THa EARTH A. MEHRY-CO-ROUND.
The earth is a merry-go-round,
With plenty of room to gyrate;
To the hub of the sun fast bound,
While flying around at a "high rate.
And great and small
Are riders all
On the earth's great merry-go round.
We are whirled with the world anwnd and
around,
On this merry merry merry
(Spring.)
We passed where the wall
Of Nature did bring
The buds to the breaking,
The birds to the wing;
And May overtaking,
We sang to the Spring
(Summer.)
We passed fruit-laden trees
A;:d wheat above the knee
Flower-beds ablaze;
Whilo lazy life, at easo,
Lay fanned by ierfumed bree-
Of Summer days.
(Autumn.)
We passed where the woods were arrayel
Like Rachel's first-born;
And fields that were bared by the blade,
And banks tltat were cool in the shade , ?
In Autumn's mild morn. . '--&
; (Winter)
We p:is.sed whilo snowflakes fell like sand,
i Through snow-glass set-up in the sky;
Wat-died water masquerade as laud,
And saw December dad
OH, cold December die 1
We are whirled with the world around aud
around.
On this merry merry merry-go-round 1
Hunter MacCv.Uoch.
A WINTEE VACATION.
AND WHAT C'AMK Ob' IT.
It was not at nil creditable to him, but
it whs nevertheless a fact that Tom Bron
son went clown to East Wheelerville on a
two weeks' mid-winter vacation in a
recklessly flippant mood, and deliber
ately intending to have a good time,
whether or no. '
"They're an awful backwoodsy set,
truest Wilson, a dignified young doctor
whom he took with him. . "Ohfl don't
aying it-Aunt Sally's ony a step great-
Vt an?W', ?Th J they're the real
article, she and Uncle 'Justus-cowhide
boots and calico dresses, and rag carpets
and pumpkin p:e, and all that sort of
thing. We'll have lots of fun!"
"I don't propose to -have fun' at the ex
pense of your relatives, Bronson, and' I
trust ypudon't, "the doctor had rejoined
Kd.g y; at wLich T had merely
The doctor need Mot horn - 1
T Ton?'s ironical mood lasted
'X w hnr after their a"ival in
East Wheelerville, and vanished for
good.
. Uncle 'Rastus met them at the station
with a lumber wagon and a cordial "How
be you? ' and twenty minutes later they
were sitting, washed and brushed and
?lJ?.r?-a Aunt Sally's supner-table.
wnn tncle 'Kastus -dishing Am and
tgm and Aunt Sally, stout and bene
Yolently beaming, turning a tin of
biscuits in the oven.
. Tom called the attention of his friend,
in subdued tones, to the picture of
Ueorge Washington on the wall, and the
yellow almanac under it, and to the tin
tea-pot and the mug of teaspoons, and
the absence of butter-plates.
dn't have dining-rooms in
12ast Wheelerville, you know," he mur
aured, with a chuckle. "They eat in
tie kitchen year in and year"
' vU8' clled nnt Sally, as she put
the hot, brow biscuito on the table,
'you can brimg the strained honey, too
mebbe they'll like some o' that."
Tl1"8.1?8 a ,a th P'otry, its
lialf-ehut door swung back, and threuffh
it, bearing in one hand an amber-hued
bottle, and in the ether a blue plate and
a trickling slice of hoMjcombT came a
5VD 11lonnk fron-a dark
led yellow-haired, falftaced, start
ling pretty girl.
lorn dropped his fork, and stared with
open eyes and mouth. Wilson, with
greater presence of mind, only looked
f"r,ingLv over the milk-pitcher. .
c 11 .is97 Harkness," said Aunt
Bally, with brisk cordiality and straght
lorward phrasing. "Susy, this is my
nephew Tom Bronson; and this is
Doctor Wilson, a friend o' his he's
brought."
f The younsr men ros and bnnroi . nnj
Susy sat down, and deftly and grace
' fully dished the honey, and smilingly
passed it. . s J
Tomcat sUring, with dazzled eyes ;
and continued to stare during the three
quarters of an hour of supper-timc.
He was distinctly aware of nothing
save the astonishingly pretty face oppo
site. rr
He could not have been more dazed
and confused had a heavenly being
dropped through the ceiling.
A stunning girl in East Wheelerville,
and at Aunt Sally's! Who was she
Tom looked at the gingham apron. It
was hard to believe that she was merely
help but the fact seemed indisputable.
He knew that servants always ate with
the family in the country. But he re
membered Aunt Sally's last "help" a
sleepy, dough-faced girl, with shoes
own at the heel.
Where had this this angel come from?
'Whew I but how pretty she was I
Tom did not know whether he was
eating or not ; but he thought he was
probably making a passable pretense,
since nobody was observing him particu
larly. They were talking Uncle 'Rastus,
Aunt Sally, Wilson and she. How sweet
ahe looked when she talked! And the
doctor was conversing with her quite
calmly and rationally.
Tom was dimly amazed at his cold
bloodedness. He rose from the table
slowly, since the rest were doing so, and
submitted to being led into the sitting
room, with his head screwed backward
to get a last glimpse of Aunt Sally's
charming hired-girl, who was swiftly
clearing the table.
"Well !" he burst forth, sinking into a
chair by the glowing stove, and gaping
at his friend.
His flippancy was gone; his jocose
sarcasm was a thing of the past. He
was deeply serious.
