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- tx - -- ^ ^ • ••• "> * ' '-:', . 'v-^ ••••'-,•:•••;• -- .* y.» <."< '--V •4P w«« . . ..U. * . - - ' ' '- ' TOM'S COME HOWE. B**J. J. TBOWBBIDO*. It fPMtrfte feMvfty rftckinR and swinging fh:» RU«f-coach rolls nj. the mountain. . he mowers lean on tin ir Rc>thes and a»]r, t ^ TIullo! what brings Big George this wijrt * ' children olisab the rfsts »'id wait _ _ Hfr.> see him drive through the dooryard gat*.; *h„n; four-in-ha«c!, eedste aud grand, 4® brimrs the old craft like a ship to land. -if It 'h* window, mild, grandmotherly eye* ;<g , ieiiu from their glasses with quaint surprise, i • ttrow w d? v ith wonder, and guees, and doubt; Then a nmck, half-stifled voice shrieks out, > "Tom! Tom's come home I" , , y*'; The face at the casement disappears, ° , • ? To shine at the door, Joy and tears, _ /. As a traveler, dusty and l>earded and brown, Crt r the wheel steps lichtly down. " Well, mother!" "My son!" And to his breast A forward-tottering form is pressed. fllie lies there, and cries there; now at arms-length Admires his manly size auu «ireiixtu ?A"hiIe he winks hard one misty eye); hen calls to the youngster staring nigh-- «' Quick! Ro for your granther! run, boys, Tell Wm your uncle--tell him his son-- Our Tom's come home I" Th* stage-coach waits; but little cares ail* What faces pleasantly smile to see Ber lusUed glasses and tumbled cap. Bit; George's hands the trunk unstrap i i>ear it in : while two light-heeled "toung Mercuries fly to ths mowing field, And shriek and Reckon, and meet half-way The old gian'ther, iame and gaunt and gray, Coat on arm, half in alarm, ®tri ling over the stony farm. The good news clears his cloudy face, And he cries as he quickens his anxious paoe, <« Tom ? Tom come home ?" With twitching cheek and quivering lid <A soft heart under the hard lines hid), And " Tom. how d'e do ?" in a hnsky voice. He grasps with rough, strong hand the boy*-- A bov's no more. '• I shouldn't have known That"beard." While Tom's fine baritone 'Bolls out from his deep chest cheerily, 44 You're hale as ever, I'm glad to see." Ill the back porch the mother stands, And rubs her glasses with trembling hands, Atld smiling, with eyes that blear and blink, Chimes in, "I never!" and "Only think! ^ Out Tom's come home!" With question and joke and acecdote, Be brushes his hat, they dust his coat, While all the household gathers near-- Tanned urchins, eager to see and hear. d large-eyed, dark-eyed, shy young mother, Widow of Tom's unlucky brother, Who turned out ill, and was drowned at the mill; The stricken old people mourn him still. And the hope of their lives in him undone; But grief for the dissolute, ruined son-- Their best beloved and oldest boy- Is all forgotten, or turned to joy, Now Tom's oooie home. Yet Tom was never the favored child, hsutrh Tom was steady and Will was wild! ut often his own and his brother's share f blows snd blame he was forced to bear; Till at last he said, "Here is no room For both --I go!" Now he to whom Scant grace was shown, has proved the one Large-hearted, upright, trusty son: And well may the old folks joy to find His brow so frank and his eye so kind, No shadow of all the past allowed To trouble the present hour, or cloud His welcome home. His trunk unlocked, the lid he lifts, And lays out carious, costly gifts; For Tom has prospered since he went Into his long self-banishment. Each youngster's glee, as he hugs his share. The widow's surprise, and the old folks' all Of affectionate pride in a son so good, Thrill him with generous gratitude. And he thinks, " Am I th»t lonely lad Who went off friendles-s, poor and sad, That dismal daj from my father's door?" And can it be true that he is here once more In his childhood's home ? 'TIS hard to think of his brother dead. And a widow and orphans here in his stead So little seems changed since they were yonngl The row of hats where the hats were hung; The checkered chimney and hearth of bricks; The sober old clock with its lonesome ticks And shrill, loud chime for the flying time; The stairs the bare feet used to climb, Tom chasing his wild bedfellow Will; And there is the small, low bed-room still, And the table he had when a little lad; Ah, Tom, does it make you sad or glad, This coming home ? Tom's heart is moved. " Now, don't mind me I I am no stranger guest," cries he. •" And, father, I say!' with the old-tune laugh-- •• Don't kill for me any fatted calf! But go now and show me the sheep and swine . And the cattle--where is that colt of mine?