POTTER & CHADWICK. PabiisLerf.
UNAWED BY INFLUENCE UNBNtBEO BY CAM.
VOL.
liKArFoltT. N
’PKII. 7. I"-.'.
It pf'm.
of
I-roDiisc
In Fiitnrr.
to iiif ttj.; Iji.il „f , xf.f - laiiori
Ha- not yet Hwollfc.i to tho porfro-t flower
That with iu wonrlrona r 'halation
The worl'l ut faith will dower.
The lamps wo li^ht are hot th. etar
Tlio faimest reflex of a -liatant ann
Tlut wakoa a;i rtani-r aalnfation from ne
Till nohler heights arg ycr,n.
The pa.-it waa hut the preface of the itory
In which the romance of our liv. .. is wrought-
I ho deeds tliat win impenihahle glory
Live scarcely m our thought.'
hate’er wo do fall.a short of our intending-
The Htructuro lacks the hea-ity -a-e design; ’
And tortured angels, to tin ir home aacendinp,
Depart aii 1 leave no sign.
I’y all tho doubts and trials that so vex ns,
liy all the falls an 1 failures that annoy,
Jty all th'! Htrtirifre l'd'isi(. .s thst perple.x 11“,
And yield no fruits of j o-.
Wo know tliat unto mortals is not given
The strength of knowledge that is yet in store
l-'or 118, ero yi!t we walk the strofts of lieaven,
And dream of heaven no more.
Tlie hear of earth has secrets yet witlioUh-n,
That wait tlie dawning of.some future daj-,
When angel h-iuds from si pulclirc so golden
Shall roil the .stone awav.
Man has not touched the z'tilth of creation;
ilie godlike thought that tilled Ji-hovali’s niiiid
Has had in Him luit fi ehle revelation,
Unci rtain, uu-leliu! '!.
Tlie days wlierein timi! reaches its fruition,
With moments v.-eighted witli no vain regret.
Those days of wliich the soul has sweet jiro-
vision,
»i«Draw nigh, hilt are not yet.
—Joupphirie I'oUard.
THE QUAKER ARTIST.
“ I tell tbee now, Piichard, that thee’Jl
never get a cent of my money if thee
keeps on with this devil’s work.” •
The siKtaker was Friend Joseph Har-
ri.s, and he held at arm’s length a small
picture in water colors, the fe.atures of
which were hardly discernible in the
gloom of the winter morning. Friend
Joseph bad been at the bam, as was his
custom, to fodder the cattle and feed
the horses before breakfast, and had
discovered this bumble bit of art in a
nook in the granary. He did not have
to be told that it was his son Richard's
work, whose inclination to such ungodly
pursuits had been the distress of his
parents’ lives.
Fall of suppressed wrath Joseph
burst into the kitchen where the family
were waiting breakfast, and without
preface addressi d his son with the threat
which he considered the most dreadful
he could use—that of disinheritance. It
meant something, too, for in spite of his
plain surroundings Joseph Harris owned 1
two hundred acres of land worth I
ew-ily a liTiinired wed. Ufty dollars an I
acre and bis visits to the county town on I
the first of April of each year were not I
to pay interest but to receive it. A
tall, Etraight figure, he was nearing
sixty years of age. but a.s vigorous as a
youth, with quick motions and sharp
black eyes, indicating a violent nature
chained for life bv the strict discipline
of the Society of Friends.
His son Richard, now turned of twen
ty ^o, was of a different mold, shoi t
an.i stoutly built. His face at first
sight seemed hea-vy and vacant, but
this was in fact tho abstraction of the
dreamer. His soft blown eyes, and
hair clnstericg in thick curls over his
low but broad forehead, made amends
for his s-onicwhat commonplace feat
ures.
The moment his father entered the
kitchen Richard felt that his secret
labor had been discovered, but his
anxiety was more for it than for him
self. He rarely dared face his father's
anger, for Joseph Harris, like many of
his sect, made up in severity at home
for the smooth and passionless exterior
he maintained abroad.
“ NVill thee give it to me, father ?”
Said Richard, advancing toward the
outstretched hand which held the
sketch, while the hand’s owner contem
plated it with unspeaKable disgust.
Poor little painting ! It was a frag
ment of an autnmn afternoon, during
which Richard had been husking corn
in “ the hill field ” and which bad
abided in his memory clothed with the
halo of a hundred day-dreams. There
■was a corner of a woods, the foliage half
green, half shading into tints of
brown and red. A rivulet leaving a piece
of meadow still gay with autumn flow
ers and green with late grass, flowed
rippling and sparkling out of the sun
light into the shade of the dying leaves.
What courage and hope it must have I
Richard followed in thought its waters
as they flowed on to Chester creek and
then to the stately Delaware river, and
far out till they met the mighty ocean
which washes the shores of all the
■worm.