. "Well?" said the doctor, collectively,
'fiood jrrarions!'' ss.iid Tnm wi.-
said Tom.
sively ;
lingi"
"did
-
explo-
you
ever see such
a dar-
"Oh, the cook!" said Wilson, shutting
the stove-damper. "Yes, she's pretty?
But don't lose your head over a pretty
girl, Bronson ; the woods are full of
them!"
WiI.on picked up a "Life of Wash
ington" from the table and began to read
it; and Tom, after a drearily wistful
pause, stole into the kitchen.
tuisy stood at the sink with her sleeves
rolled to her plump elbows, washing
dishes. Aunt rr'ally was stirring ye,ist !
the
''Oh, let me help I" Tom implored,
looking beseechingly into Susy's dark
eyes.
ftiie repeaieu, laugbinglv.
But
Tom was in earnest. He cauoht
u UNfUU OI AUDI Fallv'a Tmrrx o
tied it around him, and seized a dish'
towel.
8-jsv laue-hed ...
chuckled till her stout sides shook
.-any
i ou u see I'm an adept !" said Tom,
confidently. '
He felt that he could be an adept at
flying, with such an inducement.
Indeed, he rubbed thp fnrVa '.n,i.ni
ished the classes till they shone.
"Do you like housework, Susy" he
said, softlj.
busy looked astonished did d,o
11 .t: 1 .In ,
looa. uispieaseur ana did not renlv
Tom made another attend -Iff"
w
"Have you ; been
wiin Aunt Sally
,uu8' "wam. -i I am so glad she
can have such good help. It isn't al
ways to be procured, you know
i 'iii "i .
lie meant tnisto please and flatter her
d he thought he was successful '
an
hue turned her pretty head away
quickly; and when she" turned back her
she was smiling. Aunt Rally woa A
pantry.
j , , a it mu i
"Yes, I am glad to be with
eaid, simply.
her,"' she
"East Wheelerville is beautiful, isn't
it?" said Tom, elated at his success.
At that moment he sincerely consid
ered East Wheelerville even more than
beautiful.
"I like it," Susy rejoined, bringing
more hot water in a tin dipper.
"I suppose you've been brought' up
here?" said Tom, in low and sentimental
tones Aunt Sally was back at the ta
ble. Susy murmured something, with her
head Lent over the dishes, which their
rattle drowned.
"Happy East Wheelerville to have
been your native place 1" Tom whispered,
with a look which, an hour - ago, he
would have set down as idiotically soft
"Oh, thank you!" said the hired o-irl'
prettily, washing the last pan. '
The evening flew by at a lightning
speed, so it seemed to the enthralled
young man. lie helped Susy put away
the dishes, and hung the dish-pan on a
hook that was too high for her, and held
the dust-pan when she "brushed up-"
and then they went into the sittin'o
room and played a delicious
dominoes by themselves, while Aunt
Sally knit, and Uncle 'liastus and the
doctor talked politics; and talked all the
rest of the evening, after Wilson had
gone up stairs and while Undo 'Rastus
dozed. - . . s .
Wilson was waked by a sharp shaking
tat uan-past ICU
'See here wake up I I want to talk."
said Tom. sittins? down nn tbo .iw'-
feet. "See here, Wilson I'm gone this
time !"
"Where?" said the doctor, sleepily.
"I'm in love! Yes no fooling. I'm
going to marry her if I can get her!"
"Who?"
"Why, Susy I" cried Tom, wildly.
The doctor sat up, fully roused.
4Susyl" he echoed, sternly; "your
aunt's servant girl! Are you crazy,
Bronson? What will Your nprvnl-
But, pshaw ! you're talking bosh !
Wilson lay down again.
'Bosh?" cried Tom, almost deliriously.
"You'll see! Bosh? I'd marry her if
she was a crossing sweeper! She's the
loveliest, sweetest creature in the world
I'll have her if I die for it I"
Wilson laughed drily.
"You're crazy 1" he repeated. "You'll
be over it by morning. If you ain't, I'll
put you into an ice-pack."
And he went to sleep, in the middle of
a second frantic protest from the excited
lover.
But Tom was not "over it" by morn
ingnor by the end of the first week.
It was a hard week for the doctor.
"You're making a fool of yourself,
Bronson," he said, almost tearfully, sev
eral times a day. "What will your
mother aay, and all the rest of them?
You don't really mean to go any further
with it? Come now, be sensible. You
want a girl that's your equal in birth and
fortune when you do marry; not a poor
and uneducated girl you'd be ashamed of.
Don't, Bronson!"
"Ashamed of 1" Tom would , retort
hotly. "You don't . know her, Wilson
Ashamed of her? Never! I'm goin to
have her if it's a possible thing."
And he would stride off, generally in
the direction of the kitchen. .
The climax came on the morning of
the eighth day. The doctor had taken a
walk, and was changing his muddy boots
in his room, when Tom bounded in,
breathless, aud excitedly red of face.
"She's mine!" he shouted, leaping
across the room. "She's mine! Do
you hear?" ' : - . ' : -
The doctor, in a spirit half of irony
and half of real alarm, sprinkled ahand
f ul of water from the pitcher on the
young man's head.
"We're engaged!" Tom went on,
pantingly. "Not, quite, you know; she
says she's only known me a week, and
she won't call it an engagement ; but
she'll think about it, and she'll write to
me, and oh, it's as good as settled !"
