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“ It cannot be ; Phil is not gone from me forever. Somewhere we must meet again. Death could only stupefy, not quench, all that vitality. There is something beyoni ; there is a rallying point, a. world where we shall meet those whom we have loved and lost. And Phil is there. and some day I shall find him. Thank God for that hopeâ€"thank God there in a. hereafter. - uonnNma non mm. It was very, very bitter and deep, and all the more so because the blow had fallen so suddenly, without a note of warning. At the knoll there was a small and select dinner But now thtit Phil was deadâ€" Phil, who had been so much to himâ€"Phil, whom he loved far better than the cold, unsympathetic elder brother who had died years ago, he felt a bitter sense of loasmnd pain,aud loneliness and as he rode slowly. home in the gathering twilight of that winti‘y afternoon, and thought of that bright young life and active mind so suddenly blotted out of existence, it this theory was true, he _suddenly cried aloud : He bowed himself from the room, and was soon riding slowly homeward, with sad thoughts in his heart of the friend he had lost and who seemed to be so near him that more than once he started and looked around as if expecting to meet Phil’s pleasant face and hear his well-remembered laugh. Mr. 'Beres- ford belonged to that class of men. who, with- out exactly saying there is no God and no hereafter. still doubt it in their hearts, and by trying to explain everything on scientific principles throw a veil over the religion they were taught to hold so sacred in their child- hood. But death had never touched him very closely, or borne away that for which he mourned with a very keen or lasting sense of loss and pain. His father had died before he could remember him, and though his mother lived till he was a wengrown youth, she had not attached him very strongly to her. He had been very proud of her as an elegant, fashionable woman, who sometimes came in her lovely party dress to look at him before going out to some place of amusement, but he had never known what it was to be petted and caressed, and when his mother died and her place in the house- hold was filled by a maiden aunt who min- istered to all his physical wants better than the mother had done, his sorrow was neither deep nor lasting, and in his maturer man- hood, when the seeds of skepticism were tak- ing root, he could think without a fancy that possibly there was beyond this life no place where loved ones meet again and;friendships are renewed; nothing but oblivionâ€"a long, dreamless sleep. Years ago Margery had seen Queenie in what she called her “ moods," when her evil spirit had the escendant, and she fought and struck at anything Within her reach, but of late these fits had been of rare occurrence, and so she was astonished, on her return to the room with Mr. Beresford, to see the girl standing erect in the middle of the floor, her nostrils dilated and her eyes blazing as she had never seen them blaze before, as they fleshed upon Mr. Beresford, whose heart was full of sorrow for his loss, and who went to- ward her to offer his sympathy. But Queenie repelled him with a fierce gesture of both hands, striking out upon the air as if she would have struck him had he been within her reach. She was beginning to soften; the mood was passing ofl‘, and though her face was pale as ashes, the glitter was gone from her eyes, which turned at last toward Margery, who hadlooked on in utter astonishment, wondering to see her friend so strangely af- fected. “ Don’t speak to me, ArthurBeresiord," she cried, and there was something awful in the tone of her voice. “ Don’t come near me, or I may do you harm. I'm not myself to-day, I'm that other one you have never seen. I know what are here for without your telling me. You have come to talk to me of Phil, to say you are sorry for me, sorry he is dead, but I will not hear it. You, of all men, shall not speak his name to me, guilty as you are of his death. I sent him away. I.murdered him, but you were the first cause; you sug gested to me the cruel words I said to him, and which no man could hear and not go away. You talked of Sardauapalus, and efieminacy, and weakness, and lack of occupation, and every word was a sneer, because, coward that you were, you thought to raise yourself by lowering him, and foolthat I was, when he came to me and told me of a love such as you are in- capable of feeling, I spurned him and cast your words in his teeth and made him loathe and despise himself and made him go away, to seek the occupation, to build up the man- hood you said he lacked -, and now he is dead, drowned in far off eastern waters, my Phil, my love, my darling. I am not ashamed to say it now. There is nothing unmaidenlyfin the confession that I love him,love him as few men ever have been loved, and Iwishlhad told him so that night upon the rocks ; wish Ihad trampled down that scruple of cousinship which looks to me now so small. But I did not. I broke his heart, and saw it breaking, too ; knew it by the awful look upon his face, not a look of disappointment only 2 he could have borne that, could have borne my rejec- tion of him; few men, if any, die of love alone ; but there was on his face a look of unutterable shame and humiliation as if all the manliness of his nature had been insulted by my taunts of his Womanish habits and ways. 0h, Phil, my love ; if he could know how my heart is aching for him and will ache on for ever until i find him again some- wherein the other worldl Don’t speak to me," she continued, as Mr. Beresford tried to say something to her. “ I tell you I am dan- gerous in these moods, and the sight of you who are the first cause of my anguish, makes me beside myself. You talked some non- sense once about probation, you called it, waiting for my love. I told you then it could not be. I tell it to you now a thousand times more strongly. I would rather be Phil’s wife for one second than to be yours through all eternity. Oh, Phil, my love. my love, if I could die and join him ; but life is strong within me and I am young and must live on and on for years and years with that death-cry always sounding in my ears as it sounded that awful night when he went down beneath the waters with my name upon his lips. Where was I that I did not hear it and know that he was dying ? If 1 had heard and joined him on his journey through the shades of death. But there was no signal ; I did not hear him call, and. laughed on as I shall never laugh again, for how can I be happywith Phil dead in the sea ‘2” " 0h, Margie, Margie, help me. I don’t know what I have been saying. I think I must be crazy.” she said, as she stretched her arms toward Margery, who went to her at once, and leading her to the couch made her lie down while she soothed and quieted her until a faint color came back to her face, [land her heat-bests were not so rapid and end. Across the room by the window Mr. Berea- ford was still standing, with