JV ‘J‘ .. ... w "0‘1,i hhiuk I’ni In. little put] out, and perhup a I’m anxious about nameâ€"chats all. " D “Oh, he's all right,†said her brother. “ Why, he’d stay away for a week on the chance of ï¬nding a lot; at dirty old stones or a bit: of broken pottery. Besides, he often goes away, Mays later than he intended, and ms up at some fexlow's house for the night. wBut what we you crying about '2†“ I’m not; crying, Dick." "‘ I'll (Meat you were when I came in, and your eyes are red now."y , .. _ . . '- 11111 , ,1 _._J 5Mary returned early from the cricket:- ï¬eld. for her uncle might. come back at any moment, and she knew that: it irritated and put him out to ï¬nd the house empty. He had not, however, returned, so sh: seated her- self as the Window, Which looked over ,the neglected expaase of a once pleasant lawn, bounded lay a. ruddy old well, aboun which clambered in unkempt profusion plums and pears and nectarinea, ml’l reviewed lhe events which were taking place in her livtle world. The result of an hour’s meditation over Claude’s not,unnatuml impatience and dimppolntmant, and the state of affairs benween her unale and her brother, so evidently getting from bad to worse, was that] she had a good cry, and was found with her face buried in her hands by Dick on his return from the match. “ Your smack, Dick ‘3 Why, you havenâ€™ï¬ Ibeen hurt, have you ‘3 ’ asked Mary anxious- y. “ No, no ; I mean my hlb. You know that the wickets were pitched closz-r up to the garden wall than usual. Well, they put on alows, anal I got; a half-volley to xqum'o leg which I couldn’t: rsals'a, so I put all my bsc'f into it and send the ball spanning away over the wall. " Lost hull†of course i0 was, and 1 got six for it, for you mighh 100k for a week in the garden Without ï¬nding a cricket "hamâ€"Where’s the old. man 2" ":‘Not you. That beggmr Shute’s been hare.’ Lupky I wasn’t in." _ u 1 ',,L “Because I hate fellows of his kidney, poor as church mice, who come spongizrg and sneaking and cadging about; for what â€My can get). He’s already gob round tha um man, and he‘s got round you, and he’a vmiy gun to get: round me, and his artful name i»: won.â€"â€"Now, if it was s. chap like back S'mddlea of Pommel Hall, l’d any nothing. He’s the sort: of man I’d chooae for a hrothbr in-law ; and he’d stand on his hand tor a week, with a little encoumgemem “ I think you are very unkind and unjust about ‘ than beggar Shune.’ as you .are Messed to call him; and I’m sure I donâ€™ï¬ know why.†r. u , u! Ixzdu. ""iI'Ha'hggsaz game back yet. and m get ting Aanxigug.†.. . ‘ . n --| 1 ,,, L.._LL-.. ..V,-.., n “ Oh, vjv‘e via-gig; -by ï¬ve wicketn.â€"â€"You didnr’t see my spagk,‘ did yuu ‘3" A "v. ‘ n _ “'Well,†she said with assumed sprightli- neaa, “ and who won. 2’" ,. ... w tram you - ‘TMJL S riddles is noh 11 mm to my taste. tie hum only got; two topicsâ€"sporting and Mabl a †"Ami rwo very good topics they are ;beb- tear ixmn rhymes and old stones and nigger larguages and that sort of thing. All I can 9w 15 that Shute shan’n be your husband with my consent. ’ Mmy's heath was full, and ahe was long- ing m speak up in vindloation of her lover; â€but she knew that it would not only be fruit:- chwss,but that it would serve to anger her hotâ€"headed brother still more against him ; so aha remained silent. A5 Dick insisted, they did not wait dinner, Mid had a. silent, uncomfortable sort of maul together ; chk being rather ill at case, be- amuse he was perhaps conscious of having walked too freely and violently upon a matter 'Aw'nich in reality was hub of liutle concern to him ; Marv unsettled nud anxious on no- noun‘h of her uncle. “If he is not hrm? man," she said in re- goly to her brother’s. {xhorteï¬ons not to be silly about; nothing, “I shall. he sure what: nhera is something wrong. I know that formerly he used sometimes to stay away mt night; without having given us notice, hut that was when he was stronger, and he him not done lb for at least a year.