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'{•IV- -Jm- »ii« UtU-.' - . mi fcifc VTS PW! ji-a> M-iM i*»v • , b'̂ •ftu-u 1 For Ttaafeaglvliic day Is wdoom6Q fcfcswt-wsnntag, glorious, gonial ****><*, r, When the feelings, nprrsxed Jt By traffic's bato* - a»e day at least, for dominion ornM ^lei atarlvft, M of old, to be spedblly bMt «Mto «are is a species of tresxion. shuts up its shop for the day, andyoongestplayorpray; open in the ancient 8ft. &4T »1 m* ni • if1 pi'ti "'^r. m* r° •>«•< Mi S .• a*/.* rt*, • r ffcftol* «h»<*o •tor preachers to ntter whatever tiwy i «i few to listen to what thry say, Wfcfle all the chaises and carriages dashing around * i'ut Mi; ir aserry iMtfv Of babies drensrd in their prettiest modes, Tto dump at the doors of kindred abode*** <w oiled with those still happier nodes #|» rush to try that beat of codes P. AM Which binds or op in marriages. v«%4, , home in the stall, the dog at the door, JEe loved and caressed and kissed onoe more, . And smile* are joyously beaming, ... •• Mtmd the pullets, destined for them 1 fltaok on the scene wl;h a cheerful eye. ̂ l~I*«ympathetifi seeming. !}«, "Vhe land is vocal with psalm and fnyltj^ - -i£a4 Joy*® (- - • lad note sounds eve rywher^V^ ; a iestival oblation, . • Jusd savory stream* like clouds arise, A *> ttakto the palate and glad the eyes •• <^*e»ofvl̂ Mdpnj ̂ - t A , v mmra m and gay, and dull and' LUU-i. , 7""' >- 7p»y tribute to gustation. i#,- X *" ">' ' ,(}'•* 6 i. y? • « 1>M* ij it VII |s€^4d.f .1$ • tOX'S THAKKStflTI A Story for the Heaion. j,* f . , : • <**lt was very provoking that seam- •ttamee and each people would get mar­ ried, like the rest of the world," Mrs. Greenough said, half in fan and half in eeroeet. Her fall sewing was just com- on, a»d here was Lizzie Brown, who ^2* bu suited her so nicely, going off to be *"*" Mrtied, and she had no resource but to advertise, and take whomsoever she Mvld get. No less than ten women had liMn. there that day, and not one would >i " There oomes number eleven; yw îU nee," she cried, as the bell rang. ̂ ;« <Kittj Greenough looksd on with in- fgnst, Indeed, *it was her gowns, rather her mother's, that were most pr^ss- w She was just 16, and since last -Winter she had shot up suddenly, as girls aftffaat age so often do, and left all her 4k4bea behind her. Mrs. Greenongh was right--it was «riother seamstress, and Bridget showed Ik a plaia sad-looking woman of about 40, with an air of intense respectobility. Mm. Gbreenough explained what she wanted done, and the woman said quiet­ ly that she was accastomed to such Work--would Mrs. Greenough be so kind «M to look at some recommendations ? "Whereupon she handed out several lady­ like looting notes, whose writers in- domed the bearer, Mrs. Margaret Gra­ ss faithful and capable, used trimmings of all sorts, and quick to «rtch an idea. *' Very well indeed," Mrs. Greenough •till,, as she finished reading them; " I -ooold ask nothing better. Can you be 71i Hi %*jf i .n«i- ' $ t? fi-:'; ' m • J -* • u ••*•$** ;i; M U-.c- ,%* 1- m ' ifteifJ i&inX •if I #1 jnady to come at onoe?' *'To-morrow, if you wish, madam," the answer, and then Mis. Graham fWMit away. Kitty Greenough -was an impulsive, imaginative girl; no subject was too dull 4K too unpromising for her fancy to ^fcmeh it. She made a story for herself about every new person wlio came in her way. After nnmber eleven had gone •4own stairs, Kitty laughed. "Isn't shea sobersides, mamma? I i't believe there will be any frisk y dresses at all if she trims them." 44 There'll be frisk enough in them if wear them," her mother answered, ung at the bright, saucy, winsome ?lKe of her one tall daughter. Kitty was ready to turn the conversa- k> «•«*« . At* u M ir " What do you think she is, mamma-- wife or widow V And then answering )Mr own question: " I think she's mar- lied, and he's sick and she has to take i of him. That solemn, still way she comes of much staying in a sick- She's in the habit of keeping don't you see ? I wish she wefe a little prettier; I think he would get •Weir quicker,-" *' Tbere'd be no plain, quiet people in jwn? world if you made one," her mother .'"sald^ emiliag; "Lat youM laakeamis-' take to leave them out.1 You would get f-lj^ad even of the sun if it shone all the ;/iitem." TLe next day the new seamstress came, •ttd a thoroughly good one she proved; * "Jfeetfcpr even than Lizasie, Mrs, ^Cteeenough sai3, and this wax high jjpratge. She sewed steadily^ and never •opened her lips except to ask some ques­ tion about her wort Even, Kitty, who weed to boast that she could make a dumb man talk, had not audacity enough fe intrude on the reserve in