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Show I nobleman, ho was niimlfni of the obli-- I gntionsof courtesy, even in intercourse with bis nearest relatives, ami said: Mile. Adrienne is in the room open-ing from this terraitj." Tlie boy ran up the steps. The mar-- i qnis continued his walk, wouderiug what the contents of the note conlil he. Adrienne was nitting alone in the majnilintlv furnished room, dream-ing and waiting for her grandfather. Ou the table lay the books they wero to read together that day. Hark! That was not the marquis' step. "Mile. Adrietine, a note a note i from the young count De la Valla. He is at La Chesne!" The boy darted off, and Adrienne utood trembling, holding the littlo note iu her hand; her heart was throbbing so violently that she could not open j the envelope. There, her grandfather was coming. Adrienni) involuntarily put her hand behind her. The old man looked so grave and sat down by the table without removing his hat "or coat. What troubled the marquis? Ailrienne had started up. Now she was standing before him; her fair locks floated over her shoulders; her bo ft white dress revealed the outlines of her slender figure; two white roses from the chapel, which sho daily vis-ited, were fastened on her breast. The note fairly scorched her hand. No, her grandfather must know every-thing; she would have no secrets from him. "Grandfather." she began timidly, 'I have a note; I must tell you about it please don't say anything, grand-father only listen to me. I will con-ceal nothing from you. and then we'll read the note together." The story of her young love was en no, my child, child or my Helena, never shall I embrace you?" j Paul, deeply moved, was silent, j 'io on. go on." groaued the mar-- i quis. "Head, I wish to know all." "'A new genius rules in France. The littlo Corsican, with his tiery spirit, is accomplishing marvels. With (iod's assistance there are still goals for manly strength. On. to win name and fame! As a French colonel I will clasp my Adrienuo to my heart."' "Poor Cesini! he fell a captain on the liuld of Marengo." murmured Faul. The marquis seemed petritied. That Hulcne could have thus deceived him secretly wedded a musician. Cesini, his servant! As such he had always regarded Sig. Cesini. Burviug his face iu his hands he longed for tears. "Now. Monsieur le Marquis, you know all. and now lot us go to Adri-enu- e. What must the dear girl think of our absence?" Thus Paul inter-rupted his reverie. 'Would you wed Cesini's child?" "Marquis de St. Boche, I have but one plighted troth, oue love; both are Adrienue's. Besides. Cesini fell an officer on the battle-liel- d; he is vour equal and my superior, for I still liave a life to lose for France," cried Paul. "A Cesini can not be my grand-daughter." 'Itut sho will be my wife. To St. Roche, I beg! Adrienne shall come with me to my chateau this very day. I will force my betrothed bride on no one." The marquis and Paul silently en-tered the carriage and drove to St. Roche without exchanging a word. As the equipage turned into the broad avenue leading to the chateau they saw Adrienne sitting on the terrace, her sweet face wearing a most wistful expression as sne gazed into the dis-tance. "Paul," the marquis began, his breathing heavy and belabored, 'say nothing to Adrienne about Cesiui aud llolene. I will keep silence, too." "Marquis de St. Roche," replied Paul, "llelene's grave, iu Paris, thirsts for a daughter's tears, and Cesini's shades haunts the plain of Marengo. I can not rob mv comrade of my wifo's remembrance." "Paul, make my grauddaughter happy. There she comes." "Adrienne, love!" The young count was already clasping her iu his arms. 'Grandfather, give us your bless-ing." Springfield (Maw. ) Republican, from the Ucrmun of Clara Sehrieber. fiatheticnlly simple. Her grandfather he kissed Adrienne more tenderly than he had ever doue before and remained lost iu thought. lie sat rellecting long after Adrienne had hur-ried out into the sunny park to show tho ancient lindens over and over again the dainty billet: "I am coming to my Adrienne. Your Paul!" So brief and so full of meaning. "Monsieur lo Marquis, I am a suitor for the hand of your granddaughter, Adriounti St. Koche." "Paul do la Valle, I must refuse you Adrienue's hand." 