-- And the farm and crops--is harvest over? I d like a chance at the oats and clover! I can mow, you'll And, and cradle and bind, Load hay. stow away, pitch, rake behind; For I know a scythe from a well-sweep yet, In an hour I'M make you quite forget That I've been from home." He plucks from its peg an old farm hat, And with cordial chat upon this and that, Tom walks with his father about the place. "There's a pensive grace in his fine young face As they loiter under the orchard trees, .As be breathes once more the mountain breeze, And looks from the hillside far away. Over pasture and fallow and field of hay, To the hazy peaks of the azure range, Which change forever, yet never change. The wild, sweet winds his welcome blow; Even old Monadnock seems to know That loin's come home. The old man stammers and speaks at last; " You notice your mother is failing fast, Though she can't see it. Poor Will's disgrace - And debts, and the mortgage on the place; His su-.iden death--'twas a dreadful Mow; :"3bs couldn't bear up like a man, you know. She's talked of you !*ince the trouble came; . some things in the past she seems to blame Herself for; what, it is hard to tell. "I marvel how she keeps round so well, yFor often all night she lies awake. Co thankful, if only for her sake, That you've come home." They visit the field; Tom mows with the men; And now they come round to the porch again. The mother draws Tom aside; let sink Her voice to a whisper, and, '• What do yon **»<«* f You see," she says, " he is broken quite. Sometimes he tosses and groans all night, And--Tom, it ih hard, it is hard indeed! • The mortgage, and so many mouths to feed! But tell him he must not worry so, Acid work so hard, for he don't know That he hasn't the strength of a younger man. Counsel him, comfort him, all you can, While you're at home." Tom's heart is full; he moves away, And ponders what he will do and say. And now at'evening all are met. The tea is drawn, the table set. But when the old man, with bended head, In reverent, fervent tones lias *&id The opening phrase of his simple grace, He falters, the tears course down his face; For the words seem cold, and the sense of the old Set form is too weak his joy to hold; And broken accents best express The upheaved heart's deep thankfulness. Now Tom's come home. The supper done, Tom has his say: 1 M*rd of B0Iae matters first to-day I * cl1' it a shame--you're both to blame-- That a son, who has only to sign his name, To lift the mortgage and clear the score, Should never have had that chance before. irrom thls time forth you are free from care; Your troubles I share; your burdens I bear. ®o promise to quit hard work, and say That you'll give yourselves a holiday. How, rather! now, mother! you cant refuse; For what a a son for, and what's the use Of hlB coming home ?" And so there is a cheer in the house to-night. It cau hardly hold so much delight. Tom wanders forth across the lot, And, under the stars--though Tom is not Bo pious as boys sometimes have been-- Thanks Heaven, that turned his thought from Sin. Ana b.essed him, and brought him home once more And now he kuocks at a cottage door, STor one who has waited many a year C B. Lope that thrilliug sound to hear; tt o, happy as other hearts may be. Knowa well there is none so glad as she That Tom's come home. --Harper'* Monthly for September. take little pains to obtain the good graces or avoid the frowns of fortune. J Among the race of indolent Mussul­ mans, Hakim was the most indolent. He was never known to go out of his way to avoid a misfortune or attain a gratification; and a great portion of his time was passed in indolent contempla­ tion. so profound that, in time, he be­ came known by no other name than that of Hakim, the Dreamer. His favorite place of resort was Sew- ari, an extensive cemetery, charmingly situated on a projecting point nearly op­ posite to the Seven Towers of the Se­ raglio, and where, amid the dead of past ages, he smoked his pipe, gazed around unconscious of the inspiration of the luagniticrnt scene spread out before him, and fell into a state of mind, betwixt sleeping and waking, in which, though the senses are not actually dormant, the imagination often usurps their empire and palms upon them a thousand de­ ceptions. One calm summer evening when the long, lingering twilight threw its soft, hazy vaii over the face of nature, and the Propontis lay spread oat before him -without a ripple, Hakim was seated under the shade of an aged tree that threw its wide branches over the tomb of the famous Derrina A1 Hader, renowned for his sanctity among all orthodox Mus­ sulmans. The scene was beautiful be­ yond description. On one hand lay stretched out before him the vast capital of the empire of the Crescent, which, though shorn of its beams, still retains the vestiges of its former magnificence, rising from whose bosom might be seen the glittering domes and minarets of the splendid mosques of St. Sophia, of the Sultan Valida, and of Solyman, the Magnificent. On tbe other hand, tile glassy mirror of the Propontis, glowing with the purple