which Mis. Araiham intrenched herself. worse this morning," whispered , "WPwcy Kitty to her mother; "and she am do nothing but thmt about him and Wund her gathers." But, by the same token, "he" must Awe been worse every day, for dnring 4he two weeks she sewed there Mrs. *0nthaxn never spoke of anything beyond t|MBT work, When Mrs. Greenough fr*d paid her, night, she said: 'Pleaee give me your address, Mrs. for I may want to find you "Seventeen Hudson street, ma'am; WP two flights of stairs; and, if I'm not fT SeftafSBTtfU joar Kitty 4aried, exultingly, after the woman had 8. " Didn't I tell you that he was ? You see, now, 'Tom's always , ' S mhr: mu ' • • Yes; hut Tom may pot be her hus- 1« and I don't rami he is. He is amah more likely to be her child." "Mrs. Gbaenough, I'm astonished at won, You say that to be contradictious, llow, it is not nice to be contradictious; liesides, she wouldn't look so quiet and *adif Tom were only her boy." But Teeks passed on, and nothing wm heard of Mrs. Graham, until at last Thanksgiving day was near at IttacL Kitty was to have a new dress, «ad Mrs. Greenough, who had under­ taken to finish it, found that she had ' time. Oh, let me go for Mrs. Graham, cried Kitty, eagerly. " Luke drive me down to Hudson street, and 11 shall see Tom." v- -J** Greenough laughed and consent* #Tf P In a few minutes Luke had brought "it, ' the doer the one-horse coupe, which '1%' lwtf been the last year's Christmas gift of T. ;-4 'it Papa Greenough to his wife, and in wluch Miss Kitty was always glad to make an excuse forgoing out. Arrived at 17 Hudson street, she ripped np two flights of stalls, and apped at a door, on which was a printed Ow*d witih the name at Mrs. Graham. A voioe, with a wonderful quality of musical sweetaiess in it, answered: M Please to come in,; I cannot epen the If that wpte ^"he had » very wngular voî e fo? a man. " I guess mamma was right after all," (bought willful Kitty. " It's rather cu­ rious how often mamma is right, when X come to think of it." She opened the door, and saw, not Mrs. Graham's husband, nor yet hei son, but a girl, whose face looked as if she Bright be about Kitty's own age, whose shoulders and waist told the same story; but whose lower limbs seemed curiously misshapen and shrunken--no larger, in fact, than those of a mere child. The lace was a pretty, winning faoe, not at *11 sad. Short, thick brown hair curled round it, and big,jMOwn eyes, full of good-humor, met Kitty 's curious glance, "Jam Tom," the same musical voice --which made Kitty think of a bird's war­ ble--said, in atone of explanation* "I can't get up to open the door because, don't you see, I can't walk." "And why--what--Tom----" Kitty struggled desperately with the question she had begun to ask, and Tom kindly helped her out " why am I Tom, do you mean, when it's a boy's name; or why can't I walk f I'm Tom because my father called me Tomasina, after his mother, and we can't afford such long names in this house; and I can't walk because I pulled a ket­ tle of boiling water over on myself when I was 6 years old, and the only wonder is that I'm alive at all. I was left, you gee, in a room by myself, while mother was busy somewhere else, and when she heard me scream, and came to me, she pulled me out from under the kettle, and saved the upper half of me all right." " Oh, how dreadful I" Kitty cried, with the quick tears rushing to her eyes. "It must have almost killed your mother." "Yes; that's what makes her so still and sober. She never laughs, but she never frets either; and oh! how good she is to me." Kitty glanced around the room, which seemed to her so bare. It was spotless­ ly clean, and Tom's chair was soft and comfortable--as, indeed, a chair ought to be which must be sat in from morning till night. Opposite to it were a few pictures on the wall--engravings taken from books and magazines, and given, probably, to Mrs. Graham by some of her lady customers. Within easy reach was a little stand, on which stood a rose-bush in a pot, and a basket full of of bright-colored worsteds, while a book or two laid beside them. "And do you never go out?" cried Kitty, forgetting her errand in her sym­ pathy, forgetting, too, that Luke and his impatient horse were waiting below. " Not lately. Mother used to take me down into the street sometimes; but I'm not very dull, even when she's gone. You wouldn't guess now many things I see from my window; and then I make worsted mats and tidies, and mother sells them; and then I sing." Kitty stepped to the window to see what range of vision it offered, and her eye fell on Luke. She recalled her bus­ iness. " I came to see if I could