†u. allu- So she hastened homewards again; bus her uncle had nob returned, and 9.3 in; was getting dark, her anxiety became mere intense. He was an old man, and it: was 'quite possible that: in order to save the train (are, he might) have attempted to walk the ï¬ve miles to Bury Hill ; and that, in such a, onely part of the country, he might: have {wen seized with a ï¬h or have broken a. blood vessel without any one being near to " nln him. uu.’ uvv my..- -. .V. Dick sauntered away after dinner to play Mlliarda with a neighbouring Squireen. "Mary hurried off down to the railway station 130 ix quire: if her uncle had gone bv tmin anywhere, for she knew that if he had done as he imended, gone with the antiquaries, “Jim distance was too fan: for him to waJk. In reply to her question. the station- master said that he had only issued a ticket â€no one gentleman, and tbab was to Mr. Shute, who had gone to London by the three o'clock “drain. p u..." Remain in the house alone in company with these and other dreads of v. similar ï¬mmcter she could not. 20 she 58111) a ser- vant with a. moi-usage to Mr: Richard that) he should come home at: once. Half an hour elapsca bnfore Dick arrive-j, and he was in no gentle mood at being d3 muu uv v“..- ... _V r. tuxbed in his evening‘s amazement: fcr‘iwha‘rv he: considered the foo‘ï¬ah whim of a m PVOUS girl. - uv .v " Dick,†Isak} him aiwtrr, “ I am sum them is aomething, wrong. Uncie has never been oub so late before Without letting us know. I’ve been to the station, and he hasn’t been there. No one hls seen him about mg; ".'illage.†i;“Well than,†said Dick, †if he u’aiï¬n‘t :1 with the antiquarimn Ju‘nnuien, ard ismu’t .. .en the train. and lmm’t been seen in the "t age, he’s Bomevrhere about the gvounds 'c- era’s plenty of roam for him on ï¬fry acrea? :5 land.†" Pcrhapï¬ mt thc oh? éumzni'Z‘housn, 'Eaï¬d n! ise.’ “ The last pm J go when ï¬rm: \5 911,†said D:0k bur, 1V My was: m 1 d, to 30 m1“ ‘,_=;{ th: t Dick gotaimw n, .1 \‘m‘ h. L-‘iu‘cer close at his heels for fright and nervousn; ;,flL‘ 1941 the way through the bushes 9115‘. thicx CHAPFER II. WHO DID 1T 57 oh? manni":‘»housn, '5353 Ten us go ma“ and unjust BY E. T. ABET. undergrowth, silent and weird in the faint sickly light of the rising moon, towards the old summer-house. “Dick, Dick 1†whisp Bred the girl, net'z‘ng hiz hrni. “in is a. dreadful thought], but; do you think there has been any crime commit ted?“ “Crime! You mean do I think he has been murdared? Certainly not. What earth- ly object could any ono have in murdering a poor old harmless man like uncle? How- ever, you stay here. I’ll leave the lanuern ; 1n: UVXLl, yUu ave-J uULL‘. A. IA .uwvu ~nv nuuvvnu , I can ï¬ne my Way back easily enough. 1’“ gas some men to help us take him into the house, and then I’ll go for Dr. Waller : he’ll say at once whah has been the cause of death.†So he started off, leaving MAI-y moaning and crying by the siue of the bod) , and. in a. very short time returned wihh a. couple of men, by whose aid in was carried into the house. The doctor examined the body, and cauld ï¬nd no traces Lf violence ; but when he came to the head, he pointed out the Wound behind the ear, that: must: have been the result: of a. tremendaus blow, sufï¬cient, he said, be have killed instantaneous-y a much younger and stronger man. In had not been such a blow as would have been caused in falling. he said, but a cleliherately aimed blow. “ in short," he summed up, “ I am afraid there hale been foul-pSay, and it will be my (Lucy tn communicate my suspicious at once to the pn- lice.“ lck, D ck Ԡcried the girl. “He may nab be dead ! You must get glaalp 1 As quick as you cam . them maybe a. chance.