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MOTHEATU.; . IfABOAKXT B. M.N tl«at beautiful garment, v And r laid it by with care; "J foMH it close with lavends* .SMt» In a napkin fine and fair S w» far t^ mostly a robe," I ssld, -f* Vor one Uke me to wear." 8o n»ver at morn or evening I pat mv par men t on: bit' by itself, under clasp maOfXtif, In the jx-rfnmed dusk alon®, Xto wonderful 'broidery hidden ; Til! many a day bad gone. *b«pp were guests Who came to my portal. There were Iriend* who gat witn me, ' Am clad in somberfRt raiment I bore ihem company; k ie* that I owned a beautiful robe, Though its splendor none might see. "Here were poor who stood at my portal. There were orphaned so«nht my Ml®; j- tJin tcnc^rrcst pitrt But had nothing beside* to spare; I had only the beautiful garment, And the raiment for dally wear. At la«t, on n feast day's coming, K 'bought in my drees to shine; ( would please myself with the luster Of its shifting colore fine. 1 would walk with pride in the marvel Of its rarely rich design. out from the dust I bore it-- • •«. JTSin lavender fell away-- •• . And fold on fold! held it np i.'To the scorchfaR light of the day.. Alas: the glory had perished While there in its place it lay. Who Kteka for the fadeless beauty Must 6eek for the use that seal® Tftt the grace of a constant blessing Ths bounty that use reveals. < - Wbr into the foldoi robe alone ; The moth with its blighting steals. •'« Bazar. JIM. We belonged to the surplus popula­ tion* Jim and I, but we did not know it. The big world into which we came was filled to overflowing with just such puny, unwashed, ill-fed Mttle wretches as we •were, but we didn't know it, and so we came unconscious into the sunless, teem­ ing alley, where countless others like ourselves herded. We didn't know we were a problem, Jim and I; we didn't know that we and our kind were baffling wisdom of statesmen, Jim and I; but if we had known all about it, I doubt if ire eoaid nave occupied the situation more philosophically. We slept as quietly in the under-ground cellar, down whoso oozy steps the rain and jmin of years made slippery passage or bestowed ourselves as naturally, if need be,; under some stranded wayside cart, as if it were precisely the thing Heaven had adapted us for from the beginning. Jim was older and bigger than I; a tell, likely lad, fifteen of these harden­ ing and toughening years had made him keen and sharp as a terrier, and just the lad to look after a forlorn little waif of a girl like myself. And Jim, after he had blacked boots all day or sold newspapers all afternoon, was sure to look after me, and we took supper together oat of the same bowl of porridge. Jim wasn't my brother, oh no! I used to wish he was my brother, though, sometimes, just because I was so proud of hdm. The old man that kept the cellar, you «ee, had picked Jim up from somewhere when his folks died, and picked me up from somewhere when my folks died, and so we had somehow fallen together ail along. Just down beyond the "fog of our alley, "where it turned a sort ofs gray corner, and wa3 darker and dirtierl than ever-- just there stood an old gray\huroh with a clock in the tower; an old^ofd mossy church, with an old, eld clock-that passed its withered hands over its wiz­ ened face, and looked sleepily through them down into our alley on one side, and into a noisy, busy thoroughfare on the other. This old clock had dozed there until its head was all on one side, and you couldn't be sure whether it told the right time or not; but of a summer, afternoon, when it was getting quite dnsk down in our alley, a red ray from the Betting sun used to settle for a mm. '*te right down on the face of the sleepy oM clock; then it would seem to rouse Z«at of a pleasant dream, and strike hour as sharp as need be, and then I knew it was time to look out for Jim. l*d see him turn the comer with his old straw hat on, and his old patched shoes, or barefoot maybe, for that matter, and we'd set off for a stroll together--a stroll to the wharves. We generally haunted the wharves, Jiot and 1, when we went a pleasuring. They were so grand, the wharves, so busy, the wharves, so full of light and freeh air, the wharvee, so altogether different from our alley, with tbe ships crowding around them, and the flutter­ ing flags here aod there on the masts, the busy sai'ors getting in freights. {Sometimes Jim would get a job for'half .an hour, and leave ao lurking among the cottoa bales, or sitting solitary in some safe corner till he came back. He •always