a troubled look upon his face, and seeing him Queenie called him to hex, and putting her icy hand in his, laid to him very gently : “ Forgive me if I have wounded you. I am not myself when these moods are upon me. I don’t. know what I said, only this I know. you must never think of me again any more than if you had never seen me, for my heart is with Phil and Phil is in the sea. Now go away, please, and leave me alone with Mar- serx-” _ " God bless you, Queenie. and comfort you and forgive me if anything I said. was instru- mental in sending Phil away. He was the dearest friend I ever had, the one I liked the best and enjoyed the most, and I never shall forget him or cease to mourn for him. Good- by, Queenie, good-afternoon, Miss La Rue.” By turn. Mary .I. ll olmes, author of "Tempest and Sunshine." " Ethelyn's Mistake," “ Forrest House." etc. ., fir. Beresford bowed, and pressing the hand he held, said; in a choking voice: QUEENIE HETHERTON. CHAPTER XXXIX. Then Paul Rossiter broke down and cried as few men ever cry, and sobbed untilit seem- ed as if his heart would break, while his wife, now the stronger and calmer of the two, supported him in her arms and strove to com- fort him. There was perfect accord and con- fidence between the husband and wife after that, and Mrs. Rossiter roused herself to something like cheerfulness and interest in the world about her for the sake of the man who, except to her. never mentioned Philip’s name, but who grew old and grey and bent so" fast and sometimes even forgot to water his term end let them dry and wither in their. “Forgive me Paul. 1f I have been so selfiish in my own grief as not to see how you, too, have sufiered, Philip was our boy, Paul ; we loved him together. we will mourn for him together, and comfort each other. and love each other better beause we have lost him." “Phil, Phil. my boy, how can I live without. him? I was so proud of him and loved him so much, Oh, Phil, they think me cold and callous, because I cannot talk and moan as others do, but God knows my bitter pain. God help me and Mary too, Poor Mary, who was his mother, and loved him, maybe, more than I did. God comfort her and help her to bear, no matter what. I suffer." This was what Mrs. Rossiter heard, and in a moment she was beside the prostrate man, --her arms were around his neck. and his bowed head was laid against her bosom. while she kissed his quivering lips again and again, as she said to him : Had he then no feeling. no sorrow for his son? Mrs. Rossiter almost thought so ; but. that night, waking suddenly from a quiet sleep. she missed him from her side, and raising herself in bed, saw him across the room by the window, where the moonlight was streaming in. kneeling upon the floor with his face buried in a pillow he had lain upon a. chair, the better to smother the Bobs which seemed almost to send his soul from his body, thex were so deep and Pitiful. party the evening the letter came. Some friends from Boston were visiting in the house, and Mrs. Rossiter had invited a few of the villagers to meet them. and in her evening dress of claret velvet, with diamonds in her ears and at her throat, looked as lovely and almost as young as in her early girlhood when she won the heart of the grave and silent Paul Rossiter. Dinner had been over some little time, and she was standing with her guests in the drawing-room, when the fatal letter was brought to her. She saw it was from Madras, and the handwriting a. stranger’s; and though it was directed to her husband. who immediately after dinner had wandered off to his conservatories. where he spent most of his time, she opened it un- hesitatingly, feeling sure that it contained tidings of her son. and feeling, too, with that subtle and unexplainable intuition which so often precedes dreadful news that the tidings were not good. But she was not prepared for the realityâ€"not prepared to hear that Phil was dead; and when she read that it was so -that he would never return to her again, she gave one long, agonized shriek which curdled the bloodfof those who heard it, and who gathered swiftly around her as she dropped upon the floor in a faint so nearly resembling death that for a little time they feared she was really dead. Fortunately the family physician was among the guests, and so relief was immediate, or she might never have returned to consciousness, so terrible was the shock to her nervous system. For hours she passed from one fainting fit into another, and when these were over lav in a kind of semi-stupor, moaning sadly at inter- vals : “ 0h Paul how can you care for such things with Philip dead ?" “ I don’ t know, Mary,” he answered up 010- getically. “ I am so sorry if I have done anything out of oharaater: the little things seem so glad for ihe water, and if I was to let every dusted fern, and orchid, and pitcher plant die, it would not bring Philip back.” But the hands which held the pot trembled and the palms were wet with ‘ greet drops of sweet, as he went slowly to the room Where his wife lay in a swoon. He was a small man, and weak. too, it would seem, but it was he who lifted the fainting Woman up snd bore her to her chamber and loosened her dress. and took the diamonds from her throat and ears, and the flowers from her hair, as quickly and skilfully as her daughters could have done. There was a good deal of Phil in his nature, and he showed it in his womanly and quiet manner at the sick bed. “ Where hive you been so long? ” his wife asked him once, when he came to her after an absence of more than an hour. “ Been watering my fame,” was his reply, and with a half reproachful 8031‘) his wife con- tinued : If Mrs. Rossiter had a weakness it washer almost idolatreus love for her son. Phil had been her idol, and if her husband and both her daughters had lain dead at her feet and Phil had been spared to her, she would not have felt half so badly as she did. now when she still had husband and daughters, but Phil was not. Nothing availed to soothe or quiet her, and the house which had heretofore been so bright and cheerful, and full of gayety, be- camea house of sorrow and gloom. The ser- vants trod softly through the silent halls, and spoke only in whispers to each other, while Ethel and Grace, with traces of weeping upon their fair, sweet faces sat from morning till night with folded hands, looking hopelessly at each other as if paralyzed by the awful calamity which had fallen upon them. They were of no use to their mother, who lay in her darkened room, refusing to see any one except her husband, whom she kept con- stantly with her, and who gave no sign of .vhat he thought or felt. Quiet, patient, all enduring, he sat by his wife’s bedside and listened to her moans, and did what she bade him do ; left her when she said so ; returned to her when she sent for him, and if he felt pain or grief himself uttered no word, and never mentioned Phil’s name. " Poor Mary. I am so sorry for you‘,” he said once, and pressed his lips to the forehead of his wife, who sobbed convulsively, and clung to him as a child in pain clings to its mother. But there were no tears in his eyes.