Chm-lea Anal, :3 medical student of Buf- falo, has put 1n circulation a allver dollar whlch he recovered by successful vivisec- tion from the stomach of a favorite span- lel belonging to Mr. John Ullrlch. The dog was given the dollar to carry in his mouth to market and swallowed it on the way. A Suicide‘s Strange Story. A person who confesses to have passed All his life in attempting to get rid of it can hardly be congrstuleted on employing his time usefully. The individual in question, s rich Swedish :gentleman, residing at Brookton, might, one would heve thought, hed he really been so bent on destroying himself, have found ways end means of doinq so in spite of the " wetchfulness of anxious friends, or the impediments osst in his wny by fete." According, however, to the account writ- ten by his own hand, just before a last and successful attempt et suicide, from his childhood till sdvsnced manhood he had but one ideaâ€"to kill himself, end was so unfortunate ss to fail to sstisfy the ruling desire of his life until he had necrly completed his sixtieth year. As a child, he reletes, he twice threw himself into the water. to be rescued by a. pssser- by. As a. young men and during middle ego, he made in All thirty ettempts with the pistol, with the rope, with poison, end in other ways. The bullet, he ex- plsins, played him false, only wounding him ; the rope was out by a well‘inten- tioned friend just before life was extinct ; the stomach pump, promptly spplied, counteracted the effect of the poison ; the window thrown open at the critical mo- ment saved him from euffocstion from the fumes of charcoal. All comes to him, however, who waits, and after a lifetime spent in vain eflorts to cut short an exist- ence sppsrentlyburdensome, this 'weelthy Swedish gentlemn has accomplished his design by a. strong dose of rat poison. “ That's why I say a man can do a thing after he is dead." " Now, I reason that thing out. this way: Bill was determined to convince that Mexican that he did'nt know as much as he thought he did. That thought was in his mind when he was shot, and, though kill. ed inetanfly, his wishes were carried out after death. Bill was game, too, and I believe if he hadn't realized that he ween dead man when shot, and hadn’t wanted to win the Mexicnn’s money, he would have grabbed his gun and done some exe- cution with it. “We were all so excited when the shot was ï¬red than we didn’c know what. to do, and, as Bill continued to turn the card, we supposed he hadn't been hit, but; we found out diflerently when we examined him. He was shot directly through the heart. “ Bill commenced pulling the card out slowly. The Mexican was watching. There were lwo black spots showed up, and Bill's hand stopped. Quick ass flash the Mexican drew his gun and ï¬red. Bill never moved in his chair, but his right hsnd kept its slow motion until the card was drawn from the pack and held up to View. It was the seven of spades. The hsnd moved slowly back again and the card was laid on the table. Bill then leaned bsek in his chair and shut his eyes. “ ‘Done,’ says the Mexican: who threw 8100 on the table. “I was standing right to one aide of Bill. He had the cards in his left hand, And had hold of the bottom of the cards with his right hand. The Mexican's hand wng qn_h_lg gun. “ ‘Hold Bu,’ says Bill, ’don't draw tiil I make this turn. I'll bet you $1,000 to $190,311“ _it is th_e :gzenpf spaniea. _ “The Mexican naked Blll if he would turn for $1,000. and Bill told him it didn't make any difference if he made it 3 mil- lion, as the bank was able to pay ten times bhat amount. The Mexican bet and lost. Then be accused Bill of oheatlng. Bill oalled him a liar. “One day Bill had establlshed himself in apulque shop with his cards, and was turning them for anybody who wmtedto wager a cent. There was a part of Mexican bloods in the room, and ï¬nal y they sauntered over to Bill’s table. and one of them nsked him if he would turn 3100. Bill said he would. al- though he did’nt have but 810 in the bank. 'Ihe fellow slaps down his money, Ind Bill wins. That mode the Mexican mad, and he slaps down another. Bill wins Ignin. The third time, and Bill scoops the £110. _ A llnn shot Through the noun Playing the Game (‘onthues to Play. “I was just reading," said a welenown Denver sport. “about a man winking his eye after his heed was cut oil", and I bed In argument with Tom Rowe, who said Inch a thing was impossible. But Tom don’t know. He never saw s man's head out OE. Now, I know that I have seen something just as strange. I will tell you shoot it. Twenty yeaes ago this month there was a lot of us took a trip to old Mexico. to see what we could scoop inâ€"â€"â€" Ind, by the way, we got scoopedâ€"and went to bucking heavy on every game we