get your mother to sew two or three days for me! this week." Tom was alert and business-like at once. "Let me see," she said; " to-day is Tuesday," and she drew toward her a little book, and looked it over. " To­ morrow is engaged, but you could have Thursday, Friday and Saturday, if you want so much. Please write your name against them." Kitty {>ulled off her' pretty gray glove and wrote her name and address with the little toy-pencil at the end of her chatelaine; and then she turned to go, but it was Tom's turn to question. "Please," said the sweet, fresh voice, Tvhicli seemed so like the clear carol of a bird, " would you mind telling me how old you are? I'm 16 myself. And so am 116," scud Kitty. And you have a father and mother both, haven't you?" " Yes indeed," said Kitty. "Oh, I've only mother, but she is good as two. Must you go, now? And I wonder if I shall ever see you again?" Yes, you will see me again," answered Kitty, cheerily; and then, moved by a sudden impulse of her kind, frank young heart, she bent over and touched her lips to the bright, bonny face of the poor girl who must sit prisoner there forever, and yet who kept this bright cheerfulness all the time. Oh, mamma, I've had a lesson," cried Kitty, bursting into her mother's room like a fresh wind, " and Tom has taught it to me; and he isn't he at all--she's a girl just my age, and she can't walk not ft step since she was years old." And then Kitty told all the sad, tender little story, and got to crying over it her­ self, and made her mother cry, too, be­ fore she got through. After dinner she sat half the evening in a brown study. Finally she came out of it, and began talking in her usual impulsive manner. " Can't we have them here to Thanks­ giving, mamma? There's not a single pretty thing in that house except Tom, herself, and the rosebush; and svery thing did look so bare, and clean, and poverty- stricken; and I know they'll never afford a good dinner in the world. Oh, say yes, mamma, dear. I know you'll say yes, because you're such a dear, and you love to make every one happy." " Yes; but first of all, I must love to to make papa happy, must I not? Yon know he never w<u*ts any company on Thanksgiving but grandpa, and grand­ ma, and Uncle John. I'm sure vou would not like to spoil papa's old-fashioned Thanksgiving day," Kitty's countenance fell. She saw the justice of her mother's remark, and there was no more to be said. She sat think ing over her disappointment in a silence which her mother was the one to break. " I've thought of a better thing, Fuse," said this wise mamma, who was herself every bit as tender of heart as Kitty, and eared just as much about making people happy. " No doubt Mrs, Graham and Tom would just as much prefer being alone together as papa pre­ fers to be afaft* with Ms fsmily; and how will it suityouif I have a nice din­ ner prepared for than, and let yon go and take it to them In the coupe ? Mrs. Graham is harder the woman one could take such a liberty with; but I'll beg her to let you have the pleasure of sending dinnerto Tom." " Oh, you darling 1" and Mrs. Greea- ough's neck-ruffle suffered, and her hair was in danger, as was apt to be the case when Kitty waa overcome with emotion, which could only find vent in a rapturous squeeae. Before bed-time Kitty had it all planned out. She was to go in the coupe and take Bridget and the basket. Bridget was to mount guard by the horse's head while Luke went up stairs with Kitty and brought down Tom for a drive; and while they were gone Bridget would take the basket in and see that everything was right, and then go home. Mrs. Greenough consented to it all. I think she enjoyed the prospect of Tom's ride herself, just as much as Kitty did. While Mrs. Graham was sewing there she made the arrangement with her, approaching the subject so deli­ cately that the most sensitive of women could Hot be hurt, and putting the ac­ ceptance of both drive and dinner in the light of a personal favor to Kitty, who had taken such a fadcy to Tom. The last afternoon of Mrs. Graham's stay Kitty called her mother into her room. Mrs. Graham saw spread out upon the bed a thick, warm, soft jacket, a woolen dress, a last year's hat. "You know them by sight, don't you, mother, mine ? They are the last winter's olothes that I grew away from, and have taken leave of. May Tom have them ?" " Yes, indeed, if you'll undertake to give them to Tom's mother." Kitty had seldom undertaken a more eirbarrassing task. She stole into the sewing-room with the things in her arms. " You'll be sure, won't you, Mrs. Gra­ ham, not to let Tom know she's going to ride until I get there, because, I