rays of the setting sun, and thickly covered with vessels, whose white sails hung idly from the mast, spread far and wide, bounded, in the distance, by the smiling coast of the ancient Nicomedia. Li another direc­ tion might be seen the opening of the far-famed Bosphorus, on whose shores the adventurous Argonauts landed in their search for the golden fleece ; where Pollux slew the giant Amycus ; where good old Phineus was persecuted by the Harpies, and which is infamous in the eyes of all the advocates of free trade for being the first place on record where a custom home was established. But Hakim saw not these beauties. He was unconscious of the present, and of the past he was ignorant. His eyes indeed roved from one object to another, but without seeing anything, and his mind was equally excursive without dwelling on any one object. Brit his imagination remained wide awake, ex­ cited as it was by the fumes of his pipe, re-enforced by a pill of opium, which Hakim, being an absolute teetotaler, was accustomed to swallow te give additional zest to his reveries. At length, by de­ grees, the entire scene around him faded away, or at least he became for a time totally unconscious of its existence as well as his own, and the following pageant passed over his head : It seemed as if he were transported, he knew not how, to those times and regions in which mankind embodied their own passions, feelings and appe­ tites in the form of gods and worshipped monsters of their own creation. It chanced that he arrived at the moment when Jupiter, becoming tired with the never-ceasing complaints of the human race concerning the unequal distribution of happiness, and disgusted with their perpetual envy of each other's lot, had determined to punish Ihem in a most exemplary manner, by granting their prayers and permitting them to ex­ change lots with those whose situation in life they considered most happy. Accordingly he had * commanded the goddess Fame to proclaim by sound of trumpet to the uttermost ends of the earth, that all those who were discon­ tented with their lot, or envied that of others, should come together at the foot of Olympus, bringing their cares, anxieties, misfortunes and sufferings in a sack, for the purpose of exchanging with those whom they most envied. Quick as thought, and ere the echoes of the trumpet had ceased to reverbe­ rate among the rccesses of Olympus, HAKIM, THE DREAMER. Hakim, surnamed the Dreamer, was the only son of Hamet, one of the prin­ cipal Uiemas oi Constantinople, a priv­ ileged class who hold their lands inde­ pendently of the will of the Grand Signior, and can only be dispossessed according to law. Having a wealthy and indulgent father, he was free to lollow the bent of that inclination for indolent repose which is one of the leading traits M the followers of Mohammed, who, be­ lieving that Allah governs all things, seemed to Hakim as if the entire nuniau race was in motion. Myriads on myriads same rushing upward, treading 'on each other's hdels and striving to get fore­ most, that they might have the first choice among the mountains of packs that soon rose almost as high as the seat of Jove. Amid the dim obscurity of a vision it was impossible for Hakim to re­ member the vast diversity of cases that presented themselves, or what infinite modes and forms of real or imaginary sufferings occasioned by an abuse of the blessings bestowed by Providence, were huddled together in the mighty mass. A few only were afterward distinctly re memberea by him, and when there seemed to be no more coming the god­ dess again Bounded her trumpet, pro­ claiming that ail those who at the expi ration of a year became dissatisfied with their exchange of lots, might return to that which they had discarded. The first who deposited their packs, according to the recollection of Hakim, were a master and his slave, who, by the sovereign will of Jove, exchanged lots with each other, and both went their way rejoicing. Then came a married rna.n and & bachelor ; next a single and married woman ; after them a childless couple, and one bearing a large family ; next a king and a beggar, followed by a rich glutton and a poor laborer ; and then a philosopher and a fool. All these, and millions more, exohanged lots, and tripped away delighted with their new burdens. Last of all came a venerable old man, with a long white beard flowing down upon his breast, and a pale face scarred with the deep Hues of thought, as well as the still deeper farrows of age. Even Jupiter appeared struck with his ap­ pearance, and questioned him as to the purport of his visit, "Oh! mighty Jove," exclaimed the old man in flattering accents, " I have passed my whole life in study and travel. I know all the past. I have seen all the present, but of the future am as ignorant as the child