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. iwmUbs* S ' • mam Youths' Department. was a large family, and Mr. Benedict had provided four boxes. -sHENl^ : V!l i |IL«INOI& RAIN. iRom the first chirp of the robin-bro To the rain of the roues! 'Through the sunshine's (fold hercKttfliitMfr, In the doubtful April weather. "When the ng how it feels LI | n! "Then, asrain. you see her from the sky fouoii & U'iKiity Scc-ii smfoldissg, "That you wonder if Old Earth knows «l . It receives BO hard a scolding! * TStot we learn to |«hey. day by djy :.iwe ̂ tch her softly shining, j*t she has no cloud, however f But it wears a silyer lining! ̂ though with tears the teUa* t "Hotf tw lands grow sad and darken, Jet m spring her drops are tinkling bells For the sleeping flowers to hearken! 'And her tinted bow seems Love's own proof. As it gleauis with colors sevenr--- - - - 3Like astately dome upon the roof Of her palace, high m Heaven! -Ed+ar fayfffZtn St. Xichf*»forJ&. *»'* THE BEST OF ALL. 'V. -r- "•.< •JgyBflEfe i(jr love became she is » -•Her eyes are like two stirs, her flowing hair -Like braided sunshine, ana her small fleet fe«fc , ;-.Keep time with my true' heart like music sweet, r J love my love because she is so wise: : > Her soul sits ca|ni and thoughtful in her eyes, -Nopassion stirs her; she is still and fJtlm -As in the tropic noon the quiet palm. 1 love my love for that she is so good: -No human heart hath fully understood Iter gentle ways, her happy, hopeful face, • Jprignt with the light of some sweet holy place. f < t love my love, the fourth sang, glad and ftf "• J l p v e m y l o v e b e c a u s e t h a t s h e l o v e s m e : ' Tfiu is enough to make me proud and Unt, ' •1. love mv love because she loves me best. •tin ii vnwtt noK' ^.r "Sl­ im-*- , lir« -THE birds made such a racket in t.jie flmneysuckle vine outside my window Hfyat I couldn't sleep. The moon was > Stil| in the sky, but a veiled yet lumi­ nous Splendor in the east told that the 'day was breaking--the day of Jane «£hafc began my twenty-seventh year. When I say that I was a woman, and •add that I was unmarried, and, worst *o%ap,#t]tyat Iliad lost for good the requi- JWe energy tnatheld forth ahypromise IH that direction, it will naturally be •thought that I shall make but a sorry "Th^ofne; anft if is Just because of these •discouraging facts that I want to jot dawn this little experience of a day, as &Boi*t of consolation to that suffering part of my sex whq havelatent hopes, dong lingering, uritulfillld, at times at •the last gasp, theft flickering up again 'with a sickly tenacity most painful to ^contemplate. But who knows what a > -day may bring forth? Who knows? I went about o% tiptoe, not to awaken minima; and I took it as a piece of in- ".^ratitude that when (she came down to •breakfast, and began to enjoy the toast I had so nicely browneel for her, and 'the egg I had so nicely poached for her, -and to sniff the fragranpe of a bunch of j>t6neysuekles that I had scrambled fop f at the risk of a sprained ankle and the " "Cost of a shower or morning dew upon my clean ca,lico--Ithought it mean of 'mamma to begin about that church fes- 'tival before the day had fairly begun. ^ I'm so glad it's fine weather, Jane," said mamma, "With great urbanity of rtone and manner. "I thought I'd get up early, so that you could reach the church in good season; and T wouldn't waste any flowers in the house, dear-- ;3*d keep them all for your table." i ^ ^«You know very well, mamma," I • n feplied, " that I'm not going to have a table. I've served my apprenticeship at tables. Long ago, when I was < l?u«e.#iitM»if, £ wore white, with my * naircurung abolit my snoulderS, and had the flower table, and enjoyed it. Later on, I put my. hair up, and had a fancy table, and ehdured it With great resignation. Last year I had recourse «feo a switch to Ike out my scanty locks, and was compelled reluctantly to take !