want to see how surprised she'll look." "Yes, I'll be rare, never fear." "And, Mrs. Graham, here are my coat and hat and dress that I wore last year, and I've grown away from them. Would you mind letting Tom wear them?" -" Would I mind?" A swift, hot rush of tears filled Mrs. Graham's eyes, which presently she wiped away, and somehow then the' ©yes looked gladder than Kitty had ever seen them before. "Do you think I am so weakly, wickedly proud as to be hurt because you take an interest in my poor girl, and want to put a .little happiness into her life--that still, sad life which she bears so patiently ? God bless you, Miss Kitty; and if He doesn't it won't be because I shall get tired of asking Him." " And you'll not let her see the hat and jacket till I oome4 think something ?" At last Mrs. Graham smiled--an actu­ al smile. How you do think of everything. No, I'll keep the hat and jacket out of sight, and I'll have the dress on her, all ready." When Thanksgiving came Kitty soarcely remembered to put on the new apren that Mrs. Graham had finished with such care; scarcely gave a thought to the family festivities at home, so ea­ ger was she about Tom's Thanksgiving. She was to go to Hudson street just at noon, so that Tom might have the ben­ efit of the utmost warmth of which the chill November was capable. First she saw the dinner packed. There was a turkey, and cranberry sauce, and mince-pie, and plum-pudding, and a great cake full of plums, too, and fruit, and nuta, and then Mr. Greenough, who had heard about the dinner with real interest, brought out a bottle of par- tioularly-nioe sherry, and said to his wife: " Put that in also. It will do those frozen-up souls good once in the year." At last impatient Kitty was off. Bridget and the basket filled all the spare space in the coupe, and, when they reached Hudson street, Luke took the dinner and followed Kitty up stairs, while Bridget stood by the horse's head, according to the programme. He set the basket down in the hall, where no one would be likely to notice it in opening the door, and then he stood out of sight himself, while Kitty went in. There was Tom, in the warm crimson thibet--a proud, happy-looking Tom as you oould find in Boston that Thanks­ giving day. " I have come to take you to ride," cried eager Kitty% " Will you go ?" It was worth ten ordinary Thanksgiv­ ings to see the look on Tom's face---the joy and wonder, and then the doubt, as the breathless question came: " How will I get down stain?" And then Luke was called in, and that mystery was solved. And then out of a closet came the warm jacket, and the hat, with its gay feather; and there were tears in Tom's eyes, and smiles round her lips, and she tried to say something, and broke down utterly. And then big, strong Luke took her up as if she were a baby, and marched down stairs with her, while she heard Kitty say--but it all seemed to her like a dream, and Kitty's voice like a voioe in a dream: " I'm sorry there's nothing pretty to see at this time of year, It was so lovely out doors six weeks ago." Through Besush street they went, and then through Boylston, and the Common was beside them, with its tree-boughs traced against the November sky, and the sun shone on the Frog pond, and the dome of the State House glittered gold- enly, and there were merry people walk­ ing about with their Thanksgiving faces on; and at last Tom breathed a long, deep breath which was almost a sob, and cried: "Did you think there was nothing pretty to see to-day--this day ? Why, I didn't know there was such a world !" The clocks had struck 12 when they left Hudson street; the bells were ring­ ing for 1 when they entered it again. Bridget was gone, but a good-natured boy stood by the horse's head, and Kitty ran lightly up stairs, followed by Luke, with Tom in nis arms. Kitty threw open the door, and there was a table spread with as good a Thanks­ giving dinner as the heart oould desire, with Tom's chair drawn up beside it. Luke set his light burden down. Kitty waited to hear neither thanks nor exclamations, She saw Tom's brown eyes as they rested on the table, and that was enough. She bent for one moment over file bright face--the cheeks which the out-door air had painted red as the rose that had just opened in honor of the day--and left on the young, sweet, wistful hps a kiss, and then went silent­ ly down the stairs, leaving Tom and Tom's mother to their Thanksgiving. The Texas Steer. The Texas steer is armed with at one end and heels at the other end, and when he swings himself in a circle heels and horns, horns and heels, are promiscuously distributed. When unmolested he is