unborn. Make me, I beseech thjBe, as wise as the dead--let me know what is to come here after. " Oh ! foolish and presumptuous mor­ tal, thou art ignorant, with all thy wis­ dom and experience, of what thou ask-experience, .est Knowest thou not that all things] had "been bestowed the are ordained by fate, and that thy I futurity. knowledge will only make thee more wretched, by showing thee a thousand evils thou canst not avoid and rendering thee incapable of enjoying the 4 pres­ et, in the dread of the future ?' But, take thy wish ; go, and become as wise as the dead." At that moment the old man shud­ dered, and ran away as fast as his feeble limbs would permit, looking behind with glaring eyes, as if chased by a thousand fiends. When the prescribed period had passed, which seemed to Hakim but a moment, the trumpet was again sound­ ed, and, to his astonishment, not only the crowd was as great as before, but constituted the very same pprpnns. The goddess greeted them with a significant smile, and, looking wistfully at Jove, who gave a gracious nod, asked, one by one, what they desired. The first that came were the master and his slave, the former of whom answered as fbllowB: . " To exchange lots again. I am tired of having DO will of my own." * 'And I," said the other, * * have learned that it is much more trouble to govern than to be governed. Give me my pack again." Next came the bachelor and the mar­ ried man. The former, on being inter­ rogated bv the goddess, replied: " Beneficent lady, I come for my old pack. Be pleased to understand, how­ ever, that I admire such beautiful god­ desses as you are, and reverence the highly respectable institution of matri­ mony. Yet inasmuch as the colt which is expected to be obedient under the saddle must be bridled betimes, so, may it please your divinity, should the bache­ lor be broke in early, or he will, perad- venture, kick up incontinently." With this, he eagerly seized his old pack, and hied away, paying a compliment to a beautiful damsel as he passed. The married man who had exchanged his pack with the bachelor hereupon eagerly seized that he had just discard­ ed, and was making off with it, when the goddess demanded what reason he had to be dissatisfied with the lot he had chosen. "May it please your goddesship," replied he, " the moment I regained my freedom I did not know what to do with myself. Being resolved to make the most of my newly-acquired liberty, I plunged into all the gaveties of life ; visited all places of public amusement; frequented the society of ladies, where I made love to them, and was laughed at; and, in short, labored harder in the pursuit of pleasure than I ever did to please my wife or support my family. I found myself in the situation of a top which cannot stand without a good whipping, and so I came back for my pack again." Next in order came the childless couple end the couple having many children, who exchange their lots cnce more, one declaring that children gave more trouble than pleasure; the other that the cares and anxieties of the parent were doubly repaid by that pleasure of possessing these pledges of love. "Of all the vexations of this world," ex­ claimed the first, "cross, disobedient children are the worst;" "and of all the enjoyments of this world," cried the second, " there is nothing* equal to the smiles and endearments of infancy." They were followed by the king and the beggar, the former of whom retained little, and the latter had acquired much of the air noble. Weill" said the goddess, inquir­ ingly. "Let me be a king once more," said the monarch; "though in some respects there is no great difference between us. Both are beggars, having nothing but what they derive from the labors of others. The king is, however, a beggar in a greater sense, and that makes the station more dignified." "Give me my pack again," said the beggar, "for may I be phlebotamized-- that is to say, bitten to death by fleas--if I had not rather eat crumbs out of my hat, sleep under a sky blanket, and wear my birthday suit all the year, than take the trouble of governing such a dis­ orderly, discontented, disobedient set of rascally Democrats as now make the task of governing mankind, which was for­ merly as easy as kiss your hand, rather more than driving a herd of swine. Come, my old fiiend," continued he, shouldering his pack and limping away after his majesty, of whom he begged pharity in the most earnest and affecting manner. The rich man and the poor laborer came next, and seemed to have exchaug ed persons as well as lots, for the former looked hard and scanty, while the latter had become bilious and bloated, a^d halted marvelously in his gait. They rc-exchanged their lots with apparently equal satisfaction. " When I was rich," said the first, lacked appetite ; but then I had plenty of