the st. paul sunday globe. januaky 15, · 2017-12-13 · the st. paul sunday globe. sunday, januaky...
TRANSCRIPT
THE ST. PAUL SUNDAY GLOBE. SUNDAY, JANUAKY 15, 1882
NIGHTFALL.
.' Liestill, Oheart!Crash out thy vainness and unreached desires,
Hart how the sunset-fires, .Which kindled all the west with red and gold,
Are slumbering 'neath tke amethystine clowCf the receding day, whose tale is told.
Stay, stay thy questioning; what would'st thouknow,
O ions heart?
Soft is the air;1,nd not a leaflet rustles to the ground
To break the calm around.'Creep, little wakeful heart, into thy nest;
The world is fullof flowers even yet,Close fast thy dewy eyes, and be at rest
Pour out thyplaint? at diy,ifthou nTtT?t fret;Day is for care.
'
Now,turn to God.1fightis too beautiful forus tocling' To selfish sorrowing.
(1memory! the grass is ever preenAbove thygrave; but we have brighter things
Than thou hast ever claimed or known,Iween.Day is for tears. At night,the soul hath wing*
To leave the sod.
The thought of night,That comes to us likebreath of primrose-time,
'
That comes like the sweet rhymeCifa pure thought expressed, lulls all our fears,
And stirs the angel that is inns—night,Which is a sermon to the soul that hears. .
Hush! for the heavens with starlets are alight.Thank God fornight!
Paris Cemeteries.Paris Cor. Home Journal.
The three principal cemeteries of Par-is are Pere Lachaise, at the east; Mont-martre, at the north, and Montparnasse,at the south. The indigent, who com-prise two-thirds of the population, arepuried gratuitously in common fosses.A temporary grave forone person costs$30, payable to the city treasury, and isgranted foronly ten years. The smallestpermanent grave, for a person over 7tears of age, costs $ICO~ of which §S0sire given to the city treasury and theremainder to the poor.
"Concession a perpetuite" is engravedirpon most of the monuments over per-manent graves. Allinterments at Parispre undertaken by a company author-izedby the city government, at fixedprices varying in their nine grades from:?3.75 to $1,436. The expenses of thechurch are defrayed by a collection at:iiefuneral. Two priests are attached to£rvch cemetery to render the last honors;to the poor. A short walk from thelAPlace de la Bastile" brings us to Pere
L*achaise, the most celebrated of thecemeteries, situated upon a fineelevatedspot?, commanding a magnificent view ofpie city.
Passing up the broad avenue from theentrance to the chapel on the brow ofjfche bill,we notice at our right the monu-inients erected to the memory of Arago,jthe astronomer; Auber, the composer;Consin, the writerand philosopher, andjLedru Rollin. At the leftare the tombsof Viscomte Rossini and Alfred de Mus-ket. The weeping willow which wasplanted over the grave ofde Musset, atpis request, died last winter. Thechapel is very beautiful, and contains(many works of art; it marks the spotformerly occupied by the residence ofPere Lachaise, the Jesuit priest, con-fessor of Louis XIV. The powerful So-ciety of Jesus was the next proprietor;the expulsion of this society in 1763caused ittochange owners several timesand itwas finallybought by the city in1804 for its present use. The 18,000monuments, mostly inthe formof tem-ples, give the cemetery the appearanceof a city of stone, hard'ancl cold, relievedonly by a few shaded avenues. Look-ing into one of these sepulchers whichvf§& in process of construction. Iun-derstood how so small a space could bethe burial place of a family. Ina deepexcavation, about four feet in widthandeight in length, walled with cement,there were at one side six shelves risingfrpm the bottom, destined for the lastresting of the sixmembers of the family*.B;is considered quite a la mode to enteriftPere Lachaise under tons of granite,fa&tthat whichmost pleased mo in thiscemetery was the burial place of theHbravest of the brave.
"Marshal Ney,
a large plot of ground on which a fe*wrtees bloom, and where there is not re-corded even the name of the hero, yetup visitorfails to see his grave. Thesarcophagus of the unfortunate lovers,Abelard and Heloise, constructed fromnjHrble from the ruins of the nunnery ofwhich Heloise was abbess, was profusely(fecorated. Their recumbent statues,fflSe by side, recall their sad history, andone can read there his ambition and hersfflf-sacrificing love. Beranger's monu-ment is tenderly cared for byhis cousin,11, Engelbauer, who each year, as All-Saintß' day approaches, freshens the giltletters which record the fame of theB&pular song-writer. Large crowdspressed around the graves of Corot, M.Thiers, and Lieut.-Gen. Hugo, father ofyictor Hugo, whichreminds me of theimpromptu lines written by the latter onttye shoulder blade of a skeleton in thestudy ofM.Roger de Beauvoir.
