six or eight ’
dayS. do not feed any slop until the pigs,
are live \“t‘t‘ks old. tin-n I do not give any
aiur slop. for it will give the pigs the;
scours. which will stunt or kill them. I .
do not allow them toliavc very much bed- ’
ding whic young, and it should be ‘
changed twice a u eck. As soon asthey 7
are old enough toca‘. corn I sink a trough
in the ground so they can get to it easy
and feed them soaked corn in it. If I
want them for show pizza I give them all
they can eat with a pint of slop to each
pig twice a day: 'if I want them for fall
trade. let them run on grass through the
summer. and do not feed very much
corn. as I think pigs kept in this way will
make bigger bugs with better constitu~
tions than when fed too strong while
young. as you are liable to break them
down in the feet and ruin their constitu-
tions for breeding purposes, which is
one of the main things we are looking
after. My observation has been that pigs
fed for the show ring never‘amount to
much as breeders: this is not. always the
case, but you will find it so nine cases
out of ten. I have been in the show
ring nine years and have ruined more
§°°d pigs by feeding too young than
y disease. The best result I ever had
was not. to feed any corn till the pigs
were four months old, then when I be—
gan to feed them it would not be long
till they began to curl their tails, and
by the time they were six months old
they would weigh two hundred to two
hundred and fifty pounds; then you are
not ashamed for them to be seen. I had
thirty male pigs last season that Itreated
in this way that were hard to beat, and
it was no trouble to find sale for them.
and every man who got one iswell sat-
isfied. Too many get too anxious and
feed their pigs to death while young. I
know that was the case with me when
I first started in the business. A new
beginner generally thinks he kno ws more
than the man who has been in the busi-
ness for years, and .he finds out when'it
is too late that. he knows nothing
about the business and if he had taken
some advice he would have been sev~
eral hundred dollars better ofi. I use
charcoal, sulphur, salt, ashes, and a lit-
filo black antimony mixed togetherto
cap my hogs in a healthy condition.
M and. Garden New ..
Potash fertilizers have-decidedly. is»
proved desirable (pantie-Muham-
l
:pvrfvcfiou during
:tiivy should be so placed as to be fully
. vicralilc
, maln- it.
1 water plants.
; clean pure w_atcr.
Don‘t use any parsnip seed unless it be r‘
of last year’s growth. as such seed doe!
not xiiidly germinate if old.
It is claimed that sorrel can be eradi~
cated from fields by tlgz‘fenerous appli-
cation of unleached w ashes.
Milk from healthy cows can easily be
kept. pure and sweet in trencha with
water at about seventy-five degrees.
\Vhenever pear trees areattackcd by
blight, which comes without warning.
cut away every blighted portion and,
burn it.
Keep your milk sweet and pure.- To
a supply of impure milk epidemics of
diphtheria. typhoid fever. scarlet fever,
and other ailments have been frequen’tly
traced.
Do not feed meal or any other food
that is full of parasites. as it will cause
worms in the fowls. If you use such,
not only scald it. but cook thoroughly,
and it will do no harm.
It is often better to hatch the turkey
eggs under the hen than under the
turkey hen. as the hen turkey is too im-
patient of confinement and is apt to lead
her young ones away at an early age.
Never use sulphur on the bodies of
young chicks. for gapcs or any other dis-
ease. Lard and sulphur applied while in
the downy state will cause sores and tor-
ture—sonmtimes death. This we have
found true-~10 our cost.
Blackberry vines should be well culti-
vated after the fruit has been picked. The
old cam-s shozml not be cut out until late
in the fall. but the new cant-4. which
!are to produce nvxt year‘s crops, will be
greatly benefited by cultivation.
Young chickens, as soon as weaned,
should be provided with suitable ll‘l‘t‘lll’s.
Make them iowand on a level. It “ill
be bettcrfor their Il"‘llIil to get the
young fouls off the :rozrnd as soon as
posibfc. no not uigu'l to provide a
\lnul‘ Ul' SlllIi‘.
In order to have the oxa‘is flower to
the winter months
i~\poscd to the .~\lll as muvh as ptulib'e.
