NEPTUNE
Will be evening star during the month, rising at 1:35 p. m. on the 1st and at 11:36 a. m. on the 31st, and setting at 3:09 a. m. on the 2d, and at 1:10 a. m. on the 1st of February. On the 8th, at 1:02 a. m., it is 6′ south of the moon. On the 28th, at 3:00 p. m., it is stationary. From the 1st to the 28th its motion will be 12½ seconds of arc retrograde, and from the latter date to the end of the month 8.7 seconds of arc direct. Its diameter equals 1.6 seconds. Will be found in the constellation Aries. Neptune is so far away that really little is known in regard to it. Its peculiar interest to us centers in the fact developed in its discovery, namely, that notwithstanding comparatively little is definitely settled in astronomical science, a wonderful degree of exactness has been attained in the computation of the places of the heavenly bodies. In 1820, astronomer Bouvard, of Paris, made a new and improved set of tables which formed the basis of the calculations made on the motions of Jupiter, Saturn and Uranus. In a few years it was found by observations that Uranus failed to occupy the place assigned him by the tables. In twenty-four years the disagreement amounted to two minutes of arc (a slight error, one would think, but not to be overlooked, and easily measured). The discrepancy led Mr. John C. Adams, an English student, in 1843, and M. Leverrier, a Frenchman, in 1845, each without the knowledge of the other, to attempt to reckon the elements of an unknown planet that would cause the disturbance. Adams, in October, 1845, communicated the results of his efforts to Prof. Airy, Astronomer Royal, who, however, for some reason not very clear, failed to make any search in the quarter directed. In 1846, the result of Leverrier’s calculations were published, and bore such a striking similarity to those of Mr. Adams, that Prof. Challis, of Cambridge Observatory, immediately began a very thorough search, and had made considerable progress, when Leverrier in September, 1846, wrote to Dr. Galle, of Berlin Observatory, giving him the elements, and asking him to direct his telescope to a certain portion of the heavens. This the Doctor did, and the result was that on the 23d of September, 1846, the planet afterward called Neptune, was found within a very short distance from the point indicated by both M. Leverrier and Mr. Adams.
[WORK FOR WOMEN.]
It is a well established fact that the women of the nineteenth century are workers. They work not only from necessity, but very many from choice. An Eastern journal recently remarked in regard to the general feeling among women that they ought and desired to do something, “It is getting to be good form to support yourself.” Girls are supporting themselves very generally, but as yet the majority are in the old and over-filled fields of teaching, sewing, and clerking. There is a constant demand among young women for something new. What work is there for them to learn which will be steady, lucrative, and womanly? And what steps must they take to learn it, and to obtain situations? These questions are daily asked. Many plod in ill-paid, uncongenial places, because they see no other avenues open. To show what work there is, and how learned and secured, Messrs. G. P. Putnam’s Sons have recently published, in their “Handy-Volume Series,” a little volume on “Work for Women.” The book is decidedly practical. As the author in his preface claims, it answers accurately the questions: “Is there a good chance to get work? How long will it take me to make myself competent? Are there many in the business? How much do they earn? Are there any objections against entering this employment; if so, what are they?” Exactly the questions which should be asked and satisfactorily answered before entering any work. Among the employments of which the author, Mr. G. P. Manson, speaks, industrial drawing properly holds the foremost place. For women of real taste and originality it is peculiarly suitable; but they must have both qualities. Without either a woman should never run the risk of entering the field; unless, indeed, she can afford to make the experiment. To one familiar with dry goods and house-furnishing, who knows the almost infinite varieties in the patterns of carpets, wall-papers, oil-cloths, calicoes, and the like, there can be no question about the chances for employment for skilled laborers. The work pays, too, and is pleasant. Still more important, there is little danger of one being lowered by it to a mere machine. It is work in which one grows.