â€"-â€" 0 uncle ! my dear old uncle. "’ Dick placed his hand on the white cheek, and shook his head."1‘here is so chance, he said in a 10W voice; â€he is as cold as marble, He must have had a ï¬t, poor old uncie for he has fallen sideways irom the cnéur." A quarter of an hour’s walk broughh them to the summer-house, Mu mhle-down, rickety old structure, abaudinq on osmall cpsn space amide: the trees, and facing a quiu'a pool of dark water which extended. as far as the boundarywall, some thirty yards distann, long emceabandoned to rats and bats, bun by reason of its solitude, much frequented by old Jevhro Suntan, who ofbeu passed the long hours of an entire summer day here in company with a favorite volume from the dusky, dusty shelves of his library. The place barely stood bogelhex‘, for the thatch ed roof had peeled off in a dozen places, and *he rats had burrowed holes all about: the flooring ; but cld Jethro would not have it touched wfrom sentimenh, he saidâ€"from motives of parsimony, is was generally .be- lievzd. The my of lantern light thrown into the building showed a dark 1113153 on the floor. Mary uttered a cry of horror, and in a moment was kneeling beside the help lees body of bar uncle. Dick ntoou‘ like a man in a trance, hi9 wide-open eyes ï¬xed on Elle inert heap, the lantern trembling in his ands. “ My God 1†exclaimed D‘ck, “and I quarrelled witja km] to the very mst. ' ’ ‘ 1 And the stalwm‘fl young athlete. who had never ahada nam- aince his mother’s cofï¬n had been cwried cub of the house, threw him- nalf info a. chair and sobbed bitterly: Mary was calm and quiet in her grief, ' so Im anon quiet: than her brother was sur- prisggi. ‘ “Mary, †said Dick pres-entiy, “we must motlemvo a about; unburned to come at the root of this. Who could possibly have done this ?“ Mary was looking uh him with a strange qurstior iug look. Then she took his arm, 11nd said: "Dick, in is a harrihle question, but I must ask it. Do you know anything about bhis ‘3†“I I I I†almost shriekad the young man. â€"â€"“M&ry, do you mean to 415k me if I have done this ‘2 Oh, no, no ! But I shall be an» pected ; I know than. Every one knows. of like quarrels between me and my uncle. Every one knows that: I have a.“ uncontroil- able vemper, and they will my shah We had a qugrrel, and that I struck him dead 1 But Mary, aluhough you do think so badly of me, you do not believe that I could be capable of such a deed ? Say than you don’t I†"OE course I believe you, Dick. and I don‘t: think badly of ycu as you say; hm the thought :1 id fllBh across me thsm perhaps. uncle had met you coming from cricket, had reproached you for having leis business, and that yceu had replied, andeut no, you could not have done in, I am sure." “It in too late now to think of searching,†saitl Dick ; “bub to men-ow, as soon as it is light, I will go down to the summer-house and look for some evidence of the murderer. Anything will serve as a clueâ€"footmarka, something dropped in the hurry of flight), the smallest clue will be sufï¬cient. And yet I cannot, conceive who could have any- thing to gain by murdering one who, strange and unpopular as he might have been, never did harm to any one. Gain could not) have been the object, for poor old Uncle Jethro was too careful to go about with anything worth robbing about: him except his watch. We shall ï¬nd that in the summer-house, l have no doubt, for you know he ulwaya used to read with it: placed on the table l‘eaide him.†So they took a. parting look at the poor body stretched on the bed in his own room, and having, according to local auntom, piacad four candles lighted in the room, turned the pictures with their faces to the wall, and reversed the looking glam, betook themaelvea to such sleep as they could much ler such terrible circmmtmcea. But one face: haunted Mnry hhxou'V‘t’out ibu’r 10:35; 330111â€"1112 face was that 01 Ciaude $131113, ï¬nd on the dark brow 11w flaw ‘12:) deep hmndoi 'siu. (TO LE COFTRN‘L'FD.) A Precedent. Our own Htfle boy had a fashion 0 f imid in; "pr Arm meet ,ingu a comer of the it: Bur: mnm 22m! pram eth'i inn stanmcti: J, NOW." . t_hc tax/oak}, Bit}; :2 z â€1. or swim _ '_ . mm: on lam-es rzw‘ “wrdi.,, pl .ayer: (arm 0t. wrivm 251311 (31" min, mmz- gmmm Hays ‘ 0., Thames sure!" "m m; 1-...sr; b. {01.19, tmï¬- schema for setnling the water iron: 0? Toron- to to the sat-isfactwn of (2‘)â€. parties. m ma I'IL'E). en 1‘ The Luger proportion of girls who remain unmarried are those who have gone to work when girls and become more or less independent in business or profession. The successful business or proteasional woman is not so ready to hamper herself and curtail her freedom of action by marriage as the girl whose life interest centers in some man’s ufl'action and in bar home. Love, marriage. maternity may come to the woman of business or profession. But? they do not make up the entire foundation of her contemmenn 361 they do for the woman for whom they constitute the sum total of existence. The young man of moderate means is not Kep‘a from marriage solely because he can not ï¬nd a prudent sali- sacriï¬cing wife, as so many latter day reasoners argue. The modern young man is not especially eager to limit} his individual expenses, deprive himself of the pleasures and luxuries he can provuie for himself alone upon his income in order to support a wife. He must be very much in love, indeed, when he will jump out of the $1,000 or $1,500 frying-pan of bxchelorhood into the ï¬re of matrimony on the same amount. When he contemplates the Winsome creature he has asked to be his very own it is seldom in immediate connec' tion with the marriage service. In fact, his mental picture of the wedding day 18 apt. to stand afar (if in t hedim future framed by the possibility, †When I go: well ï¬xed†or “ When I get a raise." EiIlier Men or Women Are to Blame For the Changed Matrimonial Con-litmus. If certain man and women prefer existenca in harness to the yoke of wedded lifu and can be of more use to themselves and beneï¬t to the rest; of humanity unmarried than married there is no reason ‘or considering Lhis a state of misfartune. It is quite the fashion of would-be poliniosl economists when deploring the decrease of the marriage ratio to plsco the responsibility Upon the daughters of wealthy fathers who would rather remain under parental luxury than to take some poor young man by the hand and go forth as his helpmnte to build a. home and competency. Matrimon- ially disposed youths are represented by them as deterred from entering the Boats of their desire because of the extravagant habits of the girls who twist) their heart:- sbringl inm hard knots by their allurmg glsnces.» Now this aophistry [a the rankcst non sense. The daughters of wealthy man are like the wealthy men themselvesâ€"in the minority. The average and general girl is not‘me child of riches. Neither is in the wealvhy maiden, as a. rule, who remains unwedded. She has suitors galore. L she doc: not choose a husband for herself of whom her parents approve or mko, Willy~ nlily, whomsoever she has set her affections uyon wlbliouh their bleming they invariably arrange an alliance for her suitable in point of social and commercial standing with her position. The rich girl seldom develops into the “ old muid.†He is ev'é'n more reluctant to assume the remonibilities of married life than the girl. Upon the girl alone, as upon woman {421138 hisbox‘y has been kept: by mam, the present» time philosopher places the blame of the falling off mmrimouial ratio. This theorist forgets thaw thn barbed-ism that ones cast the shadow of oblcquv upon the unmarried women: of maturity or old age has dissolved and disappeared m the light of advancing civilization. That all woman were destined to be wives and mothers was for so many centurizs re- garded M the luv of nabure and was huch a tzhroughly accepted creed that: the utter- ance of facts to disprove this arrangement was almost regarded as blasphemy. The politicni