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Show IHHMWaww at iiiiiiii, A VOUDOO STOHY. T was the doctor who told tho story. We were sitting in the dusk on the wide gallery of Mine. Dunbar-rier'- s villa at Hay St. Louis. Din-ne- r was just over and madam was j Tn i '"Eh, mes jinny k-- s pit is sans mam-an- .' she wailed. (My poor little ones without a mother.) "Toward night, thinking that he who had listened so often to the sor-rows of this burdened heart, knew so well its weakness, its temptations, its ignorance, its fears, might comfort her, I smit for the little priest who con-fessed her. He came, and through the long night knelt by that lowl conchy praying for tne soul about to voyage with all its guilt and sin into the un-known, and just as dawn broke and the last breath quivered over the pale lips he laid the crucifix upon her breast, and raising his hands to heaven, cried in the words of the All-pitif- '"Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.' "And so Loyette died, clinging with trembling hands.. to the crucifix, but next her heart, wound with endless filaments, was the votidoo charm, ami under her mattress was the knife, still red with the blood she had shed at the behest of her barbaric religion. "Did, at the end, some word of di-vine light break across that darkened soul, or at the last supreme moment did the forces of nature and heredity claim their own?" The doctor turned to us with his question. But we could not answer. The mys-tery of death, the awful mystery of the soul lie beyond human fathoming or conjecture. Elizabeth M. Ciilmer in the Nashville American. reflecting with inward satisfaction that Litine, her Creole cook, had real-ly surpassed herself the crawfish bisque had been perfection itself, the river shrimp, boiled in red-pepp-water, was still a fine delight to be re-membered, an reste it had been a round table with only the friends she liked best men old enough to appre-ciate a good dinner, and women pretty enough to almost distract one's atten-tion from tho menu. "Mon dieu," madam was wont to say, with a shrug of her shapelyshoul-ders- , "one is inihicile to invite hoys to dine, they only cat, and a dinner with-out a pretty woman is meat without grace." Coffee and a flask of amber liquor had been served out on the gallery as we sat watching night come across the water. The sweet south wind lifted the veil of moss on the trees, and in the dusk we could see the white-saile- d sc hooners, like phantom ships, coming in or going out. Some one lit a cigar-ette and laughed softly tho servant comming out to remove thecoffee-cup-s had seen the pale crescent of the new moon through the tree-top- s and had stopped to cross herself to ward off the bad luck such a misfortune wu-- sure to bring. It was such a familiar mingling of the Christian symbol with heathen superstition that we scarcely noticed it until the doctor said: "Do you know that is .one of qhe most interesting psychological prob-lems in the world how far nature and heredity have been overcome by education and civilization?" and then speaking almost as if to himself, and lighting one c-igarette from the ashes of another, the doctor told this story to illustrate his loint: "I hardly remember when or where I first met Loyette," he said, "it was so many years ago. But when I think of her I always see a tall, dark, little woman with clear olive skin, with black hair hidden under a gay tignon and eyes with such a tawny light in them such Hashes of passion, of love or hate it made you think of a sum-mer night when the soft darkness is cleft in twain by sudden gleams of lightning. "You would have noted all these things if you had known her, but what you would have remembered longest would have been a curious impression of strength and power in her, repressed and dormant perhaps, but you instinct-ively felt that the slim, straight figure could spring on an enemy out of a door-way like a tiger on its prey, and that tho long sinewy lingers had a grip like steel. You had only to note the thin line of the quivering nostril and the quick light that leaped into the eye to know that she was a creature of tierce passions, under which she shook and writhed like a reed in a storm. "You may have seen many another quadroon like Loyette in the lower part of New Orleans, walking with their peculiarly free and swinging step along the banquette, or making picturesque bits of color among the truits and bizarre wares of the French market, or better still, you may have seen them in the old St. Louis cathe-dral prostrate before tho altar of Our Blessed Ladv, with nil thepassion in their half-savag- e blood died out before the calm gaze of infinite purity, and their tempest-tosse- d souls at rest for a moment on the bosom of God." The doctor unused a moment, and sion that half frightened me she would snatch me to her bosom, trying vain-ly to feel with ol her childish ha mis the hungrv mother love of her heart. 