They will grow w eli enough in any light
siiiiu‘ion. but if flowers are wanted they
must be exposed to thesun.
(‘lover is one of the greatest con.
sinners of lime among farm crops. and
this explains the marvelous ctlect of
sulphate of lime or land plastvr in mak-
ing clover catch. Un heavy soil a dn-ss
ing of too p Hinds of gypsum per acre
rarely fails to bring good clover.
Farmers everywhere should make it
lll"l!‘ special business. as it is their
right to see for Iht‘l’ll‘l‘lVl‘S that the pro-
p owl gift of film“) a rear to each State
for the institution of cxpvrinn-nt. stations
by the agricultural \(Illf‘gf‘s. is applied
.strirtly to that purpose. and that the
.mlironie siia‘l le as practicil and scr-
as able rid faithful men can
'l‘hw- oat is a splendid food for young
animals because. tompan-d with rain}.
’ straw. rim. i'. is rich in muscle and bonc~
forming elements: and this aim makes it
a splendid fo «l for work animals. L‘ora
‘sliould be fed sparingly to work annn sis.
during the summer months eqwriully. an
it is a heating food. It will pay to make
the grain :ution of outs in the morning
and ill noon.
Duri in: the summer a good use for house
slops and wash waiter is in using them to
l'tilizc tin c t!)\~—-Uld fruit
cans will answer. Punch 3 very small
hole in the botoni. Set war the tomato.
cucunlwr and melon vines. or any other
variety of plants that need plenty of
moisture. and keep them supplied with
«water. This furnishes the moisture and
:at the same time adds good fertilizing
material.
lligh priced cows that are fed for milk-
ing Ii'\l~ are induced to eat and drink all
. they will of sound. wholesome food and
Silage and roots are
largely fed as suplcmental food. the idea
being that these keep the animal‘s system
in guid. llt‘rllifly condition. Sliced car-
rots form one of the favorite foods {or
milclicows. In addition to rations of
ro‘ts are given generous quantities of
rim er. hay and grain.
Hungarian grass and millet are two
grass irops that are grown in summer.
, the seed being sometime“ sown as late as
July. but June is better should a rain
o cur. The Hungarian griss afford!
s veral cutting-mining the same season.
and is excellent for horses when cured.
Millet grows very tall. makes a heavy
crop. but is ino‘ocrl only once. Both
crops nccd rich soil. but ran be grown
on sandy soil if it be properly mannrcd.
In hot. dry weather. gladioli will re-
pay the attention of a mulch of rotten
manure over the beds. and applying
' water freely if thought necdful. It is the
right course to place supports in the
earliest stages of the spikes. as the broad
lvcacs are much acted upon by gall-s of
wind. and if the roots got loosened the
plants soon suffer. Those having- spots
about the home so shady that grass will
not grow. may rely upon the hardy ferns
for embellishment. \Vild ferns abound
in all parts of the country. in woods and
wane places. and can usually be had for
the diggint’.
The insects attacking the grapevine
are mainly large caterpillars. which are
most. readily picked by hand; the so-
callcd "tilt-fps," which is roperly the
“grapevine leaf hopper.“ an not related
to tl:etrue thrips. It is a little whitish
insect which often rises in clouds when
the vines are disturbed. The but treat-
ment is to go among the vines with
torches, gently beating them to disturb
the insects, which will at once fly toward
the light. The first appearance of gray-
ish syots on the under sides of the vine
indicates mildew. and flowers of sulphur
should be. applied with a bellows made
for the purpose.
Many persons gather seeds for the
season al in one day. and that far along
in the scan in. It is better to commence
with the first flower of spring and keep
it up all through the season. A corre-
spondent writes that she usually carries
in her ket a small ball of twine. and
when s e sees an extra fine flower from
which she would like seed she ties a bit
of twine around the stem. and when
among the flowers she is on the lookout
for the ripened seeds of such. These
she fliers and ties up in the corner of
her andkcrchief. or in cheese cloth. nar-
rowly hemmed for the purpose. which
she has provided expressly for gathering
in.