â€"â€"â€"no change in his manner, as he went about his usual avocations and watered hie‘ferns and tended hie orchids and picked off the dead leaves from the roses and cal-nations, and smoked the lilies and roses on which insects were gathering. “ Oh. my bay 1 my boy! my P1111, my darlingâ€"drownedâ€"deadâ€"~gone away from mg Vipgeveyâ€"m‘y bqy, )ny boy 7!” Of Mr. Rossiter. or Uolonel Rossiter as he was frequently called, we have said compara- tively nothing, as he has but little to do with the story, except as the father of Phil. He was a very peculiar man. Silent. unsocial. un demonstrative. and. save hislove and admira- tion for his wife, of whom he was very proud and fond, apparently indifferent to everything except his conservatories. of which he had four, and what they contained. Had he been poor and obliged to earn his own living he would unquestionably have been a gardener, so fond was he of flowers and plants of every kind. He had walked miles through the tan. gled glades of Florida, hunting for some new specimens of ferns or pitcher plants. and his greenhouses were full of rare exotics, from every clime. Here. and in the room adjoin- ing, where he kept his catalogues and books of pressed leaves and flowers, he spent most of his time, and if beguiled away from his fa- vorites for a few moments he was, as he ex- pressed it, ” in a dused hurry to get back to to them." With nothing to do he was always in a “dused hurry,” and this saying of his had passed into a proverb in Merrivale and wherever he was known. It was in one of his conservatories that the news of his son’s death reached him. After dinner was over he had asked his gentlemen guests to go with him and see a new kind of fern, gathered the previous autumn in some of the neighboring swamps, and he was talking most eloquently of its nature and habits when his wife’s shriek reached him,’ and the next moment a servant rushed in, exclaiming: A “Drowned'! My son drowned! Did you say Philip was dead? It will go hard thh his poor mother,” he said very calmly, as he put the pot of ferns carefully back in its place. “0h, sit, come Quick, Mrs, Rossiter has fainged, am! Mr: @‘hilip isr drowned." â€"The new Czarina 18 expected ere long to offer the Czar another pledge of her aflection, and the ceremony performed on July 81 in the chapel of the Winter Palace owed its precipi- tancy to Alexander Nicolaievich's resolve that the child of his old age should be born in wed- lock, thus becoming entitled to the rank privi- leges, and nppanege of a Grand Duke or Dachau. ‘ The whiskey trade of the United States re- ceived a great impetus. about twenty-five years ago, by the Wide publication oi the fact that a large proportion of the French brandy imported into this country consisted of Ameri- can pure spirits, exported to France, doctored with oil of cognac, and returned to us in French packages. Prior to this discovery brandy, in one form or another, was the fashionable drink in most of our eastern cities, but the publication referred to caused a stam- pede, so to speak, from brandy to whiskey, and the latter acquired and has maintained the supremacy. Since the ravages of the phylloxera have greatly reduced the produc- tion of French wines, complaints of the _ adulteration of wines in France have become frequent. It has recently come to light that the process known as platragz, which consists of sprinkling the grapes with plaster of paris, as successive baskets of them are thrown into the crushing machine or the fermenting vats, is now a general practice in France. The effect of the plaster is to de- compose the tartrates of potash existing in grape juice, forming calcium tartrate, an in- soluble salt, which is a drastic and danger- ous purgative. This process is said to give wines a fictitious ageing sheet, and it is re- sorted to by Wine producers to get their wines sooner to market. and economize in cooper- age and interest. The French Government has taken measures to restrain the practice, but it is doubtful if they will be effective. Doubtless many people in the United States are in the habit of enjoying this drugged wine, while they turn with afiected loathing from our pure native wines. which the French are now glad to buy.â€"Bradstreet’s. â€"There is an inch of snow in West Flam- boro’. . pots where they might have died but for his BRO. GABDNEB’S LIMEâ€"K um wife who took charge of them herself, and‘ . CLUB. gave them the care they needed. ; '- ECCENTBICITIES or memos. Simplicity in dress is the rule that governs the elegantes of fashion this season. and the richer the material the more simple the dress. To the eye of manâ€"not to womenâ€"the dress looks inexpensive. and then he Wonders why his wife cannot dress in this, and not draw so extravagantly on his purse. One of the handsomest dresses worn at an entertainment in Paris was a simple robe of white muslin, with a blue sash, and the cost of the whole is said to be $6. This is one of the stories that some Parisian women thought they would inquire into, and proposed to themselves the problem how women who set the fashion could dress themselves so as to be distin- guished from other women, and yet employ the commonest stufis. Fourteen ladies com- peted. and the prize was awarded unanimous- ly to the wearer of this costume. A dress of securing cloth, lined with red, trimmed with lace, and embroidered with wild flowers on a gold ground, short sleeves, skirt trimmed with Valenciennes. parasol, shoes and gloves to match. This was a. simple costume made only of scouring cloth and yet when finished en. costume cost over 300 francs. m sour. mm. The Emperor and Empress of Germany see each other as little as possible. It is some- what curious how few monarchs do get on with their wives and the wives with the hus- bands. for they seldom adore each other. The Empress of Austria is seldom seen in society, and when out riding or driving carries a fan before her face. even when returning the greetings of her royal admirers. She seldom attends the theatre or opera, but when the circus comes to town is then seen in her box every night. She knows only one passion, and that is her love of horses and equestrian- ship. She has her own especial riding estab- lishment, and here she reigns supreme. She will drive a tandem team before her at a re- lentless pace around the ring, having fresh relays of horses every few minutes. She has a place titted up in the stable of her favorite charger where she can sleep if she feels so disposed, and where she frequently dictates her letters to her private secretary, while her favorite horse looks over from his stall and is patted fondly by his imperial mistress. ART IN nnass. American ladies have long been noted for their taste in dress, and though individually they may violate the ‘rules of harmony, as a nation they carry off the palm for elegant dressing, understanding its fitness to