came badk. And then sometimes we would linger about there till night- ifall. Then the wharf was solemn and silent, and you could hear the water rusihing up against the great beams un­ derneath, and see here and there a light Saaming from some lone lantern among e shrouds, and the gray water stretch­ ing beyond, we knew not whither; and u Jim and I had owned it all we couldn't have loved it better. But one day Jim got a job that lasted * than ™ual, and I grew scared Biieasy as night came on and he 4ulii t come back. Wandering from the pfeo3 where he had set me, shy and fear­ some as a water rat, but as determined, I looked for him everywhero, but in vmn; then I went back to my post, for badn t he said, as he always said. " Don't be afraid, Jenny; for I'll come back for core, you know." And then I waited and waited, till finally I fell a*leep among the bale3 and barrels, and forgot jnay troubles. in the morning, a forlorn and deso­ lates little creature enoueh, I learned from some compassionate 'longshoremen that the great ship where Jim bad been work had sailed away with him •broad. A wild and passionate burst of weeping greeted this news, and a pitiful throng of people gathered about me, freight men and sailors mostly, but among tliean suddenly appeared the ^qniet face of a Quaker lady, who was dis­ tributing books among the sailors. They told her my tale, and seeing me utterly friendless, she wiped my tear- stained face with her white handker­ chief and took me away. I was no better than a masterless dog, and worth far less. But she took me to a great, •lean, quiet place--an institution they it--wheie there were many others as homeless and wretched as I. And there they washed me and made me so clean and fresh that I thought the real me, the ragged, red-eved, unkempt sur­ plus atom of humanity that had been me, was gone away over seas with Jim, and this rosy-cheeked child was another me, newly come into the world. Then one dav there came a grand and stately lady who tdok me away to live with her and be her own little girl. This lady wore shining silks and lived in a splendid house, and had a lad in a velvet jacket, who was about as big as Jim. It was all like a strange, bright dream, if I vcould have only forgotten Jim. But I oould not. Jim was surplus population no longer; perhaps he was drowned,hislragged jacket and crownless hat might be buried now away down under the sea. JNobody about me now wore patched shoes or trowsers out at the knees, and nobody, it seemed to me, not even Louis, who was so kind and good to me, not even he, had an eye as bright and soft as Jim's, or a hand as warm. And so I never forgot Jim, but always _ in my heart of hearts seemed listening and waiting for him. Sometimes I used to lure .Louis down to the wliar^es, and always when I walked by myself mv steps turned thith­ erward, and thus it was that I never lost sight of the ships, and dimly, faint- ly, unreasonably, looked for the return of Jim. But it began to be years since dear old Jim went away, and Louis was a tall youth home from college, and I was-- well, folks called me a young lady, and said that I would marry Louis someday. And perhaps they might have been right; but how could I be a lady--a real lady, you know--with an old straw hat and a ragged jacket stowed away in my heart ? Even after I grew up I had fits of silent fretting for Jim that seemed as if they would eat my life away. Mrs. Belden said it was because I was growing, and took me away to the seashore. Oh! the seashore! I cannot tell you what I felt when I first saw the sea--the real sea-- stretching away from the white line of shore, throbbing and sounding as it brmmed to the horizon's edge. This was the sea, the glorified sea, no longer grimy and smoky and gray with getting its living, but the sea translated, puri­ fied, made holy as if after death. The days went and came shining and beauti­ ful; and e^ery day I walked on the s&iore with Louis, ran races with the breeze, picked up shells, or gathered seaweed, or watched the sun gilding the sails of some far-flitting ship. Louis' faee was sweet in those days, and kind as sun­ light; and his voice was soft and low when he spoke to me, for he said we were old friends now, and had known each other so many years that we ought to love each other always. One afternoon we strayed farther than usual, and the twilight deepening as we walked, I think we both forgot everything except that we were young and happy, and life was glorious. Love ! The word tdropped warm from his lips, and seemed 0 color all my future with rose tints. All my past seemed sinking out of sight. The gates of paradise were open, and I was free to walk therein if I would. Not for me the barrenness, the disappoint­ ment, that blighted other lives. I might make mine what I would, with wealth and love for my servants, and luxury and joy at my command. Ah, well I re­ member that afternoon by the sea!