food, -which, on the whole, is better than being hungry and having nothing to eat." "When I was poor," said the other, "to be sure I lacked leisure and food, but when I became rich I was still worse, for I had neither appetite nor rest. It cost me more labor to digest one dinner than to earn a dozen, and, instead of sleeping quietly, I was con stantly ridden by the nightmare, which is ten times worse than walking on foot all day. Besides, I had got a bad tem per in exchange for a good one, and was always fretting at something. Then this confounded toe of mine ah, what twinge V exclaimed he, making a mw^el- ous wry face, ana snatching up the pack which the other had thrown away, walked off with a firm step to his daily labor, After these had retired, the wise man and the foci approached. " I am sick of having nothing to think of," said the one. " I am tired of always thinking," ex­ claimed the other. " Since I became wise, I find myself only the more con­ scious of my ignorance, and my sole amusement is in laughing at those fools who pass their whole lives in learning much and knowing nothing. _ Give me my cap and bells. Good-by wisdom and welcome folly." So saying he departed, making enormous grimaces and cuiting the most stupendous capers. Even the immortal Jove could not for­ bear smiling at this exhibition, and was indulging his merry hun.or, when there approached the aged man, with venera­ ble countenance and long white beard s weping down over his breast, on whom knowledge of *' Thou mayest remember, Oh mighty Jupiter," said he, "that exactly one year ago, I, in the presumptuous ignorance of my soul, begged of thee the gift of knowledge of the future as well as of the past and present. Thou didst graciously grant my request, and, like yonder fool, I went my way rejoicing. But ever since that hour I have enjoyed neither peace nor rest. The recollections of the past, the happiness of the present, are all swallowed up in the contemplation of the future, and the dread anticipation of a train of certain evils and sufferings that pass like grim specters before my aching eyes, foretelling and foredoom­ ing unutterable woes to come. Take back thy gift. Oh! mighty Jove! and let me be blind as before!" Jupiter shook his ambrosial carls and gave the nod of fate. The old man seemed relieved of a mighty burden, but, after standing a few moments, sighed and said, "Alas! what now re­ mains for an old man like me!" "To be content with thy lot in this world, and deserve a better if thou canst, cried Jupiter, in a voice so loud and dread that it aroused Hakim from his revery, and, seeing that darkness had gathered around, he knocked the ashes out of his pipe and returned to the city, pondering on his dream. , The Grace Darling of America. Ida Lewis, the u Grace Darling of America," continues to be an object of attraction, and daily she receives callers at the little Lime Bock Lighthouse, lo­ cated in this harbor, near Fort Adams. It is severs! yegurs since she has saved any lives, yet she is ever on the alert to render assistance when needed. The only occupants of the lighthouse now besides herself are her sister and mother, her father having died a few years ago. Not finding married life congenial to her taste, Ida returned to her romantic home, and is again known by the name of "Lewis," instead of " Wikon," and it is not probable that she will again leave her aged mother for the attrac­ tions of married life. Daily she may be seen in the harbor managing her row- boat--one of the prettiest in the place, and one of her numerous presents for her gallantry in savhjg life--and, of course, her movements are watched by the strangers upon being informed that she is the young lady of whom they have heard so often. A few days ago she went to Rocky Point, and, like numer­ ous other ladies, engaged a boat and went rowing. She thought no one knew her, but in this she was mistaken, for she had no sooner pushed off when the excursionists at that place rushed to the wharf to see her wonderful movements. She remained in the boat for a long time, and showed the curious spectators what she could do with a boat. Every­ body waa delighted, and she was repeat- edly applauded. It was one of the chief attractions at that charming summer re­ sort on that day, and the lessee of the place thought it would be a good idea to have her visit that locality every day for the benefit of the guests. Frequent­ ly in this harbor she passes others en­ gaged in the same business, and by her movements challenges the gentlemen or lady occupants of the boats to a race. They are usually beaten, and a few days ago she led by twenty yards another row-boat manned by a veteran in the business, and who, in the collection of ship news, is obliged to use his oars every day. She is quite young, not be­ ing over thirty, and is considered very fair-looking by those who are judges of such matters. She speaks of the many lives she has saved with unusual mod­ esty, and we have never heard of her expressing herself otherwise than thank­ ful that it was her duty to risk her own life for the benefit of others. She takes the responsibility of having the light­ house properly cared for, and the mariner has yet to be found who can say that the Lime Bock Lighthouse was not found lighted every time he has entered or left this port, and it is hoped the Govern­ ment will continue to allow her to be its keeper as long as she is willing to per­ form its onerous duties.