"Is it?" said the doctor grimly. "I
guess not not till I've made an effort
to unsettle it. You're young and hot
headed, Bronson" the doctor was two
months the senior "and I'm going to
prevent your making the worst mistake
a fellow of your family and fortune
could make. I'm going to let your
people know what you're doing."
And five minutes later he was re-arrayed
in his overcoat and muddv boots.
and was going down stairs with a sealed '
letter, followed by Tom, pouring forth a i
tuuua oi mmgieu remonstrance and defi
ance. The sitting-room door stood open
"Here she is I" said Tom. forjrettino-
everything, but his happiness, and flv-
'
ing m to join Aunt Sally's charming hired
girl on the sofa.
Aunt Sally sat in the largest rocker
Her good-natured face wasVbwing with I
Sleasure, and she burst out into serenely i
elighted speech at the stent of Tom
Wilson paused in the doorwav to hear ;
her, with a stern frown, which gradually ,
faded.- J j
ci.v, i in- i i, , :
u 'J
r .? gises luoier
enthusiasm, "an' T dnn't tnnv incf wVion
I don t know jest when
I've been so gli
u "j"g. a i
busy, fust night she come, I did
you'd take a fancy to each other.
hope
1 ve.
anus peen afraid Susy 'd have to marry
ro suit ner pa, ana not her own self.
Her pa's alius been sot on her marrvin'
somebody with money. He says, out
and out, the match 'd be onequal if she
didn't. Susy haviu' so much in her own
right and he bein' so rich, he wan't
goin' to have her takin' up with no poor
young man if he knew it. I do consider
that money makes folks terrible proud
and overbearing though your pa's a well
meanin' man enough, Susv, and own
cousin to 'Rastus."
The doctor was staring broadly; Tom
was open mouthed.
"Own cousin!" he gasped. "Why
and warm water into pan of flour a
table.
why nd Susy -raiting yout Why, 1
thought, Aunt Sally -"
The hired girl begsfh to laugh.
"I knew VOU thought so." she rrir-d.
; gany; "and it was so funav I couldn't
h.lf7is-- si "r -ri'"":
' r1 MU lo..e nai
., - , j xt was jusi use a ridiculous
. ...u iu imnic, just because I had
j Aunt Sally's apron and was helping
i that I was the o-ii-l vi, t
man to think. it tvonu t
her,
i " :5". wny.ifiadon
, my bracelets and all mv rinfrs that verv
evening.
and a gold pin in my hair, and
you never noticed. Oh,
dear ! it's been
w juuuii iun an a onw.
And I didn't
i do it for that purpose
girls in stories; but I'v
you know, like
e found mil that
you nice me for myself, anyhow."
The doctor looked wilted, and Tom,
with one arm around Susy's waist,
tuiucu to look at him, with a calm
smiie,
i v. . married her anyhow,"
T 1 1.1, . -
i " remarked, confident v: and Wilsm,
; K.ne tfiat he would haxro V-mmn I
: 3- .
Preacher aud Sailor.
t A story of Theodore Parker, which the
Listener believes has never been in print,
was told him by a venerable gentleman
prominent in free religious circles:
.Many years ago," said the narrator of
i Jr "fluent, "about the time when
barker began to preach in Music Hall. I
was called upon one day by a Yankee
sailor, who was a good deal of a thinker
on religious subjects, and who rook aa
interest when he was in port, in hearing
the leading religious orators speak, and
m visiting the places where free thought
was expressed. It may seem Strang
now that a common sailor should fre
quent the lecture rooms, but this was in
a, day when there were more sailors than
there are now, and when the majority of
them were of a different type from the
one that prevails nowadays. Well, this
sailor told me that he had not only been
to hear Parker, but had visited him in
his study the day after he had heard the
sermon. Parker Was interested in the
man, and asked him what he thought of
his sermons.
The sermon
was first-rate, Mr.
Parker,' said the
sailor, 'but I didn't
care so much for the prayer.'
wnat was there about the
Inaf rmi 1 r l oi i i -
prayer
u.i juu uiuu t utter asKea r'arKer.
'Now, Theodore Parker had a way, as
you may remember,, of making pretty
long prayers, and of embodying the
Lord's Prayer in them, every Sundav.
He closed his prayer generally with the
Lord's Praye. So he might have guessed
what the sailor was coming to when he
answered: v
" 'Iknow it was from the Bible, Mr.
Parker, that sentence in your prayer
that I didn't like; but I don't like it, all
the same."
" 'WelL what sentence was it?'
" ' It was where you prayed the Lord
not to lead us into temptation. Now,
do you suppose, Mr. Parker that the
Lord would lead us into temptation?"
"Theodore Parker remained silent for
a moment, and then said:
" 'No, my good man; I don't believe
he would.'
" 'Then,' said the sailor, 'I wouldn't
pray to him not to do it.'
"The sailor left the great liberal. It
was some weeks after the incident that
the sailor called upon me. I was curious
to see for myself whether he had
told the truth, and I went to hear Mr.
Parker the next Sunday at Music Hall
to see whether he had changed his prac
tice with regard to the prayer, and found
that the sailor's criticism had, indeed,
made its impression."
"Did he cease reneatinff the Lord'i
prayer?" asked the Listener?"
"No, but he repeated it with a varia
tion. Instead of saying : 'Lead us not
into temptation,' ho said, 'Lead us from
temptation,' and he continued to use that
form, I am sure, as long as he lived."
Boston Tranmript.
Strange Uses f Some Gravestones.