'Impossible, Monsieur lo Marquis! What objection can you find to me?'' "To you. tho Sieur do la Vallo? Nothing! You are rich, of aucient and stainless name; you servo Franco though the garb of modem France" the old man glanced nt the glittering uniform "has changed." "Well then Mousiour le MarquisP" "Paul, Adrienne is not my grand-daughter; sho is not a St. Roche. "Indeed. Monsieurlo Marquis! Well, I am sorry for tho house of St., Roche, for you, for Adrienne, and for myself, if in the future you will not love us and forbid us to call you grandfather. For the rest, I am a" nobleman by birth, a soldier by choice, and serve France from love for my native land. I love Adrienne, uot her name, and my wife need be nothing save my wife, the countess de la Valle. I should like to receivo Adrituno's consent iu your presence, Monsieur lo Marquis. Shall we seek her?" "Stay, Paul ; do not be overhasty. I do not know who Adrionue is; how can I betroth her to you? When my daughter-in-la- Blanche de St. Roche, died, her last words to lue were: Father Adrieune love her. She is not mine not Rene's child ask Ces-ini.' Death interrupted her words. My Rone would tell ino nothing more. 'Blanche is an angel; love Adrioune,' was all I learned from him." "Cesini! Did you know Cesini?" asked the major. "Once I did. He was a musician, nnd instructed Rene in violin playing. When I spent a year with my children in Paris Cesiui left us. I have heard nothing from htm, and all my inquiries were futile." "But I closed his eyes in doath.Mon-sieu- r lo Marquis. Cesini foil in the front ranks of tho army at the battle of Marengo as an olllcor of the republic. Comrade,1 ho groaned, 'I have at-tained uothing this portfolio Holene Blanche1 and died." "lleleno. ho saiil 'Holene? Where is tho portfolio?" gasped the marquis. "At my chateau. I haven't opened it. Wfl forget curiosity in times of war. But, my dear marquis, let us go to Adrienne." "My friend, I must drive to La Chesno. Don't oppose mo I must see clearly. Why did Cesini say Ilelene?" The old nobleman was feverishly excited. "Quick, mv carriage four horses! Come. Paul!" The marquis' emotion had affected Paul also. The spirited steeds swiftly conveyed the two men, representatives of the old aud tho new tiuies, to the familr seat of tho La Va lies. "The portfolio no, Paul, nothing no food, uo drink the portfolio!" cried tho marquis. There it is." Paul unlocked a drawer of his writing table, took out the woru case, and opeuod it. It con-tained the certificate of the birth of Cesini, son of the violiu player, Cesini of Corsica, and tho marriage certificate j of tho musician Cesini and Mine. Ilelene, daughter of the marquis do St. Roche. j "Uo on, go on!" shrieked the old man. "Goon. Is that all?" "There is only this sheet of paper: ""I loved Ilelene and she returned my love. We dreaded the anger of her father and Rene, a priest from my native island, married us secretly in Paris. I had undisputed admittance to Ilelene, whom I taught to play on tho violin, as well as Roue. Holene grew paler and paler. One night she was attacked by illness. No oue was allowed to watch beside her bed ex-cept Blanche, my young wifo's friond. I called a physician whom I could trust, a Corsican liko myself. Adrienne was born and Holene died. What a light of horror! Blauehe, overwhelmed by grief and terror, gave birth to a dead chilil. She was a heroine. She whispered a few words to nio aud to Reno. I buried the littlo oae, and then, pursued by the furies of despair, tied to the army aud became a soldier, tq vanish, to' die. Never since theo have 1 seen a St. Roche; never have 1 known oue iiour of hapuiuess. . Adri- - ADRIENNE. The old marquis do St. Roche had survived royalty in France without be-ing disturbed in the possession of his estates. His peasants spared him, not merely because he hud