economist who now cries out againsa thelessening of the mn‘riaga ratio ham neglected no observa than: the conditions of life have materially changed since the doctrine that she who remained unwedded was despised was set: spinning over the earth. Greatcr independence and wider onpor- tuuit iea are now granted the singie woman than in the pasb. She 15 no longer forced into half Welcome marriage by the fear upon her ixhat she wiEl one day be afraid to love the world in the face because she is an "old maid ." Tne largely increazing number of inde- pendently situated Women who pmter (*0 live unmarrled is likely to work 1). decided change in the status of the “old maid.†The elderly 2,111,100, who prefers the luxuries or: comforts of her father’s home to sharing ul ï¬ll: or a bonding huuse apartment wibh a. salaried young man is so rapidly multiply- ing that she is bound to have a. nhow in thinga generally, the same as younger maid- ens and he: marrlecl sisters. Many a. woman has spoken the vows that: made her a wife solely from the scourge of this fear an pherby-gonre time. The tendencies and the cold. ï¬gures of census seem to indicate that the day of the “old maid†is near at hand. ;; Fourteen years ago out: of every 1‘000 women in England seventeen were annual- ly married. Now but thirteen out of every L000 put on the wedding ring eacn twelve month. In America. everybody knows there are twenty young women past: 25 unmarried where- thore wua one twenty years ago. In appearance the beer drinker may his the picture of heals h, but. in reality he is most: incapable ox res: rating disease, A a. llthb m- jury, 8. savers cold, or a. shack to the chy or mix. u will 00m ncnly provoke acute diaeaae, enc'ling fa all} Compamdl with other lnebriaucs i. l': o 1196 diï¬â€˜arentkinds 6f alcohol, he is u re incurable and more guncmlly diseased. It is out observation that beer (kinking in this country produces the very lnwesl‘. kind of lnebriety, closely allied to crixrinal insanity. The most dangerous class of r‘ ï¬lms in our large cities are. beer drinkers. lutelleetually a stupor amounting 8112mm to paralysis arrests the reason, chang- 20;: al’ ‘he hég er facultiaa into a. mere mzlxnlis'm, sensual, se ï¬dh, sluggish_, varieé 2‘ J::.c-r3â€""‘I don"t kink woman am a “ d of drugs, after: Z'l.’ Mrs†Jones~ ~‘ UrT‘t inly not. This 0: natam- cry that wmncn are win 9nd fond of drasr' 23 .di non- †1'. But you used to think they worm m. has caused you t0 chmge your cpin ion!’ 1VI>:.Jonaaâ€"“"v"x’e!l Ive bee: d: n Bangers from Beer Drinking. ARE GIRLS AT FAULT? Convincing: Proof. East End of London last year, and the com- plete {allure of the police to trace the per- petrator of these outrages, were the means of calling attention once more to the qualiï¬ca- tions of this old time detective. The daily papers were ï¬lled with letters advocating his use ; but from the thoroughly impractiosble nature of many of these epistles I fear that the change in public opinion was due more to a strong desire for vengeance on an excep- tionally loathsome miecreent than to increas- ed knowledge of the disposition of the blood- hound. At one time the police received about 1,200 letters daily, containing various suggestions, and of these acme 400 proposed the use of bloodhounds. Some of the news- paper correspondents seemed to belleve that the pollce had only to take a bloodhound of any kind to the place Where a murder had been committed weeks or months before and the animel would at once eeent out the trail of the murderer in reference to thousands of others, and infalli 1y run the man down. Ills Accuracy of Scent in London. Some few years a. o the idea of ï¬lm use of bloodhounda for emotive purposes was mooted in the daily papers, and the bowl of horror at: the barbarwy of such a proceeding than it raised from bhe uninformed was moan summing to those who knew the tract, ability of the bloodhound. He was