Nothing goes on in an uninterrupted
career in this world, however, and even
gravestones come now and then to strange
uses. In a village in Maine, for instance,
a farmer, having waxed in fortune until
he was able to replace the slate grave
stones in his family burial lot by marble
ones, was too thrifty to throw the old
slabs away. He therefore utilized them
as door-stones, so .that all visitors to the
kitchen and dairy trod upon inscriptions
gradually fading away, which, with
scriptural phrase and the cheerful over
seeing of triangular-visaged cherubs, re
corded the names, the virtues and the
untimely taking off of the forefathers of
the thrifty farmer.
In! another Maine village is, or was, a
boarding school for young ladies, in the
kitchen of which alarge whit e marble slab,
sacred to the memory of a worthy woman,
whom it described as having died in the
Lord, was used as a kneading-board. Now
and then a loaf of bread after it was
molded would rest for a moment or two
on tha deeply cut inscription, and the
pupils averred how truthfully the edi
tor makes no pretense of being able to
determine that they had been able to
decipher bits of the words printed on the
bottom of the slices of bread.
But, perhaps, the most remarkable
fate for a tombstone was that which be
fell the moss-grown slab iu an English
church-yard. An American parvenu of
the same family name as that of the man
whose death the stone recorded, pur
chased the stone of a dishonest sextou and
brought it home with her. It is now set
in into the wall of her sumptuously ap
pointed New York library, beside a fic
titious pedigree, which lies to all be
holders by tracing the family of the
present owner back to that of the man
whose name is on the stone. As lie has
been dead 170 years, he is probably be
yond caring for' such thiDgs, else Mrs.
Parvenu might have good reason to ex
pect a call from his ghost some night,
come to reclaim his gravestone. Potion
Courier.
A Parisian Color Custom.
Business people in Paris have long since
formed a color speech, by which rertain
trades are easily recognized. First of aH,
the color shops are distinguished by
being painted outside in squares and
mIes f'1 the mst brilliant colors. i-
f nne Ieatner' bronze aQ "inkrt
have begun to use the Austrian coiors,
yellow and black ; then the .cpaui.h wine
op ?, ellow and redjie Italian,,
green, white and red. The business places
, ' . . r - i"aL"
wiere furniture cart- for removal ar kent
are painted veii0w, as we'd a-the
wagons
uv. uoi ccu trie proprietors Know.
Pastry shops are light brown outsid.
and within white and gold, so that -one
is reminded of the pastry itself.
Milk shops are white and blue, both
inside and out. The washerwomen now
begin to paint the outside of their ironinir
shops a bright blue, while th carts that
take tha linen to the washhouses in tha
country are bright green. Winehou?es
are all painted brown or a dull red, which
is exactly the color of the vin ordinaire
mixed with cranberry juice and logwood.
Still darker is the color of the charcoal
shops, which the dust soon renders com
pletely black. Bakers are fond of light
brown and white, with much gilding
and large mirrors. Cotr' Journal.
WOMAN'S WORLD.
PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR
FKMIMNE READERS.
A Queer Gown.
nere, for the satisfaction of Atuerir an
womankind, says the Paris correspondent
of the New Yrk Times, is something
about a dress which the ladies are talk
ing about, and which I was taken to see.
It is one of a series calculated to make
Mrs. Langtry outshine the lilies that were
satisfied to sun ply do nothing but eclipse
Solomon. The dress changes Mrs.
Langtry into a good imitation of a gray
bat. The wings are in black tulle
covered with jet,and in front a loose tunic
of golden China crape, all embroidered
in gold and jet, is fastened on the chest
by a real stuffed bat with diamond eyes
The effect is more alluring than strikin".
A Tribute to the Quiet Girl.
The quiet girl never wears high colors
on the street. You do not see her flaunt
ing in brilliant plaids when they happen
to bciu the style. When high hats are
"in" she does not pile hers so high that
it sweeps the cobwebs from the sky.
She do?s not wear an exasperated b.inir
when the bang is in vogue, r.or the big-
gest bustle in town, nor the longest train
to her tea gown, nor the greatest number
of bangles when bangles reign. P,ut be
cause she does not chatter and giggle and
make herself conspicuous in horse cais or
at matinees, does not anujuce her con
victions on aM occasions and all subjects,
and profess her admirations at every
turn, it must not be supposed that she
has no ideas, convictions or enthusiasms;
that she moves along like a star m the
heavens, which obeys the laws of gravita
tion without selecting its course or ob
jecting to its orbit, "it i.s the o.uiet girl
who makes the best match, who fills the
niches Avhich her more brilliant sisters
leave vacant, who manages the servants,
runs the sewing-machine, remembers the
birthdays, listens to the reminiscences of
the old and often keeps the wolf from
the door. Eatston (Pain.) Arja.
A Story of Jenny f.iiul.
The following is a characteristic storv
related of Jennv Lind.
,
It is contained
in a letter, written from Paris iu 1847,
to Douglas Jerrold, by a novelist of some
repute in his day : " I am somehow re
minded of a good story I heard the other
night from a man who was a witness of it
and an actor in it. At a certain Ger
man town last autumn theie was a tre
mendous furor about Jenny Lind, who,
after driving the whole place mad, left
it on her travels early one morninsr. The
moment her carriage was outside the
gates, a party of rampant students, who
had escorted it, rushed back to the inn.
demanded to be shown to her bed-room,
swept like a whirlwind up-stairs into the
room indicated to them, tore up the
sheets and wore them in strips as decora
tions. An hour or two afterward a bald
old gentleman of amiable appearance, an
englishman, who was staying in the
hotel, came to breakfast at the table
a note, and was observed to be much
aisturoea in mmd and to show great
terror wnenever a student came near him
a a. l j i ? i .
at last ue saia in a low voice to some
people who were near him at the table :
You are English gentlemen, I observe.