And as'be mecbanically pl-nnged his
b-usking knife into tbe shucks and
turned out the golden ears one alter
tbe other, he humbly took this lesson
to himself, as was his wont, and said:
“ I, too, must have more courage,
firmer hope. Why should not I go for
ward in my study of ait with greater
faith ? I must, I will.” And to fasten
the vow he had painted two studies of
this little piece of meadow as a constant
reminder, snatching tbe time on First
days and Fifth days, when his father
and mother were at meeting, and he
and Mose Riddle, the colored man,
were left to look after the stock. One
copy he had sent on a venture to a com
mission house in New York, the other
he had hidden in-the bam.
ure, ard his anger wh* dc-p. He Lad
agreed to give Richard a fourth .La.-c
in the profits of the farm this vi-ar, ar d
not on:y was this [minting busici' in
nn^f^ly ainmecQt*nt, but a -*f
. prerions time and a lot. of moui-v. It
must be stopped.
“ 111 put it where it descrvi ^ to go,
and where thee will follow unlr- - th>
turns thy ste[si from the world and iu?
fellies. But the fire that thon wilt
meet will l>e that which is not iiuenchi-d,
TOd where the wo-m dietb not.”
With these words, which Friend
Harris spoke slowly and with that
slight chanting intonation whiuh char I
^terizes the ntterances f the speaki-r.s ‘
in mtieting, the solemnity of which was i
further increased by the use of the
formal “thou’’ instea'l *of the u.snal I
*‘ thee,” he stn/>|MiiJ to tii«> kiidion
fireplace, wljoro u gooJly wocsl fire wus
horning under tho crane, and striking
the [licturo against tlie corner of the
mantel{)iece tore a rugged sjilit through
its c.-inter and threw the whole into the
flames. In a moment it was a shriveled
cinder.
There are certain natnrea whose in
herent strength can only be developed
by a violent ehock. Full of latent [>ower,
their weakness comes from a native
humility. They distrust themselves
through a genuine admiration of others.
Such was Richard Harris. But the
necessary shock had come. Ho gazoil a
moment at the cinder, his face crim
soned, but the severe discipline of the
Society and the family exercised the
sway that it usually does even on tho
very young among Friends.
“ E’atber,” be said, in a low and even
tone, “I repeat what I have often told
thee; I have no light that there is evil
in painting; but as thee thinks there is,
I shall bid thee and mother farewell
to-day, and seek employment else
where. I shall not ask thee for any
share in thy estate.”
Taking his hat from tho window-sill
he pas-sed out of the kitchen door, leav
ing hi.s father speechless with amaze
ment at this rebellious utterance, and
his mother—a poor weak woman, con
stantly in misery between carrying out
the severe rule of her husband whom
she feared, and yielding to her tender
ness for her boy whom she loved-
wiping her tears without emitting any
sound, either word or sob. As for hi.s
two sisters they sat demure and motion
less through the whole scone, at heart
rather pleased at it, as they had no
sympathy with their brother’s taste for
forbidden arts, and thought him a queer,
wasteful, uncomfortable member of the
household. Moreover, though younger
than he, they were not too young to
see at once the pecuniary advantage to
them of his renunciation of his share
of the estate.
Richard went toward the barn and
cook a seat in a nook 0/ tbe oorn-rodiSoi- j
jfack that was built along the side of
the barnyard. He did not lee^bo cold
raw air ol the early morning. His mind
was too full of the step he was about to
Cake and what had led up to it. Now
or never he mnst quit the farm, re
nounce the teachings of tbe Society,
'lirow aside tbe coat with standing col
lar and the quaint broad-britamed black
hat, give up tho plain language, reject
the counsels of the venerable facers of
meeting who would surely be appointed
to visit him, and prove a recreant to tho
revered precepts of Fox and Barclay.
.411 this was meant by a pursuit of Lis
strong bias for art.
Why was he bom with it? Whence
came it? These questions he had often
asked himself. For six generations his
ancestors had never touched a brash or
palette; not a painting nor a statue nor
a musical instrument nor any drama or
work of fiction had been allowed in
their houses. How had ho been created
with a passion for color and form, with
a love of poesy and music, which neither
the dreary farm work nor the colorless
life, nor all the frigid, deadening dis
cipline of the Society could quench?
Going back to his earliest memory
he could recall that when four year.s
old he was left for a few honrs at tho
house of Mike Wallis, an Irish tenant
on a neighboring farm, and that Mike’s
wife bad kept him in the utmost bliss
by showing him a colored print of the
Virgin and the Infant, and telliiig him
the pathetic history as it had pictured
itself in her warm Irish heart. But what
was the horror of his parents next day
when he toddled into the room when
they were at dinner and called =
“ Mudder, mndder, come see Gou.
His parents ran to the door f:ee
what this strange appeal meant, and 10.
there, on the floor of the front porch,
chalked in rude but faithful outlines,
were the Child, with rays of glory
around his bead, and the Mother, by
his side, holding a cross. He could
still recall the scowl that came over his
father’s face and his mother’s impetu-
rnsh for a bucket of water and
scrubbing-brush. Nor had he forgotten
tnJviolent state aoU imxnoaiate »pank-
ing lie himself received for his artistic
endeavor. , -u
His memory leapt till ho was a boy
of ten, and to his intense delight at
effecting a trade of a Barlow knife for
a box of paints. Many an hour of joy
bad they given him, hiding himselt in
the garret of the old house, in the back
part of tbe hay-muw near the dusty
gable window, or in a little hut he bad
built in the woods. But his prying
little sister betrayed him one day, and
not only was his treasure confiscated
but he himself was tied to the bedpost
by his mother and given such a whip
ping as would have discouraged most
youthful artists.
