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Flesherton Advance, 18 Feb 1897, p. 2

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AS GOOD AS GOLD. CHAPTER XXXIII. At tUU data thera prevailed In Cas- ttrbvids* « convlviai cuBtomâ€" scarcely nittgnlftd u lucb. yet tloAe the less »stabliah«d. On the afternoon of every taiitif a Urge contingent of the Cas- terhrldge journeymenâ€" steady church- vo^rs and setlate cbaractera having at- tended sarvice, filed from the church doors acroM the way to the King of Prnsahi Itat. The rear was usually brought uj> by tha choir, with their bass-vioU, fiddles, and fluten under their irms. The gre*t point, the point of honour, on these aacred occasions, was lor each man to strictly limit himself to half-a- [>int of liquor. This scrupulosity was so well understood by the landlord, that the whole company was served in cups of that measure. They were all exact- ly alikeâ€" atraight-sided, with leafless lime-treaa done In ell-brown on the sides â€"one towards the drinker's lips, the other confronting his comrade. To ivonder how many of these cups the landlord possessed altogether, was a fav- lurite exercise of children in the mar- rallous. Forty at least might have been seen at thesA times in the large room, forming a ring round the mar- gin nt the great sixteen-legged oak ta- He, like the monolithic circle at Stooe- hanga ta Ita pristine days. Outside and above the forty cups came a oirole of forty smoke jeta from forty clay pipes; autslda the pipes the countenances of the toity ohuroh-goers, supported at the baek by a oirole of forty-chairs. The oouveisatibn was not the conver- •Btion af week days, but a thing al- togethtt finer in point and higher in tooe. The/ invariably discussed the •armon, diwecting it, weighing it, as above or below the averageâ€" the gener- al ttndenoy being to regard it as a â- cientiftc feat or performance which bad no relation to their own lives, except as between critics and the thing critic- ised. The bass-viol player and the alavk usually spoke with more author- ity than the rest on account of their atficial connection w^th the preacher. New the King of Prussia was the inn cboien by Uenuhard as the place for elosing his long term of dramless years. â- â€¢ bid so timed his entry as to be well estsiblisbed in the large room by the time the forty church-goers entered to their customary cups. The flush qpon his face proclaimed at once that the vow of twenty years had lapsed, and the er.i of recklessness begun anew. He was seated on a small table, drawn up to the side of the massive oak board reserved for the cburcbmun, a few of whom nodded to him as they took their places and said, " How be ye. Mr. Hen- chard? Quite a stranger here." Henchard did not lake the trouble to reply fur a few moments, and bis eyes rested on his stretcUed-out legs and bootii. " Yes," ho said fit length ; " thal's true. I've been down in spir- it for weeks ; some of ye know the cause. I am better now ; but not quite serene. I want you fellows o! the choir tu strike up a tune ; and what with that and this brew of Slannidge's I am in hopes of getting altogether out of my minor key." ":With all my heart," said the first fiddle. " We've let l>ack our strings, that's true ; ukU, we can suun pull 'em U(i again. tSuund A, ueigbi>uurs, and give the man a slave." " I don't care a curse what the words be." said Henchard. " Hymns. Ijailets, or rsntipole rubbish ; '•he Hogue's Miiri-h . or the cheiiioim's warble â€" 'tis ull the same to me if 'tis good harniuoy, and well put out." "Wellâ€" heh, hehâ€" it may l« wu can do that, and not a man among us that have sal in the gallery leas than twen- ty year," said the leader of the Innd. " As 'lis, Sunday, neighbours, Nuppose we raise llm fourth I'sa'aiii. tu Saiuuol Wakely's tune, as improve by me (" "Hang Samuel Wakely's tune as im- proved by thoe I ' said Henchard. "Chuck ^(•rosa one of your psalter.sâ€" old Will- ahiri^ is I be only tune worth Hinging â€"the pnalm-tune that would make luy blood ebb and flo like the sea when J was a slpady chap. I'll find some words to fit en." He took one of the psailers, and