'â€" â€"_._â€".â€"_.._____ CURRENT £0758. .†The able writer of the Revue Bleue who recently attunpted to explain why book: are written has not down a num- ber of attractive reasons. all eminent» ly Parisian both in their smartness and PETER’S_WOOING. A SKETCH FROM LIFE. \Vhy didn't I marry Mary Jane? Well. I'll jest tell 'ee. \Vhen I was a young chap, I worked their inadequacy. It is doubtless true, along 0' Farmer Simms up at Fowley. as they say in Paris, that one writes a book because he is a great genius, another because he is a great; tool, but it is very hard ‘to get at the truth by habitually thinking in epigrams. and the epi- = gram is a Parisian habit of long stand- Ing. The question of why books are; written is that of why literature exists. 3 It is the very serious and not whollyl explicable one of why men should strive to express themselves at all. Back of; the impulses of individual genius or in-Z dividunl folly which move this man orl that to authorship is a, general impulse which has prevailed in all ages, which} is greater than the highest intellect.[ which brings unwasted into the sum of intellectual achievement even the ab- surd products of the weakest vanity of authorship. Regardless of how It comes to be true, it certainly is true that no man ever wholly escapes what may be call- ed the "pedantic impulse" manifestingi Itself in the desire to teach others what he knows or thinks he knows; It is an impulse which has the most variousrc, suits. It may make him a university president, or simply a Fagin keeping a training-school for pickpockets, but still he is bound by the law that if he learns he must teach. Why else did Colum- bus tramp foot-sore over Spain, or Gal:- ileo retract under his breath the re-' oantation he had made above it? Or! why did Bunyon go to Bedford jail.l or Byron hurl his defiance in the face; of his crilits, or the blushing and accom- i plished high-school graduate at last week's commencement read her really admirable essay on the causes and efâ€" fects of civilizationil It is one and the same reason in every case; The hum- an nature a man has in him. whether animal or intellectual, good, bad or in- different, must come outta 1\Vhat hei knows or thinks he knows is part. of- himself, and he can no more suppress it than he can suppress and keep down himself as he really is. All literature, everything that been written from the earliest picture-é writing to the latest summer novel,is' a result of the struggle for more ade- quate intellectual expression, and whe-1 ther it be wise or foolish in itself it: helps along the general result. Good-l ness and badness in literature are re-i lative terms at; any rate.« The book} which might degrade one intellect may elevate another. The picture which toI the eye of one person is a blur of crude ! and glaring color may be to another‘ an elevating lesson in the beautiful. By the same rule no book can be positive- ly bad unless it is positively vicious, All other books are written under thel operation of the law which has work- ed out civilization, and through it theyi are helping to work out a coming civ-‘ lllzation that will be higher still. m..___.â€"â€".â€"-â€"~~â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"- LONDON FOG PRECAUTIONS. Cost Butnlled on the ltallroud Companies by n llcuvy Jllst. It has been imputed that a fog costsi the metropolis from £50,000 to £100,000l. a day.l A large portion of this ISbOI‘IlBl by the railroad companies. As soon as the fog descends the plate-layers, with- but waiting orders leave their work and undertake the duties of fogsignalmcn. For this they receive an extra shilling; a day. This appears a small item,yety a single fog has been known to cost: over £50 for extra. wages to plate-lays; ers at Clapham Jilllcilull alone. . 