Later in life, when he was too ola
for such vigorous measures, many lec
tures had he received on the frivolity of
1
1,-
t
1 w!
f.i.^.ily that bi-r own I'-.n -uTi' . . L.-r
(Tiulf, icil that ii all . mii’-?' r«
-hn -ih'.uid fiilliiw i*.
Fr'im hildhoi J “h ard R:;'i'trd
Hnrri ■ had d»-ligLndto play aud talk
togathi-r; and though no word of love,
no kir - and no care =- Liw’ evor pa' -i-.l
l^etW' -*n thi-Hj, Ixith their familitia and
thr .';..aidvf?i considercil th- ir union
merely a matter of time anl money.
Nor did tLia ahaence of the usnal [•:-*-
sages of love seem to any one eonoeraed
a strange circumstance. They were
aci’u.stomeil to the repre-'- hin of all
outward show of feeling. In neither
houHehoM had the children ever seen a
ki->8 exchanged among ita members,
young or old.
Thongll tlevoi.l nl mnjr i
HiliOiila uDifemtocHl anil re- |
Bjieeted tho forbiildon tastes of her
lever. She looked n[)on his pwnliar I
abilities as gifts of Ool for nso in life, j
and she quietly but firmly put aside the ; voice. “I desire that
traditions of her sect, which condemn j jx-ne h-aving us for
51}
tl I
the eoler.-d an 1
much f'lr h; fa*
liarr-- ai;. itxfit, :
for the bo.t whi-at
raiae, he snatchi d
‘■ofi'a Land and ea,- rly
stood by in sileti-'
“ What does he DM
cate stndy T" said bis '
eeriain voice.
“ He means,” aaid
*• the picture you tLr.i
morning.” 1
A ui-w light daWTje
mind. Br> long as his #
nothing but a timesat
form of idlenes-it
urc-,; but "the inewd^;
vane r)e.»i>ln viuiinr .-
.l,7j|»r; -r" •« ‘OT
sfooil right before hi.
shrewd to mlsanderr
sells.
“ Itichard.” he mi'
vmm-r wa- •
1 *0
at \
j||f» T, V- . . - 4 1 .
t In:.. x ..J
■ '
•Air b-.fa ■’
.1 .
1 i'D « ii'Hi V
haTi!
•Mil, (J'iintly
1 fire iL; -
i l^is father’^
htuadreds of
InJ-'n. ' Htr
!Si>r a-ut op
T" r uiD m rate tin'
•Viut, It M
. tb(.t4tU i t
i Wl4 ml IWktt iMsmi VI
&rU * u.Tti to
and
1 acirece of art. relating to gis or tl.
I a'moi-t’bere wklek to aapiHMC I to
any conn. dlreeUv .r luauc ilr
with I- r u.auiic i-xje rii&enta.
them indiHcriminately
” Wilt thou presume to deny the
many testimonies of Friends, both in
England and America, against these
sinful arts?” her mother would ask;
lieing a “ public friend ” of considera
ble local fame she never employed the
incorrect nominative “thee,” even in
family life.
“ S'lother,” replied the daughter,
“ they spoke for their day. I must act
in mine by the light I have, not by
theirs.”
Her mother wisely avoided argument,
trusting that the Spirit would enlighten
her daughter in time.
Leaving tho fodder stack Richard
walked across the bare fields toward
tho plain brick house which was Sib-,
billa’s home. His mind was made up.
He wonld go to Now York and devote
himself to the study of art. He had
saved since his majority about three
hundred dollars. He had youth,
strength, talent, love—was not that
enough? Wonld .sibbilla approve of
it? Would she make tho serious sacri
fice it involved ?
As he approached the house it was
about 10 o’clock, and all the males were
ont at work. Ho knocked at the front
door, instead of the side door as nsnal,
and Sibbilla hersolf opened it and
gazed at him with considerable surjirise
in her hazel eyes, quickly changing to
an expression of pleasure, which Rich
ard did not iail to note, and which
filled him with both joy and anxiety.
“ Why, Richard, what brings thee
here at this Lour ?” was her exclama
tion.
“Sibbilla,” he said, “I wish to see
thee,” and stepping in he closed the door,
and they both stood in tho wide hall,
obscurely lighted by the transoms at
each end. - Ho parish a moment *0 .
cover his cdbtroJ, and theil_3poR®_™^pi
lECoS '
a Bofteneil
a Would p ~t-
w4»y«. J hv
mother and I will aa-:3||gnv thee t-
the city, and will be p»—at at the N*r
mony. I think Sibbilk, parents will
al.'O not refuse to aite^i ’
As be went out he Mj to Moec, who
was waiting with thi d'xhorn :
“ Mose, thi-e shonld ..rays be slow to
'1 . ■’ »lUi t« * ff-
N rdi i.ikji’lJ’- -'I'i'-i-tiflc Tl [ .-t
the oiily Eong-bir 1 5)“ t ' '1 i . *
treme north was li.e i'i:.:!'