--the long line of white beach, the overhang­ ing cliffs, the twilight touching the water with a golden glow, and glittering on the tall mists, and the ship lying at anchor beyond. Oh, life was so beauti­ ful !--ob, love was so beautiful! A light­ ness of heart, a capricious intangible, elf-like mood tell upon me, born perhaps of the very overflow ef bliss. I remem­ ber flapping my hands as I skipped along, challenging Louis to a race. Perhaps he had urged me too persistently to respond to his affection, to say when 1 would be his wife. Wife! I wanted to be no one's wife just then, but only to love and to live. Would I answer him ? sighed Leuis. " When you catch me," I responded, mockingly, flitting along the sand. Away I went, with Louis following, breathless. We rounded the curve of the shore, and I was just sinking down upon the sand to wait for him, when an old boat with a broken oar caught my eye ; it lay swinging in the shadow just •srnere a great rock overhung the beach, lightly, thoughtlessly, I stepped into the tiny craft, and waving my handker­ chief laughingly to Louis, caught up my oar and set myself afloat. I scarce­ ly thought what I was doing ; it was a mere caprice born of the lightness of heart and youthful thoughtlessness. But a single glance at Louis' coun­ tenance roused me to the folly I was committing. " Come back I come back!" he cried ; " the current will carry you out of reach in a momentI" Still laughing, I endeavored to obey. Dextrousiy I worked the broken oar, diligently I steadied the frail little ves­ sel ; but all my efforts seemed to bear me further and further from the anxious face tkat was watching me. ** Perhaps if Louis then had plunged into the water, a few strong strokes of his arm might have reached and saved me. I do not know. Louis was no swimmer; and, besides, that was not his way of doing things. His was a deliber­ ate and thoughtfid rather than a rash and venturesome nature. He called to me eagerly that he wa-s going for help; I should wait; I should drop the oar; in a few moments he would get a boat. I saw him hastening along the shore at the top of his speed; I saw the solitary shore, the deserted fisher huts, the far stretches of sand he would have to travel before reaching the little fishing village; I saw it all, but dimly now, for I was floating further and further away. Wearily I dropped the- oar and sank back in the boat.. Surely I need do nothing more. Oh, surely Louis wouLl fia^^e me ! he would not let me die alone in reach of his loving arms f Night was creeping on with twilight on its gar­ ment s hem. I could see that lone and shadowy ship lying at anchor beyond the bar. If only I could reach that ship! But the current would drift me pa3t her in an instant. Wildly and longingly now I called for help, stretching my arms out yearningly toward that silent vessel; but nothing answered me. The shore had grown far and dim, and dimly, strangely the stars coming out with their unfamiliar jU^ ma^e me afraid. Sad, solitary, and deserted, was I going to my death oat of. all that bright afternoon, overflowing love, that fullness of life and pleaaureproffered me? Afraid ? Well, yes, I was afraid ; for one brief moment, as I cowered back into the boat, shrinking in the solitude of the awful waste of waters, a fear of that unknown world into which 1 seemed sailing oppressed me. But I bethought myself if I must die, it were better to die bravely. Perhaps I was going to meet Jim. If he was in that other world, that ought to be a cheery thought. No doubt he died bravely. But was he dead? Jim,my old, staunch friend, whose glad, good face had brightened my wretohed childhood, oh, where was he? It is said in the hours of death the memory of past events is pr«n«tu- rally vivid. And as my mind reverted to those old days, forgetting my latter life, forgetting my later friends, and forget­ ting Louis, I felt sure that I was g^ing to die. A trance of peace fell upon me, in which I seemed to clasp Jim s warm hand again as in days of old. Jim! Jim 1 I called aloud, rousing myself as from a dream, yet dreaming still. But nothing answered me. The darkness was growing deeper, the current