always been a kind master, but beoauso they consid-ered him so unfortunate that they Mould do nothing to increase his mis-ery. Tho marquise, whom he had passionately loved, hail lung been lead; a beautiful daughter who had neenmpanied the marquis to the court in Paris never returned home, having lied Biuldenly iu tht capital. Tho marquis' only son, the very ideal of youthful chivalry, wedded a young lady of noble birth, to wlrtini the mar-quis soon transferred all the warm love of his bereaved heart. Tho young rouple spout a part of the year iu Paris, nnd the older peasants well tho joy in the chateau whoa the daughtei-in-fa- w brought homo to its lord a rosy littlo grandchild. After ' that time the young mnrquiso never Jeft St. Hoc ho, but devoted herself to iior child ami the poor there was not . a villager to whom she had not ren dered somo kindness. Happy herself sho desired to see others happy. Adrioune was 1 years old when a lioy, an heir to the estate, was born; but. a few days after, tho young mother, with her son in her arms, was laid to rest in tho marble vault of tho astle chapel. Soon her statue gleam-ed there iu its white beauty. Ten roses nnd snowy hyacinths surrounded it with their fragrance. The young marquis often stood gaz-ing at it w' despairing eyes and on tho anniversary of her death tho hand-eoni- e, vigorous heir to St. Roche was brought homo with a bullet in his breast. An accident had happened to hi in while hunting, lie was buried by the side of his beloved wifo. The old marquis was sorely stricken by these blows ho forgot to smile but ho remained erect and strong. He loved little Adrionue with passionate devotion, and tho child clung trust-ingly to her grandfather. ' He taught tho little one. read fables with her and as she grew to maidenhood in-structed her in the history of Fiance, tho songs of the troubadours, and re-fitted tho Cid aud Phedro. Adrienuo lived in a beautiful, sunny drc::m world. Sho listened with glow-ing cheeks when her grandfather re-lated the heroic deeds of tho nobles of his day, and heard with quickened breathing the war-lik- songs sung by tho youths hurrying to Napoleon's standard, the rumors of victorious bat-tle-n, mid spito of her aristocratic lin-kage her heart rejoiced at tho tidings fittui the first consul, who was making .beautiful France so great, so famous. (' Even Paul, the son of the dead count (le la Valle, followed this man's victo-rious banner Paul, tho owner of La Chesno, the finest chateau in the neighborhood, aud when, a youth of 18, he had set out to join the army he bad whispered to tho child of 10: Don't forgot nic, Adrienne; I will rot urn.'1, lie And returned two years since Adrienuo was 16 nnd ho had told her that he must go back to his great com-mander, but would soon come home to bi Adrienne presumptuous Paul, to use that word aud live with her in (iplcndor and happiness, pleasure and love,; and then he kissed tho girl's . yohlen hair only her bair. "Do not forget me. I will write to you often before I return, my sweet one." Tho battle of Marengo was over. It was rumored that Paul had been pro-moted to the rank of major and accom-plished marvels of daring. The marquis do St. Roche retained all the refined elegance of the ancient nobility of France; never, even in the seclusion of his chateau, did he permit iiimself the slightest carelessness in dress; he was always clad as if he guests or nil immediate stlin-unot- is from the kh)T. He was a stately jiian, with clear-cu- t features that be- - tokened a resolute will; good because i lie believed it plebeian to do wrong; fj'tn as steel whore his principles were involved, obstinate and proud' of his j noblo blood, for God had ordaiutd. no- - bility as he gave kiegs it rlirihe wjht to their crowns, i j While walking in the park tho mar-- qui noticed a peasant lad holding a dainty little nolo in his' hand, hovering about tue chateau. ' WI-.'i- are you going, my boy?" "To Mile. Andricnne. The uote is for the young lady." Who could tho writer be? Tho mar-r.'i- is was starred, but, like a true On