. merry twitter ws- cdt4 ij h. .r
heaji^ of atom and • roggy chfi’
it builJa itE in ■-*. of • f' -iih-
islown. DebgLtirg tn r-'lj and
I this ebc^ rful at • g'^ter enliv'
and avoid tbe »;am'itul of ra»h ' gloomy Bhoreaof nortberm -t Hpit.: t
IraxiT toll®: ** A Mm {(Olllg
loeole tne farm in order to study art.
anger,
actions when out of tenpr.”—Otir Cuu-
tinfut.
Dauenhouer’n Lif?ti Yakutsk.
Mrs. Danenhower b« received a long
letter from her son, Lieutenant Dan
enhower, of the Jiacnette explor
ing expedition, dtted Yakutsk,
Siberia, December 30, la81. It contains
no news which has nol be«n anticipated
bv telegraphic dispatches, but it gives
some interesting details with regard to
tho life of tho .Teaniibtts survivors at
Yakutsk. In the tetter Lieutenant
Danenhower says:
We are passing tbe time quietly but
impatiently. It is daylight here at about
8 A. M. got np aavlbgve breakfast
at a little hotel that » handy. Tne
forenoon I spend reading a Httle, writinjg
a little and in attending to any busi
ness I may happen to have on hand.
Abont 2 1’. M. General TscbernielTs
sleigh arrives, and I go to dine with him;
generally return aboct 4 p. m., and if I
do not have visitors I take a nap and
kill time as well as I can until 9 r. sl,
when we have supper at the little hotel,
and then go to bed. As I have told yon
before, I have found nice people in
every part of the world that I have
visited, and this place is by no means
an exception. Last evening, for instance,
we spent very pleasamtly at the house of
a Mr. Gorreikoff, an Irkutsk ntarchant,
who entertained us verv welL Hia wile
gen with it-, lively n-iti is and
rigor of thi- Arctic wint- r.
'It, ^
. IlAVA piBDO,
dron. . . tinco leaving San
The rni'.-riiiten.h-El (if lb - N.-wr T ri
Central railroad denies that it u eooo-
omv or oldfogiiii »s that prevents the
heating of cars by steam. Itisimpriw-'
ticabiiitj. If tbe steaiu is not returned
to the engine—which La« not yet ti- eu
successfully done—the locomotive can
not afford the waste. If il comes from
a separate boiler, aav in the baggage
car, and on account of a broken wbo-l
or other trouble the baggage car has to
be cut out, then the heat supply has
gone, and any single car which bad to
be hide-tracked or left waiting for
another train on another road would
leave no heat as soon as separated from
the train. Every car must have its osm
source of heat. Tests are now going
on for beating the trains by a small 1
boiler under each car, which, in case of j
collision, would tumble off and not set
tho car on fire. * Tho superintendent
claims that the road has spent 812,(>00
in experiments on heating oars, bat
the subject is surrounded with many |
difiiculties.
It had acquired a kind of sanctity to ... .
him, and each tree had become a sym- such tastes and the wickedness of min-
bol of seme rebuff or danger he was a-.
fated to encounter in his future life.
He had, moreover, described it to Sib
billa Vernon, and had promised this
sole confidante of his aspirations that
he wonld bring it over some time and
let her see it. But Sibbilla lived two
miles away, and as her parents were
also strict members of meeting, who
regarded every work of ait as profanity,
th& would have to be managed with due
caution.
Richard’s first impulse, therefore,
was to secure the picture. But his
totbev bad a double cause of displeas-
istering to them. • u-
These scenes passing through his
memory convinced him that it was vain
to battle with such inflexible rules, and
that to be free he must leave the farm
and all its associations.
There was but one which had really
held him. This was Sibbilla Vernon.
The daughter of rigid parents, her
mother even a “ public friend,” whose
voice at monthly and quarterly meet
ings was familiar to all members of the
Society, Sibbilla was a not unusual type
of the advanced thought of her sect.
Calm, self-possessed, clear-headed, she
shall have to give up my naembership
in the Society, as thee knows. Father
says he will leave me nothing if I do,
and I know thy mother agrees with
him. But I am not afraid. All I ask
is that thee approve of my decision and
will become my wife as soon as I am
able to offer thee a home.”
At that supreme moment of resolve
all the strength which for generations
had been nurtured by the noble Quaker
theories of self-reliance, all the passion
which for generations had been muffled
aud smothered under the narrow Quaker
system of formality and repression,
burst forth and were' expressed in the
face of bibbilla Vernon. She seemed
to rise in statnre, and looking him fall
in tho eyes, laying one hand on his arm
and paskng tlie other round his neck,
she said:
“ Richard, I will como to thee then,
or I will go with thee now.”
The tone was low and the words with
out haste, but he who heard it felt in
his inmost soul that no oath could be
stronger.
“ Thank God and thee,” he uttered,
and for the first time in their live.s each
felt the magic meaning of a kiss of
love.