Some wise words, worth remembering, are said in regard to phonography. A valuable idea to the learner is that the practical teacher, that is, the bona fide reporter, is worth more than many lessons from one who has learned the art simply to teach it, but has never practiced; and that the constant practice of what one may learn from any one of the books on the subject will be of more service than an extended course in a short-hand school. Most excellent is the advice given to ladies studying phonography that they should add book-keeping and type-writing. With these acquirements a woman can not fail in finding employment.
The art of telegraphy is to be learned in about the same way as phonography—by practice and patience. There are about forty schools in the United States where it is taught. Of these the New York Cooper Union School of Telegraphy is undoubtedly foremost; but before selecting a school it is wise to get the experience of a skilled operator—a most excellent plan to follow, by the way, in any field. Women rarely advance in this business beyond a certain rank, and unless luck favors them with a situation in the private office of a generous employer, they rarely reach positions which pay more than sixty dollars per month.
It is astonishing that work which at first thought seems to require so little skill as feather-curling, should average to expert laborers fifteen to twenty dollars per week, through the entire year, and sometimes reach as high as forty dollars per week. But this is the fact, and the work, too, is less confining than sewing. There is a serious drawback, however—the girls and women are not always moral, and the association is thus dangerous. None of the professions of which Mr. Manson speaks are more suitable for women than that of nursing. The feeling that it is a menial service is entirely wrong. There is no position which a woman can hold which requires more character, skill, self-control and wisdom. Mr. Manson, in his chapter on nursing, gives exactly the information which is needed for a woman about to enter the profession. Indeed, this is true of all that he says on the different branches of work which he takes up, among which are photography, proof-reading, type-setting, book-binding, lecturing, public reading, book selling, dress-making and millinery.
There are several varieties of work on which he has made but brief notes, to which we wish he would give further attention. These are employments at which women may earn their living, and yet be at home. There are many women left with families and little homes who struggle to live by sewing, washing, and the like, because they do not know what else to do. There are several employments suitable to them, and in which women almost invariably succeed; such are bee keeping, poultry raising, market gardening and cultivating flowers. A little capital is necessary, but a very little will start a business which, if well managed, can hardly fail to become prosperous. There are two great considerations in favor of such work: it is healthy, and allows one to remain at home. The considerations which should govern a woman in selecting any one of the employments mentioned in this little volume are satisfactorily discussed, and any one desiring information upon the vexed question, “What shall I do?” will receive valuable suggestions.
[OSTRICH HUNTING.]
By LADY FLORENCE DIXIE.
The following animated description of ostrich hunting in Patagonia is taken from a book by Lady Florence Dixie, published by R. Worthington, New York:
As we rode silently along, with our eyes well about us, in the hopes of sighting an ostrich, my horse suddenly shied at something white lying on the ground at a few paces distant. Throwing the reins over his head, I dismounted and walked toward the spot. Amongst some long grass I discovered a deserted nest of an ostrich containing ten or eleven eggs, and calling François to examine them, was greatly chagrined to find that none of them were fresh. With the superstition of an ostrich-hunter François picked up a feather lying close at hand, and sticking it in his cap, assured us that this was a good sign, and that it would not be long before we came across one of these birds.
His prediction was speedily verified, for on reaching the summit of a little hill, up which we had slowly and stealthily proceeded, two small gray objects suddenly struck my eye. I signed to François and my brother, who were riding some twenty yards behind me, and putting spurs to my horse, galloped down the hill toward the two gray objects I had perceived in the distance. “Choo! choo!” shouted François, a cry by which the ostrich-hunters cheer their dogs on, and intimate to them the proximity of game. Past me like lightning the four eager animals rushed, bent on securing the prey which their quick sight had already detected.
The ostriches turned one look on their pursuers, and the next moment they wheeled round, and making for the plain, scudded over the ground at a tremendous pace.