--Newport Let­ ter in the New York Herald. THE PACIFIC ISLANDS. €ana*Iian I'adfie HsIIwaiy. The people of Vancouver'^ Island are considerably agitated on account of the general supposition that the Dominion government has practically abandoned the scheme of a Canadian Pacific railway, the western terminus of which had been promised to the Island. On the occasion of Lord Dufferin's recent visit to Vic­ toria he was waited upon by a deputa­ tion of citizens, who presented an ad dress setting forth the grievances of the Province in the matter of the railroad project. Lord Duffer in declined to re­ ceive the addresses, but referred the petitioners to the Crown. A good deal of feeling is manifested by the Islanders, and there is open talk of a separation from the Dominion unless the railroad is built according to the original agree­ ment. The Toronto Globe, speaking with authority as a ministerial organ, denies that the government has aban doned the Pacific railroad project Curious Lawsuit. The Springfield (Me.) Reporter gives an account of a funny lawsuit in that town, brought in the name of the estate of Ira Brackett against John H. Powers, for assault and battery on a boy named George A. Brackett. Ira Brackett, the grandfather, wanted the boy George's hair cut, and told the barber to cut it as short as he could over the comb. It was done so, but that was shorter than they thought for, so he brought suit for dam ages. The family made the boy eat with his hat on, because they can't bear his looks at the table, and don't send him to school, for the boys will laugh at him. No malice was shown, and the barber was discharged. Spiders and Snakes in Connecticut. In Nelson Williams' cellar a spider had prepared his web between a barrel and tub, and there, suspendod from the ground, hung a small snake about ten or eleven incnes in length. The thread of the web had been ingeniously twisted or woven around the tail of the unfor­ tunate reptile, and it was evident that he had been drawn up from the ground. The spider seemed anxioualy watching his squirming victim from one corner of the web, probably waiting for life to be­ come ext net. The snake remained in this precarious attitude for thirty-six hours, and then escaped.--Danictsville Tran8CtipL Their Races, Pesjil^ and Trails. ' Capt. Simpson, who has been explor­ ing the Pacific ocean for the past five years, has lately delivered a most inter­ esting lecture at Sherborne, in England, upon the islands and the population which he visited in his travels. He has given very curieus details about the Saloman islands, about which very little is known. It has been believed by Dar­ win and other sages that all these islands were once united and formed a conti­ nent. Some of them were coral, others basalts or of volcanic formation. Several of them are surrounded by coral reefs of 800 or 400 miles, in the interior of which are four or five large islands. The real volcanic islands have reefs very near their shores. All the sea between New Guinea and Australia being on a single bottom level, anchors may be sunk in any place, and there is no doubt these two countries were once united. These islands are inhabited by two distinct races, though there are a great variety of inhabitants. One is that people which inhabit the Caroline, Marshall, and Gil­ bert islands, who are Malays, with long, straight, and generally black hair. The others are the Papuans, a race with woolly and crisped hair. The Tongans, the New Zealanders, and the Samoans are mixtures of the two races. Accord­ ing to a tradition of the New Zealanders they came either from Samoa or Tonga. The people of these islands are expert navigators, lney sometimes start off for six months in a flotilla of canoes and travel several hundred miles in that man­ ner. Upon one of the Baloman islands Capt. Simpson met seven men and four or five women, who had started in canoes upon a voyage of 1,400 miles. At the Strong islands we saw one of the most astonishing constructions in the fcworld ; it is of stone, twenty feet in length, roughly hewn, and is surrounded by immense trenches. He questioned the tribes of this island in vain upon the traditions