Seated on tho wooden “settee,”
which is the common furniture of the
country hall, ho told her his father’s
words and action and his own unaltera
ble determination to seek his future in
art. It was agreed that they should be
married by a magistrate as soon as Rich
ard should have an income of seven
hundred dollars a year.
Full of quiet joy he wont home, an
nounced his intended marriage and im
mediate departure, packed his trunk,
and told Mose to have the dearborn
ready at 6 o’clock in the evening to
take him to the station. After the 5
o’clock supper tho members of the
family maintained almost entire silence,
hie mother quietly crying, his father
reading the “Book of Disciplme,”
favorite literature. ■
The dearborn drove up with Mo^,
who had been to the station with the
milk, and stopping at the country store,
which was also the postoffice, had
brought a letter , for Richard. It was
rather unusual for any member of the
household to receive a letter, therefore
Mose announced it with considerable
emphasis, addressing his master by his
first name as is the custom in strict
families:
Joseph, hy’nr’s a letter for Rich
ard. Hiram sez it’s a letter from York,
and ’peats as if it mont be on bizness.”
Joseph took the letter, and resisting
a strong inclination to open it passed it
to his sA. It was from the firm in
New York to whom he had sent a copy
of his picture, and it read:
New Yobk, January 18, .
Deab Snt: We have the gratification
of informing you that the stndy you
sent us on sale has attracted the atten
tion of cue of our patrons, to whom we
have parted with it for S500. Deduct
ing comm., stor’ge, insur’ce, del’y, etc.,
as per inclosed statement, leaves a net
bal. of $372.62, for which find our c’k
herewith.
You mention a duplicate of the study
yet in your possesion. We will take
that at the same figure, cash on deliv
ery, and will give you an order for five
more studies to be completed within a
year. Respectfully,
Smiles, Wiles & Oo.
As he read this letter the check fell
from his hand on the table. The sight of
one we liaVO
Francisco.
Yakutsk is a city cf 5,000inhabitants
The houses are built of wood, and are
not painted. The streets are very wide-
and each bouse has a large yard or
court. The principal trade is in furs.
In summer a great deal of fresh meat is
sent np the river. Daring nine months
of the year snow and ice abound. In
tho winter the thermometer falls to sev
enty degrees below zero. Since our
arrival it has been tixty eight degrees
below, and to-day it only thirty-five de
grees, or thereabouts. In the summer
the temperature rises as high as ninety-
five degrees Fahrenheit, hut the nights
are cold. There are many horses and
cows in this vicinity. The natives, the
Y’akutzs, eat horse nKat, hut the Rus
sians eat beef and Venison. Potatoes,
c.iobage and a few other vegetables, a
few berries, wheat and rye are grown in
this vicinity. There are a few sheep
and poultry also.
Dr. Kapello has examined my left eye
and he says that a very ordinary opera
tion is required to make it a very eflS-
cient eye. What is called an “artiflei.al
[lupil” will have to be cut in the mem
brane that now clouds the vision. He
advises me to wait until I got home, for
after the operation I will have to remain
in a dark room for a mi-inth or two. My
general health is excellent, I am stout
and hearty.
Of course there is very little Ameri
can news in this far-away place, but I
have been able to pick up a few bits of
it here and there. The death of Gar
field is a topic often mentioned, and
from the accounts here I learn that he
wai shot by Gniott on the train near
Long Branch. A great deal of interest
auvl sympathy is manifested by the
Russians. Last evening I sax a Tomsk
newspaper, which said that the Alliance
had made a cruise in ssarchof the Jean-
nette,and had reached latitude eighty
degrees fifty-five minutes north on tbe
west coast of Spitzbergun. Had onr ship
held together ten (twOf; years she -wonld
probably have drifted!i vnt in that vi
cinity. ’About 900 m^M south of this
place there lives an Englishman named
Lee, and from him 1 hope to learn a
great deal cf news.
The proportions in which foreign
countries have contributed to Mormon-
ism are shown in the following figures,
which are compiled from the censuses
of 1870 and 1880:
« 1'^"®-
Uotii in Hngtsnd
Boni In Sooilsnd
Dora in Denmark 4,!'r;
Bom in Sweden l.TttO
Bora in Norway CIS
Dora in Switzerland •'>i_D
Bom in Germany
1S«(I.
19,1-'.»
n -zui
.1,7.'>ii
ilS 1.2H
(D 1,010
15H KSO
England, it will be seen, makes the
chief contribution to Mormonism, and
next to England come those Bcan lina
vian countries to whose people the
Anglo-Saxon stock is close akin. Tin
infrequency of Irish or German Mor
mons is very remarkable, and the Latii.
races of Europe never have been hot--
pitable to Mormon missionaries. The
number cf proselytes made among
Americans during tho last twi-nty years
i.s very small. They are few and f-ri
between. Tho recruiting ground is
Great Britain and Scandinavia.
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Ajinl i. s S' v.-ri-
at Santiago
In till* t njted Stall-.
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I'Ver Vihiti-d li.. t.**'
Statsv, wa* tl. it ( f N'lV.