Most extraordinary people, those German?.
Students, in a body, raving mad, gentle
men!" 'Oh, no,' said somebody else;
excitable, but very good fellows and
very sensible.' 'By God, sir,' returned
tne oia gentleman, still more disturbed,
'then there's something political in it
and I'm a marked man. I went out for
a little walk this morning after shavinsr
J l-i .v . ... . O
ana wnne l was gone ' he tell into a
terrible perspiration as he told it ' they
burst into my bedroom, tore up my sheets
and are now patrolling the town in all
directions with bits of 'em in their
buttonhole.' " It is needless to add that
they had gone into the wrong bedroom.
Shopping in Paris.
Paris is the banner city for shopping.
They have numberless stores there of the
kind in our Sixth avenue, but some are
several times larger than any in New
York. The principal ones are the Bon
Marche (which, in spite of the literal
definition of the words, means simply
"cheap"), the Magasin du Louvre, the
Belle Jardiniere (the pretty female gar
dener), and the Petite St. Thomas. You
shop on three floors of the Bon Marche.
It covers three sides of a block, and its
stables opposite are among the sights of
Paris so many horses are kept for show
there and all the stable appointments are
so neat and pretty. The stable building
is altogether handsomer than the storo
itself. Everybody in Paris goes every
where in cabs, and when you leave your
cab it is driven at least a block away to
a place where it falls in line with half a
mile of cabs and awaits vour call. Its
number is in your possession on a card
wnicn you Keep, as you enter the shop
you are impressed with the heaps of !
goods you see displayed there the pas
sages being all but blockaded by the bar
gain counters, ana goods being fairly
heaped and piled up all around in a way
and to an extent that you never see in
New York. Everything appears to be
ticketed, and you see the prices without
having to ask for them. The slides of
the great wall through the centre of the
building are all draped with goods, and
there is such a profusion of things that
it can be likened to nothing so well a3 a
clothes fair. It is a French idea to catch
i ue customer s eye, and the effect is not i
so neat and trim that prodS bv Zl
methods. " . !
The system of selling goods in P iris ' comPoseA of lengthwise rows of cord
is clumsy. Suppose ou are buvW I Passementce and black velvet ash ril
glovcs. When you have made y our 'pur ! b.on .T1f rioni l"ch is seven oi
chases the clerk who waited on vou j e,ght inches wide, has inch-wide stripes
tikes the gloves and the memorandum of velvet au,t PPe1 silk.
oi wnat ne nas sold you in his hand and '
ays: "Will you step this wav
iic ieaas you to wiiat is
called a caisse. There are several of
these caisses on each floor. They are
little square places, divided from the
rest of the place by counters, behind
which are the clerks and the people who
3o up the parcels. You and yout clerk
itaud in a great crod of persons waiting
their turn. When your turn comes vour
clerk calls out what you have bought to
clerk in the caisse, who tops to put it
all down. Wheu he has done this and
added up the sums in the list he tells
you the total and you pay. Then your
cleik :iks whether you will have " the
artioi.ca -cnt or whether' voir will take
them yourself. One New York lady
ordered her purchases sent, and after two
days werd d asked why they had not
come, she had this eDerience: bhe
was taken to what they call the Bureau
de Reclamation, where all her statemeats
were verified by an examination of many
book
Then it appeared that the con-
cicrae
at the hotfl hnd c.iid that the
lady was out when the goods came, and
that he had coauthoritv to sign for her.
The
were to be sent again that
night.
A word about this concierge. He is
the greatest aid and chief reliance of the
lady shopper abroad. He is found
in
every hotel, occupving a little box oriand. if fireproof, it has at lrfist one enh.
ofrire in each hotel. He is a bureau of
information, speaks all languages, and !
knows all about his town where th
best shops are, what theatres are cpen
and the prices at each, and all about
what sights to see and how to see them.
He sells you your stamps, makes "change
for you, posts your letters, and is not too
proud or important to run out and hire a
cab or execute any other little commis
sion for you, in which respect, he ap
proaches much more nearly to a state of
true usefulness than the clerk of the
hotel, for whom the lady shopper has no
earthly use. If you don't pay for what
you buy at any of the shops he will pay
for them when the commissionaire brings
them, if you tell him to, or he will sijjn
for them and you pay him afterward. The
commissionaire calls again for the money.
You always tip the concierge, irivinghim
the highest tip. The next highest tip is
for the head w aiter, the next for yout
own waiter, then a smaller one to the
Boots, then to the chambermaid, and
finally to the boy in the lift or elevator,
if you wih to do the eminently proper
thing. . - i
There are no cash boys or girls oi
change railroads or anything of the sort
in the Paris stores, but there is one very
nice custom there, that of seating everv
lady who comes in. You never stand to
do your shopping m Paris.
The mo-
ment vou sneak to a rb ik.