1 Each fogsignalinan is supplied With; a lantern, flags and a. supply of de-; tonators.. By means of these be con-; veys to the engine drivers fhe Signals; which they cannot: distinguish throughl the mist.. "Caution" is given by ai single detonaton “Dan er" by two de-- tountoxs placed upon t e rails at al distance of ten yards apart; _Detonctt-. ore are small tin boxes two inches in diameter each containing three percus- sioucn sands small quantity gunpow- der. . t the base of each are two strips of lead for fastening it to the rail.: They are made with rent care, chief-1 ly in Birmingham on London. and itl is rarely that one fails to explode. The wholesale price of detonators is one penny each. and the average annual con- eumption of each big railway company, is about 150,000 costing £625. Wm- M. l WHY HE REGRET-TED. : An old Scotchman who had been ’8‘ ion time in the colonies paid a visit’ to is "native glen." and. meeting an old schoolfellow they sat down to have a chat about old times and old acquain- . teuces. _ 1 In the course of the conversation the; stranger happened to ask about a cer-, tain beardie McKay. . _ 5 He's dead lang ago, card his friendp en“ I'll never cease rogrettin' him 353 lung as I live. 1 Dear mel Had on such a great epect for himast ti ._ . g No, not It wisna’ on'y res ' I had for himsel'. but I married his widowlt . ’n "A t .“' a DUTY. ' Mrs. De Style-“'em you at church; tut Sunde I didn't see you. l Mrs. De Fashionâ€"I new you. ' ll i †pld foul How did ycu like my new: bonnet! Oh. it was rfectly lovely! It came from Paris. ‘11:: sure. » Yes. my dear frieno, Mrs. Devout, would it in for me. their Bibles ,on that piunny. man i 'Twere a dairy farm. asye know. and farmer and his missis were jest about workers, allers at it from dawn to dark. not that they'd much call. seein' as they'd only got one child; Mary Jane. But lorl they were that set upon that gal. for all the world like a hen wi' one chick. and nothing would con- tent the old ’ooman but that Mary Jane should go to skule and learn the pianny, tho’ she and the maister didn't theirselves know “B from a bull's fut." as the sayin‘ is. There‘s too much pianny-work goin' [on in these days. I’m tould. All very Well for gentlefolks, and sich loike. but not for workin’ folks. sezs I, it makes ’em good for nought so far as I see. Teach the young uns to read and write their names, and if they has the neck 0' larnin', lor. they'll larn, as many a one has done aforel But the missis thought as how by larnin' the pianny, Mary Jane would become a lady, when, as every one knows. ye can't make a silk purse out of a sow’s ears, so what came of it? Why. when that there gal was "fin- ished." as her poor old mother called it. she Wer'n't "neither fish, flesh, nor fowl. nor good red-herrin’," as the ea in’ is. I had been worken up at the farm some years, and farmer kind o_' took to me, and so did the missrs,,I Will say that; so one day, when I were sortin’ taters in the out-’ouse. and she were a-helpin‘ a bit. sexs she:;â€" _ _ “Peter, how is it. ye am't thinkin' p' gettin' marriediâ€"ye’re twenty-Sivm abou ." . I had been aâ€"thinkin' of Bessre Lar- kins. but I didn't tell, see. 80.1 sezszâ€" “Plenty 0’ time for that mlSSlSl" "Maybe there is,†was what she said; “but I was wonderin' now as to what ye thinks 0' our Mary Jane." Well, to be plain, I fancied she were abit too top-lofty for I; but as my ole mother used to zay, "Don’t 'ee marry for money, but q where money is ;" so I jest bided a it afore I said, artful loike:â€" “Do ’ee think as how she'd look at a chape loike I, missts i" _ ‘ "Try her, Peter." sezs she. a-snick- ering. I So the next Sunday, as we come out 0’ church. I asks Mary Jane to go_fo.r a walk wi’ I, which she seemed m01gh~ ty pleased to do; but lorl she were that foine, all frills and furbelows. with a purr'sol, tool that I were a- most’. ashamet for the Village chaps to see her . know what to say to she neither; non; loike when Bessie were wi' I. So on We goes, she a mincin' lorke a. cat on hot bricks, and there was .I. for all the world loike a toad under a. hurrer, all the whoiles aâ€"wishin' I never asked she to. take a walk. By'm-by. we come u to a field 0’ turmuts which I'd a- hoc'd a day or two afore, and. a. night's rain had brought 'em up tome. Sezs Mary Jane with her purrysol top a.- tween her lips:â€" "How wonderful are the works 0' natur.