It is curious how little attention '3
given to the cultivation of those garden
crops that require very httle_ care and
yet that are so much appreciated when
brought upon the table. Spinach is one
of the crops. Itis found in but corn-
paratively few rdens. and yet is
easily grown an is very relishsble. It
might have been sown last autumn, and
if hghtly mulchod would have been all
right. It may be sown in the spring as
soon as the ground isfit. and two weeks
frompthn first lowing than may be a
. Tl . ,
Inquire-
madam
“an“:
andtbo the
.
310th y;
E
.1
If
It but
with all
, every week or two.
i
l
i
l
l
c
l
!
E
l
.
i
annual
“fur-2M ' in
MILLIONAIRES.
THE PEGULIARlTlfl 0F sour.
WEALTHY HEN.
A Daring Real Estate Spec-ulster
—William “'aldorf Astor—A
Sleepy Millionaire—A Vic-
tim to an Impulse.
Blakely Hall says in one of his New
York letters to the San Francisco
Arc-(maul: When I think of it, million-
aires never resemble one another. Yester-
day. for instance. I walked for a few
bltM'liS behind a- gentleman of trim
physique and thoughtful mien. His
figure was as well molded as that of a
fashionable leading man, and his coat
was a marvelous fit. Ilis grey beard was
trimmed to a point. and he strolled
along. the picture of adilettante. artistic,
and rather precise lounger. Sobody
seemed to know him. although he was on
his native heath. His face “'35 serene.
He might have been an elderly society
man. a gentleman of leisure. or an
aristocratic poet. His name is quite
as unfamiliar to the world as he was per-
sonally unknown on Fifth avenue that
day. His fortune is estimated at twenty:
millions. his name is \Vibon. and he is
one of the must daring and slivi'csiful of
Speculators in real estate. Ilis Sun mar~
ricd Bliss Astor two years ago. and so
strengthened the moneyed connection of
that famous family. .
A sharp contrast was furnished to the
ornate \Yilson on (”'11 hing day.b_v a man
who should aceording to every prevalent
be a dandy. a spendti. ifl. and :x fop. lie
is none ofthcsa. “'iiiiam “Elsi-Hf Astor
Salon .‘Ir. Runsi'vrit's C melt. during the
great parade. with a loow and not par-
ticularly \\ cEl- ingcoaf w ruppe luround
his athletic figure, and his hat puillcd
110“ 11 over his eyes. llrre In a man who
made a brisk cm as as a politician,
M‘in'il well as Mu: :r to It :3. nxovleis
admirably in i IA). has \vr'ittrzi a 1: Mil
book. is now writiu.r a play. it. ling. ~ an
estate of two Ilillhlrr-l inixiiuu dollars
skiiffullysintl is the \irtxzal nal of what
undoubtedly ranks a» thi- fir-t family in
America. He is clever. brilliant. wrii—
barn. and has had evrry :I‘iV':i:l‘.:é:e that
boundless “‘i‘ullh would buy. Iil' can
lmx like a prufv'sriiltiul. has i-r xiol rhodi-
dcrs. and apparently it vvr thinks of his
attire. Ills father calls him "llzli." Un
every (“until that day. there in re prim.
tightly clad. suiwrcdious. 8:2'i over-
drv-sscd young men. sitting em! and
staring with :itl'ectcd inditlcrcz‘t' < at the
vulgar herd that snrg~d livloc them.
l’ntlonbicdly thry felt like aristm his. or
tried to. but they looked like a in of
tailors‘ clerks. 'l’lic u':iy iiititi anion:
them who was abs dutrly iuiiisz-r» n‘ to
his surroundings uni his posJion was
William Waldorf Astor.