could strike. Well when I started out to tell was about one of our gang, named Bill Brewster. Bill was a rattling dealer, 3 good band at short cards, and always had a poeketfnl of money tlll he got struck on Mexican Monte. Talk about your greaaer'a lnfatustlcn for the game. I never saw one of them who could hnld a marker to Bill. He'd get broke. Then he’d get a pack of cards and deal himself. He'd turn the cards for lnybody or anything when he we! busted. Sometimes he’d make a. raise and (10“) and go to playing fax-o, where he was, as i rule, lucky. But no sooner did he get a blg stake than he would tackle monbe. And would invariably get, downed. Us boys tried to persuadehlm tostick toawhlte unn’a game. but no. he wouldn't have lb. and we: almoat all the time in a chronic lute of lmpecunlonlty. MEX [CAN MONTE. “ I wouldn't worry about the cholera, dear,†said a wife to her husband; “ it isn’t at all likely that it will reach this country.†"I don’t know about that,†he replied, nervously; †“ it might break out at any moment, and we might have a frightful time; 1â€"1 thin: I had better pay the back pew-rent anyway.“ M. Viennet, lwag, asked Hugo one day who was the greatest, poet of his time whereupon Hugo dryly answered: “Al- fred de Muscat is the second greatest poet. " Victor Hugo was always convinced that he would meet all his friends in a future world. He was equally sure that he had always existed from the antediluvian times when the Creator placed him on earth. He believed that he would exist forever, inasmuch as he felt in h1s soul thousands of hymns, dramas, and poems that had never found expression. When the athe- ists would say to him : “The proof that you will not exist in the future is that you did not exist in the past." Hugo would answer : “Who told you I did not exist in the past centuries? You will say that is the legend of the ages. The poet has written: ‘Life is a fairy tale twice written. He might have said a thousand times written. There is not an age in which I can not ï¬nd my spirit. You do not be iieve in the doctrine of surviving person- alities for the reason that you do not re- collect your anterior existence. But how can the recollection of vanished ages re- main imprinted on your memory when you do not remember a thousand and one scenes and events of of your present life '2 Since 1802 there have been ten Vic- tor Hugos in me. Do you think that I can recall all their actions and all their thoughts 1 The tomb is dark, and when I shall have passed the tomb to emerge into light once more all these Victor Hugos will be almost wholly strangers to me. but it will always be the same soul. it must, we fear, be admitted, that ex- cept with a very few men upon whom the feminine si ‘,e of Christianityâ€"the side which preaches resignationâ€"has taken a strong hold, or who realize with painful thoroughness the horrors inseparable from battle. war, as such, has for culti- vated mankind a distinct intellectual charm. It attracts them as nothing else does, until in its presence they cannot turn their eyes away, and every other sub- ject of thought becomes comparatively insipid, and this even if the war is not one in which they are personally con- cerned. Of course if they are their ab- sorption is easily explained. The results of a war are so tremendous and far reach- ing, they affect all intevests so deeply, and they may involve the future of a country so inextricably, that it is impossible for men who have any patriotic or political imagination at all not to study its pro- gress, and even its minute details, with concentrated attention. One big blunder in war may prostrate a nation. Even when, as is rarely the case. invasion is out of the question, the incidents of a cam- paign, the conduct of the troops, the cr- pacity or imbecility cf the generals, be- come matters of personal and vital inter- estâ€"a victory seems a pleasure beyond all others, a defeat a cruel and individual catastrophe. Men‘s interests, their hopes, their virtues, their foibles, and their fears are so involved in a war in which the na- tion is engaged that every turn of fortune is an event of personal moment, and the excitement becomes as intense as if the onlooker was himself engaged. Men have been known to go mad with joy after a great victory, and to sicken mor- tally of the grief produced by a great defeat, and this in cases when, as it turned out, neither victoror defeat lin- gered long in the general memory. There is nothing to be explained' in that kind of interest, but the intellectual charm of war extends much furthur than this. Wars which are not ours interest as near- ly as much as wars which are. Scores of thousands of Englishmen followed the great American civil war with an attention which missed no detail, and