*

CAPE MAY HERALD. jfcN INDKPENOENT WEEKLY. Publlsned Every Satarday Moraine at 506 Waabineton Street, Cape May, N. J.

U. L SCULL. • PlMskv ill Pnprliiir.

SUBSCRIPTION: One Dollar Per Year In Advance.

Entered at the pd*t office at Capa May, M. J., aa eecond-oleu matter, March 11th, 1901.

Persistence brings auccess. -Nodoubt some town will eventually get up an exposition that pays expense*. The United States by paying off Us own debts and lending money to Europe makes it plain that prosperity n; a national proposition is no myth.

Justice might do better service in some parts of the United States if the bandage were removed from her eyes and a modern weapon Hubstltu** ed for the Roman sword.

The sate rule to guard against malaria is to slap at every mosquito that comes along, withont waiting to determine whether it is an anopheles or a culex. There is as yet no society for the protection of the common punctnrer.

— A new tneory concerning the .in-, crease of appendicitis attributes it to worms or microhee swallowed by the patient when eating raw fruit. Old school physicians and surgeons sling, however, to the opinion that moot of the alleged cases are fictitious and the product of Imaginative young practitioners who desire an opportunity to display a little surgical skill at the expense of the patient. The unveiling of the monument to Commodore Perry at Kurihama. Japan. recalls the fact that in 1853 the people of thaf Island were hardly superior to the Chinese, and certainly not loss exclusive. By opening their ports to commerce at the Instance of the United States and by welcoming the advances of civilization the Japanese have devloped into a great eastern power which must be consulted in relation to all international questions affecting the nations that border on the Pacific. Not only commerce. but education, industries and social customs have been influenced by the contact with the white racec which was made imperative by the landing of Commodore Perry. Japan has every cause to make that occasion memorable.

According to the Baltimore Sun a man need not be a scholar to be an inventor. One of the most succcssfnl aeronauts of old times who had mide a study of aerial currents and the management of -balloons, once delivered an address in which he referred to the "anaconda" as "the largest birl that ever flew." and he also remarked that “the mental'faculties of a man's mind is so constructed as to bring things down to a pin's pint." He also referred to the cun'ents of air as siretchums, meaning . strata, and yet he waa^onwof the foremost lialloonists | of his time. He was an Inventor also 1 of many useful things, and was the ■first man in the country to suggest to j ironclad man of war with slanting ■Idea He built _a miniature vessel on this plan of, s§ket iron, placed It In the water and fired musket balls at it at Abort range. Every hall glanced off. The Merrimac was built on a similar plan, and from that humble beginning the evolution or revolution in naval architecture took its siart.

The exhaustion of the world's coal deposits would not create the alarm that Englishmen felt some years ago ^wben a statistician announced the date when the working of the coal mines would be difficult and costly. There is a belief In Texas that the supply of fuel oil which was recently. • discovered In that state Is virtually without limit, and it Is affirmed that the Texan product has many anti great advantages over coal. Including cheapness. It la found that there II still another substitute for cosl"masut," or German brown coal U the heat producing quality of which Is said to be one-fourth greater than that of ordinary coai. Masut will alao produce steam in leis Ume than Ip required lu the caae of coal Coal tar Hs been almost as surprising aa the cotton plant In the matter of its adaptability to many uses. A number of the most efficacious of modern rtoedies have been extracted from . coal tar—among them some which are used in the treatment of dlseasea

of the nirvoua system.

CHAPTER L t Is quite, quite impossible to let out another lacb; she must hare a new skirt. Miss Pincbam." My mother knelt on the floor of our little sittfbg-room. The green cloth had been removed from our table, which was strewn with scissors, cotton, tape and snips. On a square piece of drugget, put n by our landlady. Mrs. I.lpscombe, to the cartiet, 1 stood, undergoing the agonies of being “tried on.” ' 1 was wondering whether it could be In any way connected with a letter which mother had received a day or two previouslyy—a letter which I bad seen her take out and read several times since. I had not seen her answer it yet—mother so seldsm wrote a letter that I should have tn certain to notice It. Altogether was uriled. The letter. I believed, coneesq1 me in some way: else, why this nett

•ock?