age, complexion and climate. Ruskin, thegreat art educator, holds that there may be as much ar- tistic taste shown in dress as in the coloring of a picture, and lays down the following rules, which are full of suggestion : “ Right dress is strong, simple, radiantly clean. care- fully put on, carefully kept. Beautiful dress is beautiful in color, in harmony of parts, and in mode of putting on the wearing." Frede- rika Bremer paid American women this trib- ute while on her visit to this country: “ I have but one regret amid all," she writes to her friends in Europe in regard to the enthu- siastic greeting with which she was received here, “ and that is this: I feel so sorry when all these beautiful and handsomely dressed ladies call upon me, that they should find the object of their admiration to be such an ugly, old-fashioned. ill-dressed old body as I am.” DRESS REFORM IN ENGLAND. Lady Habberton is agitating the question of dress reform in England, and says for those who are not strong, the fatigue of bat- tling every few steps with the narrow cling- ing skirt is a very serious consideration. In walking women step from their hips like the rest of the human race. end in the present style of dress, it so fastens the legs that she is obliged to take short stumbling steps, and there is usually a piece of the skirt which is al- ternately kicked out and caught by the heel behind, which would strike everyone as most absurd, if we were not so thoroughly used to seeing it. There seems to be only one way out of it, and that is to have the present tight skirt divided, so as to be something like the trousers worn by women in the East. They would be quite loose, perfectly comfortable and graceful in appearance. The bodies of the dress could then be out after the fashion of an out-door jacket, coming to the knees. This reform in dress will probably never be followed by English ladies. though they seem strongly interested in it. Until then Ameri- can ladies will not much exercise their minds about it. FRENCH AND AMERICAN LIQUORS. ” This dress should be taken in here and let out there,” said a rash American lady once to Mr. Worth, who was graciously pleased to superintend the momentous operation oi try- ing on. “ Madame,” said he, ‘- I am obliged to you for your advice, and your ideas shall be carried out." And so they were, but she never saw Mr. Worth again. One must not dictate to the dictator. Dress with Mr. Worth is a. fine art worthy of calling into exercise the highest human faculties. He knows everybody and seems to be an acute judge of character. He is a great inventor, and even at his dinner table a. sheet of pspsr is often by his side, and on it he draws designs for new costumes calculated to fill the sex with envy. His favorites are the American ladies and they are his best custom- ers. For them he exerts all his talents. When a lady goes to he posed for a. costume, she stands on a. pedestal antihe casts his eyes over the work that others have produced after his directions. and tries the effect of pinning the trimming on here and there, until he strikes something fitted to the lady‘s own par- ticular style. He then stands 03 looking at his work,resuming the pinning and unpinning againâ€"like a. sculptor engaged in putting the finishing touches to a statue. GOSSIP FOR THE LADIES. WORTH IN BIB H STUDIO.' (To BE CONTINUED .1 “ Befo’ dis club meets agin do people of dis kentry will have choosen anoder President. I shall go to de polls on Tuesday an’ cast my vote as I fink‘bes’ , an’ all 0’ you am spected to do is same. {shall use up de rest a: do The Chairman of the Committee on Inter- national Afiairs reported that a better and more harm'onieus feeling now prevailed be- tween the colored race of Canada and the United States than had been known for twenty years before. The Lime-Kiln Club affiliated with twenty-three different lodges and societies, and extended a warm welcome to all strangers from the other shore. ABSTRACT PHILOSOPHY. The Committee on the above made their monthly report as follows : “Doorin' de past month dis committee has bin able to accumu- late some valyble iniormashun to de world at large in gineral an’ to dis club in pertickler. We has diskivered dat u bar’l of new cider has an attraction equal to a. pressure of500 pounds to do squer’ fut. We has diskivered dat de objective pint of life am purty ebenly divided between becomin’ a. preacher, becomin' 3 Con. gressman an’ becomin‘ a champion. A lame dog does not limp to favor a lame leg. but to favor hisself. Women‘talk to get rid of dar foolish thoughts. Men do not hate as intense for an injury as day do fur a favor. If de character of a man can be read by de bumps on his head, de natur’ of a boss should be known by de pufls on his hind legs. A sick man’s generosity lasts no longer den he am able to pull on his own butes." “menu ADVICE. The reports having all been accepted andj filed, Brother Gardner arose and said; The Chairman of the Mutual Benefit Insur- ance Fund reported that 134 active and hon- omry members were carrying an insurance of $1,000 each. and that the list of members was increasing from week to week. The only death of a member of this fund thus far was that of Carryall Hopkins, of North Carolina. The money enabled his widow to buy a piano, two silk dresses, a camel’s hair shawl. and to take her seven children on a visit of 250 miles. Had he not been insured she would have returned from his grave to the wash- tub. and her children might never have seen the capital building of the State of Geor- (Detroit Free Press.) On Wednesday last the janitor of the Lime- Kiln Club was notified that a box directed to Brother Gardner was at the express office, and he responded by removing it to Paradise Hall. Supposing it to be some relic to aduin the walls of Paradise Hall, the old man pro- ceeded to open the box. He will never do the like again. There was a cracking sound, fol- lowed by an explosion. and when the janitor recovered consciousness it was 7 o'clock in the evening, his dog had gone home and he was lying with his head under the stove and his feet in the water pail. He was scorched and blistered in several places, his mouth asted like old fish, and his general condition was lamentable. . Some one had sent on an infernal machine with the intention of blowing up Brother Gardner in person. Why any person should hold such a deadly spite against the good old mm: is beyond comprehension. The villain is a white man, whoever he is, and the ques- tion of his being lynched for horse stealing cannot long be left unsettled. The box was of course blown to pieces, but it has been as- certained that it came from Concord, Mass, and there is“ strong suspicion for believing that the infernal machine was forwarded by the Concord School of Philosophy. The matter will receive a thorough investigation, and the guilty natty cannot expect to escape punishment. “ De Chay’r has already decided dat we won't have any adhesive just now,” replied the old man as he filed the report, and Penstock fail» ed to make his point. “ A bottle of mucilage. sah.” “ What fur ?” “ To use as an adhesive. snh.