the European world watched the duel between Frame and Germany with a gaze which was al- most painful in its intensity of watchful- ness. The journals, which always reflect the popular curiosity better than the pop- ular thought. were full of nothing else, and the excitement was felt as keenly by men ordinarily devoted to study as by men who had been soldiers orâ€"~a curiously common case in anaiion so devoted to civil pursuitsâ€"wore soldiers by inner pre- possession. It is usual to ascribe this ‘ attraction to unconcious self-interest, a desire that one or the other side should win ; but we do not think that has very much to do with the matter. The on- lookers in a war take sides, no doubt, often enthusiastically, and with a parsis tence which it is not easy to explain ; but it is not because of their hopes or fears that they become so absorbed. They are hardly less attracted by the wars of his- tory, which they ought to regard without passion ; and there may be keen excite- ment, though they fail to decide which side they wish to win. The English people in the Franco-German war swerved dis- tinctly from one side to the other; but they watched Gambetta and Chsnzy with as much interest as the had watched Bismarck and Von Molt 9. Moreover, invisible wars. though they may strongly affect the interests of men, do not exer- cise this attraction. The War waged by France in Ton quin has hardly been watch- ed at all, while the two great Chinese wars of our day have hardly received anything beyond a. casual mention, and never, even when in progress, excited the slightest popular attention. Yet the war in Ton- quin was in many respects the most im- portant colonial war of our time, and the two Chinese wars were, in the strange- ness cf their incidents, and their awful consumption of human life, among the phenomenal occurrences of the century. The Inmllectual Charm of War. Hugo's Strange Belief. “ Yel, pretty sleek. But do you mean to any that the wind blew in the same direction every Saturday night during all that time 1" “ Of course I don't.†“Well, how did you manage it those night: when it blew in the other direc- tion '1" “ Easy enough. I had another girl at a station ï¬fteen mile! east.†“ The prairies of the West are great places for wind." said a telegraph opera- tor ; “ I used to have a station out in N ebruh, right out on the open prairie, end the way the wind blew there was a caution. But it was a lucky wind for me. At a. stetion thirteen mlles west my girl lived, and as I had no Sunday trains or buisness of any kind 1 used to go up there and stay over Sunday. But a living horse from Seturdny night to Monday morning cost me too much money, and so I rigged up a sail on an old tie car. All I Ind to do Saturday night was to hoist my sail, push that tie our out on the main track, 1nd in less than an hour I was at my journey’s end. For more than a. year I went to see my glrl every Saturday night by means of that sail car. Pretty sleek, wasn’t it 7" Figures that are both big and interest- ing are found in comparing the passenger trafï¬c of the London underground and the New York elevated railway systems. The amount of patronage bestowed and the enormous growth of this patronage may be fairly taken as the measure of public appreciation. In 1879 a total of 91,420,178 persons made use of the London underground lines, while in 1884 the number had increased to 114,447,614; during the corresponding ï¬ve years the New York elevated railroads showed an increase from 46,045,181 to 96 702,620. While London still remains a good distance ahead in the grand totals, as It does in population, the ratlo of increase was large~ ly in favor of the American metropolis; in other words, while the underground showed an lnerease of 23,027,336 in ï¬ve years, the elevated had extended its ï¬gures by 50,667,439, at which rate it will not take New York long to catch up with London. The boundaries of the Congo Free State comprise an area. of about 900.000 square miles ; it is therefore about 4Q times the size of France. Of this vast region, Mr. Stanley says, 600,000 square miles are of unsurpassed fertility and the remainder less valuable, but still of excellent quality. The territory comprises over 41,000 square miles of lain s, besides nearly 4,000 stet- ute miles of navigable rivers. In all this long distance of 4,000 miles the only im- portant interruptions to free passage are Stanley and Lubilsah_Fells. The largest distance traversed by an arrow on reoored is 972 yards, which in- (radible distance wss accom plished by the Sultan (If TurkeyIin 1798, in the presence of Sir Robert Ainslie, Ambassador to the Sublime Porte. a feat searcer surpassed by three attributed to Robin Hood and his right hand man, John Nailor. There is a