Connecticut western news., 1889-09-04

i'll weather prophets is not wholly lost, it is stated that Louisiana hens have roasted so high since the prophecy was made that half the colored population is threatened with starvation.-Bing- hampton Republican.
 IT DIED.
 A chicken was recently matched at MT. Monroe Williams, in Albrights township, which had double bill, double head, two pairs of eyes, wings and legs. Pity it died,-Alamance Cleaner.
 QUEER HEN TRAITS.
 It is an Ohio man who now makes a curious discovery. He says if you go out to feed flock of chickens and keep them waiting they will first flock about you, and then begin circuit around you from right to left, and that no amount of interruption or man. converting will confuse or turn them in another direction. The hen is an in exhaustible source of studious con- templation.-Philadelphia Telegram. THE BOY AND THE HEN.
 A Georgia small boy had been pre- sented with hen that was to be "all his own" He has been anxiously awaiting the arrival of the first egg, and the other day it made it's appearance. His mother, thinking his faithful care of the hen ought to be rewarded, sug- gested that his father give him a dime. He was about to do so when the boy, not wishing to take credit that did not belong to him, protesting, exclaimed: ''I didn't lay the egg, papa."- ."-Atlanta Constitution.
 LOndon's Famous Preacher.
 A tall, thin, broad-shouldered man is picking his way through the crowd that is passing to and fro on Westmin- ster Bridge. He is as soldierly like as one of her Majesty's relocated foot guards who are on duty at the Abbey below. In form he resembles MT. Cyrus w. Field. In face he reminds one of MT. Chauncey M. Depew. He strides along nimbly, and from his closely buttoned coat it is quickly seen that he is a minister of the Gospel. He swings along until he comes within sight of Christ Church. It is Sunday night. The bells are pealing out mer- rily, and after glancing at his watch and then toward the west, where the sun is slowly setting, he starts into the vestry of the big, grimy-looking build ing. A score or more of persons rec ognize him and extend their hands. It is Newman Hall, London's famous pulpit orator, and Christ Church is one of the best known in the big city. A door opens, and the white-robed figure of the preacher appears. He is fol- lowed by an assistant. The evening lessons are read, the boy quartet sings, and then the prayers begin. While another hymn is being sung the preach CT walks hurriedly back into his room. In moment he reappears, this time robed in black. He strides grandly across to the pulpit, nimbly walks up the stairs ana falls on his knees, while one hand clasps the pulpit rail, and the other is placed restlessly on his head. The singing ceases. The tones of the organ die away. Every eye is on the preacher. Slowly he begins to pray. His hands move nervously. His sen- tences are slowly uttered. He stops for moment and removes the hand from his head. His face is cut as clean as cameo. Short gray whiskers adorn his cheeks. His upper lip and chin are cleanly shaved. His eyebrows are bushy and his forehead high. The silence lasts only for moment. The gas is suddenly turned on full force. The preacher half rises and continues his prayer. Now his voice sounds like a babbling brook. Then comes a Niagara of words and fervid amen, in which the congregation joins. Another hymn, ''Look, ye saints, the sight is glorious!" The preacher begins promptly with the choir. Those near can hear his shrill falsetto voice as he distinctly enunciates every word. After this he begins his sermon. Not a seat in the vast church is vacant. The speaker repeats his text twice, in d clear, ringing voice. His discourse is a plea for faith. A simple, touch ing, eloquent address, made doubly interesting, for the preacher is an orator and master of gesticulation and dramatic style. In America he might be called theatric, perhaps. Not a word is lost on the audience from the beginning until the final amen. He uses his arms and hands freely. Some. times pounds his desk. Again throws back his shoulders, and with upturned face pleads for mercy for the sinful. Then when he has something forcible to say he leans over the rail and shakes his long, thin finger at his auditors Again, in an agony of doubt he sinks on his knees, covers his face with his hands, and remains for a moment in silent prayer. He sobs, and here and there in the audience women wipe the tears from their eyes. When it is all over he announces that an open-ai1