began turning over the leaves. Chancing to iook out of Ihn window at that ranment he saw a flock of peo- ple iiussinK by. and nercelved lliciu to La t lie congregatiiin of the upjier church, now just dismissed, their sermon hav- ing been a longer one than that the lower parish was .favoured with. Among the rest of the leading inhab- itants walked Mr. Councillor Karfrae, with Luoetta upon his arm, the observ- ed and iniitulcd of all the siiialler tradesmen's womankind. Ilcnchard's mouth changi'd a little, and he continu- ed to turn over the leaves. "Now. then," he .said, " Psnim the Hundred-and-Ninlh, to the tune of Wiltshire: verses ten to fifteen. I give ye the words : â€" " His seed shall or^ihans be, his wife : A widow plunged in grief; His vsgrnnt children beg I heir bread Where none can give relief. " His all-got riches shall l>c made To usurers a prey ; THe fruit of all liis toil shall lie By strangers borne away. " None shall lie found that to his wants Their mercy will extend. Or to his heJple.ss orphan seed, The least assistance lend. "A swift destruction soon shall seize On bis unhappy race ; Ana the next agu his hated name Shall utterly deface." "I know <ho Psa'umâ€" I know the faaA^m," said the ieajler hastily; "but wAuld as lief not sing it. 'Twasn't |aadi4 for aJjiglng. We chose it once wkaA-'Uia ^ipsie s stole I he pa'son's marek thinking to olease him. but he were quite u(>set. Whatever Servant Uafld wer Ihlnkine about when he made a Psalm that nobody can sing without disgracing himself, I can't fa- thom I Now, then, the fourth Psalm, to Samuel Wakely's tune, as improved by me?' " Od seize your sauce â€" I tell ye to sing the Hundred-and-Ninth, to Wiltshire, and sing It you shall I" roared Hench- ard. " Not a siugle one of all the dron- ing crew of ye goes out of this room till that Psalm is sung I" He slipped oft the table seized the pokrf^, and going to the door placed his back against it. " Now, then, go ahead, if you don't wish to have your cust pates broken 1" " Don't 'ee. don't 'ee bake on so Iâ€" As 'tis the 6nbl)ath-day. and 'tis Servant David's words and not ours, perhaps we don't mind for once, hey? said one of the terrified choir, looking round upon the rest. So the instruments were tun- ed and the oomminatory verses sang. " Thank ye, thank ye," said Hench- ard in a softened voice, his eyes grow- ing downcast, and his manner that of a ma>n much moved by the strains. " Don't ye blame David," he went on in low tones, shaking his head without raising his eyes, " He knew what he was about when he wrote that. If I could afford it, be hanged If 1 wouldn't keep a church choir at my own expense to play and sing to me at these low. dark times of my life. But the bitter thing is that when I was rich I didn't need what I could have, and now I be poor I can't have what I need I" While they paused. Luoetta and Far- frae passed again, this time homeward, it lieing their custom to take, like oth- ers, a short walk out on the highway, and back, between church and tea-time. " There's the man we've been singing about," said Henchard. The players and singers turned their heads, ana saw bis meaning. " Heaven forbid I " said the bass play- er. " 'Tis the man." repeated Henchard doggedly. "Then. If I'd known." said the per- former on the clarionet solemnly, "that 'twas meant for a living man. nothing should have drawn out of my wynd- pipe the breath for that Psalm, so help me!" " Nor from mine." said the first sing- er. " But. thought I. as it was made so long ago. and so far away, perhaps there isn't much in It. so I'll oblige a neighbour : for there's nothing to lie said against the tune." " Ah, my Ixiys. you've sung it." cried Henchard. triumphantly. " As for him. it was partly by his songs that ho got over me. and heaved me out. ... I cou 1 luld double him up like that â€" and yet don't." He laid the poker across his knee, bent it as if it were a twig. flung it down, and came away from the door. It was at this time that Ellza)>el fa- Jane, having heard where her stepfath- er was. entered the room with a pale and agonised countenance. The cnoir and the rest of the company