The SlalrB. I. Virrr'a one. 1'ttle minx of daintiest, iriould- -. very bit of Drv-l- eti ' Hnriillip.l jro'il tier MKT when iuul'Ih (I Willi suullKlil.untl such Like eDhilowid wel!s, where t surprise ronx-lim- i a fir li "f fire dam-lna- - livlil or mini. iiiiiiullzinir (flauee: tliat bright Hut I'w.k. w'hi-- p meaning- act-m- to be r A tarlt a inpatli.v 'twixt her urnl mi: Hut Itieo auain l'e favored with a pout Ihut liurl m Juwu Id biackext depths of Anon, brrakf thrrtnirh th clouds the sweetest smfie. An April plrnm nf imnslilnr; for the while I live and move Hi!aiu hi dreamland, ytt, I fear (In lucid iutrii)ti a onn'Ue. tiuldouMa and feur Uiko wints alien un-- ' smart. Of course 1 meet her tripping up the stairs, II. Wc mee t each rt iv at brrhkfant and ut tea. We pll-- fa1: I try to eat. and slie J)eaeai asdnii.ty a a little tilrd. i With downersl, ryes, ami Binning- - ararce word. How liiiiix rnt !ie Winn, diTnure and slivl The little el e:i Slip known I watch hen ly ThoM" dnnp'i d. rnse-tiH'- 1 llnifcrs, follow pluy Of aupph. ivonr wrli and turn away From wtrond Joint, that I mHV eau-l-i A (rleam Of jewi'l will. In thoM- - eup.d lipn -- a brum 'roin Marry i:tn! 1 hen in tho dra lug room lose all enurmie cannot talk: fume, Jli'tirc and go aloft; to walk. .And sintrularly as 1 downward siu!k meet her eouiiiiK "p-- iiile unaware. Somehow, it's uli to different on the eluiral III. Ah, vea! how different on tho stairs! I find Avaln my eoiiriure cast liHilnd All diffidence. p'Thitin hrrauito H a dark. Ti't not h) dark hut that I act- - Of love-lijr- In thonp lhepurk pyea. We speak ao low That not a word can llstenlne; ears e er know-- Yet not an low but (hut ahe heart full well Kach pretty think- - I my, flh 1 tell Mmt tl'Oxe otln r itlrls and other livwi. Put as wo eooiwe liuven't gnl, like ilovos. To litllliiir yet) 1 feel a dieadrtil fnrtu fSelw on mo: yesterday, wliiioul remorse. It made me presa her hand. H may Incite W- - soon to bolder aels. Who knows? It mlpht Kelurn completely unawares And make me steal a kiss upon the aialra. Judson Newman pnjltb. the inmates of a house half a niileup the road yonder, toward tho cross--: roads, were aroused by souio one knocking violently at the door. The persou who was "knocking proved to be Barbara, the hex's daughter. She was pale as a ghost, and as soon as she could find her voice she st.iltled the family bv exclaiming: ; I" have killed Mr. Hover!" '"Tninking the girl was out of her mind the family tried to sooth her, but sho declared that she had seen him fall dead as she drove a nail into a pa-- 1 per at the ash tree to lay a witch, ac--, cording to her mother's instructions. ai j just 12 o'clock that night. She told what Boyer was doing when she saw him drop dead iu his chair. He was playing cards, she said. '"As soon as I struck the nail I saw him. He called out my name so that it rings in my cars yet! Then he fell dead." "'AH this came out at the inquest, which was held the next day. The post-morte- m showed conclusively that Boyer had died of disease of the heart, but Barbara and her mother declared then and ever after that the witch was in Buyer's heart, and that tho nail Bar-bara drove had been buried there. There were few people iu the place but what shared in that same belief, and the popular verdict was that Buyer's death was just. And Hex Freitcher became a greater hex than ever. That is why her death has made so profound an im-pression in the village. '"How do vou explain that strange occurrence? There is uo doubt Barbara saw Joe Boyer as she said she did. Did Joe see her when she struck the nail, aud know his fate?' "I, of course, could give my host no explanation of the uncanny affair. Ia there anyone who could ?"N. . Sun. CAX YOU EXPLAIN IT? A WEIRD TALE OF MODERN WITCH. CRAFT IN PENNSYLVANIA. IJlieTra tn Ttitliculitua lnsnntatlona, Or-- monlea and Freacrlptlona to Ti'ard On Ilia Power of Kll. "I was on a business trip through centrnl Pennsylvania recently," said a New York traveling man. "and stop-ped one night in a quiet little old Penn-sylvania Dutch towu. An old woman had died in the place that day, and wherever I weut about the village her death seemed to be the leading topic. 