Poor, darling mother! As she rose •onj the floor and arranged her widow's cap a: the glass. I thought how.sweet was her pale, lined face. To me it wns ail so natural. our_jaohiJtonoua life together at ShipIey-le-Srtrsh. that I never

knew what she suffered.

Mother was the eldest daughter of Matthew Cnrewe. a mill-owner, rolling in money. He bonght Gray Asbtead. a beautiful estate some fifteen miles from

She's growing, Emmeline! I di how yon keep her in frocks.” "It Is difficult." said- motbr

near, and watrhlng with a smile of pleasure ns I dived into a basket of Gray Athtead strawberries. "And that reminds

Rosalie, I have been waiting most rly for your visit tit-day, to consul}

eagerly for your visit tit-day, to consul} you about something. I bad a letter the

other day from Mrs. Burnside." "Mr*. —queried my aunt, pur-

rled.

"Mrs. Bnmsiile—my mother-in-law—old Madame Damien, that was." "Oh. to lie sure! W hat did she sayT "Sbo wants to rapke Olga's acquaintepee. She wants me to oeud her down tn Burnside for a long visit, and I—I have decided to let her go." “Emmfline! All that distance!" "Here is the letter; read it for your

tit."

Aunt Rosalie

iped, angular. French

35?

took the missive, in its r. French handwriting, belong to another cen-

bcnntifui estate some 1

Bhlpley, and added to It every moderi luxury that wealth conld supply,

famlij

incline and Rosalie. Emmeline 1 Ufni. with that fragile lovelini so soon decays. A complexion. like » conch shell, delicate feature*, hair of pale gold, and soft, blue ryes. On bet he centered ail his ambition. “Who married Kmmeriine, married her name," said he. She was to be heiress of Gray Ashteod; aha was to perpetuate the line of Carewe. At the age of eighteen his idol met. at Harrogate, a young Freochman, Constant Damien by name. He was a member of a nfbst ancient and noble house, deprived of its title nnd estate* by the revolution of 1789. He was supremely handsome, and, of course, penniless. When Emmeline petitioned to marry Constant my grandfather almost had a fin With much coarse language be dismissed the idea altogether, terming his would-be son-in-law a "beggarly adventurer. Beaide himself with rage. Constant told him that it was a condescension on his part to stoop to the daughter of a p'arvenue—one who certainly did not derive her beauty and goodness from her father, but Inherited them straight from the angels; bnt Mr. Carewe ihoold know “that it was not for such canaille as ho to insolt a nsbleman of France with impunity." . So the two separated, and next morning Emmeline ran away with young Damien. They went to London and were married. My grandfather expected them to appear in a few weeks, suing for forgiveness and help. He mocb mistook the nature of Constant Damien. The young man. who was by profession an artist, worked night and day to keep bis girl wife from want. He would have died isand deaths sooner fhan apply to ew Carewe for a pin. for a year the foolish couple were very, very happy. Soceea* began to smile on Constant'; people took him up. I was born, and their bliss teemed perfect. Then the sbadow feik Constant, walking home one day la the rain, took a chill. He neglected his cold—neglected the hollow cough which followed It—continued to go out in •U wlathers, and at last, one day / took to his bed. He wss in a rapid decline; ~ ing could save him. and in a year he dead, and beautiful Emmeline was a widow—just twenty years old. Then, indeed, she wrote to her father, bnt too late. He would have nothing wbaterer to ssy to {icr. He conld neither forgive nor forget. Hi's darling, idolized daughter had depit him a blow from which he conld not rally. He desired bis solicitor to write to her and her that £100 a year, which she inhered from her mother, would be paid regularly.

The despairing young widow next wrote •o Constant’s mother, who had married

a second nil

■traed Burnside. i soy member of a Ti

had insulted her Constant; Mi

Devonshire gentleman The answer from her

she could have no communicaicmber.of a family which

was that iM'wiA

had Insulted her Constant; Mrs. Damien’s own grand relations migljt look after her and her baby. By the next post came a **~id, bloff letter from Mr. Burnside, my indmother's English husband, inclosing leo-pound note, and promising to send more when I should be old cnoogh to need education. But before that time came he was dead. Poor mother was indeed friendless. She came to Sh|pley-le-Marsh, anil settled there,' for two reasons. First, it was within the reach of her sister Rosalie; secondly, it was a

place where nobody knew her.