'I had eight chillen,' she would say, 'eight chillen, en dey's all dead. My God, eight little ones en not one lef' to me. Dey died, my babies, firs' ono en den unuder, en Francois he live to be grown, so tall, so straight, so strong, en one day dey bringhini home from de river, dead likederes.' Ixiok,' she would exclaim passionately, 'it was not de little ones dat died, it was me; my body, my heart, my soul! It wus so long ago,' she wailed, 'ev'ry-bod- y forget. But me I am a mother; I do nothin' but remember.' "In the years in which we dwelt un-der the some roof a strange intimacy and friendship grew tip between the old slave and myself. I knew her griefs and shared her sorrows, but above all I knew the perpetual warfare her soul waged with superstition and fears that were as much a part of ;her existence as her dusky ,skin. Like most negroes belonging to Creole fa'nii-lie- s she was a Catholic, but her religion, like the white blood within her veins I believe I told you she was a quad-roondid not break the bonds of slavery or superstition, and there were times when, impelled by some blind instinct she was powerless to resist, she would slip away and join the voudoo worshipers in their horri-ble and mysterious rites. After such backsliding there would be such pas-sionate repentance followed by such penance as only a strong soul can in-tii-on itself. She would scourge her-self until the knotted cord was stained with blood, nnd kneel prostrate through the whole night beloro Our Lady of Perpetual Mercy. "But days, perhaps, weeks or months afterward the old restlessness would begin to stir within her, the mysteri-ous barbaric inheritance of a nature to which the Christian religion appeal-ed but faintly, and then some morn-ing she would slip stealthily into the courtyard worn, haggard, , wild-eye-with her gown half torn from her and stained with the dark, dank mud of the swamp. I knew only too well that she had yielded to tho old resist-less impulse and had found her way to the hidden recess of the swamp, where tho voudoo jiire gleamed amid horrid vapors for its votaries, where the deathly breath of the marsh enfolded them and loathsome reptiles glided away, fold upon fold, from the little band of half-nake- d men and women dancing before the tire in horrible abandon. I knew that Loyette's lips had been smeared with human blood, that she had sworn an oath to do the behests of her religion, so terrible the very memory of it blanched her cheek, and that did she but repeat one word the voudoo queen uttered as she stood upon the boy in which the sacred ser-pent writhed, her life must pay the penalty. "What alterations of horror and at-traction, what hopes and fears the Christian religion und this dark faith held for theqioor creature none might know. Her soul was like an angel standing by tho gates of paradise. Sometimes it yearned with unutter-able longing for the light, and aga-isi- , like a thing of night, it sounded the abyssess of darkness. "Finally there came a timo when, after one of these orgies, Loyette ap-peared tho next morning so haggard and with such a wild, hunted look in her eyes that even her dull mistress noticed it. '"But it was nothing,' Loyette pro-tested. "She was not well. She had an ague. A tisane of orange leaves would cure her, but she would not lie down.'" The doctor paused in his story. The night seemed to have grown suddenly dark and chilly, and we drew more closely together as the narrator re-sumed. "The day passed.but the next morn-ing the city rang with the report of a terriblo murder. A man, a slave, had been found murdered near the Old basin murdered and horrible muti-lated. Tho lips were cut off nnd the heart torn from out of the body. The community was aghast. "'Tiens.'it said, holding up its hands in horror, 'but lie was a tiend the as-sassin.' "No clew could be found, no motive assigned for the deed. Robbery? A slave? it was absurd to suggest it, but there was something tigerish in the hate that not only slew but tore the heart out of tho victim, there was something so dramatic even in the cutting oil the lips that they might frame no accusing ppeech, that the murder was the ono topic of specula-tion. Tired at last of the gruesome subject I climbed the stairs that led to Loyette's room. She was very ill. Her eyes burned with a strange fire, and it needed not