The 1-^ .('k f. *t .1. N.
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U
Professor Morse in one of his recent
lectures before tho Lowell Institute, in
Boston, exposed some of tho tricks of
tho Ja[>anese in a manner calcnlatoJ to
till the minds of esthetic people who
have been living np to their pottery with
sincere grief. From his statement it
appears that the Satsuma pottery, to be
worthy of which soulful icsthetes in-
tensel’y strive, is held in no esteem in
Japan. There is no such thing as an
cient Satsuma potteiy, and, more than
this, plates with heavy rimih cups with
handles and sanceis and pitchers have
no existtneo at all as genuine [lottery.
Just what it if! that .'esthetes are woraLip-
ing Professor Morse told his audience as
follows: The large articles sold r.s an
cient Satsuma are from two to font-
years old, are pruncipally manufactured
in Tokio and are rubbed with charcoal
dnst to give them an appearance of age.
I have myself stood beside au agent of
au American firm which deals in “ Sat-
suma ” ware, and heard him give an
order for a great quantity of this “ an
cient ” pottery, directing the deBign.s
aud telliu.g the maker to put on plenty
of decoration-s, no matter what. I'he.so
large pieces are regarded by the Japan
ese as abominable [laraphrasos, and
1' . . n.* '
.; 1 T. f w :
rn at .! M l- '■
mficr L I" •
a F.t I'i.i-d w-a
I.J ff -ni riGii r
:it«T W!.:. h CCAk staal the
dislnrUhncc th»t bail .butt '*-1 I.t.l- ■.
on the first day of fl." n. .nUi, wiicfi
(kr.OUii [K-rfona [.-rsahisl in f.;i miuttl.ia.
or fioru a cenU-r whoM- a.'i!vtiy baJ
b-;-n (-1 ii.iulate.l t>y 1*. - e nltt. I ll
qliakii.g ih it tbi'U pn fi ■ .
Iceland to th" Mediu»rra!.-.a. Tt
earthquake of the l^ih tiegai: (,
Maiisachnaetta with a rowring like
that of thunder. Alter a ninnl*-*
continnauoe of tbia there e-ure a
first B. vero abock wilb a twetl bke
that of a rolling ara a swell
BO great that men in the o[s ti fiel ls
ran to bpii4* aometbin* by wbteb
to hold on lest they ahonld !»• thrown
I down. After two or I hive Itmrt ahoelm
I thon camo the must violent of all, [»♦«>
ducing a quick horiBontal tremor with
snifden Jirka and wrenches; tbia oon-
tinned two minntaa, and after a ahort
stnmeroUB 'tliet
montb. :n iJO?Wb
were thrown domi and twisted oot of ' *
fha|>e. On Octoix-r \'J, 1n70, oocumnl
the most consi.lerable shock llist ha-
lioen observed in the Middle and East
ern States during the [.n'sent cenlnry
The source of this disfnrl>anee has lx
traced, with some prolxibility, to tl..-
volcanic region fifty tr lOG mil'» nortl;
cost of (,»aobec. From this regnu.
the fhock H[in-a.l to Sl. Johns, 1 .
and Uu.'tce wo-n f«ll we.dwiird
to (Jhicttgo and southward to New
York. Tho velocity of the wbt or
i.li.;ck was nlxint It.iiOG byt [x-rree-Ml
The occnrreueo of the sli'x'k felt at
(,laebec was telegrapbcl to Montr.al i»T
the 0[>cratorfl of ibo MoLlri kl lclegTai»b
c')n3[>anv in time to (*all Ibe at'entio.
of thoa’e at the 1 after ci’y b the |.h (
riomena, alront thirty seecciD fx-f..r.
the shock reaeliel them. In t'alifi rnu
the oaitbqniiko of destroyi 1 one of . rat nol «-n
I lie Southern missions That of Mareb ! bb*- one..
2t>, 1872. wa-i the most Mvere that ha-,
occurred there duriDg maiiy years.
t)ix‘cial dam.age was d'rne in S*n Iran
ci'cohvthe craeking of the walla of
fine [in’hlic buildings, la Nevada the
n.ining regions sufT.-rc*! :n l*“il f'V the
ilestrnction of Lone I’inc ai.d (ti er
setllcaicutB.
t «•
t
1 1 t g-1
- I-Cf •(
T I >rSlirU.g I--, its
It- l-« i f hwsss* »f .1
..e fif.Uir aak' f A >.*( klct (4 liitU
t«iTB gi" to b.*’-. *■' A Itv-siy IwWV
T«-wr ..i.l l"y. w i . fcieklwg
flunnabaxt bi» t.»l- “lAall, ***7
answer," ssJ.l ti.a Vew* l.ef. " l*ewd
Of M.” tt»w iutl'* l:i w s:j nts-l l». tl-«
fall r\Uf,l €*l lots !«» It»,
A iil»e«Anl» acbool-l**c1«t toksxt a
i.ew ixry ■ ”11 • .'anxnVr* Wwnu V>
rdver a roof fifle. Il f«-«^
I t.ruad W.U> sbiwglws
1 - - - —^
r-q wl to bw tw»»,»y
l.r* lisaa l>T
IS?