†“Natur be all ver well," seys I. "but if that there fie (I had been left to natur, ne’er a turmut would lat-been there for weeds, so I tell ’ee plain." Mary Jane she tossed up her head scornful loike, and the flowers and ribbons in her bonnet jest about ne_d- died and noddlcd; so on we goes. till as I moinds We come to that stile which leads into Higher Croft, .and us 1 was agoin to help she over into the field she stopped, and pointed with her pur- rysol at a old sow wii a litter 0’ young uns as were aâ€"grubbin' up the acarns jest about. "Mr. Peter, look at that creaturel But it reminds me so of dear Mr. Hogg," and how she did snicker surely. "Have you ever read Hogg's tales '1" ‘-‘Mary Jane," sezs I quite wrath; “I've a read my Bible and Catechism. and that’s as much asmost folks can, so don't 'cc go_ to make game 0’ .1; hog's tales, indeed! lejll be _say1n’ next. as how cats can grin". “’1' that I turns about a. bit houghish, when who should I see but young squire close at hand, and it’s mybelief as how Mary Jane had aâ€"seen him all along. and wanted to show off her la-rnin' to him. Hogs' tails. indech I mver got over that! At last we got back whoam. and I were mortal tired, I tell ’ee; howsom- ever, I took out Bessie arter I had milked the cows that night, and wasn't a bit weary then. Still, I were civil to Mary Jane. and didn't ask Bess to say "Yes," least- ways not then. and p'ratps niver should for Mary Jane’s own ault. tho' I'm thankful now as never was that I didn't have shel . ‘ "l‘wcrc fair day; the maister had gone with some heifers; l were left about the place. and the missus she 'were at the wash-tubâ€"the ’ooman its used to come bein’ down wi' rheuma- tics. "Wilt moind Scraps to-day, Peter? I be that pushed wi' work there be ne‘er a minnit to get dinner." . . "Tutors and sarlt u’ll do for I. masts, don't 'ee lash.†for Isce'd she were rule 'et and weary. Ari the whiles I year'd Mary Jane a-twiddling at that there blessed pianny. instead on her 'elpin' the poor tugged mother. "Nay, but thcc'll have summat else a'sides tutors and sarlt. my lad." for the missis she talk countrified at toimcs. "I'll call Mary Jane, and she’ll fry thee some bacon rashers. she be a 'andy maaid.â€tho' I sezs it as shouldn't tunbbc." “'i' that she oopcns the door into the 'ouscâ€"place, as we wrls it in our parts. and sczs out loud :â€" ".\Iary June! I wants thee. lass. The moosic stopped sudden. not that I ever cared for the noise she made I know: what rale good moosic is. for I've asuug in our choir this many a year, and played double bass too when I were young; but the missls. poor soul. thought a deal of Mary Jane's tunes. How- somcver. in she comes. dressed up lorke equirc’s lady instead of a farmer's dartcr. ."What is it, mar I" she snapped out. as .1055 as a bear with a sore head; alongside 0' I, and I didn’t‘ she allers said " and mar" since she had been to t at grand skule at hramptcn. “Mother and father" was not gluteel. she told us. "\\ ill flee fry some rashers for Peter’s dinner! I’ve cut 'em arl 'andy for thee. and there's the pan on the fire." ' I sat by wi’ a dish of mealy taters a peelin' on 'em 'ready. for. thinks I to me-self. “If I waits for that bacon. I shall be clemmed." For she took 'em up wi' a fork as if the wholesome meat was pisen. holden it off from she wi' hernose turned up in the air. and then flopped 'em into the pan. making the fat spurt out loike a good on arl over her fine frock. “Horrld stuff l" sets she, in a tiff; “I wish people would eat proper food." I went on wi’ my taters and sarlt. All at once up blazed the fat, and Marv Jane she screams out loike mad. "\Vh‘at. be'st thee doin 3" calls out the missus from the was -’us. “The nasty thing's all on fire," she screamed. "Ye've no call to mind, missis. I'll ’see to it,†says I. So I puts out the blaze, and poured out all the black fat into the hogâ€"tub aside the back door. Marv Jane never so much as said "Thank'ee," but, looking as cross as two sticks, goes on with her frying. I went back to my tattcrs and sarlt. "lV'one of that muck for me," thinks I I. .I was eating away, as toime was get- tin'-on to serve the pigs. when out screams Marv Jane again in that fak- less way of hers. "Oh! do come here, mar; all this gusty bacon IS ourlin' up, it won't keep a .5! .