my professional knowledge to see that she was sick un-to death. "'You have heard' she began, ea-gerly, as I entered the room. " 'They should not have brought such horrors here,' I answered, but she intertupted me " 'Hush,' she commanded, 'who knows about it if not me? Look, I am dying. It killed me, too. He was a traitor en must die, en de lot fell on me. I killed him, there by de ol' basin. My God, lie como along singin', singin'. I stan' in de dark, it was only a min-ute, so. His blood run down on my ban', hot like fire. But see, little one, if it killed me, too? If I give my life, if I give my heart for his hear, my soul for his soul, how then? " 'Hush, hush,' I cried, thinking she raved in delirium, think now of the little children who used to play about your knee. They aro coming very swiftly to you, my poor Loyette.' "She raised herself on her pallet. Her face, on which the dampness of death had already begun to gather, broke into a smile of ineffable tender-ness. She stretched out her long sinewy arms, and then her arms fell at her side and the light died out of her face. '"Ah, no,' she moaned, 'they will not come to me, my hands are red with blood.' "She rocked herself to nnd fro in in-consolable misery; occasionally a deep sigh broke across her lips. then he went on: As I have said I hardly remember how or when 1 first knew Loyette. I have a faint recollection of my father who was a sugar planter ou the Teche dying, of being carried faint and grief-sic- k to my guardian's house in New Orleans, of exchanging the light and freedom of the country for darkened rooms, of hot and narrow streets in place of waving cane, and then darkness closed in about me ami I knew no more. They told me afterward I was very ill for weeks, but at hist when that mysterious voyaging of mind and soul over unknown seas which we call delir-ium, was over, and like a d bark I had drifted into port again, tho first thing I renieniberconseiously was Loyette. She was standing at the window, as I saw her so often in other years tall, statuesque and still as if carved in bronze. I stirred softly, and seeing I was awake and rational, she came swiftly to me. " 'Eh, mon bene,' she said softly,' but it is you who should burn a candle to the saints. It is the grace of le bon Dieu, or else it would be in the ceme-tair- o St. Louis you would wake. "'In my weakened state I did not greately care, but curiosity was begin-ning to st ir in my numbed" brain. " 'And you,' I asked, 'who are you?' ' 'Oh,' she answered, with a shrug, 'as for me, I am Loyette, your nurse. Now, sleep, sleep, anil she held to niv lips a draught I unresistingly swal-lowed; but even as I drifted off into unconsciousness I was haunted by the dark, face that bent above me. "In the days of convnlcsccne, when I tossed from side to side of the great testered bed, lonely enough would I have beon but for Loyette, who told me a hundred st oiies of the past ond sang for me the gaychansonettes other race in the sweet negro voice that somehow always seems to have ft minor chord even in its gladness. Sometimes, but not often, she spoke of her chil.lreu, dead long years ago, and with a'p ts-- A L3ATHSOME DISEASE B . A Warning Uttered as to the Danger of Leprosy. Considerableexeifement has prevail-ed in Chester over the discovery of the leper, John Anderson, who has been residing here for the last two years un-discovered, and public attention is once more drawn to this most dread-ful disease and the probability of its spreading in this country. The most eminent authoritiesdeclarethe disease to be highly contagious, and this is proved from the fact that up to about forty-fiv- e years ago there was no lep-rosy in the Sandwich Islands, and no sign of the disease there until it was introduced by two Chinese coolies. Now over one-tent- h of the population are victims. In 1805 there were three lepers on the island of Trinidad; in 178 this number has inuj-ease- to 800. One of the peculiarities of the contagious effects of leprosy is that germ may exist in the body and lie dormant for any period up to twenty-fiv-e years. As an illustrat ion of this there is a case on record in which a man developed leprosy at the ago of 40, which was distinctly traced to his having as a boy contracted the disease playing with a native Indian boy who afterward was found to be a leper. The actual origin of leprosy has not yet been determined upon, although tin Jlisease is so ancient; hut Dr. Jon-tjMi- n Hutchison, of London, Eng-J- r II, in a paper read before tho last Jva. Congress, in Berlin, attributed o an excessive tish diet, and said he had found the leprous parasite ex-istent in