The Bohemian Girlat Home.Acorrespondent of the Philadelphia
Bulletin writing from Carlsbadcays: The Bohemian girl, as she ap-pears on her native soil, does not looka§ if she had ever dreamt of marble ballsas did the girl of the late Mr. BnKe's<Aera. She begins life swathed in aBsiff pillow to straighten and strengthenlirback. Soon after she begins towalkBhe takes lessons inbearing burdens onbe.r back, and by the time she reachesWoman-hood can carry a ten-gallon caskof water, or a huge basket filled withfire-wood or soiled clothes up a steepl^pi twenty or thirtytimes without stop-ping torest. Advancing in yews, shentay be bitched with a cow or*a big dogto pulla market wagon, driven by herbeloved and loving husband. If she isa. very good wife she may be advancedto the dignity of being the off-horse,Trtth a dog for a near one, to haul acdal-cart to a customer's door, and whenSlhe unhitches herself she carries in a
fnierthe rusty looking coal of this
atry up one, two or three pairs ofrs, whilethe man and dog repose in
street. It is thus that the nativeBohemian girl often fulfillsher destinyin this historic and chivalric land.Women is the drudge and the beast ofburden here, as inmany other parts ofthe Continent. There are fine horsesfsr driving heavy vehicles, and thereare donkeys that pull fat dowagers oriazy littleboys up the hills. But thereare" no equestrian displays, a ridinglArse is more rarely seen in Carlsbadtljan a pretty German woman, and yetthere are scores of cavaliers in cavalryUniforms and wearing spurs that ought
fbe pricking the sides of the bestooded steeds of the orient. But therenot much need of horses ina country
where women are the laborors, and thetreasure horse is an expensive luxury,
the sand business m Albany, .N. V.,amounts to quite an industry. Mold-ing sand is shipped in large quantitiesfrom that city to California. One manships about 25,000 tons yearly.
The Jewish population of Italyis notoyeTonetna thousand- but there areeifeht Jews in the ItalianParliament.
A Touching Story.
Calamity is the name of a man wholives at the gold camp of Cummins City.He has another name, but nobody seemsto know what it is. It has been tornoffthe wrappers someway, and so theboys callhim Calamity. He is a man ofsingular mind and eccentric construo-tion. The most noticeable featureabout Calamity is his superstitious dreadof muscular activity. Some people willnot tackle any kind of business enter-prise onFriday. Calamity is even morethe victimof vague superstition, and hasa dread of beginning work on any clayof the week, for fear that some disastershould befall him.
Last spring he had a little domestictrouble, and his wife made complaintsthat Calamity had worn out an old long-handled shovel on her, trying to con-vince her about some abstruse theory ofIris. The testimony seemed ratheragainst Calamity, and the miners toldliim that as soon as they got over therush a little,and had the 'leisure, theywould have tohang him. They hopedhe would take advantage of the hurry ofbusiness and go away, because they didnot want to hang him so early in theseason. But Calamity didnot go away.He stayed because itwas easier to staythan to go. He did not, of course, pinefor the notoriety of being the first manhung in the camp, but rather than pullup stakes and move away from a placewhere there are so many pleasant associ-ations, he concluded to stay and meetdeath calmly, inwhatever form itmightcome.
One evening, after the workof the daywas done and the boys had eaten theirsuppers, one of them suggested that itwouldbe a good time to hang Calamity.So they got things in shape and wentdown to the bigLaramie bridge. Calam-ity was with them. They got things allready for the exercises to begin, andthen asked the victimifhe had anythingto say.
He loosened the rope around his necka little withone hand so that he couldspeak withmore freedom, and holdinghis pantaloons with the oilier, said:
"Gentlemen of the convention, Icallyou to witness that this public demon-stration toward me is entirely unsoughton my part. Ihave never courted no-toriety. Plugging along incomparativeobscurity is good enough for me. Thisis the first timeIhave ever addressed anaudience. That is why Iam embar-rassed and illat ease. You have broughtme here tohang me because Iseemedharsh and severe with my wife. Youhave entered tile hallowed presence ofmy home-life, and assumed the preroga-tive of subverting my household desci-pline. Itis well. Idonot care to live,so long as my authority is questioned.Youhave already changed my submis-sive wife into an arrogant, self-reliantwoman. Yesterday Itoldher togo outand grease the wagon, and she straight-ened up to her fullheight and told meto go and grease it myself. Ihave al-ways been kind and thoughtful to her.When she had to go upinto the gulch inthe winter after firewood, my coatshielded her from the storm, whileIsatalone in the cabin, through the longhours. Icould name other instances ofunselfishness on my part, butIwillnottake your time. She uses my smokingtobacco, and kicks my vertebrae up intomy hat on the most unlooked for occa-sions. She does not love me any more,and lifeto me is only a hollow mockery.Death, with its wide waste of eternalcalm and its shoreless sea of rest, is aglad relief tome. Igo, but Ileave inyour midst a skittish and able-bodiedwoman, who willmake Rome howL Ibequeath her to this camp. She isyours, gentlemen. She is allIhave togive, but ingiving her to youIfeel thatmy untimely death willalways be lookedupon in this gulch as a dire calamity.The day willcome when you willlookback upon this awfulnight and wish thatIwas alive again, but itwillbe too late.Iwillbe far away. My soul will be ina land where domestic infelicity andcold feet can never enter. Bury me atthe footof Vinegar Hill,where the sage-hen and the fuzzy bumblebee may gam-bolo'er my lowlygrave."
When Calamity had finished, an im-promptu caucus was held. When itwasadjurned, Calamity went home to hiscabin to surprise his wife.
She has not yet fully recovered fromher surprise.
The Keason ofBirds.