more rapid, and Louis, with his soft taper fingers would never reach me now. Unconscious, half delirious, I most have been, perhaps, for it seemed to me that Jim, on whose name I called, was a spirit, and that his presence, somewhere near me, was upholding me In this hour of need as I drifted further and further away from all earthly help. How long, I know not; how far, I know not; it seemed to me 1 had been on the way to eternity, and--. Had I had not heard through that death-dream an answering cry ? Did I or did I not see mistily, as through a vail, the spars and shrouds of that silent vessel that had stood afar off, watching my struggle with death ? And, great God! was it Jim's face--dear old Jim's faee--bending over me, and was this heaven ? " My dear," said Mrs. Belden, coming into my room one morning, "yon are getting quite strong again; the sea air has done you a world of geod--in fact, you look better, I think, than before your accident. I am thinking we may as well return to the citraps soon as you like." f I was lying on a couch by the window looking out upon the sea. "Well," said I, attfeently, in a half reverie." "You feel very strong, do you not, dear?" " Oh yes, ma'm," said I, rousing my­ self; "quite strong--stronger than ever." I was stronger than ever; since that night when Jim saved my life, swim­ ming out to my sinking boat against the current, and risking his life to save an unknown waif, unwitting that it was his nursling of old who was in deadly peril. Since that night a world of new thoughts had come crowding in upon me, scaring me with their strength and making me ashamed of the silken life I was leading. I know not what premonition of change, of banishment, was tugging at my heart that morning as I looked ont over the gleaming waters, and filled my eyes with tears. "You are sorry to leave the sea­ shore ?" said Mrs. Belden. " I was thinking of Jim," said I, hon­ estly. " How can I leave Jim?" Mrs. Belden's face flushed. "Jenny," said she, severely, "of course we all think a deal of your sailor friend for saving your life ; but you must be aware that he is no fit companion for yon, and that his constant attend­ ance upon you since that accident has been a matter of much annoyance both to myself and Louis." At that moment Louis' tall figure ap­ peared at the door, a queer smile was on his pale thin face, as holding ont his long white hand to me, he said, " Jenny, yotir sailor's below." " I have just been telling Jenny," said Mrs. Beldon, " that we must get away from the sea shore to free her from these low associates." Low associates!--Jim, my prince of men, my savior I I see but one course, and yet these two had been so kind to ma all these years, they had made my life so lu*u- lieus and plcasureablo; should I go away from them into the obscurity and poverty of my early life again ? At that moment Jim's sunburned face appeared at the door. He stood with his cap in his hand, eager yet modest, his face alight, his eyes gleaming behind Louis' thin, calm countenance. " I sail the day after to-morrow, Jenny," he said, "and I couldn't risk the chanee of not seeing yotu" Mrs. Beldon made a haughty gesture with her hand, as if she would have ordered off the intruder, " Wait, mother," said Louis, calmly. " Of course Jenny's good sense wiM tell her what in right, and she belongs tome, you know." I saw Jim give a great start. The blood flushed up hotly in his brown cheeks. There was a pause for a moment; then Jim said, passing his hand over his forehead, as if he were not quite clear as to what he heard : " Is it so with thee, my little Jenny? Will my little girl be happy always away from her poor old Jim?" "Poor old Jim." That waa what«I used to call him in my childish days, stroking his hand and comforting him when he was in trouble. Should I desert him now ? For an answer I took frem my finger a glittering ring which Louis had made me wear. I unclasped a costly bracelet he had given me, and drew a gold chain from my neck. I put the shining heap in his hands. "Louis," said I, "I have loved you with these, and perhaps for these; but I loved Jim without them long ago, and I will love him without them the rest of my life. • Forgive me, Louis; I am not fit, as you see, for wealth and splendor; it is natural for me to return to mv kind. Come, let us part in peace." Mrs. Belden rose ; her eyes were like the flaming sword that drove out Adam and Eve from Paradise. She would have spurned us from her presence. But Louis laid his hand calmly upon her shoulder. "Mother," he "Jenny is right." * I have often said to Jim since, as we two are chatting in the cabin of Jim's good ship, "Capt. Jim, Louis was a gentleman s after all, though he wasn't man enough to eave my life."