moved off in accordance with their half-pint regu- lation. Kliznbetb-Jane went up to Henchard. and entreated him to ac- company her home. I)y this hour the volcanic fires of his nature had burnt down, and having drunk no great quantity as yet, he was inclined to acquiesce. She took his arm, and together tbev Nvent on. Henchard walked blankly, like a blind man. re- pi-ating to himself the lust words of i he singers: "And the next age his hated name Shall utterly deface." At length he .said to her, "I am a man to my word, i have keipt my oath for twenty years ; and now I can drink w ith a good conscience. . . If 1 don't do for himâ€" well, I am a fearful practical joker when I choose. He has t.iken away everything from me, and by heav- ens, if I meet nim I won't answer for my deeds I" These half-uttered words alarmed Kl- izalielhâ€" all the more by reason of the still determination of Henchard's mien. "What will you do?" she asked cautiously, while trembling with dis- quietude, and guessing Henchard's allu- sion only too well. Henchard did not answer and they went im till they bad reached his cot- tage. "May 1 fonie in?" she said. "No, no; not to-day," said Hench- ard; and she went awa.v feeling that to cjiution Karfrae was aiinost her duty as it was certainly her .strong desire. As on the Sunday, so on the week- days, Karfrae and Lucetia might have Ix'en seen flitting aliout the town like two butterflies- or rather like a In-e and a butterfly in league for life. SXv. aeenieil to take no pleasure in going anywhere except in hi'r husland's com- pany ; and hentc when business would not permit biin to wa.ste an afternoon she remained indoors, waiting tor the time to piss till bis return, her face being visilile to Klizabetb Jane from her window aloft. The latter, however, did not say to herself, that Karfrae should Iw thankful for such devotion, but full of her reading, she cited Rosa- lind's exclamation: "Mistress, know yourself ; dow a on your knees and thank heaven fasting for a good man's love." .She kept her eye upon Henchard aUso. One day he answered her inquiry for bis bealtli by siying that he could not endure Abel Whit lie's pitying eyes up- on him while they worked together In the yard. "He i.s such a tool," said Ilencliard, ' lb.it be can never get out of his mind the time when I was mas ter there." " I'll come and wimble for you in- steail of him. If you will allow me," sjiid she. Her motive on going to the yard was to get an opportunity of ob- serving the general position of affairs on Karfrae's premises now that her stepfather was a workman there. Hen- chard's threats bad alrined her so much that she wished to see his liehaviour when t he two were face to face. Kor two or three days after her arriv- al Donald did not make any appear- ance. Then one aflernooii, the green door opened, and through came, first Fartrae, and at hit, heels Lucetta. Don- ald broujiht his wife forward without hesitation, it being obvious that he had no suspicion â- vh.itevcr of any anteced- ents in common l)etween her and the now journey-man hay-trii.sser. Henchard did not turn his eyes to- wards either of the pair, keeping them fixed on the bond he twi.sted as if that alone absor))ed him. A feeling of deli- cacy, which even prompted Karfrae to avoid anything that might seem like triumphing ovt r a fallen rival, led him to keep away from the hay-barn where Henchard and his daughter were work- ing, and to go on to the corn depart- ment. Meanwhile, l.ucetta, never nav Ing been informed that Henchard had entered her husband's service, rambled straight on to tbe barn, where she came suddenly upon Henchard, and gave vent to a little " Oh 1" which the baa>py and busy Donald was too far off lo hear. Hejtcbard, wijth withering humility hat to her as Whittle and the rest had to her as Whittle and tbe rest had done, to which .she breathed a dead- alive "Good afternoon." "I beg your pardon, ma'am ?" said Hemchard. as if he had not beard. "I said good afternoon," she fal- tered. "Ob yes. good afternoon, ma'am," he replied, touching bis bat again. "I am glad to see you. ma'am." Lucetta looked embarrassed, and