Several years ago a pair of my canar-ies built; whilethe hen was sitting theweather became intensely hot. Shedrooped, and Ibegan to fear that shewould not be strong enough to hatchthe eggs. Iwatched the birds closely,and soon found that the cock was adevoted nurse. He bathed in the freshcold water Isupplied every morning,then went to the edge of the nest, andthe hen buried her head in his breast,and was refreshed. Without hands andwithout a sponge, what more could hehave done? The following spring thesame bird was hanging in a window withthree other canaries, each in a separatecage. Iwas sitting in the room andheard my littlefavorite give a peculiarcry. Ilooked up and saw all the birdscrouching on their perches, paralyzedwith fright. On going to the window toascertain the cause of their terrorIsawa large balloon passing along over theend of the street. The birds did notmove tillitwas out of sight, when theyall gave a chirp of relief. The balloonwas only insight of the bird who gavethe alarm, andIhave no doubt he mis-took it for a bird of prey. Ihave agreen and a yellow canary hanging sideby side. They are treated alike and arewarm friends. One has often refused topartake of some delicacy till the otherwas supplied with it. One day Ihadfive blossoms of dandelion; Igave threeto the green, twoto the yellow one. Thelatter flew about his cage, singing in ashrill voice, and showing unmistakablesigns of angel. Guessing the cause Itook away one of the three flowers, whenboth birds settled down quietly to enjoytheir feast
Bfg- Things.The largest deposits of anthracite coal
in the worldare inPennsylvania.The greatest river inthe worldis the
Mississippi, whichis 4,100 miles long.The largest lake inthe world isLake
Superior, being 430miles long and 1,000feet deep.
The largest valley inthe worldis theValley of the Mississippi. Itcontains500,000 square miles.
The greatest cave in the worldis theMamiDoth cave in Kentucky, whichcontains a navigable lake abounding ineyeless fish.'
The greatest mass of solid iron intheworldis the great Iron mountain inMis-souri. It is 350 feet high and two milesin circuit.
The greatest cataract in the worldJsthe Falls of Niagara, whichplunges overthe rocks in two columns to the depthof170 feet each.
The greatest natural bridge intheworldis the natural bridge over Cedarcreek in Virginia. It extends across achasm eighty feet inwidth and 250 feetin depth.
The Green Fisherman.Sam Davis, of the Carson, (Nev.) Ap-
peal, tells the following, which thoughfunny, is very true. Those who havedone'much fishing have often seen thegreen fisherman.
On /Sunday last there was about a doz-en of Carson's crack fishermen at theMexican dam. Mr. Gilligan and GusLewis headed the crowd. There aremany persons who fish at the dam whonever think of casting their lines with-out first getting the opinion ofLewisand Gilliganas to the best locality. OnSunday, jnst as the two experts weregetting ready to fish, an old wagon droveup, containing an old iarmer and hisfamily. He tied his horses to a tree, andthen pulling out a crooked hickory pole,proceeded to tie a line to the end.
"Wonder ifthe old coon is going tocome here and scare allthe fish away Lysplashing water?" said Lewis.
"Ifhe does onr sport is all gone forto-day,
"said Gilligan.
Suddenly an idea struck Gilligan; hetoldLewis he would get the man an-chored near some stagnant pool where atrout wouldnever think of coming, andthus keep him away from the goodplaces. The man was just getting histackle in shape as Gilligan strolled slow-ly up.
"Going to try yer luck?""Thought Iwould.""Ever fish much?""Back in the States about twelve
years ago, for bull-heads, suckers andsuch.
""Youcan't catch anything with that
pole; where is your reel?""Never use 'em;Ijest yank 'em right
over my head."
"Yourhook is big for the season.""AllIgot."Galligan hated to see a man fish with
such poor tackle, and offered nim somehooks and leaders; but the old fellowsaid he wouldbe sure tobust them, andhe would rather use old tackle he wasused to. He tied a nail to the line andthen got out a box of worms.
"Youcan't use worms here, on a daylike this you must use a brown hacklefly with a littlered on the body," saidGalligan.
"Don'tgo much on your new-fangledflies. Worms is my best hold."
"That is not a bad place," pointing toa spot where there was not a ripple orany sign of current.
"Jest the placeIwas going to tackle,"said the man.
Gilligan went down ant toldLewis hehad got the old fellow fixed where hewouldnot get a bite insixmonths.
"It amuses me to see those greenfishermen bring their old-fashioned linesand hickory poles, and fool away theirtime expecting to catch fish. Thunder!Ifhe hasn't landed one a footlong!" ex-claimed Lewis.
Sure enough, he had his fish on thebank, and it was a two-pounder. Pro-bably he would not happen to do thatagain insix months.
The two experts continued to fish,wondering how a trout ever strayed intosuch water, and in about five minutesanother trout described a half circle overthe old man's head.
He threw the fish on the bank abovehim, and his wife took it off the lineand baited the hook, and then he justslammed the tackle into the water as ifhe was threshing wheat. He kept thisup for a couple of hours, and when hewound up his line he had thirteen finetrout, whilethe others had failed to geta nibble.
"You were right about that place,stranger," he said to Gilligan. "Ihavegot some worms left, if you think youneed them. How've you been gettin'along up here?"
"We ain't after trout," said Lewis,"we are ju3t catching minnows to baitwiththis evening."
The Ambitious Lover."I am very rich, my darling," she
said softly, punctuating her sentenceswith soft, warm kisses. "Already Ihave $100,000 worthof 4 per cents reg-istered inmyname, and when the leavesare turning red in the golden Octoberdays and the fields are laughing in therich abundance of a bountiful harvest, Ishall cut; off the coupons. And whenpapa dies he willleave me nearly $200,--000 more. Yes, my sweetheart, lam avery happy girl," and a fair young headnestled confidingly on the shoulder ofthe strong limbed, hazel-eyed youngman to whom this avowal was made.He looked tenderly down at the browntreeses and the invisible net that boundthem to the fair forehead. Gently lift-ing the beautiful face tohis, he presseda passionate kiss on the full, red lipsthat seemed only made for osculation.