--Har­ per's Weekly, i: DISCOVERY. A Itilarktbla Mammoth Cave In Mary­ land. Several days ago there waa noticed in the columns of the Baltimore Gazette the discovery of a mammoth oave near Cumberland, Md., on the place of Mr. Snyder. A correspondent of the A lie- banian, and Time8 gives once additional particulars of this remarkable discov­ ery. He states that on last Saturday Mr. Albert Powde penetrated the outer oave and secured some very fine speci­ mens of stalactite and stalagmite, with a few fossils. In the afternoon, how­ ever, two young gentlemen of this city, deeply interested in science, made everv preparation to give the cave a thorough invrtjHgfttion, Eownpfid in rubber ooat and high-topped boots, each with a dark lantern, they bade adieu to sunlight and penetrated the mountain depths. Entering the first cavern they threw their bull's eye upon the perpendicular sides, the roof and the bottom, and all reflected back in brilliant colors the rays of light falling upon them. Then commenced the research. Here and there upon the floor were soft qlay and sand-spots, and delving among these they brought to light some very fine specimens of the pre-historic age. We have not seen them, nor do we believe they have exhibited them to any one. Penetrating still further to the rear of the first cavern, they came upon a huge rock which had fallen or been rolled to the mouth of the entrance. To get be­ yond this was impossible without a great­ er force than their muscular efforts could put forth. But placing their lanterns to a crevice they threw the light beyond into the deep recesses of the mountain. Far in the darkness could be seen room after room, apparently divided up regu­ larly, and the rays of the lamp were ra­ diated until the interior looked as if it might be the gilded palace of the genii of old. The young gentlemen were awe- inspired with the solemn grandeur of the dark caverns. The rising pyramids, the apparently carved niches, the glittering doorways, as if studded with diamonds-- all tended to stir up within them a feel­ ing never before experienced. Whilst thus meditating a rumbling sound from the depths within suddenly restored them to consciousness, and being afraid that the mountain would fall in on them, they beat a hasty retreat, wondering what occasioned the noise away back in the depths of the earth. These young gentlemen are not to be deterred from their purpose of seeing what lies hidden within this deep cavern. Mr. Snyder, the proprietor, has promised to have this obstacle at the mouth of the inner cavern removed, and on next Saturday the cave will be open to inspection from its mouth to its subterranean depths, and all parties interested in bringing to light what may be hidden in the depths of the earth are invited to enter without money and without price. How Many Apples Did Adam and Ere Eat ? Some say Eve 8 and Adam 2, a total of 10 only. Now we figure the thing out far differently. Eve 8 and Adam 8 also. Total, 16.--Boston Journal. We think the above figures are entirely wrong. If Eve 8 and Adam 82, cer­ tainly the total will be- 90. Scientific men, however, on the strength of the theory that the antediluvians were a race of giants, and consequently great eaters, reason something like this: Eve 81st and Adam 82. Total, 163.-- Gloucester Advertiser. Wrong again; what could be clearer than if Eve 8 1, and Adam 8-1-2, the total was 893 ?-- Lawrence American. If Eve 8-1-lst, and Adam 8-1-2, would not the whole be 1,623?--Boston Journal. I believe the following to be the true solution : Eve 8-1-4 Adam, Adam 8-1-2-4 Eve. Total, 8,938.-- Veritas. Still another calcula­ tion is as follows : If Eve 8-1-4 Adam, Adam 8-1-2 4-2 oblige Eve; total, 82,056. We think, however, this not to be a suf­ ficient quantity, for though we admit that Eve 8-1-4 Adam ; Adam if he 80-8- 1-2-4-2 keep Eve company, total 8,082,- 066.