1 finally asked the landlord of the hotel where I stopped who or what the old woman had been. "O, she was a hex,' the landlord re-plied. "Not having the least suspicion of what iu the world a hex might be, I pushed inquiry, aud learned that a great many people in that vicinity, and iu fact throughout that entire part of the state, were still firm believers in witchcraft aud iu tho power of certain persons, by ridiculous incantations, ceremonies and prescriptions, kuown under tho generic name of 'pow-wow-in-to drive the witches away from persons, animals, wells, crops or what-ever had fallen under the ban. These witch doctors were usually women, and were known in Pennsylvania Dutch as hexes. They were "held in great respect, and the death of one was regarded as a calamity by the believers in witches. The woman who bad just died had been a particularly successful hex. and her death was an eveut of no little importance in the village. '"Now, I don't believe in witches myself, or iu tho power of a hex,' said the landlord, 'but I would be obliged to some one who could explain to me an occurreiico with which this woman who has just died was concerned, and which came under my observation. '"I djn't know how old tho hex was who died No one kuows. But twenty years ago she was an old woman. She was tho widow of a well-kno- Pennsylvania Dutch farmer, Jacob Freit her, who died a quarter of a century ago. Although she was left wealthy, h daughter went out to service, as .s tho custom with the girls of Pennsylvania Dutch parentage, al-though they may he prospective heir-esses to thousands. This girl, then about 20 years of age, worked at this very hotel. Her name was Barbara, and she is y the wife of one of the richest farmers in tho county. The landlord at that time was a leading man in this county, and usually a jovial sort of follow. His name was Joseph Boyer. For some reason he never could explain ho took an intense dislike to the old hex's daughter, who worked for him. I have often heard him say that when he was near the girl, or she was in his presence, ho could scarcely restrain himself from doing her personal injury, and was constantly, against his will, wishing that he or some one else might make her suffer. It was a most singular feeling, for tho girl was honest and in-dustrious, and, as the landlord fre-quently said, the best girl he ever had iu his house. Boyer's unaccountable hatred of the hex's ilaughtor was not the only strange fact connected with the two. Tho girl's fear of her employer amounted to terror. She trembled visibly when ho was in sight, aud that she suffered greatly could be seen by the expression of her face. At times she fell into faiutiug fits after Boyer had left her sight, out of which sho was revived with dilliculty. Another singular thing was that the girl quit the landlord's employ several times, but after an absence of a few days in-variably came buck and his service. She told his wife that she had such pains while she was away that sho was forced to come back for relief. 'It seems that Barbara, who was a sensible girl and not inclined to tho superstitions her mother was believed to hold the charms against, did not make known to her mother the pecu-liar sensations and sulTeriugs she expe-rienced nnd endured uutil nearly a year after they first appeared. Then, lindiug that she got no bettor, she con-fided in her mother, who told her at ouce that she was bewitched. "'But who would want to bewitch me, mother?'1 Rhe asked. '"I don't know," replied her mother; "but I will find out." "The old hex took a piece of black paper, took dmvu her witch book, something every hex ha, copied some-thing from it ou the paper, and folded the paper. She theu gave her daugh-ter a hammer and a sharp nail and (old her that at 12 o'clock on the first nicht of the first new moon she must take the paper, the hammer anil the nail with her to an ash tree that stood at tho cross-road- s