Turning his head away, Herbert Ains-leigh appeared for a moment to bewrapped inthought. Then,kissing Mir-iam witharich, warm, two-for-a-quarterkiss, he said : "Do you love me,Birdie ?"
She gave answer by placing her soft,white arms around his neck, and throw-ing herself madly on his shirt front.
"Do not hug so hard, darling, 'anyou love me, ormy collar-stud willraisea carbuncle on the back of my necJj,"he said inlow,mellow tones."
Itis only the deep, passionate long-ing of my love, Herbert. It recks notof carbuncles. But you are right. Toomuch pressure on the cervical vertebrawillcause an exostosis. My Professorof Anatomy toldme that.""
And we willbe married in the fall,my sweet?"
"Yes, Hejbert, inthe rich,hazy, sens-uous days ofIndian summer, when thelownote ofthe farmer's boy seeking thelost cow is heard as he sits on the vine-embowered stile and blasphemes until
must take all my money, Herbert ; itmust be yours to do as you willwithit;to attain glorious fame that awaits you,forIknow thatmylove's name willsomeday be known through the length andbreadth ofthe land. Surely, you havean ambition?""Ihave," said Herbert, Mssing her
whileshe caught her breath."Andyou willnot let any false pride
stand in the way of using my moneyto attain the height you fain wouldreach ?"
"No,darling,Iwillnot. You sayyou have $100,000 iv4 per cents. It isenough. To-morrowIwillact, and inless thana daymyname willbeas familiarthroughout the world as that of En-gland's proud Queen.""
Oh, Herbert, what willyou do ?""Ishall purchase Maud S."
Two minutes later ahuman form fellwitha dullthud on the frontporch ofthe haughty pork-packer's residence.It was Herbert Ainsleigh. The oldman had fired him out.
—Chicago Trib-
une."Yourmeal is ready, sir," said the
waiter, toHayseed, just from the ruraldistricts. "Meal!"exclaimed Hayseed,contemptiously. "Do yer think I'm ahoss? Get me some corned beef andcabbage, young man."
When a married woman buys a pugdog for a price, she gets a bargain, anoher Husband gets something toboot
Briggs' Centenarian.[Exchange.]
The usual crowd was down in thestore the other evening, when the con-versation turned on old men, Squire Pit-kins saying that he knew an old man,aged ninety-five, who had recentlywalked eight miles in the burning sun topurchase a hobby-horse.
This brought Briggs to his feet. Heslowlyrolled around the cud of tobaccoinhis mouth, and remarked:
"That 'ere mau of yours, Pitkins, wasa ragged old slouch, a no-account nig-ger, compared to an old rooster that Iknow."
"What about your friend?" inquiredPitkins.
"Wouldn't you think that a venerable,gray-haired oldman who can skip ropefor two hours, at the age of one hundredand seventeen, and not feel tired,is some-thing remarkable?"
"Yes." /"And when the same individualdraws
his wife and daughter ina hand-cart toto the circus, four miles distant, andthen wins five dollars by riding the trickmule, don't you admire him?"
"Of course.""And when you continue to hear that
he ploughed a ten acre lot yesterday,and after he got through played leap-frog allthe evening for relaxation, doesnot your admiration fade into venera-tion?"
Pitkins said that he guessed so, andthen asked the name of the gay and fes-tive oldgentleman.
"Knott,"replied Briggs, warming upto his subject AbijahKnott, and a toughknot he is. Now, gentlemen, maybeyou'llthink I'm lying when Itell youthat he attributes the longness of hislife to his always smoking seventeencigars a day, and never forgetting towash the back of his neck. In fact, Inever saw such a livelyoldpotato bug.We had a ball a week or so ago, and hewas there, every time. Danced all thetime, played the fiddle for the Virginareel, helped get supper ready, and sang*AuldLang Syne' like a lark, cominghome inthe morning.
"He's got an amazhigj. muscle for aman ofhis age too. What do you thinkof carrying a piano up four pairs ofstairs and lowering a Herring's safe outofthe window.
"Besides he likes his fun, the oldmandoes. He went down to a wrestlingmatch the other night, threw thechampion ofthe United State over hishead and won the belt. And, come tothink, have any ofyou noticed that gor-geous vest he wears?"
Briggs waited for a moment, but asnobody seemed tohave noticed ithe con-tinued:
"Well, he got that as first prize forclimbing the greased pole at the statefair. Itmade quite a talk at the time,and one of the Yorkpicture papers hadan illustrationof him, as he appeared atthe top of the pole, waving his vest intriumpth, and scraping the grease fromhis Sunday pantaloons."
"Is—
is Mr. Knott married?" feeblyinquired a timid-hearted auditor.
"Muchly," sententiously repliedBriggs. "He had six wives, and itlookssimply beautiful to see how nice he keepstheir graves. Got a big sunflower atthe head of each, and weepin' wilierplanted square inthe middle.
"Buthe ain't a going to join themyet. Not much. He is on the lookoutfor material tomake a seventh funeral,and itwoulddo your heart good to viewthe old feller's rigout. He's parted hiswiginthe center, got his false teethpatched up, and wears kaleidescopestockings withlow-necked shoes. Tellyou what, he runs the young men close.