fish, and that tho countries where leprosy was most prevalent was thost whose inhabetants existed largely upon tish. In this country the Chinese are the greatest sufferers, and in many cases import the disease. Once here, they may spread the disease far and wide by means of their laundries. In sperk-in- g of this, one of the most eminent dermatologists in the city said: "I am free to confess I would ou no ac-count have my laundry done by a Chinaman, owing to the prevalence of leprosy among them." There is always great difficulty in discovering leprosy, among the Chines particularly, as once affected a sufteis er endeavors in every manner to hide it, knowing that in disclosing the fact he would be isolated and cut off from all association with the outside world. As a consequence t here may be num-bers of cases in this city unheard of and unknown, but which, at tho same time, may be the means of spreading the disease. That this is so shown by the fact that the Chinese leper "Hop, now in the Municipal Hospital, was only discovered by liisbeing compelled to seek advice at Philadelphia Hospi-tal for a severe attack of erysipelas. When informed that he was suffering from leprosy he acknowledged having ing noticed it for twelve months.,. At that time he had been working at his business, and perhaps disseminating the germs of the disease to developo in the persons of those infected in years to come. Philadelphia Record. SUNDAY BEADING. APPEOrElATK HEADING MATTER FOE THE DAT OF REST. Forc'tlm Ilia Thing ISalilnil Working or Ilia Siilrll-T- h Futura Lira Ulnar Itama. Could we but dear all Nature's voles, Krom glow-wor- up to tun, ''TwnuUi (petit witb una comnrdunt louud, 'Tiijr will, U God, be dune!" But, bark, a ladder, mightier prayer, From all men's liuaru that lire: "Tlijr will be done in eartli and bearen, A nd Tbou my tins forgive !"' Joun Sterling. THE RIGHT WILL RIGHT 1TSKLK. When overcome witb anxiout feur, And moved Willi puntion mroni;, Beoiuse the riKlit euim losing ground And everything goe wrong, How ol t duc lulnionitlon iv : I'll t trouble on the uliolf ; Tt nth will outlive the liar'n dav, And Uiglit will right Hielf 1" ily all the triumph! of the past, Ity all the victories won, Tim good Achieved, the progress made Kacili day, from un to aim ; In apite of ui tlul ways employed Ity pel tidy or pelf, Of one thing w can rent assured, The Klglit will right itself ! Unshaken in our faith and zeal, 'lis our to do and dure, To find the place we beet can till. And aerve our Makor For there; be is only brave who tliu l'uti trouble on Die ihelf. And tru4 in God, for by Ufa aid The Uight will right itelf. Joaepbine l'ollard, in New York Ledger. Forgetting the Things Itrlilnd. Thore is a grace in forgetting as well as In remembering; there 1b a . genius in knowing what to discard as woll as what to keep; and both these are the invariable possessions of a successful and efficient life. No man of conscience can forget his sins; no :. man of judgment can forget his mls- - takes; but he does not carry them with him. What ho does carry is the ex-perience which has como to lain through them the strength, the wis-dom, the grace of character, which have been devoloped by what they have brought or what they have takon away. A man's real life Is always before him; the past is only valuable for what he can learn from it. The days fade from all distant recolloction, be-cause those artificial divisions of time are of no consequence except as char-act-has grown or degenerated in them. A man's greatest achievement, onee accomplished, begins immediate-ly to recodo, and becomes less and less in his eyes. No really great man has ever ropoeed on any thing which ho has dono; there has always been ftao consciousness tbat he was greater than any expression he had glvon of himself, and thjit tho veal satisfaction wnjj joy of nfo lay. "hot In tho work, but In the doing of it. One task succeeds another, one ex-perience follows another, in end-less succession; u man's work is never finally done, because his life is always expanding, and the time will never come when this law of progression will ceaso to operate. There can be no hoaveu which is not a heaven of development. It Is a great waste of strength to make one's faults and blunders and sin impediments in the onward inarch. There is no virtue in continually bomoaning tho misdo-ings of the past. Heal repentance is not lamentation, but girding up the loins for the work of expiation. Let the dead old year bury its dead; leave behind the depressing memories of - failure and defeat, while yon carry their lessons In your heart. Your real life is not behind but before you; it is the new year, and not the old, which is your opportunity. Lyman Abbott. YV May It Vstd In Time. How often It is in the cause of God that someone wants to do some great thing which ho is not fitted to do and which the Lord does not want him to do. lie may see what needs to be . done and yet need not be tho one to - Jo it. Ho may have a gift of know-ledge and discernment, but not the - wisdom to plan and execute. 