“La bless the lass!" cried the poor tired soul, as in she comes to see what was the matter, wiping her arms with her apron, for sh’d jest taken 'em out o‘ the soap-suds; “whativer be up wi' thee i" “I can’t f Jane; "and tool" “Get away do," said the missis. out o’ patience at last with young madam's whimsms; “a. pretty poor man's wife thee'll be.†. “I don’t intend to be a poor man's n this bacon." says Mary ook what a mess I'm in wife, sezs she. “Nor a rich' one's either." thinks I; "for a man wi' mone will want sum- mut better nor the ~Ioikes 0‘ you for his cash;" but I sed nothin' only, as I went out, I sezs be the poor old ,mis- stszâ€" ' . “I‘ve had my dinner, thank’ee ma’am" â€"I was allers a civil chapâ€"“so don't 'ee fash about frying any more, leastâ€" ways not for I.†\V i’ that I goes out to serve the pigs. which were makin’ a rare noise for their food. O t t I. O t t O i 0 That night, arter I done onk, I cleaned myself up, and went to see Bessxe Larkins; and in less than three months we were “called ‘home" at church, which is what they sezs in our part for "publishin’ the banns;" and agood wife has Bessie been to I. There she sits! She knew what work was, and did it: too, havin’ lived with old Miss Smiles for nigh upon fifteen year. As for Mary Jane, she never got. a husband wi’ all her money, for the old folks left her a tidy bit. You see she warn‘t eddicated enough to make a lady on ’er. and the little bit 0' pianny playin’, and such loike. spiled. her for rcg'lar work. Depend upon it. a real lady can turn her hand to anything, and isn’t ashamed to i own it; why I’ve known some as could do any drawin'â€"room I So that’s why I never married Mary Jane. â€"â€" A THOUSAND TEAPO’I‘S. An English Woman's Valuable Collection of Artistic annucnc “'nrc. An English woman. an artist. who spent some years in Japan, managed iwhile there to accumulate more than ‘0. thousand teapots, of which no two had the same pattern. There were black pots and white, blue pots and Igray. big pots, little ones, pots in glaze. lin yellows and browns and reds and blacks. One was like an old man whose head formed the lid, and could be set at any angle. Others were in the shape of birds, beasts and fowls, not to mention fish, frogs a. beetle or two, and a fat squirmy eel. Buddhtt even was pressed into service as a model. There was lotus-bud pots, and other pots in sem- blance of a. teahouse. One huge caldron-likc affair held three gallons, and at least a. dozen specimens would not have contained a thimbleful. Among those were several swans, all true to life, correct to the last curl of neck and feather, and of a size to be hidden to the palm of your hand. As to material, there were inlaid sil- ver, hammered wpper, iron most ex- quisitely wrought, silver-gilt alloys,and all the myriad sorts of Japanese pot- tery. It was, in fact. a liberal edu- cation in tcztpots to run an eye over the ranks of them. Several spccmons had cost nearly £20 each; yet such is the chcapucss of arâ€" tistic handicraft in the Far East that many of the others had been bought for a few pence. Altogether the as- semblage was reckoned to be worth £1,000. LIG IITNING AND TREES. Investigations made by Dr. Carl Mul- lcr. and reported in Himmel and Erdc, show that lightning prefers to strikc cortaln kinds of trees. Under the di- rection of the Lippe-Detmold Depart- ment of Forestry, statistics were gath- ered showing that in eleven years light- ning struck fifty-six mks, three or four pines. twenty firs. but not a single beech tree, althou h seven-tenths of the trees were beet: . It would seem, that one is safer in a storm under a beech tree than under any other kind. DISG USTED COM‘PLIMENT. The “gentleman farmer," so called, has to put up With my jokes at his expense in print. In real life he is not 0ftm'n treated to speeches as amusing as one which recent y came to our ea rs. Before leaving his place for a winter visit to gitycr scenes, the "farmer" of the anus: ote. called his Hibernian head man. and said: - Flynn. I have to be away for a fort~ .night. I hope everything will run smoothly on the farm. 0h. said Flynn. heartily. yo don't do a bit 0' harm sir. uhvn you're here! _ mortal thing, and. yet. well fit I patiently for their return. to Sit down in Queen Victoria's own l hails With vociferous gobbles. Long live land so, after certain necessary questions YOUNG FOLKS. f A FUNNY MARRIAGE}- Some wise body has said that 'Mar- riach are made in heaven.