"Buthe never allows pleasure to in-terfere with business. The very dayafter his third mother-in-law's' funeralhe went right to work and dug up overtwo thousand hills of potatoes, just as ifnothing had happened."
"Didhe know any of our' Revolution-ary heroes?" asked Squire Pitkin.
""Didhe? Youbet! Played tag withGeorge Washington, hooked apples withTommy Jefferson, and he told me him-self how he and Miles Standish lamedold Powhattan by hitting him with abrick whileplaying "Duck on a Bock."
"That centenarian of yours," inter-rupted Baldwick, "is an unblushing oldliar. Admitting that he is one hundredand seventeen, how could he knowMilesStandish?"
"Bygum!" cried Briggs, "that's so!"Andthen he retired to the darkest cor-ner of the store, and kicked himself allthe evening for not being able to tell astory straight.
Ruskin's Advice to Young Ladies.Inorder to investigate one's self it is
well to findout what one is now. Don'tthink vaguely about it. Take pen andpaper and write down as accurate adescription ofyourself as is possible, and,ifyou dare not, findout why you darenot, and try to get strength of heartenough to "look yourself in the face,mind as wellas body. Alwayshave twomirrors onyour dressing-table, and withproper care dress mind and body at thesame time. Put your best intelligence
1tofinding out what youare g®od for andwhat you can be made into. The mereresoive not tobe useless, and the honestdesire to help other people, willin thequickest and most delicate way improveone's self. Allaccomplishments shouldbe considered as means of assistingothers.
Inmusic get the voice disciplined anaclear, and think only of accuracy; ex-pression and effectwilltake care of them-selves. So indrawing, learn toset downthe right shape of anything, and there-by explain its character to another per-son; but ifyou tryonly to make showydrawings for praise; or pretty ones foramusement, your drawings willhave lit-tle or no intrest for others, and no edu-cational power.
Eesolve to do each day somethinguseful inthe vulgar sense. Learn theeconomy of the kitchen, the good andbad qualities ofevery common article offood, and the simplest and best modesoftheir preparation. One should at theend of every day be able tosay as proud-lyas any peasant that she has not eatenof the bread of idleness.
Get quitofthe absurd idea that heavenwillinterfere to correct great errors,while allowingits laws to take its owncourse inpunishing small ones. Iffoodis carelessly prepared .no one expectsprovidence to make itpalatable; neitherifthrough years of folly you mJ3guideyour own life,raay yoa expect divine in-terference tobring around everything atlast for the best. Itell you positvelythe world is not bo constituted. Theconsequences ofgreat mistakes are justas sure as those of small ones; and thehappiness of your whole life, and of allthe lives over which you have power,depends as literallyupon your commonsense and discretion as does the excel-lence and order ofday.
Perhaps the fact that over 150,000pounds of opium are used annually bysmokers and eaters inthis country mayhave something to do with the rapid in-crease of insanity.
Carrying Pare Airin a Knapsack.Successful experiments have been
carried on byMr. Warrington Smythe,at the New Seaham Colliery, near New-castle, England, with what is termedthe Fleuss breathing apparatus. Theimportance of this invention will atonce be apparent to those who are inany way acquainted with the risks fromsuffocation run by firemen and tiloseemployed under ground, where poison-ous fumes are so liable to break forthand suffocate those who may be subjectto them. With the .aid of the Fleussmachine men can work without dangerunder all these inimicalconditions. .
The apparatus has the size and shapeof a soldier's knapsack, its principal por-tionbeing a case of sheet copper, twelveinches long, twelve inches wide, and twoand a half inches deep. The case is in-ternally divided into four longitudinalcompartments, fitted up so as to securethe complete circulation through themof the air that has been robbed of itsoxygen by passage through the lungs.Each compartment is fitted with smallcubes of India rubber sponge, coatedwithspeciallyprepared caustic soda. Theair that passes from the lungs of theman fitted with the apparatus passesthrough one side of a mouthpiece anddown the corresponding short length ofpipe over his left shoulder to the firstcompartment of the case. There it goesthrough a finely-balanced valve, whichgives way to the softest breath passingfrom the mouth, but is immovable toanything from the inside of the case.The partition of the first compartmentfitsclosely up to the top ofthe case, butis about one inch open at the bottom.This arrangement thus permits the re-spired air to pass down the firstchamber and to enter the secondat the bottom. Here it circu-lates to the top, where an inchopening in the next partition gives itpassage into tho third compartment,whichitdescends, to finda similarout-let at the bottbm;into the fourth cham-ber. Rising to the head of this com-partment, the air thus purified from thedeleterious matter that it has carriedfrom the lungs passes through a valveinto a pipe laid over the right shoulderof the operator. Oxygen is added bymeans of a small pipe that runs fromthe cylinder at the bottom of the case,and finds its opening close to the junc-tionof the clean air-pipe and the beforementioned India-rubber bag. This lat-ter performs the part of a reservoir ofpure and properly oxygenated air, andby itspresence the act of breathing isrendered easy and natural. Infact, theonly limitto the space of time duringwhich the apparatus enables the man tomove about inthe midst of poisonousgases is the capacity of the oxygen cylin-der and the individual's physical abilityto carry the copper knapsack about withhim. The capacity of the cylinders atpresent in use is one-fourth of a cubicfoot, and as the oxygen is pumped inunder pressure of sixteen atmospheres,they hold four cubic feet of gas. Thesupply, which can be regulated throughthe medium of a valve, is calculated tolast fora four hours' shift of work, al-though no man employed under suchconditions of danger as require its use iskept at labor more than three hours.