of the country. The island is inhabited by a degenerate race. The connection of the islanders with the Europeans is very disadvantageous to the former ; they Lave contracted habits of drunkenness and other vices, which has caused a rapid depopulation. Ten years ago the Strong islands Had 2,000 inhabitants ; in 1874 they were reduced to 250. The islanders are very simple and quiet in their ways. When Capt. Simpson visited the house of the King, he found his wife, a charming little woman, sealed before an embroidery stand. She spoke English very well, and was very affable and polite ; but later, when he bought four cows for his ships, he noticed that one of them was that of the wife ©f the American missionary, and that it had been stolen by His Majesty. Upon the neighboring island he was struck with the difference between .the two people. Upon this island, one mile and a half in length and one mile in width, and which is of stone, he found 2,000 inhabitants and he attributes this fact to the isola­ tion in which they live, far from all white people. They are very inoffen­ sive, and have never even seen a man-of- war. A pirate in whose pursuit the Captain had been sent, paid a pension to the chief as long as he needed it, and they lived in the best understanding. The inhabitants own a great number of tortoises, weighing as much as^ 300 pounds apiece, and which they willingly part with for a pinch of tobacco. They are of a far more robust temperament than those who have been in continual relations with Europeans. Capt. Simp­ son also visited the beautiful island of Lugona, the inhabitants of which are very simple. They are very black and wear long hair. The men particularly pay great attention to their hair, and de­ light in ornamenting it with flowers. Women wear theirs short, and are not allowed to appear in public. The Cap­ tain saw savages on another island, Hookadudos, of the same race as those of Lugona, who would not allow white people to land upon their shores. _ They even attacked a German brig which at­ tempted to approach them, but was obliged tp fly, after having escaped from GR^AT GANGER. $iir>pso& t1 . night time; the savages were so fright­ ened that they immediately fled to an­ other island. The Captain made a tour of the place and found thirty or forty canoes. He vainly tried to approach the savages by showing them presents of pearls, necklaces, mirrors, etc., but they could not make up their minds to admit white people among them. These sav­ ages are almost entirely naked. Their arms are lances, slings and stones. Capt. Simpson managed to get possession of an earring, which he took from the ear of a savage ; it is a sort of tortoise-shell chain, two yards in length. They bore great holes in their ears and also in the skin of their necks, to support the weight of these earrings. The natives of the island of New Hanover know nothing either of tobacco or of Eu­ ropeans. What caused them the great­ est astonishment was a fragment of an old newspaper. Anything could be ob­ tained of them with a piece of paper. He asked a savage if paper was a precious thing. "Oh yes," he was answered ; "this paper is worth several excellent women!" Upon the island of New Britain the inhabitants were very sus­ picious. They even fired their javelins at several of the officers, who were obliged to use their firearms and kill two or three. The Captain then visited the Saloman islands, inhabited by canni­ bals. He saw a row of scalps in the house of the chief, into which he man­ aged to penetrate. The most remarka­ ble island in one particular is the Isa­ bella, where the people live in the trees. The Captain saw the house of the chief, ornamented by twenty-five freshly-cut human heads. He asked the son of the {.Viiftf the motive of these executions. "Oh, there is hone," he answered. " We only sent out to cut off heads." It is to escape these man-chases that the savages retire into trees, together with their families, to pass the nights. Capt. Simpson ascended to one of these cabins. It was situated at a height of eighty feet, and was reached by a vine ladder. The Captain has brought'a slip of this vine back with him ; it resembles a slip of a gigantic French bean-stalk. It is of the size of a large scimitar. These airy houses have lost a great deal of their value since the natives have learned the use of revolvers. 81'1* POSE. •« *. K. BontnoK Suppose, Fsdette, that I, instead of keeping tryst With yoa to-night, had staid sway to doae, Or cell upon Miss Brant, or play at whist-- Suppose f Skt. _ Suppose xoa M4? Think you I should have oared f Indeed, Ain't you a hit ooncel----don't take my rose-- A gift to me. From whom? Well--Jose j 1 . Mead, Suppose? Then I'm to^underptand, Tagette • ' ^*1 * must read your words as plainest pint mj presence matters not to you--and--yet, Suppose-- Sh*. (Rtitmvma • ^ understand me ? You're free; _P°' y?u wish! And--oh! tbe river's frosa What ssaMng we shall have! To-morrow we-- a i That's Jose-- • And Jose Be hanged! It seems te me, Miss Lowe, that J 0 Are acting rather lightly: rumor goes . That he--but since I seem to bore, Adieu!