docile, but at­ tempt to corner him. and you wrn be re­ minded of the'nature of the beast. When on a rampage, he tusks no favsrs, and grants.none. Small boys and patri­ archs then stand an equal show, if they stand at all in his neighborhood. When the Texas steer gets on a bender, those in the direction in which he wanes to go will be reminded of then- latter end and his former end if they do not give him a wide berth. A sky-rocket of five hundred horse power, shot hori­ zontally, would have to "hump" itself to keep out of the steer's way on such an occasion. Such things as walls and fences are not noticed at a time like this, and even a bull in a china shop would be thrashed in a twinkling should he at­ tract the attention of our steer while the bender is under him. The Texas steer is called a steer because he steers straight when mad regardless of obstructions. He would not be a Texas steer if he didn't. You put a Texas steer in the center of Rhode Island (or, rather, let him place himself there, if you have any regard for safety), and at one leap he can clear the boundary in any given di­ rection. He could almost do the same %hing in New Jersey, for he is unaccus­ tomed to States of that size. When he takes a notion to leap, there is no use of bridges. He spreads consternation among other animals when he spreads himself, and then the spread becomes mutual. He can keep seven small boys and one washerwoman, with all her equipments, flying in the air at one and the same time, and then find time to look for other game. His resources, like his leapings, are boundless. He obeys no halter but the lasso, and not even .that while the breath uf life is in him. The word "subdue" is not in his dictionary. The Texas steer doth his own steering in a gale, and the more you lash his helm the more rapidly he steers; but with all his steering, he never aiw to steer clear of difficulties. His tail straightens As lite speed in- creaseth, and when hiM "wrinkles and curls are horizontal to the bone, his speed is wonderful to behold. He can outrun a dozen Presidential for fear ahe'll j can '̂̂ ates and then have run enough left to last a short tour of three days. Run ! why run is no name for his speed. Lightning cau't zigzag and keep up with him. There is so much run in him that when his skin is tanned and worked into shoes they invariably run down at the heel. He can run down faster than an/ spendthrift can run them up. But Let us steer dear of the Texas steer When he is inclined to run, Unless we are balls ont of a gun And he is far in the rear. The New Senator from IndlMUU Daniel Voorhees is a native of Ohio, born in Butler county in September, 1827. His parents settled in Fountain county, Ind., about ten miles from the town of Covington. Here he lived his early years a farmer's boy, and, at the age of 18, entered Asbury College at Greencastle, where he was graduated with honor in 1849. He studied law in Orawfordsville and began practice there in 1852. It will thus be seen that Mr. Voorhees is entirely a " Hoosier" pro­ duction in early college education, and in<the later one of law, and it is in State practice and State politics that he has made his reputation. At the age of 26, he was commissioned Prosecuting At­ torney by Gov. Wright, and, three years latter, in 1856, was a candidate for Con­ gress, and was defeated by James Wil­ son. In 1857 he moved to Terre Haute, where he has since made his home. In 1859 he was employed by Gov. Wiilard to defend Cook, one of the John ilrown raiders, and gained considerable reputa­ tion by Ms brilliant oratory. In 1860 he was elected fto Oongrests from that dis­ trict, elected again in 1862, and defeated in 1864 for a contested seat by H. D. Washburne. In 1868 he was again sent to Congress, re-elected in 1870, and again defeated in 1872, this time by Morton C. Hunter. He was a candidate for the Senate in 1875-'76, but gave way to Joseph, E. McDonald before the nomi­ nation was made. He engineered the last political campaign in Indiana, was the right-hand man of Gov. Williams during the contest, and meets a reward for his political services by this appoint­ ment to serve the remainder of Senator Morton's term, which expires in 1879. He is the most popular of the Demo­ cratic leaders in the State among the masses of his party.