I female", he or she steps around the counter
male or
! ana places a chair for you without wait
j ing to see whether vou'are going to pur-
chase or not. No matter how small the
shop may be this is always the rule. In
I the larger Parisian stores there is a room
elegantly fitted for ladies, where there i.s
every convenience that ladies can require,
and it contains a free lunch counter .sup
plied with different kinds of cordials and
nice cakes. There is a row of bartenders
or w aiters continually placing glasses and
calling oil what they have to offer. The
favorite drinks are gros eille (currant
juice), raspberry vinegar, orgeat, thin
wines of various sorts, orange liower cor
dial, and half a dozen other beverages.
There is a tempting display of fancy
cake, and no charge is made for any
thing. A great display is made on the side
walks outside these stores. All around
outside the s-hopsare counters laden with
wdiat we call bargains in this country.
There you see umbrellas, parasols, canes,
ribbons, dress goods, handkerchiefs,
and, in short, nearly everything. There
are other bargain counters inside the
stores.
One feature of shopping peculiar to
Paris is that you can buy ladies skirts
ready made, beautifully put together,
draped in the latest fashion, and at very
reasonable prices. You get cloths to
match for the waists, and can take the
goods up stairs to be made in the dress
making department, or you can take
them to your own dressmaker to be made
up. In the same stores the displays oi
ready-made dresses and wrappers are
.enormous.
When you leave the Bon Marche you
find several commissionaires at the door,
and to one you give the number of your
cab. He touches his cap and is off like
a shot, to reappear presently riding in
side your cab. You are forbidden to
fee him, nut you do it, and tie is de
lighted. Faahion .Votes.
A stylish jacket of tan color W nuied
with black astrakhan.
Barritz gloves are still the stylish weai
ior every day and are stitched m white,
rwii i.i i .
ine ivory wnite snaaes in s&tm are
those that brides prefer for the wedding
aress.
Siam red is seen in velvet and makes
charming wraps either in plush velvet or
ciotn.
Open worked stockings in black, silk
or fine lisle thread are worn with satin
slippers.
Moire is without question the fashion
able silk which disputes favor with peav
ue soie.
Jaunty head gear is the rule this sea
son, the sedate little close bonnet being
quite passe,
Angora fur so fluffy and becoming if
5 i a
usea on soit wooien morning gowns in
creamy white.
Striped fabrics are in the ascendant,
and vivid colors on neutral grounds the
preierred form.
Heavily embroidered cloves with
wide band on the back in white silk are
not elegant or stylish.
Soft India silk, China silk, surah, and
crepe are the proper materials for the
useful tea gown or matinee,
Belts. Dockets, bands, collars, cuffs
of seal and other furs are seen on rich
peau de soie and other silk dresses,
Striped fabrics look best when cut on
the bias for the corsage and sleeves, all
the stripes running in points down, not
upwara.
Fraizes high and of medium height
are as much in favor for dinner costumes
as the fall of lace over theV-cut bodices
and dog.
Most dinner dresses for American
women are made with high bodices or
opening only in V shape in front, but
high in the back.
Black lace dresses bid fair to never
go entirely out of fashion. They only
change their shape and under dress from
season to season.
The newest seal turbans have high-,
slender, tapering crowns, fiat on top.
The upturned brim or border is fre
quently of sable, otter, brown beaver,
1 i ' .1 '
"'T ' TT
Dressy black costumes hav
r.
essy black costumes have the skirts
Cio" naving a oortter woven on
one edge ate used ior long cloaks, the
border beii.g
placed
iu
I?! o rows upon
the front and the back. These borders
are of contrasting colors, sometimes
showing uishmere designs.
Braiding is, as every one knows, verv.
lasnionaoie m ootn wiae ana narrow
braids, and in every conceivable design.
A novelty in this line was worked in In
tricate patterns with smooth rat-tail
chenille, like that so popular in frimre
j two or three seasons ago.
j Now that plain skirts are preferred to
i all others much depends upon the per-
fection with which they are hung and the
arrangement of their draperies. The
j highest skill of the dressmaker is often
j taxed to make the skirt of a heavy cloth
j costume .stand out stylishly at the back
without visible support from beneath.
A Wire House.
A house of wire lathing is one of the
curiosities of the Manchester exhibition.
The architect is Mr. G. F. Armitage,
and the wire lathing is stated to resist
fire. This wire lathing can be applied
to ordinary wooden beams ; and it can
be used for the partitions by itself ; while
wire cloths of various kinds form parts
of the same invention. It will be seen
that the eoif.io-n is nput i a.i-u-.in-.n
stantial property to recommend it.
CnseWs. .
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES PROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
A
Liender, Not a Borrower Flat
tened Trifle The Reason
"Why Overheard in the
Alley, Etc., Etc
Wife (to unhappy husband) "I
wouldn't worry, John ; it doesn't do any
good to borrow trouble."
Husband ' Borrow trouble ? Great
Csesar, my dear, I aiu't borrowing trou
ble; I've got it to lend." Epoch.
Flattened a Tiifle.
Wife (to husband who has been to
New York) "You murmured in your
sleep last night, John, about seeing an
elephant in New York."
Husband- "Er um did T, my dear."
u ue ies anairom uie appearance
of your pocket-book, which you left on
the mantelpiece, I think the e.epnant
must have stepped ou it." Aco lori
ite les. andtrom the appearance
Sun,
The Reason Why.
Customer -'Is yo;irmil!c really pure:'
Milkman " Perfectly pure, ma'am.''
C. (dubiously) " Jt may be, bat"
M. " But what, ma'am?''
C " It looks mighty blue."
M." That's easiiy accounted for.
The cows arc feeling blue. They always
feel blue at this time of the year, when
their supply of fresh grass is cutoff."