“ "Adhesive? adhesive 1’" queried the old man as he scratched his ear. “ Dis club has nin runnin' three y’ars an’ mo’ widout any adhesive am. I eber heard of, and why it should suddenly want some adhesive in 9. bottle am beyond me. Am (19 Librarian quite sartin he doan’ mean suthiu’ in a jug. ASTRONOMY -â€"THE COMET. The Chairman of the Committée on As- tronomy heaved a. deep sigh and reported as follows: “ Dis committee am well awnr’ of de fuck dat a comet has recently bin diskivered about 60,000,000 miles on de road to Heaben, an’ (let it am now supposed to be approachin' de y’arth at a rapid rate. but de committee sees no speehul occashun to get excited. It will be a month or so before do said comet can git here. an’ de chances am dat. de y’arth will mash it at de fust bump. Dis committee ad- vises de members of (16 club to git dar’ butes tapped, dar’ overcoat-e patched an’ dar’ wood hauled up fur winter, an’ let de comet bizness take keer o’ itself.“ “ A bottle of what f” asked Brother Gard ner. - “ Will do oha’r permitva to ’splain (16 use of (19 said adhesive," asked the Rev. Penstock, as he arose. ’ ‘1' THE LIBRARY. The Librarian reported the library possessed about 8,000 volumes, divided as follows : Histories, 4; scientific, 2: medical, 1; travels. 3; political, 12 ; fiction, 55. The remainder is composed of almanacs, tracts, etc. The library is open every evening in the week to members of the club and their families, and the Librarian had noticed a‘ decided hanker- ing after works on philosophy and profound thought. A year ago Gulliver Snowdrop. for instance. could hardly get away With Mother Winslow‘s shortest paragraph to young mothers. Now he could sit down to the most profound digest and cooper every big word and hidden meaning. The Librarian closed his report by recommending the purchase of a bottle otmucilage for his department. 0N HARMONY. The Committee on Harmony. to which had been referred a. dispute between Elder John Kingston, of Erie, Pa., and the Rev. Kilroy Dayis, of Chicago, on the subject of eternal punishment, reported that they had been un- able to effect a compromise between the two colored divines. The Elder holds that sinners will be punished forever, while the Reverend contends that they will be released from that state after about fifty years and given a chance to enjoy themselves. The committee had sug ested as a compromise that the time of punis ment be called 100 years, but neither party would give way, and the committee de- sired to ask for further instructions. “ I will discharge you from furder consider- ashun of do subjeck,” replied Brother Gard- ner. “ ”When hardly two preachers in de kentry kin agree on the subjeck of fucher pun- ishment, common people havea right to doubt What am purvided fur." AGRICULTURAL. The Committee on Agriculture reported that their midsummer estimate of crops had been more than realized except in the case of buck- wheat. which is always a deceiving crop to estimate on. There was no special cause to thank Providence for the big crops, for it was just as easy for her to turn out big crops as little ones. She wasn’t a cent out of pocket either way. The committee recommended that the club offer a premium to any person who will invent a flat boat with a plow at- tached. so that farmers may not be delayed by wet weather. Also, that farmers pay more attention to natural history. The committee had canversed with a score of farmers not one of whom could explain why cows did not sit down to rest the same as dogs, nor why a hired man too tired to tackle the wood pile for fifteen minutes could walk two miles and dance all night.‘ The committee estimated that 8,650 mowers and reapers, 25,000 scythes, 58,000 plows, 6.000 scrapers. 94,800 hay~rakes and 22,000 cultivators would be left in the fields to winter by the thrifty farmers of this country. THE INEUBANCE FUND INTERNATIONALA â€"The late Lord Olifl’ord, a Roman Catholic peer, provided in his will that should the younger sons. to whom he left $150,000, take holy orders their portions are to be reduced to $15,000. In like manner the portions of his daughters are to be reduced from $60.000'to 622, 500 should they become nuns. Another Roman Catholic gentleman of high position made I uimilar premiu- a you or two ago. The plug hat is virtually a sort of social guaranty for the preservation of peace and order. He who puts one on has given a hos- tage to the community for his good behavior. The wearer of a plug hat must move with certain sobriety. He cannot run or jump, or romp, or get into a fight, except at the peril of his headgear. All the hidden influences of the beaver tend toward respectability. He who wears one is obliged to keep the rest of his clothing in decent trim. that there may be no incongruity between head and body. He is apt to become thoughtful through the ne- cessit of watching the sky whenever he goes out. he chances are that he will buy an urn- brella, which is another guaranty for good be- havior, and the care of hat and umbrella, perpetual and exacting as it must ever he, adds to the sweet seriousness of his charac- ter. Then the man who wears a plug hat naturally takes to the society of women, with all its elevating accessories. He cannot go hunting or fishing without abandoning his beloved hat, but in the moderate enjoyments of female companionship, croquet and lawn- tennis he may sport his beaver with impu. nity; in other words, the constant use of a plug hat makes a man composed in manner, 1 quiet and gentlemauly in conduct, and the 1 companion of the ladies. The inevitable re“ sult is prosperity, marriage, and church mem-1 bership. day in hankin' up de house, ohinkin’ up crevices. choppin‘ wood an’ helpiu do ole wo- man wid her washin’. Let me hope dat none of you will be mixin up in any disgraceful puroeedings. Doan' argy polyticka, kase you doan’ know nuffin’ ’bout ’em, to begin wid. Hurrah fur no candydate. None of ’em car’ tum cents about you. No matter who am ’lected or defeated. you has got to aim your own brand an‘ butter. Principles may be worth lookin’ other, but doan’ stop if you have a two shillin’ job in sight. We will now put out do lights au’ carouse to our respectable homes." Among those who seem to be prepared to do their best to upset the quiet of the times the Kurds threaten to be prominent. The country they occupy is just such as had bred so many races of hardy warriors, and there are features of their military system which must always render them formidable to the inhabitants of any country in which society has become settled. The land of the Kurds is not very clearly defined. They run more or less wild over a stretch of territory, one part of which is nominally subject to Persia and the other to Turkey. Altogether it is reckoned that Kurdistan may be said to com- prise about 40,000 square miles of country, the greater part, if not the whole, of which is of a mountainous