For some years mother was always hoping that her father would relent; but when 1 was nbnut four years old, Mr. Carewe adopted the aon of hU cousin—a boy about three years older than I. Then mother felt that our chance was gone. This adopting of > son and heir was u final blow. Day by day she lived on her quiet, dreary life, meek and crushed,

hoping and expecting nothing.

All dinner-time that day mother was silent and preoccupied. Tb» kind atten lion and grave smile with which'shc ussally met my childish cha'.ler were not mine, to-day. One* l almost thought I saw her crying, hot it might have been

fancy. Mariai

triumphantly, "Here's Aunt Rosalie!"

int barouche, with its spirited dreg- up at onr bumble door.

Aunt II of life

nuts, „ . _ ; Rosalie marched into the «oom fall i and spirit. She was twenty-six old, and a eery Btrtkiug-iookin:

1 sat down, with me -n her lap. Weil. Tadpole," qu.th she. “when's your body going to grow aa large aa youi

beadr

In answer to this inquiry I burrowed my tadpole bead in her sbonldcr and.

giggled.

“Lone and Isnkv! What k rawkr chili

“Burnside, June 3.

“My Dear Madame Damira—Vuu will, without doubt, experience a great surprise in receiving a letter from me after my long silence; but it is written ia de ferenoe to the wish of my Iste husband. Mr. Burnside. Ill bis lifetime he expressed a desire to be at the expense of educating the daughter of my Constant, whose msmory Jj* ever held as dear at that of a son. According to my calculations, your daughter must .be ten years te by this and lie grown a great girl,

ber come to Burnside

, , — and long visit. I^-t me ascertain iraeter. her mental capacity, bet and her temper; 1 shalt then be

of age by thi

I would ntk. let ber come to

pay me a ber charai

tastes, and ber temper;

able to judge* how best to carry out the wishes of Mr. Burnside. 1 trust that no foolish pride will induce you to stand in the way of your child's interests in thit matter. Send me a letter, indicating the day and bonr of ber juriral, and abc shall

bo met.

“Hoping for' a favorable reply, I am, ms dame, yours very faithfully. "BLANCHE MARIE .VICO LINE BURNSIDE.” —^ “I think the old lady's rather uppish.'' was my aunt's comment on reading this

epistle.

“Only look on the matter rationally, Hose.” said 'mother, pleadingly; "what other prospects have I for her? Y

yourself must

papa's «

i have 1 for her? You by this time despair of

papa's ever coming ronnd. It darling Olga had only been a boy It might have been differeat—but now! His adopting ” iham Carewe has been my

diffe

young Rayvcn!

final blow. " Yon see."

hopeless sigh,

child must

aother, with a

r only hopes for lb*

continued “my oulj

poor child must cvtne through Mrs. Born side. She must have n little money. I

should think, and when she dies she might

leave it to Olga.”

“But I don’t want to leave y#n: I won’t go anywhere," I cried, nnd therewith I

burst Into tears.

Bnt the fiat bad gone forth. Mother about to comfort me; but

:hlng _____

ruination. 1 ' , grandmother's acqus.n:

ngii mother'! detei to go -and make m

laintance.

CHAPTER II. I will pass over the sod parting with my mother and the few incidents of my journey to'Kingsden, where I was to be met by some of my grandmother’s folks When the train 'reached my destination I scrambled up, the guard appeared, flung open the door and deposited me and my portmanteau on the platform. A heavy step crunched on the gravel near me. 1 looked up. A very talk and, ns it seemed to me then, fabulously broad man stood over me. A rough, gray-cloth hat covered tangled yellow hair, blue Saxon eyes looked down from under squarely marked brows, the lower part of the face was hidden In thick blonde beard and mustache. "Miss Damlyn?'' said he, in grave,

deep tones.