Judge
Overheard in the Alley.
First Newsboy "I tell you, Billy
pounded him over the head awfully."
Second Newsboy" What Billy ?"
First Newsboy " Tho policeman's
billy."
Second Newsboy " You think yer
smart, don't yer 1 Jimmv told yer
that."
First Newsboy " What Jimmy ?"
Second Newsboy "The burglar's
jimmy."
First Newsboy "Pooh ! Think yer
miart, don't yer V Philadelphia Call.
Two Opinions.
Wife (to. husband who has just re
turned from Europe) "Did you see any
body whom you knew on your way up
town, dear? "
Husband " I saw Brown. He said I
was looking thinner than when I went
away."
Wife "Anybody else?"
Husband "Yes; I met Robinson. He
thought from the amount of flesh I had
gained that my trip must have done mej
good." Ejjoch.
An International Promenade.
Distinguished Foreigner "Those men
across the street seem to be attracting a
great deal of attention."
American ' ' Yes ; the one on the right
is Mr. O'Shaunnessy, the great American
pugilist."
Distinguished Foreigner "And the
one on the left?"
American "That is Mr. Mulhooly,
the great English pugilist."
Distinguished Foreigner "I see. Who
are the other two?"
American r-" One of them is Mr. Mul
cahey, the noted feather-weierht Cana
dian, and the other is Mr. McMoriarity,
the Australian heavy-weight. " Puck.
Cold Fact.
Jones ' ' What do you call a cold fact,
Smith that is to say, what kind of a
fact is a cold fact I"
Smith "Well, I should call a naked
fact a cold fact."
J. " Just so. A naked fact would
certainly have some excuse for being a
cold fact at this season."
S. " What I mean is that a statement
of fact, pure and simple, without anv
verbiage, comes under the denomination
of a cold fact ; such as, for instance, you
owe me $5."
J. "I know I do."
S. " I'm simply illustrating. That's
a cold fact."
J. "If I say: 'I can't pay you just
now,' is that a cold fact too i "
S. (sadly)" I'm afraid it is."
J. "Well, let's go and take some-
thing warm." Boston
Couner.
He Explained It.
"Jones," asked one traveling man of
another, "did you ever study natural
history any ?"
"No, I never did."
"Then you don't know anything about
the habits of insects?"
"Nothing. Why do you ask?"
"Because I take an interest in those
things, and there is one question that
has been puzzling me for some time."
"What is that?"
"How do the wasps and hornets and
other insects keep from freezing to death
in the winter?" ,
' 'Why, that's simple enough ; vouidever
handled a wasp did you?"
"JNo, 1 never did."
"That accounts for your ignorance on
the subject. If you ever bad any ex
perience with a wasp or a hornet you'd
now right well that there was heat
enough there to last two or three winters
if need be." Merchant-Traveler. 1
A Homely Wife. 1
A good story is told, savs the Washing
ton Capital, of one of the fair dames of
the diplomatic corps who recently called
at the residence of a Government official
whose wife is noted for her domesticity.
The husband himself chanced to be at
home, and pending the descent of ma-
dame from the nursery went into the
drawing-room to greet the lovely for
eigner. The following conversation en
sued: "Ah, monsieur, vou have one verv
homely wife!"
J he host, whose better half was reallv
not distinguished for her beauty of face,
which, however, was more than corgpen-
saieo. ior Dy a superb figure, a graceful
itammered in reply :
"Ah, madame! why, really do you
know I "
"Yes," innocently explained his visitor
in her pretty, broken English; "yes, she
very homelv.
In fact, she stay at home
ill the time."
Silence.
When I am gone, oh! think of inc."
wailed a serenader over and over strain
under 1 he window of a Calumet avenue
house the other night. A fter he had said
it for the fifteenth time a fat and furious
red face appeared at the upper window,
and a masculine voice hissed out :
les in, young man. I will remember i
you, and you'll remember me for a long !
tune after you're gone, if you don't put
out in less n three seconds T'vo rmf n
old horse pistol urt here with a nound
and a half of cold had in it that T'll
give you as a memento of me if vou
don't stop tootin' and bawlin' under
this window at an hour when decent
folks are abed. Now vou fo home!"
The sweet song died awav into silence.
thelips of the sweet singer were dumb and
ae fcihcd heavilv as he sdiin his guitar
lJ
over his shoulder and ambled off into tha
cold Sworld with a suspicious policeman
following in his wake. Dttwit Free-
Pre' v, : V
Poor Man
A burglar got into the 'house of a frail
looking, sad-eyed little widow in Tucson
the other night. Not finding any valua
bles down stairs he stealthily ascended
to the second-floor and entered the room
where the sleeping and unsuspecting
woman lay with a smile that told of
pleasant dreams on her lips.
Roughly shaking her the dastardly in
truder said grufRy: .
"Here, wake up; now just you keep
cool; nouseyeling; I know as well as
you do that you're alone in the house;
just hand over the keys to here, stop
that! let go! help! murder! help! help!
O-o-o-h! O-h-h-h!"