--New York Mail. Doing the Centennial In One Day. Enthusiastic Philadelphian, speaking to a friend from the rural districts: " Have you been to tike Centennial, and what do'you think of it ?" " ¥es; it's inagmilioenfc; went all through it yesterday and saw every­ thing ; it's a big show." "Then you saw the $80,000 set of diamonds ; beauties, ain't they ?" " Lem'me see ; they are in Machinery hall, ain't they ? Yes, I remember them ; they're very nice, but I ain't much on things of that kind; I like machinery better." "Ah! / Then yon most have been pleased with the immense Corliss en­ gine !" "I don't exactly remember it. Oh, ves I do; it was in the Women's Pavil­ ions. Yes, it's a mighty fime thing." " My friend, 1 guess you and 1 saw things a little differently. Bnt tell me, what do you really :• ogaid as the best thing in the Exposition P* " Well, I think * The Cheese of Paris' is about the best to my notion. "You meaa the * Siege of Paris,' don't you?" " It looked like a cheese to me, and I thought it got its name from that" "Oh, a slight mistake. What else did you aee to admire f " Heaps of things. The five-legged calf, the two-legged horse, the---- " " You have employed your time very profitably, and will be able to tell your friends all about it," interrupted the PhiladelpMan, as be bid his rural friend a hasty good-by. And the man, so the story runa, went back to Bucks county and' told his wondering neighbors how he had done the Exposition in one day. Washington Chronicle. The Late James Lick. The foundation of Mr. Lick's fortune was laid in South America, where he was engaged in the manufacture of pianos. In 1847 he arrived in San Francisco, and, by the judicious purchase of real estate, acquired the immense property which he left on his death. He was never disturbed by the mining excite­ ment of '49, but in the midst of it con­ tinued quietly to buy all the real estate he could get, with a keen eye to the fu­ ture, often paying as much as $20 per day to men who were required to pro­ tect his land from the invasion of squat­ ters, "Lick's Folly"' was a magnifi­ cent flouring-mill, finished in mahogany and other hard-woods. When he became tired of his plaything he gave it to the Tom Paine Society, with whose prin­ ciples he had some sympathy ; but when that body afterward sold it for less than its value, he abjured Tom Paine for­ ever. Lick was not of a social dispo-1 sition. He rarely touched a glass of "sdne, and never indulged in social ex- i cesses of any description. He was arbi­ trary and severe in his dealings with others, and towards the close of his life was full of crotchets and prejudices. He died of paralysis. Philadelphia (Jilt-Edged Batter. Many judges of good butter aver that the best butter that can be found in the United States is made near Philadelphia. But if the same degree of neatness and care be observed in other localities where the cows are supplied with good grass, there will be no difficulty in making the article fully equal to Philadelphia print butter. The milking is done quietly and rapidly, the same milk-maid always attends the same oow. The spring-house is usually of stone, on a side hill, the floor covered with run­ ning water, an i, therefore, always cool and free from odors. Deep tin pane, painted on the outside, with bails fo* handling, are filled to the depth of three inches, placed on an oak floor, sur­ rounded with cool, clear water of a tem­ perature of fifty-eight degrees. The cream is taken off in twenty-four hours, kept in deep vessels holding two gallons, and stirred whenever a new ski Timing is added. A barrel churn is used, the churning lasting an hour, when a little cold milk is added to cause the butter to gather. The buttermilk drawnY>ff, ice cold water is added twice, a few tens given to the churn each time, and the last water is scarcely colored with milk. A gentle rocking of the churn soon collects the butter, which is left two hours to drain off the remain­ ing *ater through a small hole left for the purpose. The butter is worked by a corrugated wooden roller revolving on a shaft, sup­ ported over the center of the table, which also revolves under the roller. The roller does not quite touch the table, so there is no crushing of the particles, but a separation, which permits the water or milk to flow away. A cloth wrung dry in cold spring water is repeatedly pressed upon the butter until not a partiole of moisture is seen upon it as it comes from the roller, and the butter begins to adhere to the cloth. This is called " wiping" the but­ ter. An ounce of salt to three pounds of butter is then thoroughly worked in by the aid of the same machine. It is then weighed in pound prints, deposited in trays and set in water to harden. The next morning it is wrapped in damp cloths, each pound by itself, put in a case upon wooden shelves, with two compartments of pounded ice to keep it cool, and, surrounded by a cedar tub, it is sent to market and sold at $1 per pound.