_ "Yes. I am Olga Damien." I answered, looking up at him with a treacherous quiver of my mouth, which warned me

that tears were not far off.

Hercules lifted me up a tremendous height into an airy “trap." I liked being there. It was not so pleasant when Hercules climbed lu..be*ide me. carefully arrangingadust-cloth'over my knees, and easily gathering up the reins. Wqntarted off for one fire-mile drive. Suddenly we took a sharp turn to the right, through a gate which stood open, over a bridge under which aAircam murmured, and. behold, the bouse fronted me! An old. low. lonV Elizabethan. pile,, grsy, stonebuilt. and beautiful. -We stopped at the front door: it was open, which struck me then. I remcmlx-r, as odd. I was set on my feet by Hercules, who then strode to the wide door at the foot of the staircase. uud called aloud. "Madame! I have brought hor!" » A moment elapsed, during which, spile of June sunsei, cold shivers ran down my back. Then a door opened, and through It came ray grandmother, with hand* out si retched. Ah! She was like an oU picture—like a lady from another century. What a grandmother for me to possess! As she stood smiling, and never speaking, bnt bolding out her hands to me. I bejd hack no longer. 1 ran etraigbt into rite shelter of her arms, let ber pnll my hat off my tumbled locks, and felt her caressing touch as she held my bead against her breast and murmured over me. in tbc softest voioe imaginable. "My dear granddaughter! .'My poor Constant’s fatherless little onel So thou hast come to me at bat. mon enfant! Art thou very tired, then? Nay. do apt weep, the Journey has been a long one

for »nch small feet."

. Drawing me into a room near, whereof too lirod to notice anything bnt smelt of roses, she rang a bell.

me. 1 brid hock no longer. 1 r

ti «he

kbone. Thank ’ little of the

aitpeal In her voice. Tbs old serving

woman shook her brad.

"My Monsieur Constant had deep brown eyes," she said. "The young demoiselle’s eyes are gray. Ills complexion was a perfect olive—her skin is fair under ber black hair. But, madatnr. she reminds me strikingly of the old portrait uf thy I'rlnecsk Olga, which was brought

from La Clniudcnnye."

“You think boV" said ray grandmother, with evident delight. "Yes. you are right, KsiH-raurr, it is so. She has the same low brow and short upper is aristocratic to the backbone, heaven, there eon be very

Carewpf alnut ber!”

"8be is tired, mndnme. It Is seven" o'clock. I ►hall take her straight to bed. Yes. ray lamb." she went on to m*. “cry if thou wilt, thou must be so weary. It is a frightful jonrney for so young a 1 laid myself down In the strong arms, and wept quietly. My grandmother stole Up and stroked my hair. "She must wait. then, until to-morrow to see her Uncle Rcmy," said she, softly, "i wonder. Kspcrmure. will he. too. see the likeness which we hive discovered?" “1 think wo," slid Esperanc*. “and ' Monsieur Remy will also be a playfellow j (or ber. I dor* say tbe master scared

her."

"Yes," observed madame. regretfully, “mj- poor Victor is not a Indies’ man." I wondered, sleepily, whether Victor were. Hercules, who hud vanished miraeuloufiy ns soon as my grandmother apired; also. I wondered.bow my Cncli s’bo must of necessity be grown

BEHOVING THE STOMACH ITS IMPORTANCE TO HUMAN DIGESTION GREATLY EXAGGERATED.

"MEALIE MONDAY,"

Kttrtrh tnlvi

I versify tlollrfay is to MspUnlsh I.

fee Poor Sl«-

Ings

J.zpsrlsDo* of Murat

irltlou May Exist Without

sell — Whsn

lology • Show 1

s Ksrlsltta Is Justlfluble.