^|i#'%)st«fiic0.This year I sha'nt have l * -ik f Sust, VtnAot go, ing to the festival." n. * lisMiiia put tjowa har bit of tpas^and ^turned absolutely pale. "Not going to-the festival!" ahe ••echoed, mournfully. " No,*mamriia," I laid, beginrring al- , really to plead my case. "Can't I ' lit^e one birthday to myself? I'm twenty-seven years old to-day." . bush, Jane," said my poor imother. "You scream so, the Hunters xiext door will hear you, and blurt it all •over the place. I'm not deaf. If you ohoewe to give up -all chance of--of so­ ciety, and neglect your Christian duties, ^and refuse to help the church along, •why, of course, I have nothing to say, •onjpv I must in that case go myself." '-1 cried. " You'll be siqk a -moqtli afterward; you haven't 1 know it, Jane; but if you refuse fto do these things, I must. I know I shall be prostrated with the heat, and any nerves will be shattered,, and you are young and strong, and still attract­ ed ,-iye enough to conipete wi£h any young «4 Itolly hi fiie places, and might, I verily 'believe, if you were not so obstinate T amti hiads^ona, be surrounded and ad- V • iMred tis you^lesl ia-be, *nd ton might, for my sake, Jane, at least attend these | e n t e r t a i n m e n t s . " •*Mam ma put hef» handkerchief to her «yes, and I yielded; 1 groaned in flesh =and in spirit, b\|t I vJeWed. After I had tidied tfie* work, and settled mamma in the cool shady sitting-room iupon her favorite lounge, with a nice book at her hand, and a palm-leaf fan -close by--for the day was growing hot • I ft* twistedllp m^ hair before the glass, & * ^th many & sour mocking grimace at the dark, thin, disoontpnted face there­ in, put on ̂ug;> browfi linen dres3, a •caJ abash of1 a Mt, and went off to the church. My mother looked after me, with guch misery in her face that I called " back to her I would wear something ~ nice in the evening. < " VViil ,yau wear your rcwfe-Qplored crapej?" pleaded mamma. "Willi wear spangles, and jump "uDt|-, through a hoop?" I said. " No ma; 1Y11 urear my blaek " And curl your hair?" she coaxed. "There is a whole switch already ejirled for nfB up in my bureau draw- egv' I repliei. " It's *npe this hot weather to haw-e very-K&Uehair of one's own!" " Don't scream so!" said poor moth- looking toward the Hunters' side in^ows., ^ " Ai if the Huhioes dXbl't know all about my failing chlirms, and nohdoubt ,took an inventory of them half yearly to send abroad to the eldest son, who had been away in China these five years and more, fund would likely nfnpr come back Atileipt tie n|d a secret>ece&S CfTftat btires« Where lay the convenient switch of hair. Time was '.vhen I needed no curls shorn from maidens across the seas or manufactured from home material. 3fhadplfentvfcfJack Hunter out one of them off with his penknife the night when we parted. " I don't know," he sand savagely, " whether I most hate you or love you; ibut I'll keep this to remember the girl who flirted and fooled away the truest a fleet ion a man ever had for a woman." > He hacked the curl from my head with his penknife, and looked at me as if he was half tempted to do me further butchery; and Clod knows I didn't care then if he had drawn the knife across my throat; 1 should not have resisted him. " Don't go, Jack!" I cried out at last, holding the edge df his coat; "Don't go anyway, so far as China; if you do, I shall commence to dig a hole when you get there. They say that China is right under U3, and I'll begin with a little pick and shovel as soon as we get news of your arrival. Theq you can begin on your side, and we'll itoeet each other half way." - " He flung me from him with some­ thing like an oath. "You would joke and laugh over my grave," he said, and went away, not to come back again. WKfl V>/\li/kvrn^ J*- MnD • • --V r« x/VMV* UMT\J IV |7V|OOi Uiv t That the years could come and go, the sweet summers bloom and fade, the heart of the roses lose strength and fail and fall away, to come again as sweet, as strong, as fresh as ever, and Jack, my Jack, never come back to me? Yet he was not dead--nor wed. That was one good thing. And he was out there among those women with nar­ row eyes and stinted feet, and he didn't as yet know a word pf the language. Be was growing