-- Sm. Suppose-- Be. Supposes We say good-night. P--.' •§**• Good-niglrt. slr, and i Be. What does this mean, Fadette? Are you- She* we'll cloM This scene at once. My words are plain, sir,' Suppose? Be. Compose Yourself, Fadette. She. My name, air, is Miss Lowe! Be. Oopae, came, Fadette, do look beyond you nose, And-- She, Here's your ring, sir! Be. I receive, it, thougl Suppose-- Sh*. Suppese You do, sir ?--you-- Be. Enough, Miss Loire. Fare we L 'Tis best. I've been deceived in you, God knowJ Coquette! a heartless niri! a haughty belle Who chose-- she. Suppose-- Oh!--oh! let's part as friends! I hate you there! Be. Fadette! why, sweet, In tears! This sure! shows YouH pardon me, a brute! Sh*. And--Frank--we'll ne:I Suppose. --Seribner for September. Pith and Point. THE proper name for a quack dejj tress--Charlotte-Ann. THE woman who tried to kill PJ la Gortschakoff " is reticent." Bet d lar she's a man!"--Graphic. IT is impolite to speak of a man bei confined in 'jail. They say he is " te poiarily inhaling a strained atmospher PROBABLY you have heard why a ister delivering his peroration is lik ragged boy. Because he's to'rd close, you know. It is hardly appare case, however.--Boston Transcript. THE bumble-bee, the bumble-bee, He flew to the top of the tulip-tree; He flew to the top, but he could not stop, For he had to get home to hiB early tea. The bumble-boe, the bumble-bee, He flew away from the tulip-lree; But be made a mistake, and flew into the la^t And he never got home to his early tea. --St. Nicholas for September. " ALFHONSO, dear, what is the dif ence between our Thanksgiving those revolted Turkish province " Really, Clementina, I can't say. W is it?" "Why, you see, here we h Turkey in Christians; there they 1: Christians in Turkey." BIDDY--"Did yez iver see a f wake, a nicer funeral or a purtier co than Paddy's?" Kate--"Niver! wanst." Biddy--"And do yez Paddy was that natural loike, ha come to life and got oat of his coff see himself in it, bedad he hir wouldn't have known he was dead. ROME has one of the shrewdest most reliable weather prophets in world. Being asked whether he tho this Urould be a cold winter or no looked at the sun, dug up some roo grass, examined the husks oi a d ears of corn, and then said, impressi " I don't know." Events will und< edly prove that he was right. A MAN whose reputation was noni the best, recently retired into the t. try to enjoy his ill-gotten gains. A tleman, noticing that he always a j a heavy stick at night, asked : " < this precaution ? Doesn't he knov j the road is safe ?" " Of course," r< a friend ; "he is the last man not aware of the efficiency of the polic< v M WHY, husband," exclaimed a 4 go Tnf*,.not Vr>o"thero go« old neighbor's family in a bran-new coach, horses and coachman. H gone into bankruptcy again?" he hasn't gone into bankruptcy, plied the husband, knowingly, you remember he was elected to tl Council last year!" N. B.--C Aldermen get no salaries. A CERTAIN physician on the Square, says the Cleveland Lead' a large card hung up in his offic these words printed, thereon: ' agents and peddlers charged five an hour for conversation." Th< day a book agent came and was j ginning a rigmarole about "th< and best work on " when the cian pointed to the card. He r< words over but once, when he the physician a five-dollar bill t about to commence operations when the man of medicine said: a chair, please, and keep your Hand me your subscription book Haw now bought a brace of derrir IF anybody still clings to the it Detroit is an old fogy town that laying up sorrow for his soul. _ r. business here without any foolinj or clawing off. Yesterday, after a man walked into a Grand Rivej grocery and said : " Name's j No. 18 Smith street--send up j nice and hard--four pounds--chl The grocer was posting up 1 book, and witnout even raising from the page he replied, "j cash--cantao it." "All righi thunder!" said the customer turned to go. " I will--good- plied the grocer, and in anothe: the store was as lonely as befor Press. BRAZIL has a "Pacific" railway. THEKte died reoentlv on CI land--the only one in Plymouth Mr. Edward Winslow Watson,! his neighbors as the " Lord of j For nearly two centuries his fJ been in possession of the i] which he lived and died. *H| odd genius, having no educatd common acceptation of the pi being both a student of poel poet himself in all hiB habits oil He was entirely uneonventij without taint of coarseness ;; throughout youth and manhooi ous, healthful, .,v.'eet, and / nature.