Henchard con- tinued : "For we bumble workmen here feel it a great honour that a lady .should look in and take an Interest In us." ( Sihe glanced at him entreatingly ; the sarcasm was too bitter, too unendur- able. "Can you tell me the time, ma'am?" he asked. I "Yes." she said hastily ; "half-pa.st four." '"Thank ye. An hour and a half longer before we are released from work. Ab. ma'am, we of tbe lower cla.sses know nothing of tbe gay leisure that such 03 you eoijoy." As soon as she could do .so Lucetta left him. nodded and smiled to Eliza- beth-Jane, end joined her husband at the o(ther end of the enclosure, where she could lie seen leading him sway by the outer gates, so as to avoid pass- ing Hencluurd again. Tliat she had been taken by surprise was obvious. 'The result of this casual rencounter wa.s. that the next morning a note was put into Henchard's hand by the postman. "Will you. said Lucetta, with as muchr bitterness as she could put into a small communication, "will you kind- ly undertake not to .speak to me in the biting undertones you used to-day. if I walk through the yard at any tlmef I bear }ou no ill-will, and I am only too glad that you should have employment of my dear husband ; but in common fairness treat me as bis wife, and do not try to make me wretched by covet words. I have com- mitted no crime, and done you no in- jury." " Poor fool 1" said Henchard with fond .savagery, holding out the note. "To know no better than commit her- self in writing like this I Why. if I were to show that to her dear husband â€"pooh I" He threw the letter into tbe fire. : Lucetta took care not to come again among the hay and com. She would rather have died than run the risk of encountering Henchard mt such close quarters a second time. The gulf be- tween them was throwing wider every day. Fartrae was always >:onslderale to bis fallen acquaintance; but it was Impossible tbalt ne should, not by de- grees, cease to regard tbe ex-oorn mer- chant as more than one of his other workmen. Henchard saw this, and con- cealed his feelings under a cover of stolidity, fortify I ok his heart by drink- ing more freely at the Kmg of Prus- sia every evening. ' Often did Klizal>elh-Jane. in her en- de*vours to preveoit his taking other liquor, carry tea to him in i little bas- ket at five o'clock. Arriving one day on ttiis errand, she found her step- father was measuring up olover- seed and rape-seed in the corn-.stores on the top floor, and she ascended to him. Each floor had a door opening into the air under a cat-bead, from which a chain dangled for hoisting the sacks. When Elizabeth's head rose through the trap she perceived that the upper door wa.s op«'n. and that her stepfathwr and Karfrae stood Just within it in .â- conversation ; Farfrae iH'lng nearest the dizzy edge, and Henchard a lit- tle way behind. Not to Interrupt them she remained on the steps without raising her head any higher. While waiting thus she waw â€" or fancied she saw. for she had a terror of feeling cer- tain â€" her (rfepfatber slowly raisti his hand to a level behind Karfrae's shoul- ders, a curious expression taking pos- session of his face. The young man was quite unconscious of the action, which was so indirect that, if Farfrae had observed it, be migb't almost have re- garded it as an Idle outstretching of the arm. But it would have l>een ikjs- slble, by a comparatively llghit touch to push Fartrae off his Iwilance. and s»'jid him bead over heels into the air. Klizal)eth felt quite sick at heurt on thinking of what this might have meant. As soon us they turned she mechanically took the tea to him, left it, and went away, lleflecting sh« en- deavoured to assure herself that tbe movement was an idle eccentricity, and no more. Yet, on the other baud, his subordi;;ale position in an establisb- nient where he once had been master uiLght 1>e acting on bim like an irri- tant poison ; and she finally resolved to cauition Donald. homeward, journeymen now being m the street, waggoners going to tJie Ijarness-makers for articles left to be repaired, farm-horses going to th« shoeing-smilhs, and the sons of laboun being generally on