Anessential portion ofthe apparatusis the mask, to which is attached amouthpiece screwed on one side to thepure-air pipe and India-rubber bag, andon the other to the pipe conveying theexpired air back to the compartment inthe knapsack case
—Rubber Era.
The Repoblic of France.Since 1792, French history has been
the history of a people ina state of po-liticaltransition. The first republic, socalled, covering the period from 1792 to1804, comprised three distinct forms ofGovernment. The "convention" en-dured for three years; the
"directory
"for four years, and the "consulate" forfour. In1804, Consul Bonaparte set upas Emperor, and the empire endured,after a fashion, for a dozen years. Thenthe Bourbon restoration covered the pe-riodfrom 1814 to1830, when the Orleansdynasty began, and lasted eighteenyears. The period of forty-four yearsbetween the first and the second repub-lican experiment witnessed three revolu-tions of the French constitution. Thesecond "republic" lasted only fouryears, and. like the first, ended in theusurpation of absolute power by the re-publican executive
—inboth cases a Bo-
naparte. The second Napoleonic em-pire had the same duration as the Or-ieans regime^
—eighteen years. The de-
feat of Louis Napoleon, in 1870,brought in the third republican experi-ment, which was prefaced for a year bythe so-called
"Government of the na-
tional defense." The present constitu-tionofFrance bears date Feb. 25, 1875,the time of its formal promulgation,though the republic of which it is theorganic lawreallybegan with the Presi-dency of M.Thiers in1871. It has ex-isted ten years, nearly as long as boththe previous republican experiments.
Inits most essentail arrangements,the French constitution is modeled up-on the English and the American. Theprincipal American features are a repre-sentative assembly chosen by "man-hood
"suffrage, and an elective chief
magistrate. The principal Englishfeatures are the movability of the elec-tions, requirement that every act ofthePresident shall be countersigned by aMinister, responsibility of the Cabinet tothe representative chamber, and powerin the President (the Senate concurring)to dissolve that chamber. The
"Presi-
dential term"
is seven years, buti3not,as in this country, arbitrarily fixed anddated as to its beginning and ending.Whenever and however a vacancy oc-curs in the Presidency, itis filledby anelection (by the two legislative cham-bers) of an incumbent for seven years.The absurd American superfluity calledthe VicePresident, seen tobe an appen-dage neither useful nor ornamental, haswiselybeen omitted.
The legal "term" for which repre-sentatives are chosen is four years ;buta dissolution of the chamber would ab-breviate it,and the new chamber, chosenafter dissolution, would be chosen for aterm of four years, beginning at thedate of its election.
—Chicago Times.
The Two Sexes.Thero is nearly always something of
nature's own gentility inall young wom-en, oxeapt, indeed, when they get . to-gether and fall a giggling. It shaffiesus men to see howmuch sooner they arepolif.hed into conventional shape thancur rough masculine angels. An un-couth boy requires, heaven knows whatassiduity, to move three steps, we donot say like a gentleman, but likea boywith a soul inhim • but give the leastadvantage of society or tuition to apeasant girl, and a hundred to one butshe willglide into refinement before theboy can make a bow withoutupsettingthe table. There is sentiment in allwomen ; and that gives delicacy tothought and taste to manner ; withmenitis generally acquired ; an offspring ofthe intellectual quality; not, as withthe other sex, of the moral.
Abont Sneezing.bneezing and the manner inwhich the
sneeze is sneezed is an interesting; studyinitself. No two people sneeze alike,A two months' study of this spasmodicpractice has fully demonstrated tbe factthat there is asmuch individualityin thesneeze of the average man or wonan asthere is inthe laugh, the conversation,the walk or the nandwriting. Somemen and women sneeze as though theeffort caused them intense pain, whileothers seem to enjoy the titillating sen-sation inthe nostrils and enter iito thespirit of the act with pleasure d jpictedupon every lineament of their features.
The littleboarding-school mits tripejauntilyalong the street and inlurningto note ifshe is attracting due attentionhappens toinadvertently look at tie sun.Ina moment her nostrils begin to tickle,and, burying her face in the foldf. of theneatest of cambric hankerehie :'s, shecontracts her shoulders and give iutter-ance to the daintiest
"skick-skick-Bkick"
imaginable.The fat woman witha basket upon her
arm—
the one you cAi always mt et within the market house
—halts suddenly
upon the street, bows her head rever-ently, remains so for a few minutes inwildexpectation and then, straighteningup a little, inhales tne air vi.til sheswells up likea balloon, then
"ah-h-h-
-choooooo ! ah-h-h-hschoooo !at -ah-ah-skitch-tschooo !oh my!"' and rabblesalong wiping her inflamed nose- on herapron.
The dapper little1 clerk walks brisklyalong the street wondering if tiisnewclothes fithim as he hopes they do, andwhen the unfailing symptoms tell himthat he must sneeze he turns his headover his shoulder, and without tlackinghis pace gives vent to several short,sharp
"woosh "-es, and flies aleng as if
nothing had happened.The tall,cadaverous man, whose every
look indicates the presence of consump-tion, stops short on the sidewalk, ner-vously runs his hands intohalf a dozenpockets before he can find his handker-chief, throws his head backward untilhis nose points at the CityHa J clock,and electrifies all withinhearing with aspasmodic
"witchoo-witchoo--nitcho-o-
o-o-o-wi-wi-witcho-o-o-o-o—
(larnthe-
luck!" then gives his peaked nasal or-gan a swipe or two and moves jainfullyalong.