1 le may . attempt In rashness to do tho work, make but a partial success, which is worse than failure, and, becoming discouraged, say that he was nut prop-erly sustained and appreciated, and so fail himself. If his will had boon sub-nnitt-to God, he would have beon willing to have had (Jed work through whom ho would. Another feels tho burden of a work laid upon him, but he is not willing to prepare himself for the work, nor to take God's way nor time to dolt. It was even thus with Moses. God chose ihiin to doliver Israel, but not when Moses was in his prime at forty years of age, not when he had finished his educa-tion as a great statesman and goneral, but after forty years of shepherd life --on the mountains and in the valleys of Midian. Then God could use him, and lie did It is not only important to know the work given us of God. but it Is important to know God's way and time fjr doing His work. Our . strength, sometimes, is to sit still, to wait upon the Lord. The Future Ufa. I feel in myself the future life. I am like a forest which has been more than once out down. The new shoots are stronger and livelier than ever. I am rising, I know, toward the sky. The earth gives me a generous sup, but Heaven lights me with the reflec-tion of unknown worlds. You say the soul is nothing but the resultant of bodily powers; why then is my soul the more luminous when my bodily powers begin to fail? Win-ter is on my head and eternal spring is in my heart. Then I breathe, at this hour, the fragrance of the lilies, the violets and the roses as at twenty years. The nearer ( approach tho end the plainer I hear around me the immor-tal symphonies of the worlds whlcb unite me. It is marvelous, yot simple. It is a fairy tale and It is a history. For hall a century I have been writing my thoughts in prose, verso, history, philosophy, drama, romance, tradi-tion, satire, ode, song I have tried all. But I feel that I have not said the thousandth part of what is in me. When I go down to the grave I can say like so many others, ! have fin-ished my day's work," but I cannot say, "I have finished my life." My day's work will begin again next morning. My tomb is not a blind al-ley, it is a thoroughfare. It closes in the twilight to open with tho dawn. I improve every hour because I love this world as my fatherland. My work is hardly above a foundation. I would bo glad to see it mounting and mounting forever. Tho thirst for the infinite proves infinity. Victor Hugo. Til Spirit's Working. Tho divino Spirit is not confined In his operations to any particular line or method. "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, hut canst not tell whonce it cometh, and whither itgooth; so is every one that is born of the Spirit." Sometimes a spirit of criticism is awakened among Christian workers because another adopts methods and works plans different from his own. That is short-sighte- d and tends to grieve the Spirit, lie is infinite in His variations of working. "The manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man to profit withal. For to one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom; to another tho word of knowl-eg- e by tho sumo Spirit; to another faith by the same Spirit; to another the gifts of healing by tho same Spirit; to another the working of miracles; to another prophecy; to another dis-cerning of spirits; to another divers kinds of tongues; to anothor tho in-terpretation of tongues; but all those workoth that one and the self-sam- e Spirit, dividing to every man severally as he will." KotUiun tend so much to stimulate thought and extend the scope of mental vision as the reception of the Holy Spirit. He helps our infirmities; he guides into all the truth; he em-powers with might in the inner man, and through tho vision of the glory of the Lord he transforms the character by his divine indwelling. Buffalo Christian Advocate. (iralna or Truth. The truest joy wo have in life is in making others glad. He that lacks timo to mourn lacks time to mend. Sir H. Taylor. It is tho characteristic of folly to discern the faults of others, and to forget one's own. Truth is the most powerful thing in the world, since fiction can only please by its resemblance to