a milo beyond the village. Sho must piaco tho paper against the tree, nd with one blow of the hammer send the nail home through tho paper. That, tho hex said, would not only destroy the witch, but would discover the person or thing that the witch hud acted through. "I remember it was a night in early fall that Boyer. three others, and my- - self sat down iu the back room yonder to play a few games of euchre. Just before we sat down the' landlord glanced out of tho window there: '"Hullo! a new moon, and I saw it over my left shoulder. I won't have Ray luck 'We played" along until it got to" be almost midnight, and we dealt for the last game. As the clock in tho hall struck twelve Boyer picked up his j cards. The uext second he sprang to his feet, with a look uf terror I shall j never forget. He cried out. almost shrieked, tho namo of the hex's dangh-- ter, and fell back in his chair dead! "Of course, we were all paralyzed with horror for a mnmeut, but, recov-ering, we hustled about to do what we could. Wo summoned a doctor at once, but ho was of no use. The laud-lor- d was dead dead, undoubtedly, of heart disease, the doctor said. "A fow uiiuutas after 12 that night OIVI3 ENJOYS Both the method and results when Syrup of Figs is taken ; it ia pleasant and refreshing to the taste, and act! gently yet promptly on the Kidneys, Liver and Bowels, cleanses the sys-tem effectually, dispels colds, head-aches and fevers and cures habitual constipation. Syrup of Figs is tho only remedy of its kind ever pro-duced, pleasing to the taste and ac-ceptable to the stomach, prompt in its action and truly beneficial in its effects, prepared only from the most healthy and agreeable substances, its many excellent qualities com-mend it to all and have made it the most popular remedy known. Svrup of Figs is for sale in 50o and $1 bottles by all leading drug-gists. Any reliable druggist who may not have it on hand will pro-cure it promptly for any one who wishes to try it Do not accept any substitute. CALIFORNIA FIO SYRUP CO. SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 10W8HUE. Kt. ME tOKIL H.t. "German Syrup" G. Gloger, Druggist, Watertown, Wis. This is the opinion of a man who keeps a drug store, sells all medicines, comes in direct contact with the patients and their families, and knows better than anyone else how remedies sell, and what true merit they have. He hears of all the failures and successes, and can therefore judge: "I know of no medicine for Coughs, Sore Throat, or Hoarseness that had done such ef-fective work in my Coughs, family as Boschee's .Son, Throat. S$l Hoarseness, at my store, who was suffering from a very severe cold. She could hardly talk, and I told her about German Syrup . and that a few doses would give re-lief; but she had no confidence ia patent medicines. I told her to take a bottle, and if the results were not satisfactory I would make no charge for it. A few days after she called and paid for it, saying that she would never be without it in future as B few doses had given her relief. " (D The Soap i that Cleans Most is Lenox. VA A V Dollars in your pocket at one time? W offer thii amount for an rm Original ) " Advertising Novelty I k the man or woman, boy or girl, who ihall derlie th j test originality to advertise RIDGE'S FOOD ' For Infanti and Invalids in every home rn America. For further Instruction address Advertising Dep't, WOOL-RIC- H & CO., PALMER, MASS. Mention th nam of thia paper when yon writ BOILING WATER OR MILK. EPPS'S GRATEFUL COMFORTING. COCOA LABELLED LB. TINS ONLY. cJ fwppt "Down With High Prices." THIS SEWIN6 MACHINE TAT "Tni TP Bufrirles, S6S.0O Harness tT.M ' SnJ TJ B"41 Carta... ,o.oo W warns, 30 CS .L2iI s X) Fanil'ror Store Scale, 1.00 r--3 V' l 1 A HMl. Famidra' Scale.... s.M K Sr-i- 4000 H- Haj or Stork Scale.. .40.00 Forge and Kit of Tools 30 00 ' f JJ4" ArtlclM at Half Price. ; CHICAGO SCALE 00., Chlear". Hi ENSIONHffj5S?SES 'Successfully Prosecutes Claims. Late Principal Examiner U.S. Pension Bureau. 3ftamlaatwat, liaudicatlngnlalma, aUj na . 