tbe move. Ellzabelhl enetred her lodging unhappily, think- ing she bad done no good, and onir made herself appear foolish by her weaH note of warning. But Donald Farfrae was one of those men upon whom an incident is neven absolutely lost. Tbe vision of Eliza- beth's earnest face in ibe rimy dawn came back to blm .several times dur- ing the day. Knowing the solidity of he,r character, he did not treat her hints altogether as idle sounds. But he did noit desist from a kindly scheme on Henchard's account that en- gaged him just then ; and when he met Lawyer Joyce, tbe town-clerk, la- ter in the day, he spoke of it as if nothing had occurred to damp it. "About that little seedsman's shop," he said: "the shop overlooking the churchyard, which is to let. It Is not for myself I want it ; but for our un- lucky fellow -townsman, Henchard. It would be a new beginning for bim, if a small one ; and I have told the Coun- cil that I would head a private sub- scriptiom among them to set him up in itâ€" that I would be fifty pounds, if they would make up the other fifty among them." "Yes, yes; eo I've beard; and there's nothing to .say against it for that mat- ter," the town-clerk replied, in his plain, frank way. "But, B^arfrae. oth- ers see what you don't. Henchara bates ye â€" ay, bates ye ; and 'tis right that you should know it. To my knowledge he was at the King of Prussia last nihgt, saying In public that about you which a man ought not to say about another." (To be Continued.) CHAITER XXXIV. i Next tnorniiig, accordingly, she rose at five o'clock, and went into the street. It was not yet light ; a dense tog pre- vailed, and tbe town was as silent as il was dark. She moved on to the bottom of Corn street, and, knowing bis time well, waited only a. tew min- utes l)efoxe she heard the familiar bang of his door, and then his quick walk towards her. She met him at the point where the la.st tree of the en- (jirdling avenue flanked tbe last house in the .street. i Ho could hardly discern her till, glancing inqiiiringly, he said, "What â€"Miss Henchard- and are ye up so early ?" She asked him to pardon her tor waylaying him at such an unaeeiiily lime. "Hut 1 am anxious to mention something." she said. "And 1 winlied not to alarm Mrs. Fartrae by calling." "Yest" said he. with the cheerintws of a superior. "And what may it l)el It's very kind of ye. I'm sure." She now felt the difficulty of con- veying to his mind the exact aspect ot possibilities in her own. But she someiliow licgan. and introduced Hen- chard's name. "I sometimes fear." she said with an effort, "that be may be l)et rayed into .some attempt toâ€" insult you. sir." "But we are the best ot friends." "Or to play some practical joke upon you, sir. Remember that be has been hardly u-sed." "Hut we are quite friendly." "Or tc do sgmelthlng â€" that would in- jure you â€" hurt you â€" wound you." Ev- ery word cost her twice its length of pain. And she could see thaJt Farfrae was still incredulous. B'arfrae, happy, nnd thinking nd evil, persisted m making light of her fears. Thus they parted, and she went BIGGEST BOY IN THE STATES. A Lad or Bemarkable aiiatareâ€" latemliac lacldeau Aboat Him. Tbe biggest boy for bis age in the United States lives at Oxford, War- ren County. N.J. His name is Edward Scharrer. he is 16 years old, and his height is already six feet two and a half inches without his shoes. If he should keep an growing at the ordin- ary rate from now until he is 21 years old. he would then be over .seven feet in height. He himself believes that when be reaches that age he will stand fully seven feet four inches. It is usually the case when phenom- enal growth takes place in childhood that the subject is physically a weak- ling. The tremendous strain upon the vitality resulting from such unusual growth generally enfeebles the entire .system ; it amounts to a disease, and Is so regarded by physicians. NEVER KNEW SICKNESS. Scharrer, however, has never seen a sick liay In all his sixteen years. He Is as strong and healthy as a young animal, and has an appetite commen- surate to his size. Just at present, he weighs ICO pounds, and is