--New York Herald. Overwhelmed by an Avalanche. A fatal disaster happened on the Felik Joch on Aug. 28. Two English gentle­ men, Mr. Hayman and Mr. Johnston, accompanied by two brothers, Ignatze and Franz Sarback, guides of St. Nik- laus, left the chalet of the Cour-de-Lys, at the head of the Gresonay valley, at 5 a. m. on Monday morning, with the in­ tention of traversing the Felik Joch to the Biffel Hotel, on the Zermatt side of the ranges Owing to a fog the party kept too much to the right, but succeed­ ed in almost reaching a ridge east of but a good deal higher than the Felik Joch. Here it was necessary that they should proceed aloug a very steep slope of snow, overhanging an icy wall of great depth, and,, when on it, an avalanche of snow precipitated the whole party down the icy wall. Two of the party--Mr. Hayman and Ignatze Sarback--escaped with their lives, but the other two---Mr. Johnston and Franz Sarback--were buried under the avalanche, and proba­ bly smothered instantaneously, as their companions oonld neither see any traces of them nor get any response to their shouts, although they remained on the spot for sorae hours. Ignatze Sarback managed to make his way out of the avalanche, and succeeded in taking Mr. Hayman over the ridge to the Zermatt side of the Felik Joch, where, exposed to the inclemency of the weather, and totally devoid of provisions, they passed the night on the snow, half an hour be­ low the summit of the Col. Here, at 10 a. m. on the following day a large party, which had started from the Riffel Hotel to make the ascent of Castor, found, Mr, Hayman alr&ost in a state of collause, with both hands frost-bitten,and Ignafcse Sarback, with the use of both hands also gone from the same cause. With great difficulty Mr. Hayman was conveyed to the Riffel Hotel, and although yesterday evening in a very critical state, to-day he is out of danger.--Cor. London Times, A Disappointed Maid. Miss Stokes considers work very un­ ladylike, and kitchen labor "perfectly shocking." But when an industrious and penr4ble young man began to occa­ sionally drop in and spend an evening, she very wisely refrained from express­ ing these convictions, after hearing him on several occasions severely denounce the frivolity and indolence so fashion­ able at present with many of the young ladies of Philadelphia. Entertaining a high regard for the Soung man, fmd determined to surprise im by some great feat of her industry and perseverance, and last evening, as they were seated together cm the parlor sofa, after the conversation had began to flag, she artfully allowed a sigh to escape her. "Are you unwell?" be tenderly in­ quired. " No, I am quite well." " But yon sighed," he persisted. " Yes; but I suppose it was because I felt so tired." " Haye you been busy ? "Oh! yes, indeed," was the reply. "Why, would you believe it? I cut out n. towel and made it all by myself to-day." There has been a coolness between the parties ever since, the reason of which he has never been fully able to explain, but she angrily remarked the next morn­ ing that some men were foolish enough to imagine that a woman ought to do more work than a fifty-horse power steam engine. THERE are one-fourth more blondes than brunettes. A V*RY OLD SONG. , 5<tla.07f!W| '"n met And Bill OriniN, tbe d»Ter, , "Y1 PpPP'd the question to me, ma, *^*1 ® •« to be my lorer; ' coming here quite eitijr. . To.uke » Pfcwwnt iralk with me, ^•Cf ? Aoroe* the field of barley." " n o t R « n t i e dear, Here'i no um now a-talklmr • • Yon thai! not go *cro.« tli«> «Lty With Hilly Orlmea a-walking TothiRk of his preemption, to! The dirty, ugly drover. I woiitifcf where your pslde hu To think of such t lover !" * Old Grimes la dead, yon know. And Billy is go lonely ! Betides, they say, to Grimes' . That silly in the only Surviving heir to all that's Itft: And that, they say, is nearly A good ten thousand dollars, oMh-- And six hundred yearly !" " I did not hear, my'daughter tab Tour last remark quite cleutr. But Billy is a clever lad, And no doubt loves yon dearly; Bemcmber^hen, to-morrow 111 w To be up bright and early, To take a pleapaat walk with hla Across the field of barley I" --fit. Louis Timet. Pith and Point. Music for the dinner table--" When the swallows homeward fly."