Two neat littledaughters of fashiontrip along the avenue, confiding to eachother their bits of choice scanckJ, whenone of them says :
"Oh, dear! Jennie, Ibelieve I'mgoing to sneeze !"
"Oh, please don't," cries the other inhorror. "It wii] be awful to sneezeright here on the street! Ctn't youholdit?"
"Oh I—I—must. Indeed I—sck—
indeedIca—
can't hel—schick— -help it.
Imu—
niu—sck
—must
—ah—
ah—
scheetah
—ah
—oh dear !ah—
ooh—h—
h—h—
ah—
scheet—
chick—
ah—
oh—
! Jennie ! ah—ah— schloo
—oo
—oot
—ah
—s ihloot!"
And then she wipes her pet rlynoseand trips along with tears inher eyesand tells Jennie it's just too awr'ully aw-ful for any use and she does aope no-body saw her.
The sedate matron goes at out hersneezing in a matter-of-fact ws.y. Shesimply stops, bows her head aad givesutterance to a few well-ddveloped"
achoo's"
and moves along not caring acontinental who was observing her.
The nervous man stops whilea look ofpain crosses his face, draws two or threelong breaths to hurry the thii.g along,then doubles himself up as ifendeavor-ing to shoulder the heaviest portion ofhis body, twists his face out of allsem-blace of a human being and s:iorts outhis
''kroo-whah-kroo-whah-l oosh-ah-
kroo-whah-whah-oh Lord!"
aid leavesthe spot wearing a look of the :nost dis-consolate pain.
Itdoes one good tosee the jollyfatman sneeze. He throws back his mas-sive shoulders, opens his cavernousmouth to its fullestcapacity, sl.uts botheyes and fairly raises tne dead with"
ah-stfioooo I ah-scHOOOo ! ah-ah-SCHOOOO! whoopee! woosh-al
-schoooo
•wagh-hooo-physchoooo ! Lordy, butthat was a good 'un!
"There are a thousand and one other
styles of accomplished sneezing, and itwillrepay any one to note tt c varietyand style of the various sneezers to bemet with daily upon the streets. —M.Quad.
Host and <*uost in England.
The universal deference psrid to aman's right tohimself inEngland makesduties as wellas social pleasure jfar lessonerous than they are with us. InAmerica the relation of host tnd guesti3a double slavery. The host has thecom-ort and amusement of his guest sopainfully at heart that he often becomeshis officious slave for the time being,whilethe guest, unable torefuse ais host'scontinual and pressing offers of indis-criminate kindness, becomes in turn theslave to his host's notions oi amuse-ment. He has either to blindlyfollowout his host's programme, or has torack his own brain to furnish Ihe latterwith opportunities to show him atten-tion. The typical American er tertainercannot leave his guest alone ;with thevery best and most friendly intentionsin the world, he begins by imploringhim to "make himself thorc ughly athome," and immediately proceeds tomake his house as little lise homeas lies within human power.
"What
world you like to do to-cay?" or"Would you not like to, etc. etc., to-day ?" are the standard break fast- tablequestions. In Englandjhosts let theirguests do just what they please. Goto spend a week in an Englishman'shouse and you may be sure jour hostwillnot put himself out for y)uin theleast, unless you expressly desire it.Everything in the house go«J8 on asusual, just as if you were not there.But, per contra, the house and all thatis init are practically yours while youstay within its walls. Your host putshis servants, his wine cellar, hia larder,often his horses and bis game preserves,absolutely at your disposal. "Sou are atliberty to act, and are expected to act,precisely as if you were in your ownhouse. You can order a san hvich, abowl of broth, a glass of wine or spiritswhenever you please ;you can i.nnounceyour intention of going off shooting thevery morning after your arrival, andguns and dogs are waiting for iyou. Itis tilecommonest occurrence ior men,arriving in the afternoon at a friend'shouse, to send their dress suite down tothe laundress to be pressed before din-ner. InEngland guests are not onlytold to "make themselves ai home,"bu*are actually allowed to do io.
—Bos-
ton Transcript.
An Impassable Distance.Mr.Quincy says that youn% people
revered Charming, but the disi ance be-tween them was impassable. One dayon a fishing excursion he frigitoned atimid girl into awestruck silence byasking her :"Do these waves look toyou as ifthey were moved by tie wind,or as ifeach wave were propelled by theimpulse itreceives from the on3 follow-ingit?"
"
THE SWEET BY.ASD-BY.A Talk With tbe Composer of tbe
Beautiful Hymn.