And now, for the first time, I began to experience all the glorious excitement of an ostrich-hunt. My little horse, keen as his rider, took the bit between his teeth, and away we went up and down the hills at a terrific pace. On and on flew the ostriches, closer and closer crept up “Leona,” a small, red, half-bred Scotch deerhound, with “Loca,” a wiry black lurcher at her heels, who in turn was closely followed by “Apiscuña” and “Sultan.” In another moment the little red dog would be alongside the ostriches. Suddenly, however, they twisted right and left respectively, scudding away in opposite directions over the plain, a feint which of course gave them a great advantage, as the dogs in their eagerness shot forward a long way before they were able to stop themselves. By the time they had done so the ostriches had got such a start that, seeing pursuit was useless, we called the dogs back. We were very much disappointed at our failure, and in no very pleasant frame of mind turned our horses’ heads in the direction of our camp.
We were a good deal chaffed when we got home on the score of our non-success, and over pipes and coffee that night a serious council of war was held by the whole of our party, as regards ostrich-hunting for the morrow.
Forming a circle was suggested. This being the method by which the Indians nearly always obtain game. It is formed by lighting fires round a large area of ground into which the different hunters ride from all sides. A complete circle of blazing fires is thus obtained, and any game found therein is pretty sure to become the prey of the dogs, as no ostrich or guanaco will face a fire. Wherever they turn they see before them a column of smoke, or are met by dogs and horsemen. Escape becomes almost impossible, and it is not long before they grow bewildered and are captured.
Next morning, the horses being all ready, we lost no time in springing into the saddle. For about half an hour we followed along a line of broken hillocks, after which, calling a halt, we sent forward Guillaume and I’Aria to commence the first and most distant proceedings of the circle. They departed at a brisk canter, and it was not long before several rising columns of smoke testified that they were already busily engaged.
For some time Gregorio and I rode slowly and silently on our way, when a sudden unexpected bound which my horse gave all but unseated me. “Avestruz! Avestruz!” shouted Gregorio, and turned his horse with a quick movement. “Choo! choo! Plata!” I cry to the dog who followed at my horse’s heels, as a fine male ostrich scudded away toward the hills we had just left with the speed of lightning. Plata has sighted him, and is straining every limb to reach the terrified bird. He is a plucky dog and a fleet one, but it will take him all his time to come alongside that great raking ostrich as he strides away in all the conscious pride of his strength and speed. “We shall lose him!” I cry, half mad with excitement, spurring my horse, who is beginning to gasp and falter as the hill up which we are struggling grows steeper and steeper. But the ostrich suddenly doubles to the left, and commences a hurried descent. The cause is soon explained, for in the direction toward which he has been making a great cloud of smoke rises menacingly in his path, and, balked of the refuge he had hoped to find amidst the hills, the great bird is forced to alter his course, and make swiftly for the plains below. But swiftly as he flies along, so does Plata, who finds a down-hill race much more suited to his splendid shoulders and rare stride. Foot by foot he lessens the distance that separates him from his prey, and gets nearer and nearer to the fast sinking, fast tiring bird. Away we go, helter-skelter down the hill, unchecked and undefeated by the numerous obstacles that obstruct the way. Plata is alongside the ostrich, and gathers himself for a spring at the bird’s throat. “He has him, he has him!” I shout to Gregorio, who does not reply, but urges his horse on with whip and spur. “Has he got him, though?” Yes—no—the ostrich with a rapid twist has shot some thirty yards ahead of his enemy, and whirling round, makes for the hills once more. And now begins the struggle for victory. The ostrich has decidedly the best of it, for Plata, though he struggles gamely, does not like the uphill work, and at every stride loses ground. There is another fire on the hill above, but it lies too much to the left to attract the bird’s attention, who has evidently a safe line of escape in view in that direction. On, on we press; on, on flies the ostrich; bravely and gamely struggles in its wake poor Plata. “Can he stay?” I cry to Gregorio, who smiles and nods his head. He is right, the dog can stay, for hardly