--Gmnmqr- cial Bulletin. AN Iowa Judge says that a man may legally kiss bii hired girl if he can swear he thought it was his wife. " Do YOU like oodfish balls, Mr, Wig­ gins I" Mr. Wiggins (hesitatingly)-- " I really don't know; I don't reoolleot attending one." JONES, who is an incorrigible bach­ elor, says he has decided to wait till hm is old, and then have a golden wedding. He always wanted to pluok the rese with­ out the thorn. A BOY has written a composition on the turtle, in which he says: " A turtle is not »o frisky as a man, but he can stand a hot coal on his bmxk longer with­ out squalling." NOBWICH Bulletin: ** A little 6-year- old daughter of one of our eititaene yes­ terday expressed her knowledge of where the rain came from by telling her mother that 'Jesus had turned the favoet and let all the water out.'" A MAN may love domestic quiet and harmony enough to keep his mouth shot while his wife's relations are in the house, but when he sees one of his fine ruffled shirts on his brother-in-law, what wonder if he feels that he must go down in the cellar and shovel coal or bust. THE first step toward making a man of your son is to train him to earn what he spends ; then the best way to teach him to be frugal is to take away his money as fast as he earns it, and spend it wisely for yourself. There is nothing like teaching the young by example. -- Burlington Hawk-Eye. NOTHING makes a young man so happy as to get around to the Postoffice after it is closed, and see a letter in his box ; to have his heart whisper that it is from her, to dream sweet and tender fancies* hallowed with love's sacredness, all night, and to come down in the morn­ ing and find it a bill of $7.50 for his last year's underclothes.--Norwich Bul­ letin. NOT long ago the heathen in China made a sudden and remarkable demand for copies of the Bible. The mission­ aries were delighted; a great work was about to be accomplished. Somehow the converts didn't come up to the altar. Upon investigation it was found that the Bibles had been applied to the coring of another kind of sole altogether-- paper soles for shoes. AN English visitor to the Centennial wandered into a cheap restaurant in Shanty Town and ordered a steak. After desperate efforts to overcome its tough­ ness he next asked for a napkin. The landlord came out from the kitohen in his shirt sleeves and addressed the as­ tonished guest in indignant terms: "Sa-ay, young feller, this ain't no Con- tiii&ntal. The next thing youll be want­ ing, I suppose, is a grand pianer." Is A MAN WHO cuts his uncle's wife an ignore aunt fellow ? Are faaadouffs in­ dispensable for the safety of two-wrists f Is a policeman allowed a long drop or knot in the execution ®f his duty? When a man oriers a pair of t-r-o-s-r-a off a certain roll of stuff, does he incite bis tailor to breeches of the piece f Ought a heavy cloud to be considered in connection with the bearing rain? Are the Servian overtures for mediation acts of Parley ment f WHICH I eould crack a nut With, say molars in my jaws, With teeth all white and steadfast < And innocent of flaws, I laughed at angry Fortune, Made ligSit of coming Borrow, Was happy all to-day, And careless of to-morrow.) I trusted men and women, And women best, maybe!-- Oh. pleasant was that Spring Mat To my teeth and me I But BOW, when teeth are shskr, And going one by one, I find, like Israel's monarch. Small good beneath the ns. X cannot crack a nut, I cannot find a truth, Or man or lovely woman, Like those I found in youth. Put back, oh cruel Fortune, Thy sword into its shestn, Let me believe in something, And contradict my teeth 1 A JUDGB WHO WON'T SHKTBNOH Mmr TO B* HANGED ON FBIDAY.™The fact that the negro Williams, whom sentenoe was commuted by Gov. BrogdLe% was to have been hanged Sateday, at Tarboro, calls to mind the fact that Judge Moore, who presides on that circuit, never sen­ tences a man to be hanged on Friday. He is disgusted with the old supersti­ tion w hich calls Friday an unlucky day, and in stopping the hanging of men in his circuit on that day is doing what he can to break up the superstition, which is as senseless as it is old.--Raleigh (N. C.) News. A PRINTER named Humphreys took off the first prize at the type-setting tourna­ ment in Montreal, Canada. He is a compositor on the Montreal Star, and, according to which paper, 4 4 slings up " a " stickful" of type from editorial copy in twelve minutes and fifteen seconds. The type, passing from the "case "to the "stick," looks like a visitation of grasshoppers or a storm of shingle-nails firing at a mark. SOMETIMES it doesn't pay to deed all your property to your wife, in order that you may not be responsible for debts. A New York wife with $100,000 in her name has taken it over to another rtn>n( leaving her husband imprisoned on some trivial charge for the want of $3,000 baiL