it. Shuftesbury. The best of us being unfit to die, what an inexpressible absurdity it is to put the worst of us to death Haw-thorne. Some of our weaknesses are born in us; others are the result of education; it is a question (says Goethe) which of the two gives us tho most trouble. It is advisable that a man should know at least three things: First, where he is; second, where he is go-ing; third, what he had better do un-der the circumstances. Raskin. Good men and women in all lands might well adopt this as their motto that "a judicious silence is always bettor than truth spoken without charity," In a sieve It is tho small dust that goes through; so trouble gets rid of emall-hoart- ed friends, thus saving a man much trouble in other ways. When Von Moltke was ninety years old some one asked him how old he would like to he. He replied "About eighty." He did not care to go all the way bncjc and repeat tho mistakes of his youth. How mankind defers from day to day the bet it can do, ond the mo3t beautiful things it can enjoy, without thinking that every day may be the last one, and that lost time is lost eternity!--Ma- x Muller. Knowledge Varans Goodness, Knowledge of good and evil affords no assurance of a greater love of the one or of a greater hatred of the other than would exist in ignorance. Sound Keaonlng. "I am so sensitive; It hurts my 'leelings so much," mourns some poor fvul on hearing of some remark by a neighbor, or friend, not realizing that the cause of sensitiveness is selfishness or pride. Here is a good rule, which will ever prove a help to tho one who .is "talked against." If what Is said .is true, let him reform. Ho doubles ihis sin who sins under reproof. If it is nottruo, he should so livo that no one will believe it, at the same time pitying the person who did the wrong. Let such a one nlwuys remember that others can only injure our repu-tation; our personal sin alone can in-jure our character. Signs of the Zi'imes. Our first parents no doubt found the devil well enough informed. The archangel Michael and the arch-dev- il Lucifer may havo the same Intel-lectual ability and tho same intol-- 1 lectual attainments, but the fidelity of the one and tho disobedience of the other make heaven and hell. Unless knowledge ripens into moral forco it becomes the tool of selfishness and sin. Rev. E. P. Marvin, in American Sentinel. Actlrliyi There is a perennial nobleness, and even Bacrcdness, in work. Thero is always hope in a man that actually and earnestly works; in idleness alone thero Is perpetual despair. COURAG SAVED HER LIFE. A Young Woman Hangs Beneath a Trestle as a Train ThundersPast. Clinging for her life to a rough benj while a (lying express train thundered and swayed above her head. Swing-ing in midair with death above and below her until almost exhausted by the fatigue that came of the terrible strain upon her, physically and men-tally. This was the dire predicament in which Miss Norma Oaken, of Ridsway avenue, Avondale was placed one af-ternoon, and it was only due to her cool judgment and calm presence of mind that she did not meet with a shocking death. In attempting to cross a railroad trestle which spans the rocky bed of Bloody Run, a little bed north of Avondale, she was run down by an express train, the engin-eer of which was endeavoring to make up for lost time by running nt full speed. To prevent being hurled from the trestle she was compelled to let herself down on tho outside of the track and hang on until she was rescued. With Mr. Richard Hall, of Walnut Hills, and Miss Nannie Fisher, of Avondale, she started out for a walk. They went along the Cincinnati and Lebanon and Northern Narrow Gauge railroad toward Lebanon, nnd as they reached the trestle Mr. Hall and Miss Fisher held back, fearing to meet a train. Miss Onken, though know-ing it to be near train time, thought to cross the trestle before the train could come. She was about half way over when the Montgomery accommodation, due in Cinicnnati at 2:33, whistled. She looked up and was horrified to see the train driving toward her with great speed. It was train No. 12, of which Ed. F. Doherty is conductor and Lee Barnard trainman, and it was trav-eling between thirty-fiv- e and forty miles an hour. When Miss Onken saw the train coming toward her she dis-played a wonderful presence of mind by throwing herself over the side of the trestle and there clinging to the timber. The engineer, George Collins, seeing the gent leman and lady at the other ena of the trestle, reversed the engine and stopped as soon ns possible; but it was not until he had passed Miss Onken some distance. Running back on the trestle Doherty