1 A new $3,000,000 British battle-shi- p, the Hood, U beiug built at Chatham. The Venerable Graduate. He enters hi eolleire at Iweuty.und Is through at twenty-four- ; The law sehool claims tho graduate, he studies three years more. His shingle flultera to the breeze at twenty-Mve-and Mill He fliilits for clients three years more his fath-er foots the bill. At thirtv-foii- r his debts aro paid, that Is, If lie's alive; And the eolleire man begins to live at the ago of thirty-live- ; And bis dome of thought protrudes through bis hair, and his beard is etrcukeri with irray. And the maid he loved In youth hits become a uiuiron Willi children at play. Byron lunl written fome very (mod verse, and died, mid licen raiiken with the ureat. At about the axe you begin to live you irre- - Miiulc imiduate; And Artenum Wurd had tickled tho world until ii held lui breath. Until t lie voice of its lauffliter was bushed in the awful stillness of death! Aod Keats had made himself classic, and died, uud moldered, and crumbled away. And S links pcure had writ certain comedy jiliys that won't bo foritot In u day. And Slielloy had made himself fumous with sonif Immortal at thirty he died Alcxauder had fouirht aud conquered the world, aud died aud w as deified. But you have studied quadratics, and roots, and Sanscrit, and Latin, aud Greek. And various kiiifrues of the ancient world that arc far too dead to speak; But you have lost the irlnw of the fray and Vhe (ilorious Joy of the strife, Nui tasted tho sweet of the meat of the world, nor the juice of the vintage of life. S. W. Fass. What Stockinet Clolh Is. Strictly speaking, stockinet is not a cloth, for it is not woven fabric, but a knitted texture. "By a process of knitting, and not by weaving, the in-dividual threads of which a stockinet fabric is composed are. says tho Dry Goods Chronicle, interlaced into oue regular texture. The work is per-formed In a kind of a frame or loom, in which the yarns are arranged in parallel order, at uuiform distances apart, as iu ordinary weaving. Of course, the machine is automatic in its movements and capable of producing a great length of cloth in a very short time. The fabric thus formed is orna-mented with a flue ribbed pattern, similar in character to that seen in common knit goods. This article gen-erally han Hes soft, full and elastic, but lacks those valuable characteristics of strength aud lirmuess of texture or make, which obtain iu a woven cloth proper." The difference between the structure; of this fabric and that resulting from weaving warp and weft yarns together may be illustrated as follows: Take a sample of stockinet cloth and try to withdraw a thread aud what is the re-sult? The whole construction is un-raveled. Next submit a loom product to a similar examination and it will bo fouud that if a longitudinal or warp thread is removed the transverse or waft thread, will remain, while, on the other hand, if the latter are withdrawn the warp threads will, although the texture may be partly destroyed, still remain, to a certain extent, undis-turbed. Again, tho manuer iu which a knitted fabric is constructed limits the designer to one class of weve effects these being of a stockinette character whereas tho principles of weaviug are of such a description as to admit of unlimited chauge, or varia-tion in design. The American Olive. Th growth of tho olive is to be, it seems to me, one of the loading and most permanent industries of southern California. It will give us, what it is nearly impossible to buy now, pure olive oil, in place of the cotton-see- d and lard mixture in general use. It is a most wholesome and palatable nrti-cl- o of food. Those whose chief expe-rience of the olive is the largo, coarse, and not agreeable Spanish variety, used only as an appetizer, know little of tho value of the best varieties as food, nutritious as meat, and always delicious. Good bread and a dish of pickled olives make an excellent meal. The sort known as the Mission olive, plauted by the Franciscans a eentury ago. is generally grown now, and the best fruit is from