‘ Poi-hep. 90 â€"-that- is to say, some of them; but itis also probable that a few have been made on earth, and it is just pCBsible that some have been inn is Somewhere else. It is known that there am ministers who could write a volume of comical- ities. which they have met with at hymen's altar, and the public would be glad to road it, too. A Montreal past- or tells an amusing story of a wedding at which he officiated Sometime ago. He introduces it by the remark. that he knows of no good reason why the duly and privilege of proposing marri- age should be monopolizcd by our lord- \\'hy does not the “\x , broker. One of our interesting pets is a. mum- moth bronze turkey who rejoices in the above cognomen. and who struts vain- gloriously. admiring his plumage, ev- erywhere he takes it into his head to go. He was left an orphan at a very tender age. and the children kept him in a basket a few days and then gave him to a 'motherly turkey who receiv- ed him with the greatest show of of- fection; but he never forgot the chil- dren and would rather stay with them than with his turkey mother, which caused her no little anxiety, for her warning note, "quit, quit, quit." was sounded whenever the children came in sight, but all to no purpose. as he knew he had nothing to fear. He would eat from our hands and fly up in our laps. \Ve supposed he would grow afraid of us as he grew older and the weath- er grew cold. For weeks at a time he would not come into the yard. but his friendship was strong. and such a time when Dickey would brave the cold and come to the door begging to be let in! He would receive a welcome from the whole family, and when petted to his heart's content would run away to his mates in the barn. He was very fond of nuts of all kinds, and in the au- tumn when five-year-old Alma would take some in her apron and go out to crack them on a rock. he would stand so close and pick them up so quickly that often she could scarcely get any. I He was very fond of sitting in the ham- 110.1123? . , mock when the weather was warm and 16-3 sxr. 910889 (201116 In antibe 588t- would allow the children to haul him ed-' And F110 enllllll‘el‘ Came in- around in a little wagon or take him on, entering the room I found & dazed in their arms and rock in a rock- lOOklIlg Old man, “"110 hllfl reached in; chair, as they would a baby. .‘threo score years and tcn.’ He did not He is nearly one year old, and very ’SI’eilk' to me; he dlfl not 1001! at 1119: if large. but still only seems to grow fond- l11E looked ‘at anything It was at a little er of our society, and will not‘stay with ,iOOiSiOOl. 111_ the fur Pomsn‘ Of the liar- the rest of the turkeys at all. H6110]... I studied the Situation for a mm comes into the house when he finds the mont and concluded that there was door open, walking up and down 'the ,somethlng serious and complicated in rooms, going everywhere he can find a ‘thc mutter. door open. never making any trouble, :thing had to be done, and so I asked. or meddling with anything, merely lencouragmgly. 'Can I do anything for looking around curiously and strutting 33'011. Sll‘f' till he resembles a small balloon. When- I Alas}!!ch was no answer to my well- ever the children go in their walks gmeunt 1nterroga.mn.’l‘hcrewasnnnu'k- about the farm he always accompanies ward pause, alter which he looked at them. \Vhen they come to a fence me, somewth avkunce und apologetic-alâ€" which his size renders it impossible for ly and remarked: ‘I thought. that. may- him to get over without; assrstance. he be, yc’d be willing to tie a knot for mc.’ stands "peep, peepâ€"peeping," in his lit- ‘Do you mean that you wish me to tie “baby turkey" way, until the chil- man}? )‘011.’ dren gather him up and land him safe- ‘\\ ell, aye. that is if your reverence 1y on the other side. lilas no objection! One of their great amusements is to[ ‘Noue m the world, if you will bring dress him up in a lace hood and shawl {me a license and a lndy.’ or cape, and he seems to enjoy it. Some- I There was another pause; and then he times he wears a hat. , I c has quite islowly produced a. license from his pack- ly mxisculinit y. this 'qucstion' of popping‘i- I merely throw this out as a suggestion. After all women are wonderfully ingenious in matters pertaining to hearts and hus- bands. If Cupid but send a well direct- ed arrow into the spot which nature provided, any one of the 'weaker ves- sels' could invent a hundred and one little arts by which she would let the man know of it. He was sure this had been the case in a marriage at which he officiated some years ago. I was in my study, said he, one day, when the door- bell rang, and was promptly answered. Presently I heard a hcsitating. half- crncked voice ask, ‘Is the minister at a collection-41 felt hat, a velvet hat, a ct, opened it with great deliberation and hat made of paper and trimmed with , care, and then handed it to me, remark- flowers and lace and several others. 1mg:â€" \Vith his knit hood, for cold \vcatlier,l Oh! that's all right, sirâ€"yes, of he looks too funny for anything. Ho lcourse.’ will not wear neckties, however. hissing ‘\\'hcn do you wish me to murry you. with rage when they tie one around and where f’ . his long neck, and he can untie almost ‘Any time that will suit. you, sir.’ any kind of a knot they are tied in., 'Well, if you will oblige me by fixing He is very fond of music and will stand f the time, I will endeavor to meet your motionless by _the organ, listening to the iconvenicncc.’ children laying and never interrupt] '1!) half an hour, then,’ was the stoi- thcm wit his "gobble." He goes with Ioal rcply. them to the foot of the kill when they 'llut whcrc?’ I asked. start to school. gobbles goodâ€"bye and ‘Right here, on this spot, struts back to the house again to wait room,’ said be. which he, The license was satisfactory to me, in this had been answered, he departed to re» , turn, as he stipulaicd, in half an hour. \VILD PONIEs, If) t1flivc Illlllnutcs‘ the bell rang again, aw ere c was a. second timc; tut on Sable Bland: Off the 0035‘: 05 NO' not alone. There was a widow with him va Scotia, there are herds of wild p0. Iâ€"a widow blooming, gay with silk and nies. The winds are cold and severe jewellery, andâ€"forty? Her digestive . . organs and tuipi‘opi‘iating powors were on thls Bland' and the coats Of the evidently in high class order. l’Icr food POI-lies STOW 10118“ and coarse. almOStihad not boon taken in hmnocopnthic like wool. The ponies go in herds of l quantities; she was not a “light \vcight'; from five to twenty-five. and one is!but 59â€â€œâ€˜13' more than kw†hundred and fifty pounds avoirdupms. . rv . ' , . . “Nays leader†“18 .581,“ mm“ mm After placmgdlridc and bridegroom the grass. and the Domes teeth become ‘, in proper stunding._ordcr,.I began the worn when they are young, They care 1 marriage servu:o,â€"‘l)cur fricnds,’ said I, 1 A v ‘ . r v i ‘ for themselves even m wmter. Nol the purpose for which we mtct at this . . . . time is to unite this man and woman shelter IS provxded for them, and in the :in,»_ l winter storms they huddle together be- 'Liold on there,’ the bride interposed. bind the sand-dunes. They fight and I Pull-“18"1 and [Oi'k‘ld ('n‘llllr'mgly. ~ - -- - Thcn taking her purse from hcl' pocket ï¬ietgmes Domes are killed m these :and bpcning it, she (lcinaudcdrâ€"‘llmv b I much are you going to charge for this These ponies are caught and shipped ljob?