Dr. S. Fillmore Bennett, a practicingphysician of Richmond, 111., a smalltown southeast of Lake Geneva, wasvisited and conversed withby a ChicagoNews reporter with reference to theauthorship of the words and music ofthat remarkably popular Christian hymncalled "The Sweet By-and-By." Dr.Bennett is 45 years old, and the fatherof a considerable family, including a sonwho is a recent graduate of Rush Medi-cal College. In stature the doctor isof medium height, and quite spare.He is thin-visaged, wears a thin mus-tache and goatee, and is of a not verylight complexion. He has a lock ofhair, slightly gray, overhanging hisbrow, which gives him the look of aperson with the poetical f ulty. Inhis conversation he is clear, practical,serious and positive. He said :"
The story of the origin of the hymn,'The Sweet By-and-By,' is a short oneand soon told. From 1861 to1871Ire-
sided inElkhart, Wis., whereIkept anapothecary store. And during that pe-riod was associated withJoseph P. Web-ster, a music teacher, in the productionof musical works,Icomposing the words,and he the music. Our first publicationwas the 'Signet Ring,' our second, 'TheBeatitudes,' our third, '
The Sunday-School Cantata,' and our fourth and last,'The Great Rebellion.' Itwas in thefallof 1874, when we were at work on'The Signet Ring,' that we composed'The Sweet By-and-By.' It was com-posed forthat work, and published firstin it. And thif was the way we hap-pened to compose it. Webster was anextremely sensitive and melancholy man,and very prone to think that others hadslighted ~him f He was always imaginingthat some old friend had spoken to himcoollyand then dropping intobottomlessdespondency about it untilsome casualmeeting afterward dispelled the illusion.After whileIunderstood this weaknessso wellthatIknew howto take it,and itgave me no trouble at all. On the contra-ry,Iused to aid himingetting over thosespells', generally byputting him to work,which, Ilearned by experience, wassure to relieve him. So one day in thefall of1874—1 could give you the day ifIhad the copyright here
—Iwas stand-ing at my desk inmy drug store writingup my books, when in came Webster,looking uncommonly blue. Iknew at aglance what ailed him, but said to him,pleasantly,
'Webster, whatis the matter
with you?' 'Ah,' he said, 'nothingmuch. Itwillbe ail right by-and-inr?'That is so,' Isaid, 'and T.iiat ut thereason that wouldn't be a good subjectfor a song
—By-and-by ?'
With that, Isnatched up a piece of paper and wentto writing, and within fiftten minutesIhanded him the paper with these wordsvritten on it:"
There's a land thit is fairer than day,And by faith wemay see itafar,
And the Father stands over the way,Toprepare us a dwellingplace there.
"We shall sing, on that beautiful shore,The melodious songs of the blest,
And onr spirits shall sorrow no more,Not a sigh for the blessing of rest !
"Toour bountiful Father aboveWe willoffer the tribute of praise ;
For tbe glorious gift of His love,And the blessing-* that hai.'ow our days.
"'There,' Isaid, 'write a tune forthat.' Webster looked itover, and thenturned to a man named Bright, in thestore, and said:
'Hand me my fiddle
over the counter, please.' The fiddlewas passed to him, and he went to workat once tomake a tune. And Ihardlythink it was more than thirty minutesfrom the time when he came into thestore that he andIwere singing togeth-er the words and music just as you seethem here, on the ninetieth page of'The Signet Ring.' We liked themvery much, and were singing our song,offand on, the rest of the day. Towardevening, Uncle Crosby, as we used tocall him, my wife's uncle, came into thestore and we sang it to him. He wasdeeply affected by it,and when it wasended the spirit of prophecy came overhim, and he said, 'That piece is immor-tal.' Andhe was right."
Aunt Susan's Suggestions to a FretfulWife.
"Hester;" exclaimed Aunt Susan,ceasing her rocking and knitting, andsitting unpright. "Do you know whatyour husband will do when you aredead?""
What doyou mean ?" was the start-ledreply."
He willmarry the sweetest- temperedgirlhe can find.""Oh, auntie !"Hester began.
"Don't interrupt me until I've fin-ished," said Aunt Susan, leaning backand takingup her knitting.
"She may
not be as good a housekeeper as youare ;infact,Ithinknot, but she willbe good-natured. She may not even love him aswellas you do, but she willbe good-na-tured." #"Why, auntie
—""
That isn't all," continued Aunt Su-san. "Every day you liveyouare mak-ing your husband more and mor£ inlove with that good-natured woman, whomay take your place some day. AfterMr. and Mrs. Harrison left you theother night, the only remark he madoabout them was :
'She is a sweet wom-
an.'""Oh, auntie
—""That isn't all," composedly contin-
ued Aunt Susan. "To-day your hus-band was half way across the kitchenfloor, bringing you the first ripe peach-es, and all you did was to look on andsay :
•There, Will, just see your trackson my clean floor!Iwon't have myfloorall tracked up.' Some men wouldhave thrown the peaches out of the win-dow. To-day you screwed up your facewhen he kissed you, because bis mus-tache was damp, and said,
'Inever want
you to kiss me again.'
When he emptiesanything you tell him not to spill ii;when he liftsanything you tellhimnotto break it. From morning unlilnightyour sharp voice is heard complainingand fault-finding. And last winter,when you were sick, you scolded himabout his allowing the pump to freeze,and took nonotice when he said. '
Iwas.so anxious about you that Idid notthink of the pump.'*""But,auntie—""
Hearken, child. The strongest andmost intelligent of them all care morefor a woman's tenderness than for any-thing else inthe world, and without thisthe cleverest and most perfecr house-keeper is sure to lose her husband'sv af-fection intime. There may be a fewmore men like Will
—as gentle, as lov-
ing, as chivalrous, as forgetful of self,and so satisfied with loving that theiraffections willdie a long, strugglingdeath ;but inmost cases it takes but afew years of fretfulness and fault-findingto turn a husband's love into irritatedindifference.
"But, auntie—""Yes, wellIyouare not dead yet, and
that sweet-natured woman has not beenfound: so yon have time to be-come so serene and sweet that your hus-band can never imagine that there is abetter-tempered votnan inexistence."