gaining at the rate ot alxiut a pound a week. He is not at all ill-pro5)ortloned. and It is only In the boyishness of his face that his lack of years is noticeable. He has the stride and carriage usual in a man at tbe ago at which -sticb h«'lght and weight, are not extraordm- "y. ^. , This phenomenon in the way of growth IS the youngest of a family of eight children. Every one of bis bro- thers and sisters are of good height, perfectly formed, bright and healthy. None of them have developed any signs of anything abnormal, and they look upon their big brother with as much astonishment as is feKt by strangers. HIS WORK IS PLAY. This extraordinary youth is well fit- ted to perform the work of a stout farm hand In ever^ particular. There is no one in the neighborhood who can beat him pitching hay, and when it comes 10 breaking a horse, his strength makes him a master hand. In fact, niott of the tasks that are considered onerous because ot the strength re- quired to perform them are child's play to this overgrown boy. Kven as a liaby he was unu-sually large ; by the time he had reached the age of 5 years he was as tall and well formed as the ordinary boy ot 8, and at 10 he bad attained the growth and tbe general appearance of a l)oy of 16. Mentally, he is all that could be ex- pected of a iHjy ot his age. Ho is » goixl student, and has made theiuu.stof his rather limited oppoitimilies for edu- cation. ... . ... . The liuestion of a calling m life is not bothering Scharrer at all. He says he was torn a farmer, and a farmer he will remain. N jibing else has any attraction for him whatever; be .seems to have an Inborn love for the soil. I'nless, however, nature presently calls a halt, New Jersey bids fair to furnish the legitimate succe.ssor to Chang, the Chinese giant, and the late lamented Captain Bates. HE IS AN mNT SANDOW A BABY NINE MONTHS CUD WHO IS A VERITABLE WONDER. Wben Nine Nontlm Old Toald Lift a Dam^ bell Welchlns Tireiily-«ve Psnndsâ€" Bla Father Pnu Him Throagh a Hegalav Vounti «r Tralnlnii, and HU Mother Allend* to Hla Diet. ilBTB is a nine-months-old Sandoww He is Henry Edward W^illiam Ward^ the cbUd of Mr. and Mrs. H. D. (Ward, of Lewiston, Me. At an early age thia miniature giant began to show signs ot remarkaUe strength for an infant. When three months old his weight was twenty pounds, and his parents come menced to notice his unusual develop- ment. Neither Mx. nor Mrs. Ward ara of large proportions, and the rapid way in which their young son took on flesh surprised them.. Mr. Ward, who was somaithlng of an athlete in his younger days, thought he saw the foundation for a remark- ably strong man in his son, and when he was about three montbs old adopt- ed a gentle system of exercise, tbroughl which he put young Henry, every day, ' He also put his little son on a diet that was muscle producing, and in a few weeks was delighted to notice a great improvement. Then some light dupibbells were so- cujed for the boy, and under the careful tuition of his father he soon manipu- lated them «irprisingly well. Young Henry's weight was so great for a youth of his agia that he did not de- velop much speed as a sprinter, and his main strength, brought alx>ut by dumbbell and Indian club practice, ia in his arms and cheat. When only nine months old he was able to lift a dumbbell weighing twenty-five pound* clear of tlie floor. THE FATHER'S STORY. Mr. Ward, Who has full charge ot the athletic training of this youthful Sandow, says: "My boy is a wonder, and I am will« ing to back him against all comers of his age. When ' first started hUa In using the dumbbells I was afraid he might hurt himself, but he really seemed lo like the exercise, and ha WU3 ready to cry wben I called time on him. My wire agreed not to med- dle with his athletic instructions if I would keep away from his dieting, so she manages that part. After he bad l>een using the bells about a month and I saw the effect was good, I was willing to experiment a little, and I gave oim aome tests to show hi* strength. "Wnen tie was five months old I put a bandage around him and held him suspend<*d over a fifteen-pound dxunlibell. He