Miooiat- ed with this tale: of s‘uwe hunting in "Uncle 1‘om’s Cabin†and "Dred" and was suppos- cd to be a ferocious monster, endowed with witch-like attributes, and capable of pursu- ing his victim moccasfully under any con- ditions until caught, when he would certain- ly hear him limb from limb. In the beginning ct October I was con- sulted by Sir Charles Warren, then the Chief Commissioner of Metropolitan: Police, as to the feasibility of employing bloodhounds to tuck the Whitechapel murderer, and after some correspondence I took two hounds up to London to experiment with. We ran them repeatedly in p.the srks for the informa- tion of the police aut critics and various representatives of the p,reue and sufï¬ciently demonstrated the factsp that the hounds will run a man who is a complete stranger to them, that when they have come up to their man they will not molest him in any way, and that although the line may be crossed by others they will not change. While in London I never ran them without the line of the hunted man being crossed (often by quite a number of peo 10,) but the hounds never once changed hey could carry the line across and‘ or a. short way along the grnvel paths in the peaks, but the experiments made on the London stones could not be considered as satisfactory as we should have wished. Hunting the clean boot on 3 Lon- don pavement is, I believe, the most severe test that any hound can be put to, and will of course require special and careful trainâ€" ing.â€"[Century. out-Time Church Going; A contributer b0 the “Chriation Union†gives an interesting account of a Sunday in a Vermont church sixty year ago. From some extracts which we give, it will be seen that the church going cnaboms have changed greatly in tube last half century. The woman. says the wriber, wore gowns of when and mmkeen in summer, and in winter of home- spun wool. The short-waisted gowns were mnde with round, low-open necks and short sleeves. In summer and wintar alike, they wore in the neck: of their dreams 9. tucker and a frill of white dimihy or book-munlln. From early summer until an they drew on their hands and arms for church wear long nlesves of yallow mmkeen, with ï¬nger- less hand-coverings like a “mica." The sleeves were buttoned to the shoulder of the gown, and as they were freshly washed and starched each week, they formed}; moat; uncomfortable additinn to the summer toilet. Ewh farm-wife made: her own straw bon- net, from coarse imported straw braids. for (summer wem‘. She stuffed and quilted the heavy woollen "pumpkin hood†Which kept her warm in winter. A favorite articie of summer head-gem- among tho older women was the green silk “calaah,†being easily pushed buck or old-fashioned chaise-bop. A curious habit: prevaiiad among she old farmers who attended this church when they grew tired during the long sermon. They stood up, leaned over the pew door, anï¬ sum-ed up and down the aisle, to rest and amuse and aï¬retch themselves. One day Dmcou Puï¬'er stood up to stretch himself, bub his pew door was insecure- ly fastened. As he leaned heavily against: it), it gave away under h‘s weight, and he sprawled out; inbo the aisle on has hands and knees, wlth a clatter that awakened 9.11 the sleepers. The pulpit: was very high and rerrow, and overhung by a clumsy sounding board. It was reached by a narrow flight of shops, and lighteï¬ from behind by a. window high up in the wall. The window served a. double purpose, for the pulpit was so small that: the long-llmbed Elde! could not: kneel in it. So, when he wished so lead the con- gregation in prayer, he turned his pulpit) chair around, knelt. in it, and rested his feet on the window ledge behind him. The children were litble miniatures of their parent's ;even the smallest boys were the greab beavar hats, which were large enough in the crown to last: them until the boy was quite grown. As men as We text “7&8 given out, Daacon