--Chicago Timet. Christopher Columbus Not ft Saint. The Vatican has decided not to make Columbus a saint, because he never was one. That is the sense of the opinion expressed by the congregations. They base their refusal to beatify him on the grounds that his Christian virtues have not been exemplified by any great deed; that, apart from his discovery of Amer­ ica, his public and private life were open to grave reproach; that, £ntil now, no­ body ever thought of regarding him as a saint or invoking iiim as such; and, final­ ly, that it is very doubtful whether he died a good Catholic. M. l'Abbe Cado- net has thus written his thick volume advocating the canonization of the great discoverer in vain.--London Examiner. A Peaceable Forrest, the rebel cavalry chieftain, never acknowledged himself to have been placed " in a bad fix " except onoe, which was in' the city of Memphis. Gen. Chalmers and s merchant in Mem­ phis, named J. C. Davis, had some small disagreement about money matters. I think that Chalmers owned some prop­ erty rented to relatives of Davis, and wrote a sharp business note to them about the rent. Davis replied by a very fierce note, which inspired Chalmers with a strong desire to "go and see him." On the way to see Davis Chalmers met Gen, Forrest, and asked the Oeueral to go there along with him. Forrest went, ignorant of the real state of affairs. Scarcely had the two Generals arrived at the head of the stairs leading to Davis' business office, when the door was sud? denly finng open, and Davis knocked Chalmers from the top of the stairs to the bottom. The next instant he pre­ sented a heavy revolver at Forrest's head, explaining, " And this is what I've got for you--two Confederate Generals coming to whip one man |" "Hold on! hold on, Mr. Davis!" cried Forrest; ** there's some mistake here! i don't want any fuss with you-- don't know what all this is about. Gen. Chalmers asked me to oome along with ^"m» I didn't know there was any trouble between y<*a/' He was glad to get away, and began to inquire what sort of a man that J 0. Davis was. Folks told him Davis was one of the moat quiet, peaceable men in town. "Well, he may be peaceable," returned Forrest, " but he put me in the tightest place I was ever in in my life." Yet he never showed any ill-will to Da­ vis afterward, evidently admiring his pluck.--Oineinnpti Oommerei^L, i .- f 'j"" HAD DREAMS DID IT.̂ Singular Confession of Ift ArkSMii Murderer. Tom Staner, who was recently hung at Benton, Ark., for the murder of his aunt, Mrs. Mack Staner, and Mrs. P. Taylor, mode the following curious con­ fession: The first desire I had to commit crime came from a dream which I had at John Curtis' some time last year. The dream continued to haunt me. About the 18th of January last another dream came to me. The nature of these dreams was that I had killed two persons,, and had se­ cured a large sum of money. Something with­ in me kept urging me to kill some one and rob them of money. These dreams, and the bad thought* they suggested, gave me BO much trouble that I oould not work, nor could I be contented. In fact, I was very miserable. Finally, after these dreams had wrought me lip to such a pitch I could not resist the inclina­ tion to rob, or attempt to rob, 1 went one Bun- day to the house of Moses Eads to get his money. I did not intend to kill him, or any of hie family, but expected that they would be at church, and that I could get the money without interruption. Some of the family were at home, however. I got nothing ; whereupon I left, inwardly asking myself, "For what pur­ pose am I here?" Shortly afterward I went to the residence of Mr. William Gentry for the purpose of getting his money by robberv, but in this instance the family were also at heme, and I got nothing. The night previous to the commission of the murder of Mrs. Staner and Mrs. Taylor I stayed at the residence of Mr. William Gentry, and did not go near the house of Uncle Mack Staner. Next morning I went to the house of Mrs, Gentry, where I was mak­ ing my home. Mrs. Gentry did not go back with me, as Martha Gentry was unwell, and asked her to remain with her. As I was going home it occurred to me that I could get money by going to the house of Uncle Maok Staner. As soon as I had done some little necessary work about the house I went to Uncle Mack's, keeping well in the woods to avoid observation. When I got to the house I found Aunt Harriet jStaner at the woodpile picking up chips, while Mrs. Taylor was sitting inside the east gate knitting. Aunt Harriet asked me in the house. I went in with the two women and took a seat. They talked to me about marrying the Widow Gentry, and endeavored to have some fun out of me on the'subject. They then got up, went to a table in another part of the room, and commenced to clean hogs' heads and feet. Some­ thing within me urged me to kill them both. I took up the iron poker, carried it slyly fey my side, and walked up to them, but my heart failed me. Three times