grasped It and lifted it clear of the floor, holding it so nearlj a minute. This test never tired him in tbe least. He now, at nine month* of age, lifts a twenty-five pound dumlv bell, and keeps It in the air a minute, and would cfo so longer, but I don't want to be too hard on the boy. I don't mean to l>rag about my son. but I Itelieve be Is the coming strong man without any doubt." THE MOTHER TELLS OF HIS MET. "When he was three months old," says Mrs. Ward, who attends to his dieting, "I commenced to feed him on graham crackers soaked in milk. This not only iiul on fleab rapidly, but also Iniilt up his banes and muacles. 1 am now giving him solid foods of different kinds, and be wants to eat most of the time. Sometimes I have to take bin} away from the table for fear he will eat too Ullui^h. and then he is sure to cry." 1 ' Mr. Ward is fitting up a model min- iature gymnasium tor his boy, and ha is iiutting all sorts ot applian<^e3 to de- velop muscles of the young wonder. The Iwy himaeJ/ is not surprised at any- thing, and take* bis training as a matter of course. He is learning to talk rapidly, and is as bright as a nevr dollar. Every mu»-le in the little fel*. low's body stands out prominently, and his flesh Is as hard and firm as a pro- fc'K.sional boxer's. His biceps are d»- velo|ied in an astonishing manner and feel like iron. GUN THAT NEEDS NO POWDER. One of tbe most remarkable of war inventions is altrilmted to the Ingen- uity of a Frenchman, Paul Oitfard. His "miriU'le gun" is a rejiealing rifle which puiploys no gunpowder. Lique- fied air, obtained under pressure at a temperature hundreds ot degrees be- low zero, (ind thus representing an enormous cipansive power, is the pro- jecting force. T'^ls rifle Is de.scrlbed as being much ligbtctr in weight than an ordinary rifle. The steel carriage, nine inches long, and as thick as one's thumb, contains 300 bullets,, which may bo di.«-iiaTged as quickly or as slowly as desired. There is no smoke and no flash, only a sharp and low report. As soon as one cartridge Is empty, anoth- er can be screwed on Instantly, 300 shots oosting but two and a half cents ; HONEY FW)M APPLES. In Chile they let nothing in the appio go to waste. There, after making cid- er and wine from their apples, they ex- tract from the refuse a white and fine- ly flavored si>lrit, and l)y another pro- cess they procure a sweet treacle, or, as tbey term it, honey. A WOMAN'S MILITARY FUNERAL. It is very seldtnn, indeed, that a mili- tary disptay take* place at the funeral of any womaJn who does not happen to bv> the member of some reigning fam- ily. The honors accorded by the French Uovernment to the late Mme. Charles Heme, whose obsequies at Paris the other day were attended by a Ijattalian of Infantry with tbe regimental colors and band, are sufficiently exceptional to merit record. The troops were pre- sent at the funerail ceremonies in con- sequence of the dead lady having lieen one of the only two women of- ficers ot the Natioftal Order of tho Legion of Honor, which had l)een conferred upon lier for her boundless charities. 'l''he sole te.rainine officer ot the Legion ot Honor now surviving is the celebrated artist, Rosa Bonbeur, so renowned for her paintings of animals, who received the cross ot an ordinary, knight from Napoleon III. and the cross ot officer ot the order from the Govern- ment of the republic. PLAYlNtt IT TO A FINISH. Two Paris women were recently per- suaded by a Spiritualislic mediiuu that their bodies enveloped thti spirits ot Mary Stuart and Queen Elizabetih. Un- fortunately Mary Stuart discovered that Elizabeth's nephew embodied the spir- it ot Bothwell, and the two, taking all the Virgin Queen's money, eloped, mak- ing it necessary for tihe police to be caUed ia. . â-  ' CHURCH CATS. In Naples there exists a race ot cats which live in the churches. Tbey are kept and ted by tlie authorities on pur- pose to catch the mice which infest all old buildings t'bi^re. The animals may often be seen walking abouit among tbJt congregation, or sitting gravely bo- fore the altar during tun» of mass.

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