the older trees. The most successful attempts in cultivating tho olivo and putting it on the market have been made by Mr. F. A. Kimball, of National City, and Mr. Ellwood Cooper, of Santa Barbara. The ex-periments have gone far enough to show that tho industry is very remu-nerative. Tho best olive oil I have ever tasted anywhere is that produced roni the Cooper and tho Kimball orchards; but uot enough is produced to supply the local demand. Mr. Cooper has written a careful treatise on olive culture, which will be of great service to all growers. The art of pickling is uot yet mastered, and perhaps some other variety will be preferred to the Old Mission for the table. A mature olive grove in good bearing is a fortune. I feel sure that within twenty-liv- e years this will bo ono of tho most profitable industries of California, and that the demand for pure oil and edible fruit in the United States will drive out tho adulterated and inferior present commercial prod-ucts, lint California can easily ruin its reputation by adopting the Euro-pean systems of adulteration. Charles Vuti'ey Ir'unicr, in Harper's Magazine. The Lion's Prisoner. The following is told on the authori-ty of a n Cape missionary. A man haviug sat down on a shelving, low rock near a small fountain to take a little rest after his hearty drink, fell islecp; but the heat of the rock soon listurbed his dreams, when he beheld large lion crouching beforo him, with its eyes glaring in hia face aud withiu little more than a yard of his feet. Ho was at first struck motionless with terror, but, recovering his pres-ence of mi ud. he eyed his gun and be-gan moving his hand slowly toward it, when the lion raised its head and gave tromoudous roar, the same awful warning being ropoatod whenever tho ntau attempted to move his hand. The rock at length became so heated that he could scarcely bear his naked feet to touch it. Tho day passed and the night also, but the lion never moved from tho spot; the sun rose again and its intense heat soon rendtired his feet past feeling. At lioou the lion roso and walked to the water, only a few yards distant, looking behind as he went, lest the man should move, when, seeing him stretch out his band to take his gun, it turned iu a rage, and was on the point of springing upon him. And er night had passed as the former had done, and the next day again the lion weut toward the water, but while 'here he listened to some noise appar-ently from an opposite quarter aud disappeared iu the bushes. Tho man now seized his gun, but on first essay-ing to rise ho dropped, his ankles be-ing without power. At leugth he made the best of his way ou his hands and knees and soon after fell iu with anoth-er native, who took him to a place of safety, and, as he expressed it, with his "toes roasted." Ho lost his toes aud was a cripple for life. The Worth of Autographs. Autograph collecting is a very inno-cent though somewhat costly hobby. My collection has cost me over $ ")()0, and its cash value y is over 000. Autographs have their cash prices and will always fetch them. Tho signa-ture of a President of the United States is worth $1 that is to say any since Garfield. Garfield's is cheap nt $2. and Lincoln's at $10. A letter written by Liue.olu early in the war has been sold for Thomas Jefferson's signature fetches $10 and is very scarce. Foreign autographs run high. Tho lirst Napo-leon's is worth between fc'O to $50; Dr. Johnson's about the same. Queen Victoria's is sold as low as ffi.60. and is often a forgery at that. The Prince of Wales has been very sparing with his autographs, and the only one I ever knew of being sold brought $12.50. Lord lieaconslield's is worth $5, but as Mr. Gladstone will courteously reply to any letter sent him, his autograph is a drug in the market, and has scarcely any cash value at all. Boulant er's autograph used to sell for f 1, aud Bismarck's is worth A woman at Hagerstown, Md., has three times that rtmonnt. goose which came into her possession when she was married, twenty-on- e years ago. The fowl is iu good health. |