‘ to the mainland and sold. The llali- This staggered me; but I modestly fax Herald says that men go to the replied: ‘\\‘ell, I scarcely know. lam island and build a corral of stout not in the habit of making a (that‘gc for logs that has a narrow entrance sevâ€" my services at those tinlce. llut some- eral feet in length, then mount train- times I. am given a. . dollar; smnctimcs ed_ ponies and drive in a. dozen or more two; soinctimcs five, and sometimcs cvcn wdd ones toward the corral. ten dollars; an I, snnctiulcs, people have \thn two leaders are in the corral come hcrc.aml demanded my scrviccs, at once, they usually fight until one is and have had the bad taslc to offer me conquered. The conqueror is then las- nothing. However, in the present case, soed andhthrown and dragged from the I shall be mutt-med to lcavo the Hull/- corral Without being injured. The {er in your hands.’ ponics are brought to the shore andare 'Oh! but ye'rmi kind, g.ncrous gentle- placed on flat-bottomed boats. six at munâ€"g0 at it.’ a time. They have on peculiar bridlcs And I \vt-nt ‘at it.’ of roponand their legs are often tied, to the qut-sl.ion,â€"-‘\\'ilt thou have this so that it IS easy to throw them iflhcy “mum to be thy lawful wedded Wife 1' become troublesome. Great care is Instantly his hand went up to his takcn to transport the ponies without our, and, in a squt-aking, trembling injuring: thcm, as they cannot be sold "Oit'e, h" dcmanded: 'Whnt dc' yo soy." 11111055 In £500“ CODdlUOfl- Thl‘l' 311‘“ Then in tones “hit-himn afruixlcould transferred from the small boat to the 1... heard in tho strmd, I put the nut-5. lion again: 'Wilt thou have this Wom- an,’ etc. '0 yes, sir, wi' tho Cir-(L sir.‘ lly this time, [am sorry to say. 1 lwgan to fool the influcncc of the ï¬llâ€" uution. and rcplicd. 'it appears to me ' , , . 1 , you “ill have to take ht-râ€"citlirzr wi!h In answer to n corrtspond-nt “ho At any {we yflu “mat . , in‘ wilhtul. asks, "What is ill“ most curious nmâ€" guy; “I ’wmgv' torial out of which n timc-piovc has been 'Anything lo plmlsc yo. sir, "I will."' Dickey. Present ly I tame large one. and when all that the large boat can safely carry are on board, she sails away to Halifax. The ponics are sold at auction. and brokcn to work by those who buy them. blessin' 0' A CURIOUS CLOCK. made," a London journal prints the fol- $91“- l" 1"" ""“lâ€""3' “vi†“1011 ha"? lowing rathcr intorcsting itcm: (hmflnan ‘0 he “‘5'â€? , Bread, we think, is tho mngt- unions .‘Vcs. to be euroâ€"theta “‘hatlbrought material out of which a clock has ever hllmfol'l “ , u , been constructed. There was. and may \i 1“ 3'01} l’l‘fns" “3-.V , I “luv “1“â€? still bc, in Milan a clock made of broad. “WINNIE-,1 “'1â€. WP". , The maker was a nativv of Milan, who , Th" Imrtlï¬s were W"- Krl'flt f‘fllml‘r’lpb' devoted three years of his time to the “t9 33 my Chumh TI"".â€"1â€.“"†“Mm-‘7‘ task. He was poor. and being without An†a few mm“ d‘““’“â€â€œâ€™Â»â€˜ an" {7111‘ means to purchase the ncccssziry metal 1170‘» Ind we" "WWIâ€"V ""33 m" “"43 for the making of a dock. 11,. set apart wcrc at last duly szgncd and the man regularly a portion of his brmd each "I Fevm‘." “ml 'th W‘d‘m 0‘ may “"5†day, eating the crust and saving the son huf'mm’ an" “"{9- _ part. To solidifv this he made use of “1011 lb" ‘lll‘mdflm “’ldpw “lfl‘n'fd he? a certain salt. and when the various Fume NHL ‘3“"8 from it a "'1’: {WWW genes were, .1"- thov gamma "(N-[w kill. current mum-y of the Dominion of lard and insnliiblc in Water. 'I‘hc clock C‘Um‘h- 9’": blind“! 1‘ t“ mev “a-V‘mzi" was of good size. and kept fair time. 'wm 5'0“ 919350 “We um“ ("r 1h“ time 3' This was the ‘last straw.’ The re- str'iint had been terrible; but the (1.00! was now (men, and I ventured to hint: 'What ? You exlr-ct in come again. ehi' Poor human nature! It was clear she had conducted the whole business-dc- lir'nlely, no doubt.â€"from its Alpha to its Omega. Loxci-sr SPANâ€"BI? WIRE. single telegraph wire span in ill“ world is that. across tlw llivcr Iiistnah. between “womb and Scutannxizon. India. Stretched from one mountain to another. the wire is more than 6,000 feet in length. Tho fongvst Lia .' 1.1 4w: I: ‘2' ‘ Woman's Club ' pass a resolution upon ‘ It was clear that some« wi’-Ir 1/43.. we .....-,__..~.. WW~ em mm m. -W , .....,.,,...‘ ~--m~ av... . cw: . J's-r. . _.___.._... ’ WW ___ _ A . ‘ ._. m4 -.