and Barnard each took one of Miss Onken's hands pulled her up on the track. Her face was black and blue, and she was more dead than alive. She was exhausted and could have held on but a very short time longer. Without help jtist at that time she would have fallen into the creek twen-ty feet or more below her. After resting a few moments she was able to resume her walk, none the worse for her harrowing experience. Tho spot where the scene occurred is noted for accidents. On the 4t h of July hist an old colored woman was thrown from the trestle and dreadfully in-jured, breaking two of her limbs and fracturing her skull. A few weeks ago there was a collision at this point, and one of the battered engines is still half burried in the mud there. Cincinnati Enquirer. The Cancer Parasite. Dr. William B. Russell, senior Pa-thologist in the Edinburgh Royal In-firmary, read a poper before the Pa-thological Society of London on Tues-day, and before the Medico Chirurgi-ca- l Society of Edinburgh on Wednes-day, in which he estimated that he had secured the parasites in a number of cancer cases. Dr. Russell says he has been studying cancer for years. In the course of his investigations he found things which could not, in his opinion, be explained on t he principles of ordinary tissue growth. He tried to diflerentitate some of these by special method of staining with anodyne ityes. The result was that an organism was differentiated. These organisms Dr. Russell found in all the cancer cases he examined, between forty and fifty, but under no other disease condi-tions. By tracing the life history of the organization ho found it to bo ft fungus of the yenst tribe. The doctor here again pointed out his experi-ments had to be tested by others be-fore his discovery could be accepted. From the Pall Mall Gazette. A Queer People. The Watalta are a queer people who inhabit Talta on the Indian Ocean. The body is disposed to be hairy. The color of the skin is generally a dull, sooty black. Beards are the adoration of the race, and are worn in immense quantity by men and wom-en. There is little religion among them, but they are in great dread of spirits, and are believed to inhabit the large forest trees. The snn is their true conception of an overruling Deity. Their marriages are arranged by purchase, the intended husband paying the girl's father tho thrco or more cows fixed as the price. Then the girls run away ami effects to hide. She is sought out by th t bridegroom . and his friends and carried off to the hut of her future husband. r A Glorious River. The St. Lawrence is a phenomenon among rivers. No other river is fed by such gigantic lakes. No other river is so independent of the elements. It des-pises alike rain, snow and sunshine. Ice and wind may be said to be the only things that affect its mighty flow. Something almost as phenomenal as the St. Lawrence itself is the fact that there is so little generally known about it. It might be safely allirmed that not one per cent of the American public are aware of the fact that among all the great livers of the world, the St. Lawrence is the only absolutely flood-les- s one. Such, however is the case. The St. Lawrance despises rain and sunshine. - Its greatest variation caused by drought or rain hardly ever exceeds a foot or fourteen inches. Tho cause of this almost everlasting same-- , ness of volume is easily understood.' The St. Lawrence is fed by the might-iest bodies of fresh water on earth. Immense as is the volume of water it poursinto the ocean, any one who has traversed all the immense lakes that1 feed it, and for the surplus waters of which it is the only channel to the sea, wonders that it is not even more g-igantic than it is. Not one drop of the waters of the five great lakes finds its way to the ocean save through this gigantic, extraordinary and wond--' rously beautiful river. No wonder, then, that it should despise the rain and defy the sunshine. T. O. Russelin Nature's Realm. He Worked It The girl he was going to see was un-questionably pretty, but lie knew that her mother did not like him. So, one evening after the engagement, in the gloom of the gathering shades, he saw the old lady in the parlor. It was a bold stroke, but unexpectedly to her he kissed her. After her first pretended flutter of excitement of course he ap-ologized and said she looked so exactly like her pretty daughter in face or fig-ure that his mistake was natural In the goodness of her heart she not only pardoned him but is now his next best friend in that house. Thisshows that mothers-in-la- w, if properly approach-ed, are only human alter all. From the Philadelphia Times. |