I was urged by some monster to kill them, and the same number of times my conscience revolted against the deed, and I finally walked back to the fire-place and put the poker down, without either of the women observing my actions. Just then Mis. Taylor, who lived but a short distance from Uncle Mack's, discovered her calf to be out, and she went down to put him in the lot. While she was gone the feeling to kill came strong upon me, and I took the poker, walked up to Aunt Harriet, and struck her two blows with it, which I thought sufficient to kill her. I waited for Mrs. Taylor, intending to kill her, in order to hide the crime of the first murder. She came in a short time, and, seeing Aunt Harriet on the floor, she said, "La, Tommy, what is the matter with Mrs. Staner?" I re­ plied, "I do not know," and, as she was going up to the body, I struck her on the head with the poker, killing her, I suppose, as that was my intention. I then went to Aunt Harriet, got the keys out of her pocket, rifled a trunk of a pocket-book containing money, and left the place. The evil feelings had gained greatly upon me, and it was my intention, had I been ac­ quitted of the charge and secured my liberty, to have burned the Benton Court House and jail, and also bum Hot Springs. 1 had also determined to lay for M. L. Dale, Ooot Ehei and W. S. Bhea, and kill them on the sly: I had hut little or nothing against them. I had also intended to burn the houaes, .cribs and stables and kill the holies of Moses Eads, Amos Gentry and John Curtis ; it was also my inten­ tion to kip Hugh Taylor and his son ; it was then my intention to murder and rob men and ravish women as long as I could evade detec­ tion, of whicl^ however, I had no fear, as. death appeared to have no terror for me. After I had fully enjoyed myself it was my intention to join the Masons and the church. 1 had en­ deavored to be good, and had prayed for a change of heart, I quit swearing, and I be­ lieve if these dreams had not so oppressed md, and had I lived with my uncle, kept out of baa company, and obeyed the religious teachings, I would have done well, and not have become a murderer. T. P. BTANKB. Condition of the Treasury as Compared with Nov. 1,1876. The following is a comparison of the condition of the United States treasury Nov. 1,1876, and Nov. 1, 1877: Balance*. Currency J Special fund for the re­ demption of f no­ tional eurroncy Special deposit of legtl tenders for redemp­ tion of certificates of deposit Coin Coin certificates. Coin, less coin certifi­ cates Outstanding ailed boude.. Other outstanding coin liabilities Outstanding legal teu- dci'ri uta tan ding fractional currency., Ontetandiag sUinr coin Total debt, less cash in treasury... ..... Reduction 6f debt for October Seduction of debt nine*' July l Market value of gold.. Imports (12 months ending Sept. 3G) ® Exports (12 months ending Sept. SO).... 12,901^91 40,670,000 76,987,097 33,283,100 43,063,927 1,692,900 5,146,889 887,635,710 38,565,478 91,913,408 9^88,878,486 3,888,139 10,580,?08 109 1877. $15,950,889 9,444,569 37,620,000 181,092,813 38,543,200 97,479,643 98,990,900 4,864,414 364,492,899 18,362,574 36,851,850 3,047,350,700 4,938,554 13,807,522 102 wr- - • 435,497,270 468,181,788 619,173^50 867,403,577 AN effort is being made by a London publisher to compete with the cheap, unwholesome literature of the day by the republication of good, healthy books at a cheap price. One of these, Bun- yan's " Pilgrim's Progress," has already appeared, and may be obtained com­ plete for one penny. The book is in pamphlet form, and consists of 64 pages, fairly printed, and with numerous wood­ cuts, which, if not highly finished, are quaintly suggestive. setting snn, with dying beast «ad waked thepurple taffi toTfiti, And dtedsl and doms andeptr* W«regildfld by the far-off gleam; Aad to and oat dark ptee trees ernt, Hne otaoia: riWrwrapt, A iffi. J» ** it onward rolls*; "S,11??* 1ta«*red, toth to go, '̂ wdMtcaasetli sorrow *3) team ttos6 we love bstowit Aad yet the snn as bright To-morrow.' Xfca tide ebbing on tke ApdstooplagiowttasU**». ^Thecrinwoo seawasdlay at Upon the amber-ribbed sand: Dished o'er the rocks and on the ShoM KnwtP»ttag wreaths of peaHyspra; Mien Sea away; yet toned onoe more And sent a right across the bay,J As though it could not bear to Ah! It oanseth sorrow * To part with those we love bekn£ Yet thitherward the tide ehali floStjj To-morrow. . nro hearts had met to say farswol At even when the snn went do*n;T" Each life-sound from the bnsy town Smote sadly as a passing bell. One whispered: "Parting la tweet At morn and eve returns the tide; , *' Kay! parting rends the