have the words left my lips when, with a tremendous effort, he puts on a spurt, and races up alongside the ostrich. Once more the bird points for the plain; he is beginning to falter, but he is great and strong, and is not beaten yet. It will take all Plata’s time and cunning to pull that magnificent bird to the ground, and it will be a long fierce struggle ere the gallant creature yields up his life. Unconscious of anything but the exciting chase before me, I am suddenly disagreeably reminded that there is such a thing as caution, and necessity to look where you are going to, for, putting his foot in an unusually deep tuca-tuca hole, my little horse comes with a crash upon his head, and turns completely over on his back, burying me beneath him in a hopeless muddle. Fortunately, beyond a shaking, I am unhurt, and remounting, endeavor to rejoin the now somewhat distant chase. The ostrich, Gregorio, and the dog have reached the plain, and as I gallop quickly down the hill I can see that the bird has begun doubling. This is a sure sign of fatigue, and shows that the ostrich’s strength is beginning to fail him. Nevertheless it is a matter of no small difficulty for one dog to secure his prey, even at this juncture, as he can not turn and twist about as rapidly as the ostrich. At each double the bird shoots far ahead of his pursuer, and gains a considerable advantage. Away across the plain the two animals fly, whilst I and Gregorio press eagerly in their wake. The excitement grows every moment more intense, and I watch the close struggle going on with the keenest interest. Suddenly the stride of the bird grows slower, his doubles become more frequent, showers of feathers fly in every direction as Plata seizes him by the tail, which comes away in his mouth. In another moment the dog has him by the throat, and for a few minutes nothing can be distinguished but a gray struggling heap. Then Gregorio dashes forward and throws himself off his horse, breaks the bird’s neck, and when I arrive upon the scene the struggle is over. The run had lasted for twenty-five minutes.
Our dogs and horses were in a most pitiable state. Poor Plata lay stretched on the ground with his tongue, hot and fiery, lolling out of his mouth, and his sides going at a hundred miles an hour. The horses, with their heads drooped till they almost touched the ground, and their bodies streaming with perspiration, presented a most pitiable sight, and while Gregorio disemboweled and fastened the ostrich together, I loosened their girths, and led them to a pool hard by to drink. At length they became more comfortable, and as soon as they seemed in a fit state to go on, Gregorio and I lifted the huge bird on to his horse, and tied it across the animal’s withers. Encumbered thus, Gregorio turned to depart in the direction of the camp, followed by Plata, while I went in an opposite direction in search of my companions down in the plain. It was not long before I distinguished in the far distance an ostrich coming straight toward me, closely followed by a dog and two horsemen. Galloping to meet them, I was the means of turning the bird into “Peaché’s” jaws, for such was the name of I’Aria’s dog. The two horsemen turned out to be the old fellow in question and my brother, who arrived, hot and full of excitement, on the scene just as I was throwing myself from my horse to prevent Peaché from tearing the bird to pieces. Leaving I’Aria to complete the hunter’s work, my brother and I rode slowly back toward our camp, discussing the merits of our horses, dogs, and the stamina of the two ostriches we had slain.
One by one the other hunters dropped in. They had all been successful, with the exception of Guillaume; and as we stood grouped round the five large ostriches lying on the ground, we congratulated ourselves on our good fortune, and on the excellent sport we had had. At dinner we passed judgment on ostrich-meat, which we now really tasted for the first time, for what we had obtained from the Indian camp had been dry and unpalatable. We thought it excellent; the breast and wings are particularly good; the latter much resemble pheasant.
[CHRISTIAN MISSIONS.]
The most recent intelligence at hand from the Missionary Boards of the different denominations is so full of general interest and encouragement that we give the results that have been reached. With the tens of thousands of our thoughtful readers, we rejoice greatly in this work so efficiently carried on by the American churches at home and abroad.
The latter part of the nineteenth century is becoming more and more a missionary era. Practical heed is given to the “Great Commission,” and the heralds are sent forth into all the world, with the tidings of “peace on earth, and good-will to men.”