It In moi soph List

rated yie new anti

During that'

A t-haracterlsUi feature of tbe Jrottlah university which Is worthy of special mention Is that it has always afforded an opportunity to poor students of obtaining an education.

always existed in the unl-

yqrrities a fine- spirit which has rc'ga:ilcd with honor me struggles of I students who are endeavoring to support themselves. And these students have to prized an education as to l.-ad Jjlves of strenuous tejf-denlal. wim S^tyes determinedly eet upon the

than 30 years riure Jo-

iter. iuaugu- j and ascptlc

surgeny. During that surgical ;

technique has been

entirely Into the exclusion of geft

from Wounds made in operations, and I 1:tr . 0 o^j u speraflonh ore now performed with Im- 3 " ' \

ralXrtlrh. I. old time., would , - V* » ■ » thMr tl.l.l.od

1 homes haA appeared at the beginning

simply Hurdrrous. No organ that lx j «• “le a-aVsilc-yirjriU, a bag of

.t InXdJorifly essential to life « 0t icral public 1 m * cntln K ll1 ^ 'trie * , o«' c °Y ,lf '' 1111,1

md to r,-' | “>"*>' , " r 11 . this jSai •l-e that a holiday

!war«

Remy. who must of necessity be groo up, could be my playfellow; and so I fed the touch of soft lips on my tear-stained checks, ami was carried np the wide, shallow oak staircase, along a corridor, and into the sweetest little chamber im-

aginable.

(to sk ooxtixcud.)

Amont t is a Hvii

th* Wood-roik.

prpri when

Here

ure. U

markable story, "The Heart of the Ancient Wood," which every one of you snouid read. The whole book, like this extract, pulses with tho very Innermost life of nature: Keen Ttf vision, skilled In woodcraft though he was. the grave-faced old lumberman saw nothing In the tranquility about btm save tree trunks, and fallen, rotting'remnants. and mossed hillocks, and thickets of tangled shiub. He noted the difference. n<* known to the general eye, between white spruce, black spruce, and fir, between gray birch and yellow birch, between whitewood end viburnum; and he read Instinctively, by the lichen growth about their edges, how many seasons had laid their disfeaturing touch upon those old scan of tbe axe which marked the trail. But for all bis crart he thought himself alone. He guessed not of the many eyes that watched him. In truth, his progress was the focus of an Innumerable attention. Ths furtive! eyem that followed his movements were some of them Umorouqly hostile, some impotently vindictive eome indifferent; bnt all alien. All were at one in tbe will to remain unseen; so all kept an unwinking Immobility. and wc: j swallowed up, as It were. In the universal stillness. Tbe cock-partridge, a well-traveled bird, who knew the settlements and their violent perils, watched the Indignant apprehension. Not without purpose had he come whirring so tumultuously up the trail, a warxjpg to th* ear* of oil the wood-folk.' HU fear was lert the coming of thU gray manfigure should mean an invasion of those long block sticks that went off with smoky hang when they were pointed. He effaced himself till his brown mottled feathers were fairly one with the mottled brownbark of his perch, but his liquid eye lost not a least movement of the stronger. The nuthatch, who- had been walking straight up the perpendicular trunk of a pine 'when the sound of the alien footsteps froze him. peered fixedly around the tree. HU eye. a black point of Inquiry, had never before seen anything like this clumsy and slow-moving shape, but knew it for something dangerous. His Uttio slaty bead, jutting at an acute angle from •he bark, looked like a mere caprice of knot or wood fungus; but It had the singular quality of movli smooth!;' around the trunk, as tL»

lumberman advanced, so as to keep 8how tlult Mr, T * ood dl P e811 ' him always In view. Equally curious, j nutrition may exist without tk«

fiat quivering with fear, two wood- i ach '

liver. Intestine

ely, removal

rt^Thc

ports In the press of removal of dU-

s, kii

of the stomach.

When the German surgeon. Schlatter. In 1835. reported his case of com pletc removal of the stomach, the patient surviving for several months. It became really a question whether this organ, while certainly a great con-

venience. was absolutely

fair health and physical comfort results obtained by many operators, both here and abroad, seem to show that a person may live fairly wc’.l without a stomach. In 1898 the entire stomach was taken from a woman in the Norwegian hospital. Brooklyn, for adcno-carcinoma. The woman had suffered intensely, ar-d was reduced in weight from 14C pounds to 90. After the stomach had been removed and the oesophagus joined to the intestine the suffering was relieved and imiven.ent continued for 17 months.

i lost sight of. In six

lined 30

months she had gained 30 pounds In weight. There are other ca«es on rec-

ord showing similar results.