When the police finally got there they
found the burglar done up with a clothes
line as neatly as a groc er does "up ten
pounds of sugar. He was just openmj
j jlig 3 ia the coming' to': process;
wben they rested ou the" little widow
j tl took oa ft beseeching look hs he
ghiC.erea and an out:- -
" Don't leave me aloue with her :ii,-aio,
gentlemen; please don't. -J'e killed
Uocky Mountain lions and sh bears
with young cubs, and tackled two hyena
at a time, but this is my first experience
with a lone Arizony widder. " Cau't. you
loosen these ropes a little and see how
many of my ribs is broke, and roll mo
over so's I can keep from swallowing the
teeth she's knocked out ; and I'd like a
poultice on my eye soon as possible, and
I need sewing lip in a dozen place?. I'm
fpfird Pll npvur liiiUrTrvnTYrfli ji.i Ciintk.
men." Detroit Free J'rtss.
Wonderful Waterworks.
In India tanks aud reservoirs were con
structed on an enormous scale and w ere
the chief dependence during, droughts.
In Constantinople, the capital of the
Eastern Empire, the Romans left '.nmier
ous subteriauean reservoirs covered villi
stone arcades resting on pillars.
The waterworks of Athens weie begun
about 3G0 B. C, and consisted of Moue
aqueducts lined with baked clay ind
carried almost wholly ou the surface of
the ground.
Carthage was supplied by witei
! brought from the hill ranges on the ?oulh.
over seventy miles distant, mid the ruins
of an aqueduct, built in the Roman styk,
may still be seen.
In France the famous Pout du ?:trd
aqueduct, which supplied the towa of
Nismes, is still an object of interest. It.
consists of three tiers of arches, the low
est of six. supporting eleven of
spa in the central tier,
' aa. CJ -.i
surmounted by
thirty -five of smaller size. Its height is
180 feet, with a channel of o feet hi"u
i 1 1 r4. mi . ?,
vj icci viuc. iuc uapacny was Cli
mated at 14,000,000 gallons per day.
In the yearC00;B. C, Polycrate. King
of Bamos, built an aqueduct to supply
his capital, bringing water through h
tunnel driven., for over 0,000 yards through -a
limestone rock, whilo about th-saiue
time the people of Lycia, in Asia Minor,
car; ied water across the Nale of Patera
through a stone syphon, which would in
dicate that the ancients were not igno
rant of the laws of hydrostatics.
Among the great waterworks of the
world those of Tern were in some re
spects the most difficult achievements'
any. The Incas built aqueducts from the
slopes of the Andes for a distance of
over 100 miles, to the capital, carrying the
water partly through tunnels put in the"
rocks and partly on arcades on support
ing pillars of mason work to span valleys,
the channels being composed of cut stone
without cement. From these great aque
ducts a number of branch cdndujts and
furrows 'are laid laterally for irrigation
purposes.
The ancient waterworks at -Jerusalem
consisted first of wells inr the limestone
ridges on which the city was built; but
as the population increased the Jew.
were obliged to gather the rainfall during
the winter season and store it in tanks and
cisterns placed in secure enclosures 3nd
within the walls of the temple. An aque
duct, constructed of stone laid in cement
brings water from the pools of Bethlehem,
about six miles, to a tank lying under tho
chief Turkish mosque "iThe population
of Jerusalem seldom suffered from, water
fnminp fstralm mpntlnno a ci-.ir(l.;n
remarkable that there was always a plenti
ful supply of water within the city while
a famine prevailed in the region around
about. iiew Fork Graphic.
Maternal Magnetism.
. Why is a mother's hand on the head of
a sick child so soothing? Because her
love supplies electricity, which is a cura
tive force and a tonic. Animal elec
tricity is an agency not so well under
stood as it should be by women, though
mey use it continually, jc is erroneous
ly confounded with the massage treat-
ment, which is nothing more or less than
merely rubbing the entire body. Animal
electricity is imparted by careful manipu
lation of the muscles, performed by
gently stretching them with both hands.
This produces an elasticity of action
which causes them to rise, thereby in
creasing their power to act. Women
whose fingers are supple and yet strong
can best impart electricity to their chil
dren. The treatment should be applied
mainly with the lingers. When the
nerves are prostrated they can be in
vigorated in the same way. They should
be gently pressed in one direction and
another, which tends to increase their
vitality. The general circulation can be
increased by lightly moving the hands
over the surface of blood vessels, not
rubbinir them brisklv but ucinr onAn,
. c j , ......g iuvutu -
force to quicken the circulation. Wo
men can become thorough animal elec
tricians it they will but devote them-
selves to a careful study of anatomy.
The worlT is full of half-invalid women,
who should be restored to health by this
natural method. Drugs will not help
thera, but animal electricity applied
under the right condition will. Wo
man's Argosy.
Armor Against Powder and Ball.
By 1450 the simplest complete armor
for horse and man cost about 512,000 of
our money, a large sum for a single sol
dier. One shot might ruin all this, and
knights, brave with their Jives, hesitated
to risk a property po valuable and so hard
to replace. Thus ihc nobles retir- d to
the rear of battle, and in the pay of the
fifteenth century Princes, half -armed
light cavalry appeired, doin.j real ser
vice, but requiring time to ohtain any
prestige. The knights did not Jearn
their lesson, but went on'mak ing armor
i heavier, to resist the effects of powder.
Thev had a momentary success at Forno-
vo. but 'at . Marignano and Ravenna the
Swiss and Spanish infantry handled
them roughly, while Pavia proved their
inefficiency to all. It seemed to tnem
terrible that such a knight as Bayard
fchould have his back broken by a pinch
of powder and a shot from a common sol
dier; but the change had to come. We
lind the buff boot on the gentlemen who
charge at Ivry, and, in spite of Louis
XIIL, armor in his reign degenerated
into a gala costume. ttcribtur. ,