going T* aake«i ibe l•1srh••l
esrpentor. Ha »td»rhl *■’ knew
(x-ltcr Ihao any ot •*' telfri*
1 t-
U.al
i.raal as a
lb .ru g thst 1; • f X ».
tn tl.!. . iiT ■ E l -n- **
111 (i -ncrsl U h «rs-.!. a
I filM'l l-(r hs-;'l tti rmti*
.1 th. -tl ! A -. »■
Lirr ■ l.sr£. '. r, a '
•- .;ig it s'. .1 w - t
l.TT rstl*f..r! rr I- . '
|.»1> r f|
yiar», )** *’■■ •
I tsiil. aijd I
as II' grtk'-ral
t .-tal ‘ffwnt sir-e
ttrr. I.to fali »-f
I' /ftaniosrtA. • •
t.i isatda for s
a faru.rt wleiw
nly
Wenders of the Brain.
Dr. n. W. Mill hell. I f N- w Y rk. 1.4
a il (■ ui>- on tho “ Brain and Itx A on
dci sai'l that the c n lK-llam of the
brain presided ovi r the er.'an ofm'Jtiun,
anJ that it coul l lx* removc-1 from aui
mal.H without Uking awiiv their inb-il:
genet*. The efft.'t, bow.ver, wt.nld Ijc
that they n ul 1 not m .ve. Tbe ratne
sj-mjiloms, be raid, coal.l 1.0 ob-rrvel
in man under the icRtscnce (.f a . oLol.
If the latter takes to( wn h of the
Elimnlant his cerel>e!lam and the littl-
cePs of which it is c-imj • d n *occ to
do their work and tbe luan s* .r.r rs.
lie clainic 1 tlna a i ers^-n leamiug tn
ri-moi*
«*f I f ( »f a-il •
ra’.'.y a-l.s'- ■ d m
Isr,-.-. . I - a-i 1 !. '
t » .■ :t t* 1: '
.-it., l.sd V- • 1
UiC -Vn. fi... sn d, »• 'I
I lanttorr m
liwl x-. aSii O
ticic in the fatbiiy '.f
farm jc:t;»il tost of ifwot « fati.er
a lifie of fcT;--.. ixivixSo and il waa
(lunrg h-rstay at this farmhonae Ihst
sh(* waa (•-rtirtsxl by Genetal fkraw* It
must liave fxtoo in spiitig'Uiwe, fo*
sher.Ts she and (i^tw u'.l Ia*wrtal
the .btisior. fe«r.., on eich *, :Uof wbtofc
were lieantiful flowefw.
“ITick,** itoid sbsx •• wouW say to m»,
rather fl-.wers and anj wt.o wtll
l.ave tlie most kilds wtirn We r*d
through,*”
"I'.u moan »rat.t when y w **7
’•r.ikr” i:,t.ri3pi.-l L’.e i.[x,t'r
”!ii. i sme I* Uivs « ”
; “Y. S," she n j.;.. - we a!»*r,
' C,died :.«m • Flick.’rnd wht:i be was
c .-litiiig we and ww- t»d to marry me
my fs h'-r n-'d to laugh at bin. s ..
plavn m", asyii-g. 'll*
I x.kirnr h >y I c-., • sw.’ “ » .
I I- L n«-lf *h S'f 'e ’ '
was 3 K’.> ‘a 1-n'- I* 9 ■•
mctart.i-T the last titor- 1 saS
W«> lis-l ».*«-a »»-••»#
bominablo [.arapbrasos, and n 1 ^ „ ,,i,noat..I a l».l/ ti.r.a-L»-(t ; **/'« *. ..
applied to them which -'K-ar j i -
and the decora'aoa is , , -nr*‘. rit jI i art of i -sc • 1 . , K.i-1; t. u Kis>aM.r,
Creamy Go’d,
According to the staiiaticii of the
Northwestern Dairymen’s association
there are 12,-442,137 covs in the United
States, which yield their owners an an
nual profit of $35. Strange as it may
seeiH, says one writer, the poultry in
terests of the country, at l the poultry
and dairy, which go together generally,
though separated in this figuring, is
greater than the beef trade. By refer
ence to the figures tf the New York^
produce exchange it will be found, and"
may astonish some, that six thousand
barrels of eggs are Bold there every
weok, which, at $12 [er barrel, makes a
total of $72,000, or fer the year in one
city, $3,744,000 paid for eggs alone.
Then think of the chickens, the tur
keys, the geese and other fowls sold
there, and the eggs »cd fowl sold in
Chicago and throng^nt the country.
This, however, is notaing compared to
the dairy interest smee the creamery
and co-operative syatem has been intro
duced, and which is now in vo)^e
eveTvwhfero in Illinois, Iowa and ^ is-
oonsan-
It seems curions bit it is a fact that
there are 10,000 more men than women
in Utah,
name is
lliot they
rt:i^.buVrwa'ta,”an-rthedecora‘aon »
performed by children andch.^p worx
I men of all kinds. I know that I am
breaking many hearts in this audience
and I am sorry for it, bat I must sj^ak
to save other hearts from being broken.