That many writers on pkisiology have greatly exaggerated the importance of ihe stomach lu digestion Is certain. The stomach serves as a receptacle for food. It prepares food for inteetlnai digestion, which Is by far the most important part of the digestive process, and passes it slowly ont os it is thoroughly prepared. It has an antiseptic action, arresting pctrefactive and undue fermentations: but. as the eminent French physiologist Claude Bernard, sbgfcw at least 50 years ago. most of proeeges ol_. ttonai h digestion closely resemble cooking, and the final digestion of most articles takes place in the small Intestine In the stomach, raw starches are hydrated, fats are set free from the fat vesicles, meats are softened Into a pulpy matter, and there I*

little or no nutritive absorption.

Some years before Schlatter extirpated the human stomach the stomachs were removed from dogs in Franch and Germany. The animals did well and with great care In feeding. digestion and nutrition seemed to be normal. Physiology, therefore, seems to answer In the negative the question as to whether th« stomach is an organ immediately essetyial ti Ufc.

—- - ire c‘ '

Ible os a the

Sj

t may b Its, doln

own c for th

e*Pl

justifiable operation? He was a bold surgeon who did the first operation; tut the'result and the results of others have clearly shown that removal of the stomach, in certain cases at least. Is justifiable. An operation, especially when rendered painless by anaesthetics. which offers a reasonable prospect of relief from suffering, and even a few weeks or months longer of life, is humane. In certain coses of extensive cancerous disease with profound cachexia, cure is not to be expected: but In others, life and physical comfort^ may be prolonged for months eVen years. The teacnlngs of phy-

surgery

and

rlng and eVen years. The teacnlngs t b e - ‘ slology and the experience of i

him always In view. Equally curb

with fear, two wc„_ .

mice watched him Intently, sitting un- ! lute • * * ctlon oI

der the hi

not three feet from the trail. Their 1 * tomach ,B concerned, food may be whiskers touched web other's noses. I lctroduced Pre-dlgcsted; and. If given conveying thrills and palpitations of in «»*> 1 _ Quantiti« and frequently, terror as he drew near, drew nearer i ,he URC * * ^ «omach os a food recame—and passed. But not unless ceptacle and an . orI * n PrePAr«ory In

that blind, unheeding heel had been lt9 BCtlon 10 lnt ** ,l,

on the very point of crushing them, would they have disobeyed tho prime law of their tribe, which taught them that to sit still was to sit unseen. A HtUe farther back from the trail, under a spreading tangle of Ironwood, on a bed of tawny moss crouched a hare. HIs ears lay quite flat along tbe back.

be artificially supplied. Putrefactive action and untoward fermentations,

also, may easily be p> evented. The happiness of possessing a-tract-

able. trustworthy, stalwart and wellordered stomach is best appreciated by those whose stomachs are occasionally disordered. When the stomach does

HU eyes watched with aversion, not I rot Properly prepare food for the inunmlxed with scorn, the heavy, tall jJ?6tines. the liver and the pancreas.

j these Uttar organs arc likely to proI test, sometimes very emphatically. No one Is well and happy who is com-

— ... j pelled to pay constant attention to delicate current of air that pulses 1m- j hls dlet and la to cat this and perceptibly through ths foresL bore i thlit the ** ■ rtic,e * being good and

>avy,

ich effort

and such noise. "Never," thought the hare, disdainfully, “would fas be able ipe from his enemies!" As the

the scent 6f the mm to tbe hare's i wholesome. Physicians often make hldlng-pUco, the fine nostriU of the I ,he mUt * , ' e of endeavoring to adapt Utter worked rapidly with dUUke. j 01 e dlet of dyspeptics to the disordered - j organs of digestion, instead of trying

to bring the digestive organs to a con-

John Chlssmsm Carobinc Os. j dition in which they will digest proitAbout a year ago the Hawaiian gov- er foed in proper quantity. A dyspepernmect attempted to burn up so mo tic who constantly watches bU diet ilague-lnfebted building*, and in sr> u a dyspeptic for life. Aa it appears p local Chinatown, thus j now, a refractory and unpleasant