character. It is broken up by ranges, among the peaks of which Mount Ararat is the most famous. The higher mountain ranges and peaks are clothed with magnificent forests of oak. Lower down equally splendid forests of walnut abound. while the valleys, wherever cultivated, yield bountiful supplies of corn, hemp, flax, tobacA co, mulberries, melons, pumpkins, fruits of various other kinds, as well as a profusion of flowers, the most famous of which is a gigan- tic rose. All writers on Kurdistan mention ‘one very remarkable product of the region. That is a kind of manna, or, as it is called in the language of the country, the “ Divine sweetmeat.” The natives go out before sun- }rise, lay cloths beneath the trees, and shake ‘down the manna from the leaves. It abounds ‘chiefly on the oak trees, but is found on some ‘others, and also to some extent on the rocks. The Kurds do not devote much attention to the cultivation of the land, much of which seems capable of yielding such splendid re- sults. The tending of sheep and goats seems to be more to their taste, as it falls in to some extent at least with their roving proclivitiee. They have splendid sheep and often own large numbers of them. One or two deucons got up first,with sounds like picket filing in the distance on the eve of battle, and then a. few more got up, and the rettllng of the unyielding varnish sounded as though the fight was becoming more animated, and then the whole audience get on its feet at once with a. sound of rattling musketry. The choir sang “Hold the Fort." When the or- chestra. had concluded the people sat down gingerly. The services were short, and all went home praying for the man that painted the seata.â€"Peck's Fun. There was the queerest scene at one of the churches last Sunday. It seems that during the vacation the seats had been varnished, and somehow the varnish was not right, as it was terribly sticky. You know when you pull anything 03 sticky varnish that it cracks. Well, the audience had all got seated, when the minister got up to give out the hymn,and as the basement of his trousers let loose of the varnish on his chair there was a noise like killing a fly on the wall with a palmleai fan. The minister looked around at the chair to see if he was all present. and that no guilty man’s pants had escaped, and read the hymn The choir rose with a sound of revelry, and after the tenor had swallowed a lozenge and the bass had coughed up a piece of a frog, and the alto had hemmed, and the soprano had shook out her polonaise to see if the var- nish showed on the south side, the audience began to rise. _ But what the Kurds pride themse was on especially is their breed of horses. of which they seem to be as fond as the Arab is reputed to be. They have oxen for beasts of burden, the roughness of the country forbidding the employment of the camel to any very great extent. The horse, however, is the pride of the Kurd and the source of much of what little wealth they can boast. Their horses are small, but are said to be wonderfully active and enduring, and have long been in great demand for the armies both of Turkey and Persia. It is the great number of horses the Kurds possess and the dashing, adventurous nature of the warfare they wage when mounted on them that render them so troublesome for neighboring people to deal with. Moreover, the Kurds themselves are so given to internal strife that they are always well practiced in the use of arms. The various tribes are under despotic chieftains, each of whom has his own fortress among the rocks. and between whom wars. on some pretext or the other, are con- tinually being waged. They are given, too. to brigandage in many parts of the country, and this, of course, tends to develop the reck- less, unscrupulous daring for which these mountain warriors are famed. At the same time they are described as hospitably disposed toward those who go among them and are fortunate enough not to arouse their curiosity or cupidity. This hospitality is due to their Mohammedanism, one form of which they profess in a certain loose, unorthodox fashion. Their women enjoy, as a rule, liberties which are altogether opposed to the teaching of the Koran. A few of the women, those of the very highest rank among them, are scrupu- lous to wear the veil, but the middle and lower classes do not do so. They are often extremely beautiful when young, but are apt to wither and fade in appearance very early ‘ in life. As for the men, they are among the finest fellows in Asia. They have light com- plexion, animated expression and dark, flash ing eyes. They have, as a people, full , foreheads and finely cut features, small and l handsomely formed hands and feet, and their l incessant activity affords them muscular de- l velopment and strength, which has rendered them at all times formidable foes. Almost , every man is mounted and carries a spear about four feet long, a bow nearly six feet long, together, of course, with a quiver of arrows, and very often a sling. VARNISII ON THE CHURCH l’lL‘WS‘ THE COUNTRY OF THE KURDS. POWER OF THE ”PLUG. His explanation of the mystery did not make the matter more intelligible. Having started some wild animals, he followed the chase, all unsuccessfully, for miles before thinking of returning to the boat. When he did think of it. he began to look about him, and was mightily surprised with his sur- roundings. The country was bleak and bar- ren, nothing but volcanic rocks, without a single tree or shrub. Here and there were rents in the earth, at the dark bottom of which small ,but rapid streemlets sped tortuously along through masses of lichen, while heavy volumes of steam, impregnating 1the air with snlphurous odor,‘ rose from other rovins; giving the Swede the impres- sion that he was looking upon a. piece of the earth as it must have been before ever a. livâ€" ing creature put foot thereon. Finding that his snipmates had departed without him, Jorgenson camped out for the night. In the morning he sought for some- thing to breakfast upon; a. fruitless quest taking him to the top of a. hill, when falling backwards, he rolled down a gulch on the 18nd side, the stock of his rifle striking against Less happy was the ending of a wonderful adventure that befel Hans Jorgenson, a Swedish Whaler belonging to the White Wave, 8. California schooner employed in seal and other fishing in the North Pacific. On Sep- tember 18, 1879. the schooner being within sight of the Aleutian Islands, a boat was sent on shore for water, the crew consisting of Hans J organson and two other seamen Hans, having his rifle with him, had no sooner landed. than he went ofi in search of game, and, as he took no heed of the signal of recall, his mates returned to the ship with- out him. A furious gale sprang up, and for four days it was impossible for the White Wave to come anywhere near the island. At the end of that time a landing was effected, and J orgenson was found to be alive certainly, but most strangely altered in appearance. The spare Swede