heart in twain,' And sUll they linger side by skis. And still they finger, loth to go, Ah! well, it canaeth sorrow To part from those we love belo«» For shall we ever meet or no P • To-morrow 7 FITH WHEBK may everlasting springs be found? In an inlia-rubber factory. THEWS is only one way for a woman to keep a secret. That ia to keep it going. ASPARAGUS resembles long sermons in one important particular--the ends are most sought after. SOMEBODY advertises for . a servant girl who would not be above placing herself on an equality with the rest of the family. "THB Circassians are at their old trade of selling their daughters ngniw, That's very common among parents in this country also. Sous parents raise cliildren on the same plan they would a tree, evidently thinking that the more they're sprouted the better they'll grow. THB report that Cleopatra's Needle was to be brought to Boston probably arose from the fact that the City Govern­ ment voted to have a great sewer. " NEVER catch me marrying a reformed man," said a wise little Chicago girl; " when I get married it will be to some man who doesn't need reforming." THE householder now maketh the first fall foray at his furnace and coal-bins, and returneth to the drawing-room with a smudge on his nose and his hair full of cobwebs. WOMEN have been known td remove their jewelry under the excitement of a camp-meeting sermon on charity and humbleness, but no one ever saw them throw away a real-hair switch. RECEIPT for expediting wine-making (men trampling the grapes while reading the papers)--Visitor--"You give them newspapers?" Proprietor--"Yes, but opposed to each man's opinion; reading them they do their trampling with a vengeance." Two MEN met on the piazza of the Railroad Hotel; at Linooln, Neb.; one claimed that Nebraska was all a good country, or should be; "all it lacks," said he, "is good society and water." " My good Lord!" says the other, " that is all h--l lacks." A SHIPWRECKED Irish sailor was nar­ rating how he and his companions had floated about at sea for twenty days in an open boat. "And what did you do for food, Pat, when the provisions gave out ?" asked a bystander. " Sure, and we dined on one of the officers. 'Twas the first mate we'd had in a fortnight," was the reply. A YOUNG lady asked her young man Saturday evening why he called her his Ultra, and he courteously replied that it was a Latin quotation. "This," said he, " is my knee, and when I add you to it I have my knee, plus Ultra, wliioh is Latin for 41 don't want anything more on my knee.' Don't you see, my dar­ ling?" She said she did. A LADY sent a note to the newspaper to get a recipe to cure the whooping cough in a pair of twins. By a mist&ku a recipe for pickling onions was uncon­ sciously inserted, and her name attached, and she received this answer through the "Answers to Correspondents:" Mrs. L. H. B.--If not too young, skin them pretty closely, immerse in scalding water, sprinkle plentifully with salt, and immerse them for a week in strong brine. MR. SETOEBBAUGH, of Eighth street, has picked up the expression--"I sup­ pose I was born so"--and has been using it quite frequently about the house of late. The other morning, when Mrs. Skiderbaugh set about washing her lit­ tle four-year-old, the youth opened the ball with a nursery symphony that made the man overhead repairing the roof think an earthquake was hunting for a job somewhere about that part of town. " You ought to be ashamed of yourself! A great big boy like you bawling like that! "Why, you're a regular baby!" said his mother, fetching the damp cloth over his little purple nose like an ag­ gressive mop persecuting a door-step. y Well, I tan't he'p it, ma--boo-oo-oo- oo-oo!--I'pose TUB bo'n so," was the tiny reply that spluttered out from un­ der the moist, uncomforting towel.-- Cincinnati Breakfast Table. Borneo and Juliet. Allegheney's talk is about the at­ tempted elopement of a pair of lovers who belonged to the wealthiest families in the city. The respective parents were as full of hatred as the Capulets arid Montagues, anil would not sanction a marriage. Borneo wentat night under­ neath Juliet's window. She let down a string to which he attached a rope- ladder, wnich was then speedily placed in position. Juliet descended, and had barely reached the ground when her father popped his head out of the win­ dow. He climbed down the ladder as fast as he could, and caught her. Then there was a struggle between the father and the lover for the possession of the girl, who, of course, fainted. The father was the victor, and she is now under a close guard. IN Sweden primary education is com pulciory on all.