»-lnfel set fli

the

tdy for harvesting. A million | f r0 m an otherwise hMlthy man without endangering or shortening Ufqt

loing.set fire tp local t lowing the seed of a crop of cUtmi i stomach might .be safely removed

ce like an sure "Espcrnnec, this Is Monsieur nit's little one," said my grands emnlously. Do yon sec a IF ked my grandmother, with s

Iven-

will remove . the

stomach for intractable, and distressing dyspepsia not dependent on seri-

ous structural di

Sun.

disease*—New York

the student* an opportunity of r ing home to repiralsh their 1

This day Is still ot

rrturnUrder.

_ . observed os a holi-

day in his Reminiscences of Edinburgh Robert Chambers tells the story

himself, had lived together, ami each hud brought to the common store a hag of oatmeal. The three bags hung trow one of ihe ratu-rs of their room.

ipuloiMly

s of £

and the landlady would scrupi take a handful of the meal from each

bag. in order to mix the morclni

ridge, according to a stri principle of distribution.

a strictly

cing porcquiiab'.e

it must be remembered, also, that in many coses untold sacrifices must be borne in the home whence the sons set forth to secure an education, in order that they may live in a university town at ail, even in tne simplest possible manner. It is by no means an isolated case, that story of the father who had but three cow*, and one of them he sold in order to send his ton to St. Andrew's,—Scribner's

Magazine.

QUAINT AND CURIOUS.

Mice have long been In demand as pets. They .nan be trained to perform many tricks, arc very fond of music, and have been taught to dance gracefully to waltz time.

costs JS27 to fire a single shot 16-inch rifle, or more than

private for five

> pay the wages i the regular a

long years. ' Even an eight-inch rifle costs fl2o each time it Is discharged. One day the gardener at the Norfolk Creake rectory. Norfolk. England, hung up hts jacket in the rectory greenhouse. On taking it down he. found that a wren had built her nest in one of the sleeves. The intruder seemed quite at home in her odd resting place, and bos been left la.*n31i- -

turbed possession.

court in London the other day i described himself as a descendant of the Pharaohs and "hereditary hierophant of the sacred mysteries." His two claims to fame are that he has discovered that "hurrah" Is of EgypiTi»nd be has written a porm called "The Doom of ^haos: One Thousand Lines of Original Melodious Verse." Wherever the Romans penetrated they were sure to erect great baths. Recent excavations on an estate in Scotland have revealed the foundations of an immense bath with concrete floors and walls, lead pipe connection. hypocaust and stoke hole •with a flue extending from it- The foundations of the piers In the hypocaust sire now displayed. The walls of the rooms are formed of stone and lime covered with strong concrete, with a polished surface and painted a brick-red color. The floors are nil of concrete:

A correspondent, writing from Shanghai, says that a young Chlnqse

Physicians are able now to im- lady there has recently been married

if the stomach in theV to a red flower vase, the vase being a So for as the 'gubstltute for the son of a wealthy

mandarin, to whom the had been engaged. Her flam e died Just before the contemplated 1 marriage, and os she vowed she would never wed another. " e flower, vase was substituted for

the flower- vase the bridegroom,

m. and the

rriage « im-

personal marriages are not uncommon In China, and it Is easy to belfevi

that a happy pair so unite

to belfi

sd would

with other family

People a ing how long tbe bodg__Df* !-ouis Dorsey, which is now exposed under gloss in the cemetery\wi!l retain its lifelike freshness. "Dorsey's tomb” is now one of the sights there. The tomb, cut from Carthage granite, is about ten feet long, five feet wide, and five feet high. In 1*0 center the coffin Is encased around by about 12 Inches of solid stone, which makes ft

sionc. cui in me snape oi * i which in turning can be made t

who designed the tomb, used tbe I curance money on bis life to carry out the work. Up to the present time the body preserves the freshness of Ills

Kecont Price for a Rook.

The biggest price ever paid for a book T*ox *44.500. given for an originay copy of the Psalterium, published by Faust In 1459. It was bought by

Bernard Quarltch of London.