of five feet seven, with a bald pate, and a. thin straw-colored mous- tache, was transformed into aman apparently six feet high. so stout that his clothes would scarcely contain him, with his head and face covered with a. crop of flufi‘y hair. and seem- ingly ten years older than the Jorgenson who had been left behind but four'days before. A Life on n urgent-d Inlandâ€"Joule In- uunceu o! “’hvro it has not Been no Plea-nu! an n in set Down In Romanov. The delights of sohtude have been fervidly extolled by writers who took good care to keep themselves within ’ hail of the busy hum of men; but its fancied charms have 50011 pulled upon unfortuna‘tes condemned to a silent fate. either by their own whim, the tyranny of others. or circumstances over which nobody had any control. The find 0! the Queen Charlotte’s men was not so surprising as that of the Flemish sear man Pickman, when in 1616, his ship ground ea near a small island-rock between Scot- land and Ireland. Some of his men going in search of eggs, come upon a black hairy creature, who by signs entreated them to come to close acquaintance ; and finding the strange object to be really a man, they took him on bound with them to tell the skipper his story. It was a melancholy one. He and two others, occupants of the passage- boat between England and Ireland, had been captured, and afterwards cast off, by a French privateer. Having nothing eatable, save a little sugar, with them, one of the three soon died of starvation, the others lived to be driven on the island. where they built a. but out of what was left of the boat, and for six weeks lived upon sea-mews, sea-dogs, eggs and water. Then the partners in misfortune parted company. one of them disappearing. leaving his forlorn friend in utter ignorance of his fate ; he could only surmise that he had fallen into the sea while searching for eggs. Months passed, and the poor fellow lost all hope of deliverance. Winter came, and found him clothesless. Compelled to keep within the hut for days together. he only kept starva- tion at bay by catching sea-mews. as hungry as himself, by sticks thrust through the open- ing in the hovel's walls. So he kept himself alive, unt1l the accidental advent of the Lon- don-bound Flemish timber-ship released him from his dreary durance. Alexander Selkirk tried the experiment of living in solitary independence of his own option and under very favorable conditions. The island whereon he elected to abide was one of the fairest spots upon earth, blessed with a delicious climate and grateful soil. He was well provided with clothes to cover him, arms to protect him, books and tobacco to solace him. His larder was well supplied kid flesh, fish, seal and sou-lion meat, which he could season to his liking with pimento- pepper; While cabbages, turnips. radishes, parsnips, parslain, parsley and water-crass were at his command. Still it took eight months to reconcile Selkirk to his self elected lot, and after enduring it for four years. he gladly bade adieu to his Eveless paradise. A YOUTHFUL CBUSOE . Three weeks experience of crusoeing suf- ficed to bring an unwilling solitarian to death’s door, but he was a. mere lad, wanting three years to be out of his teens, when get- ting separated from his messmatesmhile seek ing wood and water on one of the Gallipagos Islands, he lost himself in tho forest. After passing an uncomfortable night there, day~ light- saw Lord roving in quest of what he might devour, and finding nothing save a big snake. unavailable for staying his appetite ; and when night came round again, he was still wandering in a maze of trees, weary with walking, and faint for lack of. food ; fearing to sleep on the ground lest he should intrude upon the privacy of some deadly serpent. This difficulty he surmounted by climbing a tall tree, and roosting in its branches, un aware that ho had a fellow-ledger in a big owl, until, on leaving his airy chamber in the morning.hc knocked the bird downmxd turnâ€" ‘ ed the accident to account by breakfasting ,upon the owl,without any further preparation Ethan stripping it of its feathers. In 1818, an American sailor was taken ofla desolate rock in the South Seas by a boat‘s crew belonging to her H. M. S. Queen Uharv lotte. Whose attention had been drawn to the spot by the smoke of a seaweed fire. He had, thxee years before, been left there with three companions, all of whom had qulckiy suc- cumbed, while he had lived on, sustaining life by feeding upon the flesh of birds. and drink- ing their blood. So the dismal days dragged on, the only event breaking their monotonous misery be- ing Lord’s nearly comlng to grief altogether in grappling with aggreat seal, rolling into the sea with it, and scrambling out alone as quickly as his weakness allowed. After this bout he contrived to crawl up the mountain again. and to his joy descried a large ship making for the island. The sight gave him new strength, and he managed to get down to the beach just as she entered the harbor. Soon a boat was lowered. and he knew no more, until his eyes opened upon a. little crowd of friendly faces. He cried out for water. and drank till he swooned again. when kindly arms carried him to the boat,and he was soon safe in the care of the famous explorer of the seas. Capt. Cook. That might Lord was out of the wood, but was not much better off, for. sleeping at the foot of a mountain, he was drenched with rain. and when morning broke was in any- thing but a condition for climbing. Climb the mountain. however, he did ; from the summit beholding the bay in which his Whaler had been, but was not. He saw a brig there, but she was making her way out. Madly he dashed down the mountain side. to gain the beach all to late, and become oblivious of his disappointment by going off in a dead faint. When he recovered his senses hunger got the better of despair, its pangs being none the less bitter from the knowledge that there was abundance of food in the waters washing his prison, and that he had neither hook to bait or bait to hook, and must, perforce, live as best he might upon berries and seal- flesh THE STORY OF JORGENSON. THE AMERICAN SAILOR. THE FLEMISH CB‘U SOE CBUEOEING. ~~A Brantford young lady is already dis- gusted with the new pOst ofiice. She says she can’tgel any more letters at the new place than she could at the old one. -~ Writing of the coming regatta, Land and Water says : “ Muscular Christianity in these isles must be retrograding if we can thus be bearded in our own den. The Australians send over a cricket team which holds its own against our very best; and athletic sports. though quite of recent date, have produced a champion, Myers by name,who,if watches are correct over there, must be a marvel from 100 yards to half amile, who can beat all recorded times hands down. Carver and Bogardue came over to wipe our eyes with the shotgun, and the American team made short work of the Irish cracks with the rifle." Azure Sky, Daflodil'a Glow, Refrigerator, Son-91 Horse. And so forth. All poets are cordially invited to come in and try the scheme. Take the el- evator. It may fall (some day.