Another sharp contrast 060th to rue—-
Mr. iifl~\\”uliI Luril ri. If any man
mu look at him without feeling an in~
stanzancons and aim is! overwlieltning
desire to yawn. hr must surwly have
slept well over in gin. .\l:. Loriliard
Sl't'llls to have but {no olaiurts in life—
one to sleep and the i-ilJ‘l" In in- re .s“ his
stock of English clothes. ilis t-yvs “ere
designed by Blozpln as. It i» a pisys'ial
impossibility. app-i'czxtly. to got the lids
more than one-righIh of an in~h aparn
and they Close by has ~11 of the laws of
gravitation. Mr. l.or.ilard‘s specialty is
in Consonancc with his physical \apabili-
tics. lie sleeps on top of a co .ch. in an
operabox. and in the windows of the
Kulckcrluwkcr t‘lub. lie is blase be-
yond all precedent. “in thin. colorless
face has never been disturbed by asmile,
and he drifts from we fash‘oiia‘iie assem-
bly to another. rep.) : smunol‘ntly in
at:
‘the corncrof his im gharn. He has
one w‘t‘illllpllsltlllt'fll‘ lizi\\i\_t"~‘:lr‘ is a
capital whip. To see him {retired on
the corner of the seat of a bi; inail~
cart. with a pair of seventwn-hand bays
thundering through a crowded park
while the driver is ustvzisiLnI-v asleep. is
one of the most Ifllt‘f'i‘nllll; sights at"-
forded in the surface view of New York.
I have known him to :21in by a light
road wagon. and nut one sloppy eye
down at the hub of his wheel with an
air of drowsy satisfu ti vii :is it skimmed
within a hair‘s brcaiil: of the hub of the
lighter Vehicle-
A millionaire who would prabablv he
described by the niagoriiy of natives u
the most popular man in New York is
Mr. t‘harics llclinoniro. Ilis~ w- :iith is
not suggested by his talk or cl divs. lie
is amiable. cheerful. knows (HITS one.
goes everywhere. dresses «pziriLy bit
with entire torrr‘ctDCs‘s. has a perfectly
appointed stibie. and seems to do the
proper thing by instinct. llc (hits in
every tongue. and intz-rcrests a visiting
nobleman as ucb as he does a local pol-
Illv‘liin.
The Earl of Loudan differs from Rich-
ard K. I-‘ox.of the Il-Iirr Ga.» :1. . in many
ways. The latter bought hi~ paper for a
hundred dollars. It is nor; the only
American journal that is r.~co_:uized by
the elite society of Cuba. Mexico and
South America. and it pays its owner
something like two hundred and fifty
thousand dollars a year. Mr. Fox is
fond of a good horse. and he has one
peculiarity that I have never seen illus—
trated in other nienuwlienever he
drinks a bottle of wine too much. he be~
comes the victim of an overpowering im—
pulse to give away all the money that he
can lay his hands on. He ,makes pra-
ents to everybody within reach. and, as
his credit is good. his lapses from grace
are apt to cost him a mall fortune. At
least, such was the case a year or two
ago. His habit became too e\haustive
even for his ample purse, and he has
since closed his eyes resolutely to the ac.
ductive glare of the wine when it is red.
Robert Garrett. of the Baltimore and
Ohio Road,would consider his ten million
dollars as nothing if he could not afford
a fresh business suit of tweed clothes
Pudgy and dum y
menu-e fond of sack-coats. It is the
irony of fate. Mr. Garrett, who looks
like a well~fed young produce merchant
in s frock—coat. insists upon wearing
the sack—coat of the festive clerk. and
looks like an exceedingly healthv and
rubicand young retail grocer, in alf the
glory of Sunday attire.
A Good “ford for Batter-ilk.
In warm, summer weather, many per- '
sons feel an irresistible craving forsome-
thing sour. and often gratify this desire
by a free indulgence in pickle and v
tables made acid with vinegar. This 0.
mud for acid indicates adcficieney in the
acid secretion: in the stomach, and the
demand for an artificial one is a natural
one; but vinegar is not the best substi-
tute‘ Lactic acid is one of the chic!
agents thahgive acidity to the gastric
juice of the stomach in health. This' is
the acid of Wmilk, ind Mono“
of the batsman!» diet, drinks that w.
couplets, buttermilk. It satisfies the
for acid. by ginng‘ the mach
'33:, “A...“ g...“
, a
of whole-um}; but. ' A man
all!!! ‘, nutter but.
Norwalk Chronicler