tradition of an attorney at Wigan who shot an arrow at mile in three flights. It is reported that he sat on a stool, and had the centre of his bow fastened to one of his feet, that be than elevated his bow to an angle of forty-ï¬ve degrees, and pulled the string with both hands. In 1792, Mahmoud Efl'endi, secretary to the Turk- ieh Embassy at London, shot an arrow 415 yards, partly against the wind. and 480 yards with the wind. This he did publicly in the grounds adjoining Badford House. The story of British shipping for the nine yours from 1875 to 1885, as revealed by recent sbstistics, presents a melancholy record of wrecks and loss of human life. The number of British and colonial regis- tered vessels utlerly wrecked was 9,103, the sailors lost 18,349 and the passengers 2.158. There is a class of British ships which ere described as unregistered. and of these 788 went down. drowning 815 niiors end 1‘9 passengers. To these must be added dissaters occurring in rivers sud harbors, which include 427 vessels, 252 sailors and 802 passengers. In all these cases the loss of vessels was tot-.1. There were besides 12% vessels psrbislly wrecked, and involving the loss of 1,807 hands and 283 pusengers, mak- ing in all I loss of 21,224 hands and 3,392 passengers in the nine years. The Innnel supply of eggs In the United States in pleoed 3t 530,000,000000 dozen. which an the ordinary price would be worth £| 6,000‘000. an York noievea eeoh dey 4,000 barrels of 70 d( zen, or 28),» 000 dozen in all. Foreign eggs arrive there daily to the number of 10.000 dx 1 11. All the rest are supplied from the Smtes. No duty is imposed on foreign eggs. The public baths of Vienna are said to be the ï¬nest in the World. The building itself, says the English Mechanic. is .sit- unted in the heart of the city, and incloses a. basin 156 feet in width by 678 feet in length, and waving in dc pub to 12 feet. The enormous quantity of water contained in this basin is renewed three times a day. The whole establishment has accommnde- tinn for 1,500 persons, and is open from May 1 to Oct. 31, and from ï¬ve in the morning until dusk. There is also a bath, restricted to ladies, open from 9 in the morning until 1, end the Vienna indies Ire espeoislly good swimmers. The German University Calendar for 1885 contains a. list: of 2,125 academic teachers and 27,480 students 0f whnm 7,079 are mndical or pharmmruhical. The latter Me distributed as follows: Berlin. 99$ ;Munlch, 8:9 ;Wuvz'mru, 743 ; L -ipr sic, 608 ; Griefawald, 450: Breulau, 421 ; Freiburg, 380 ; Bonn, 289 ; H.118, 282 ; Heidelberg and Konigabm'tz, erch 267 ; Tnbingen, 224 ;M:rhurg. 210 ;Sbraahurq, 191 ; Gottmgen, 189 ; Elnngen, 188 ; Kiel, 175 ; Jena. 162 ; Geiuen, 148 ; Roa- took, 71. Wind on the Prairies. STATISTICAL. There was quite a romantic phase to a marriage which occurred in Richmond, lnd., but the fact not being known, the nuptials attracted no attention at the time. The “high prin- cipals†in the transaction were Michael Daly, a middle-aged widower and well-to- do gentleman of Blnflcon, Ind., and Mrs. Mary Pulse, a fascinating grass-widow of this city. A week or so before he en- countered her photograph at the home of a. friend, and being hopelessly enamored at the sight of it, and ascertainlmg that she was a widow, he straightway wrote to his sister, who lives here, making inquiry concerning her. Learning from this reli- able source that her face was not all she possessed to recommend her, his heart was more completely enthralled than be- fore, and Sunday found him in Richmond. The one “sweet day of sacred rest" was sufï¬cient. That evening he proposed, and she as promptly consented. But she was not as impatient sbout consummstlng the holy union'as he was. He impulsive- ly proponed to complete their bliss the following day; but she reflected that she was married on Monday before. and it proved unlucky, and it wss ï¬nally ï¬xed that they would struggle on in single wretchedness until Wednesday, when the mystic words were said that made them one, and they left for Bluï¬'aon, to live to- gether until desth does them separate. We do not mine human reï¬nement in the now and her litter ; we admire them, as we look over the old fence, simply as pigs, their tiny pink feet plunging into the trough in their greed, and the little black brother trying to ï¬nd room. The beauty of the maid who bring: their food deee not leleen theirs. So the Indian in a part of nature, and is no more ridicu- lous than the smoke that curl: up from the Wigwam. or the rock and pine on the montain-llde. When we study them in their own homes, see them well fed. independent, nnembsrrassed, dressed in their elk-skins and feathers, dancing nearly nude when the November snows lie deep upon the ground, smoking their