-â€"Chicago Tribune. A The Tribune has fitted up a room for the exclusive use of its poets. and has introduced its new system of rhyming charts, which are designed to aid those of our songsters who never have any difliculty 1n whooping up the sentiment, but are occasionally a little shy on the jingle part of their otherwise highly eyred- itable productions. The charts contain words that rhyme pretty well, and are adapted to any kind of poetry, from the Papa's-stepped- on-mother’s-bunion order to the weird. mow ing-macl:iue verses of Swinburne. When a poet wants something that goes along smooth 1 and easy, like Maud S. or the price of wheat, ‘ he has only to glance at the one-syllable chart which contains words like. Lime, Time. Crime. Dime. If he is in search of something with 11. little more get-up to it, we can refer to the next one. which contains words like : Item, Benison, Fly-time. Venison, Redress, Despot. Maud 8, Guess Not. If the Swinburne metre is what he want: Chart No. 3 may be studied to advantage. It reads : and breaking one of a number of pebblerlike objects, which examination showed to be a thin shell of lime or sulphur or something he could not tell exactly what. covering a quan‘ tity of jelly of alight rose-color. composed of an infinity of minute cells, through which stretch, ed, a numberof flossyligaments. Taking a small quantity on his finger, he applied his tongue to it and swallowed some, but was so die- gusted with the taste that he pitched the shell away. and went back to his post. to watch for the White Wave. After watching for some hours the hungry fellow fell into a deep sleep, from which he was awakened by a sensation similar to that he had experienced years be fore when pulled, half drowned, out of one of his native fjords; but his hunger had one, he felt refreshed, and found he 00‘ Walk without fatigue. and naturally gave the nause- ous jelly the_credit of it. His companions. however, soon showed symptoms of insubordination, and at length, tired of the life they led, departed in the host. Alone in his glory. the captain spent his time preparing clothes from the skins of seals and collecting fuel for the winter, never omitting to ascend a hill once or twice a. day on the chance of descrying a ship. Afl‘gr dwelling thus in solitude for some months! Bernard was rejoined by the runaways, who had found they could not get on without h Their return was not an unmitigated bles ing. One of them planned his murder, for whi the captain had him conveyed to a small island in Quaker Harbor, and left there, un- til three months of his own society brought him to express penitence for his purposed crime. After this things went smoothly. until an English Whaler took the party off, and ended their two years’ trial of Crueoeing on New Islandâ€"All the Year Around. Next day he visited the gulch again. and took another taste of the jelly ; again came a deep sleep, from which he awoke. as before, free from hunger or weariness ; but to” his as- tonishment his clothes had become so tight that he could hardly move in them. his sea- boots seemed a few sizes too small, and the sleeves of his knitted jacket were almost up to his elbows. Stooping to pick up his rifle. he found that too had shrunk, or rather that he himself had stretched and grown under the 'influence of the wonderful food, and that his physical powers had Increased with his bulk. While testing the latter by flinging pieces of mock into the sea, Jorgenson beheld the White Wave bearing down the coast. signaling wit the small brass piece she carried. He repli'e with his rifle. and after filling his pockets with the mysterious pebbles, made for the beach. and soon was welcomed by his puzzled mess- mates. Capt. Barnard, a victim of ungrateful mis- trust. found companionship in misery more troublesome than comforting. He coma mended anlAmerican ship in 1813, and hap- pened to be at New Island, in the Falklands, when an English ship was wrecked there; the crew and passengers, numbering thirty, get- ting safely to land. Capt. Barnard took them all on board, intending to leave them at a Brazilian port, and to obtain sufficient supplies. went on shore with four men on hunting excursion. While he was so engaged, the English sailors, fearful of being carried to Amer- ica as prisoners of war, cut the cable, and made ofi with the ship. The astonished skip- per took the matter philosophically. He set his men to work at once to build a house of stone, strong enough to withstand the storms of winter. A small plantation of potatoes, supplied the party with a fair substitute for bread ; and by storing up albatross eggs. and catching a pig now and then, they contrived to live tolerably well, all things con- sidered. . Should our readers discredit this strange tale, which reads like a forcastle‘ yarn it must he confessed. here is the and end. of it. " literally transcribed,” says the San Fran» oisco Chronicle, from the log of the White Wave : “ October 3, 1879.â€"Lat. 57.47 N Long. 144.10 W. Jorgenson is dead. and I don't know what to make of it. Ever since he came aboard from the island his health has been good. but the remarkable swelling has gone on until yesterday we were obliged to bring him up on deck as he grow'd so that I was afeared we should not be able to get through the companion-way. I was sitting beside him when he died, and had just ask him how do you feel now. He said all over pins and needles like. I said no pains be- sides? He said no. but I feel like as i1 everything was a stretching and growing in- side of me. Guess I’m poisoned. I said I guess so. too. Just then I heard a crack inside of him, then another and another, three in all. He clasped his hands to his heart, his chest, his stumick, gave one groan and died.” H. M, S. Rr‘cruit, venturing to help himeelf to the captain’s épruce beer, was punished by being set on shore on the uninhabited Island of Sombrero. Doubtlese Capt. Lake repented the deed, when, on his return £04119 same latitude some two months afterwards the boat sent to bring the ofiender on board again returned with the report that he was nowhere to be found. At any rate the captain had good cause to repent it a littie later on, for, upon the matter coming to the knowledge of the Admiral on the West Indian Station, Lake was tried by court-martial and dismisned from the service. At home Sir Frances Burdett brought the case before Parliament, and a search was instituted forthe missing man. re‘ sulting in his being brought to England, in October, 1809. He had lived on the Rock of Sombrero for nine days, eubeisting npon lim- pete and birds’ eggs, when luckily for all concerned, he was taken off by an Ameri- can schooner and landed at Marblehead, Mass. THE INHUMAN CAPTAIN. Involuntary Crusoes have mostly became so from pure accident but- there are some in- stances_ to_ the contrary. Seaman Jefl‘roy o! ADVENTURE OF A BOAT’B CREW. A POET'S CIURNE It