Batchellor, who was old and very deaf, rose from his pew, waikod heavily down the Male, wad half ascended the pulpit step.1‘henhe at ‘justed an enormous tin ear trumpen, mm Ban 1319) 9 through the long sermon, 9. pious mud mte‘ntive, but mush grobenque, ï¬gure. The singers' Beans streaked entirely across the church, in front: of the pulpit, â€"-â€"tWo 30mg row-39 with a rack or desk for hymn- books between them The men singers sat with their back to the pulpit, while the women need them. When the leader struck his (uning- -fork and gave the key, all stood up :.:1d1itelally bawled and sung in each other‘ 3 Friendâ€"-Ds you still continue to send mat~ A-rito the ngwap‘gprzm, Uholly? _ Cl'mllyrâ€"Yezs} Hub iï¬â€˜m merély for gnozi faith at! u m: necesssxzrily for publication. In th-e Gal-mm army the Emma, the “quem ‘ ~ om," hm; bum introiuced into or}? r . .. ntan Aili‘fne whom». was Emusws cf the (:11 rd haw, :20 .7 also been mmhd WM) thï¬ 1' Ha 1‘55; "rmé, and a high uubhnrity the rTragnom will soon aim be ,3, \tim it. It promises to become the 0‘11in arm of ail the horse yea mwnta in the Gvrmuu mm . The French hnd‘ ed the: lance emiraiy. but now than they see it being adopted in this universal manner by the Germans they are again begiusing to coyy them. The horrible murdera committed in the THE BL000HOUN D. Apuata suitable to preserve the gloss of patent leather and prevent cracking in made of wanx wivh a little olive-oil, lard, and oil of turpentine, mixed when warm, to be of the consistency of (thick paste when cooled. To cefhent z‘nc to glass: One pound of shellac dissolved in one pint of a aulution of alcohol, with one-twentieth its volume of a solution of guttwpercha in bi-sulphide of carbon; will dry quickly. A alow~drying cement may be made thusâ€"two ounces of thick glueraolution, one ounce of linseed~oil vanish at three quarters of an ounce of Venice turpentine ; boil together. Among the modern “Mysteries of Paris,†says The Lmddn Figaro, is a shop devoted to the sale of tea. Ar. the retail counter a revl live prince may be seen any day Weigh- ing up packets of the leaf which cheers but: does not inebriate. This prince is the son of a. European general, whose name is well known throughout the Continent, and who is related to some of Ulla moat: arisnocrabic of the families of Ruin. Mrs. Harriet: Beecher Stowe was poor when she Wrote "Uncle Tom’s Cabin.†The last- chamer was written in the (11103 of her publisher in Boston. In WM 9. cold Winter morning, and she arrived at the store half frczau. She stood over the stove half an hour before she was sufï¬ciently thawed to hold her pen. Three months from that time ahe received a. cheque for $10,000 as the ï¬rst payment on the sale of " Uncle Tom’s Cebln. †Cast’iron for nickel-plating should be ï¬nished ï¬ne with a soft. emery buff, made bv covering a Wheel with leanher mid ap- plying ï¬ne emery with giue. Gnods that are not ï¬sh are aomeumes ï¬nished in & bumbling machine to the desired ï¬nish for nigeling. It: is said that native sulphate of baryta. is an active poison to rats, mice, and dogs. It: in not; easy to explain its action, consider- ing ita extreme insolubillty; bun, mixed winh lard, it: is readily eaten by them. This being the cue. the question suggests itself whether it might not replaco the more daugeroua poisons now so much used for this pin-pow, and do away winh the risk attending them. A man who knows whereof he speaks told Miss Gilder, who told The Boston Transcript, than it was a. source of very serious concern to Cornelius Vanderbilt: to know how to spend his income. “Of course,†she says, “ he could make ducks and drakes of in, and so get rid of it}, but: to spend it: properly takes no little thought. He has thousands of op- plicabions, and probably could get rid of it all in a day, but: it would hardly be going where it would do the most; good.