Fflcctof Heat on the Aervea.
Dr. William A. Hammond, th» di*-
tinguished neurologist, in an article in
Our Ojntinrnt with the Ukinir title,
“ How to Escape Nervousness,” warns
against over’‘eatcd apartments,
says: An overheated apartment
ways enervates its cccapanU It r
uncommon thing to find rcoms
n winter by an underground
up to ninety degrees,
murders are more
He
al-
i la no
befled
furnace
Fichts and
numerous in hot
o; ’.tr.gala ws* t!.- u.. *'. rit jI i art -if
whole syi-tem. »od if run throu, 1. w th
a knif.'*'l:f“ w.iuM !•« il*-»troTe»i in an
insUnL /.'RaoUge has Itocn lak'-n of
this in th. [ t' ■' • -if baugiag K •[•le,
!.:.d the girrol-- had Ix-en inlr. .1 "*d on
the saujc i.'-infioxl- He . liioe! that
the brain iiuil net g-t a' -ag without
nerves an'i ti-a’ it liad tw. lv.. paiis of
them. The first li ie» n. rrew wi-rt of
special scum;-.4 far lory. 0[.’.;i- aa-1 au
ditoiT. Th" olfactory n-rve wa* n H
very well ib fine 1 in mar., a« it wa» r. A
nec'ett.'uw, bu’ H r-irhs.1 it., h go-*t
elc-pm’Lt in drg*. - at* and r-ta. It
h
U KUtoMif, :
F .-Xj. if I CCS f : ■
l;Ti' W«1J Vfc'.-lgii V.
f •latalw aa to ).*!= a
w wt.al litol
b'“ Tito daUgbt*^: •
p'sAty CO!lUa:lt.O£. -.f
de
than in cold weather, and the arti-
ficiallv heated air that rushes into our
rooms’, deprived as it is of its natural
bv the baking it has under-
more productive of
moisture
gone, is even -
vicious passions. It is no au^^ng
circumstance. vLerefore, to
woman who swel^ aU day m BUfi a
temperature, and adds to it at night b
suDerfuons bedclothing, croaa md
di^eeable from little
t^^les that would ^celj
temper if kept her room at suty^
degr^ kud opened tne windows ever v
now and then.
Pointed Y-abaped waistcoats appear
, n imported costumes. The point of
the V is at or near ths waist Ua«.
was more perceptible in th* rat than in
anv other animal, and the bl'x-xlhourd
came neit in order. After de-cnl«ug
the o; tl.' nerve the leetnn r sai*! li-ai
the seuac of hearing wax b aa devF-ped
in man than in the animal lie '- *«-
tra'ied that if either of the three terrea
mentioned were rut th- re would be no
sense of pain and that the only r-salt
wonld be the destruruon of the seti*e
of smeU, sight cr bearing The fifth
nerve, he said, confers sensibility 00
the face, and wave im'-aied gives n»e
to intense paiu. He inriatel that the
i pueumo-gairtric nerve waa the great
j vital nerve of the whole body, and said
that if it were divided cur respiration
would cease at ocoe. lie then explained
the workings of the sy-ioal eot J and lU
connection wi’h th. t rain, and eon-
clmded by reciting the cffecU of aleoh' I,
chlureform, or.inm and strvehnina oa
that crgiB of tns body.
K.i-i.
»!bd la-’
1.' that I
marry an.I aa v-
•1 nv:,!cr, y«a ko-
f r'f caoto Will
r.aL-' ie Nal.to, a
LiesiiOf. ,
“WeabaJI it'A |eihli«h yoor nsjbr,
»sa»'l the repre«nl»li»e, ** aittoe toa bate
I- • r. k'tid stj-1 - ■urte-'ws to ws, wilb-
ont permltowo. m we uamynrnt
ili-aliy ah« rrtcarkt.T: *'1 aa i-'A
as: ar-.vl ol my latLer's naoto. It *sa«
C't.ar:-« Bratidr>n. and tay maldm name
was Uleasor Brasdoe. My first t'oe
ta'i.'s name wax John rnfmmlA
Further than tits 1 will ncA Sfo " -
Jk [Jffwai *
A I to'al TaMr.
la Laying off sxsaJI lots tbe f'/Ilowiag
meaeurementa will Ito f'jwad to bv b-Ab
accurete and riaplctr
?*. \ I* If-' •rr»
'/J*; f*. •-
nr
2
h a-
-sr
I'll , '» a..
■ -r
. • * ’
1 , u
r
li tr.
Ht- , h ai
i. T9.
fer*. f. a.
Vf
li •
1
e mt, fisTTn
4 ftJt mrf->
'jt Wb b.’T*
A Tomay. * • *!j *
oL' oh: I vv raad a r*-*’ i
spTcter in my band, aad it .. .jL*
cffsl leant g-. o sHiool.'’ Uaatta.
“ But. my dear, mamma doeMi't see any -
thing tL( maUer." Tomay. “ Gb!
oh * 1 g»»-»s It wutt b« to 3*tof
hasd.”