long pipes and chstving with the children about the door of the lodge, or sadly climbing the brown October foot-hills to bury a departed vil- lager on some chosen cliflâ€"then they are besutifui. It is when we detach them from all thoughts of what we would have them be. and enjoy them as part of the landscape, that they ï¬ll us with lovely emotions. The vulgar think that only roses are beautiful; but the weeds which we root up also illustrates the divine law of harmony. It is not by trying to imagine the Indian something ï¬ner than he is tht the artistic sense ï¬nds delight in him. It. is also a mistake to BuppOle that In- dians are all homely. A really handsome squaw is rare, but: there are more superb and symmetrical men among them than I have ever seen elsewhere, their beardless faces reminding one always of the antique; these are not rare, but are to be seen at every dance, where they are mostly naked, decorated in feathers and light ï¬neries. Their constant: light exercise, frequent steam-baths, and freedom from over-york, develop the body in a manner only (qual- ed, I must: believe. by the Greek. All that Rembrandt anked of the human ï¬gure wu'that it might exhibit light and shade; he never looked for pretty peoplr, but found In ahla aspect of things I life- work. It is not. neoxaary that an Indian learn to spell and make changes before we see that his long loch are beautiful as he rldea agalnat the prairie winds. A hawk is cruel, yet who has not loved to watch its spiral course in the summer heavens? It is true that, from the point of view of the civilized merchant, who loves one wo- man, lives in a stone mansion, and tastes the sweets of intellectual life, they area ssd sight, with their limited enjoyments, licentiousness, and coarse pslate s that can relish a boiled dog ; their old people blind and dirty, with brutal jams and unoombed hair, and blood on the faces of old women, who have cut themselves In mourning, sud which they refuse to wash ( 3'. But the question whether they are ï¬t to enter the kingdom of heaven is apart from that of their artistic interest. Many people fail to see this; but such persons are as badly oi! as the farmer who lived in the house of a celebrated suthor which I went to sketch. On learning my errand, the old man eyed the moss covered shingles and defective chimney with a mixed look of humour and humilistlcn, and question- ed whether ib would not be better to return in the Ipring, when he hoped to have a new house in its place! Every one who goes far West sees about thestreets of the litLle l'niil'OBd towns afew Indians. The squews are fat and prema- turely wrinkled ; the men give the impres- sion of darkmkinned tramps. and we seldom 1101 under their dirty old felt hats to Mud] Ihelr featun s. Certainly, when one ï¬rst seen these wretched creatures, and recalls the pictures in the geography, the pages if travellers. 01' the imagery which the musical and high-sounding namesâ€" such as Crow Nation or Land of the Da- kotasâ€"awoke within him When a hoy, there is some reason fur feeling as if one had been deceived, as if a false charm had been thrown around these poor brutes. This, indeed, is the feeling of most p81 pie in lihu East to day regarding Inoieus. One cannot speak nf them wntht ut the certain response, “ Well, as for me, I have not much faith in the noble red man ; and so deep is the prejudice against them that travellers who ere aware of this sentiment, and who have lived long amomz Ihe abo- riglne, knowing how mnchof interest and good there is to be told, are tempted to counterbalance prejudice with over-state- ment ; they exaggerate the beauty and suppress all mention of the ugly that is to be found in their manners and life. In reading Catlin. one is oppressed with a certain partinlity, a constant tendency to throw into relief all their good, and to subordinate the bed. Captured By :1 Photograph. An Artist Among the Indians. The cheerful alaority with which a young man will guide his best girl towards a milliner’a show-window before they are married in cqualled only by the mar- ve lous skill with which he will steer her away from If: after £110 is his wife. We have talking pianos and dumb pianos now, but what the youth of this country really yearns fox-is a self-acting piano that will keep right on playing “Sweet Violets" and the “Plzzicatl†polka loud enoughto be heard out inthe library while the young folks are sitting in the parlour talking philosophy and looking over the photograph album. A writer in the Current nuggelta that we should have a “ language of chain." If chair: had a language that we could un- derstand, we Ihould lreqnenbly hen the big rocking-chic in the parlor occupied by lovers complain of being overworked and exhausted next morning. I heard a pretty girl lay once that she had been devotedly nought: by young Mr. L. for four years. She was fond of him and admired him for his many excel- lent qualities, but she ï¬nally let him go because, as she pub lb, he never once had ‘nhe courage to even squeeze her hand. “ Why la 11*. called honeymoon 7†ask: an exchange. Honey, because it in full of cells ; and moon, because it “ comes high.