†Iron bricks, so called, are mid to be in satisfactory use for street: paving in Ger- many. These bricks are made by mixing equal parts of ï¬nely ground red argiilaceous slate and ï¬nely ground clay, with the addition of ï¬ve per cent. of iron ore. The ingredients thus mixed together are then moiatened with a. strong solution of sulphate of iron, to which ï¬ne iron ore is added. Aftcr nhis,the compound is shaped in a press, dried, dipped once more inoo a. thick slip of ï¬nely ground iron ore, and taken bum!) in a kikn for about forty-eight hours in a reducing flame. As alcohol hasa tendency boallcer or even wholly destroy the colors of animal speci- mens preserved in it, Mr. Fibre Demergue has been led to make some researches with a View to ï¬nding a. £ubs.titube for is that does not possess this inconvenience. He recommends the following mixtureâ€"Sirup of glucose. diluted, one thousand ports; glycerine, one hundred pert-s: methylic alcohol, two hundred paws; camphor, to saturation. The glucose is dissolved in warm Water, and, after in ii; cool, the glycer- ine, alcohol, and a. few pinches of e .mphor are added. As this mixture is always acid, it should be neucralised by the addition of a small quantity of a. solution of potash or sods. Alter ï¬ltering through paper, a few fragments of camphor are allowed to float upon the liquid. This liquid is well mapted for the preservation of hard‘ shelled erusnacea of green, blue, or red color, and also 01' Germain echinoaerms. Mos: soft; animals preserve their color in in, although they contract: considerably. Lanflladies are famous gossips ; they pa; great aï¬benbion to roomers. Barber (to sleepy mun) : “ Bay rum. sir? Sleepy man: “ No“ Jamaica." Mrs. Maybrick, poor Woman, has receded into the obscurity of the convicted and con- demned. Since 3110 m not: to be hung ed all the sentimental. interest abnu‘r her fate has dis. appeared. Very few ihoughb shevaaothzr than guilty, but1 she was young, somewhat] pretty and a woman, and it; was " hon qhb aw- .ul " to tie a. napkin roun’ such a. ghead †and no let: her see to dee.’ Still auch hu- manitarianromanbicism my becarried t0) far. TRUTH would like to draw the line at: cold calculating poiuonera whether male or female. The world can get along Wlbhuu'a such nicely. So exit Mrs. Mahybrick. It is 1700 bid a world for any tears being shed over her fate. The labour question will be diacunsed‘ at: great length during the coming session of the Reichstag at: Berlin. Unfortunately the world is always worri- ed 27.1mm: Wham mwo or three uf what are called the crowned heads may be thinking or feeling or doing. Apparently, hhe law has to be taken 11: their lips and millions are happy if they are only parmibted to die for their pleasure and 0.11 their commanfl. It is a marvel 3.111111 horror all 1011116. What 3112111 be said of the civllzstion or mlig ion mi :1 woxld in which 31161] things can gbe? Ami ihey mil profess co be animmted by the principles 0f the Goapsl. and sake Heaven to witness 1l:13.b they love the Lord Jesus Christ. Growling will do 110 £001? and wall not help 1:0 any bentï¬cial change. If it cculrl,‘1RUTH would willingly exhauah the vocabulary of malediction, Rev. Mr. Prmbecosb. the New York mis- sionary who occasionally vigits Toronto, has devises! a new treatment for burglar“. He myn :m“ If I knew a ‘; Irgim was in my home ‘ t nighï¬, 1 would gm in him with a. light, unawmed, and hulk i0 him as I. wnuï¬d m a, flicnd whom I. "163?le to hflp. U‘. na .hen demrcf}. t4 Eake my gomlas 1. weak? m protmt. not: Wru‘d I mum his in would J him '0 the 0!: am? in». lo mm .†Mr. Pcnmcow 5; mm pub- Hahm, 3:355:28. But hurgiam Vii†kmxw, 53v nif â€my have 23m; “.122. upporf ' '5 hmphality, ilmt his im mzekmtrmfa‘nh. lmokiug m: the mat‘wr ire-m a. gawk“ poi? t of View, o-rnwc uh." {Mr L; ‘41:: “bur at would be mum mspmpriata burgxm than atOTC1‘hg“’ praccaainn and 1m addralss of welcome, SCIENTIFIC AND USEFUL. '7 pay 9n