†Throw another one at. us. Emerson says : “ All mankind love: a lover." It may be no ; buc if it is, why is it that so many fathers wear copper-toad boots and give savage bull-dog! the run of their front yards at night 3 Eulalinâ€"“ So you sit: last; succeeded in bringing young De Rich to the popping point 1" Edibbâ€" “ Yes, but it was a tight squeeze.†A little cold cream is good for chapped lips. That's the reason the girls are al- ways leading the footsteps of their beans to the confectionery saloon. Pancras, one small underground kitchen, only six and a half feet high, was inhabit- ed by nine persons. One point on which there was strong evidence was that to promiscuous overcrowding im morality, and that of the very vilest kind, was largely due. Nevertheless, the commis- sioners “feet bound to put it on record that while the evidence before them re- veals an undoubtedly bad state of things, they ï¬nd that the standard oi morality among the inhabitants of these crowded quarters is higher than might be expected, looking at the surroundings amid which their lives are passed." Oval-crowding is also the source of much ill-health and in: fantile mortality, besides much suffering among little children which does not ap- pear in the death-rate at all. 7 Of the moral efl'ects of overcrowding the report says zâ€"I‘he oversrowd id at ndition of some single rooms occupied by families in St. Luke's has already been mentioned. In some cas- s wh;re grown up sons and oanghters sleep in the same room lodgers. are taken in in addition to the regular in- mates, a fact wh.ch greatly increases the tendency to immorality. The Rev J. W. Horrley, chaplain of the Cierheuwell priâ€" son, has made a study if crime :which 0111163 under his personal notice, and he not only says he entertains “the very strongest opinion†that overcrowding is a great cause of immorality. but he goes on to decia-e that every case of incest he has ever come across, with one exception, hus been traceable to the one-room system‘ The rector of Christchurch, Spitalï¬elds, is equally positive. STRUCTURAL AND SANITARY DEFECTS. In addition to overcrowding, the evils of sanitary and structural defects in dwel- lings are also strongly insisted on. As re-- gards drainage in London, the improve- ment during the present generation has been enormous, and instances are given of the horrible state of things that form- erly prevailed. Nevertheless. t1: ore is still much room for improvement in the mat- ter of ashpits and dnstbins. The metro- politan water supply, too. is better than it was, but its inadequacy is still the cause of much unhealthiness and misery. Closet; accommodation is also very defective in spite of the powers of local authorities. In Clerkenwell there are cases as described where there is not more than one closet for sixteen houses. In a must in West- minster a witness stated that there was only one for all the houses in the street, thirty or forty people inhabiting each house, and that it was open and used by all passers by. In other parts of London a similar state of things was said to exist, compared with which the one closet accommodation to each tene- ment house of many families is a satis- factory arrangement. Noxious trades, too are a source of insanitary conditione, especially when carried on in unhealthy dwellings. Attention is called to the existence of cellar dwellings contrary to law. For instance, in Draper's place. Si... ANTE-HONEYMooN HAPPEN- INGS. A surtllns Condition ofAll'slrs Agni: the Poorer Chan-I. The report of the Royal Commission on the housing of E mlano's poor, contains: some startling conï¬rmation of statements. made in the phamphlets called “The cry of outcast London.†Proceeding to an- alyze the vuluminous evidence taken in the course Lf their protracted inquiry, the commissioners remark that the ï¬rst Witness, Lord Shaftesbury â€"expressed the opinion, as the result of max-1y sixty years' experience, tl‘at, however great the im- provement in the condition oi the London, poor, “overcrowding has become more serious than it ever WM." Iudeed, the assertion of a clergyman from the Central district that the average is ï¬ve families to six rooms, is stated to be “ under the mark rather than an exaggeration." That the evil exists in many provincial towns, however, there is a good deal of evidence given to show. OUTCAST LONO0N.