fat, he WVote home*to his people next door, and bald, which didn't matter on the top of his head, so long as he could keep enough to culti­ vate a pigtail. This was necessary, as he meant to set up for a Chinese Man­ darin, and was already embroidering a gown for the purpose on spare nights. Afid I felt, when they read me the let­ ter, that it was* Jack's turn now to make merry, when other hearts were sick and sad. If he had only sent me one little line! He showered gifts upon other people-- chests of tea and pareels of silk, love­ ly bits of decorated qjiina, big soft beautiful shawls of crape. He sent gew-gaws and gold to so many others; if he had only given me one little word! They must have told him I had been sorely punished; that my mischievous gayety he had whiffed out like the flame of a candle; that even the beauty of which he had been so proud and fond was gone--every bit of it gone. Sleepless nights and useless repinings, long wearisome days, endless years filled with w|ld yearning for that which seemed forever hopeless, had robbed me of all. The pld bloom of the heart took With it thfe crimson cheek, the laughing eye, and the light, elastic step. Lven my hair fell out. Alas! poor me, the flesh fell from my bones. As I hinted before/ it was not a very alluring object that greeted me in the glass on the morning of my twenty- seventh birthday. " Aroint tjhee, witch!" I cried, and .wiped away with the hand-towel some salt tears that fell upon the dimity bureau cover, and upon the grave of sad, sweet memories. Then I put en my ugly brown dress, and the hideous bonnet to match, and wf nt off to ttye church, pausing at the portal to* look longingly over at the Cool» quiet graves of some of our old neighbors. A soft wind stirred the long gl ass there; a few birds hopped lightly Snd ifobrlessly abont. " How calmly, calmly smile the dead Who do not therefore grieve!" "The Yea of heaven is Yea," I said, and went on into the church, where the ladies were grouped around the straw­ berries that had just arrived. I took possession of a whole crate of these, sending the young and pretty maidens home to recruit for the evening. There were a few feint, polite re­ monstrances when I declined to take any active part in the evening's enter­ tainment. "We must leave that part to the young and attractive," I said, and there was a general buzz of ac­ quiescence. I had the consolation of h earing several remarks upon my ex­ traordinary good sense and practical Capability.'l- i ' * i * I was graciously allowed, after I had hulled a whole crate of strawberries, to hold a step-ladder and some nails for Mrs. Smith, the apothecary's wife, while she hung some gorgeous drapery, and otherwise deformed the eool, gray walls of oui* little chapel, so that I was pretty well tired when I went home at night-fall. Mamma metjne at thegate, And looked at me so dolefully that I burst out laughing. " Never mind, mamm#," I Said; " 1 won't look so cadaveroits after I'm rested and dressed for the evening.". But I'm afraid I was rather a painful object for the gazeof<a*doting &nd once ambitious mother even when I had donned my black silk, and was ready for the evening. My hair was neither crimped nor curled. You see, I had depended upon the switch, which was bought for purposes of ttiat kind, and failed me iornominiouslv at the last moment. I^y head ached, and I Could uofrbear many hair-pins thrust into my scalp; in no other way would the ob­ stinate thing be induced to stay on. Mamma was heart-broken, and I was disappointed; but even inanimate arti-. cles become perterse at times. I thought perhaps the switch was griev­ ing over a beloved and lost head of which it was once part and parcel, and ft I forgave it, and left it to its perverse- ness from that time onward. When 1 readhed the church I was im­ mediately ther called juin^tation Ireqt of a & wider upon for something groclrv counter"--&n ht about fey the ad- to-do groofer in our . a stock-mlder* %nd a man afflicted with many maladies, of which he loved to talk. * He had* gen­ erously sent down from the city, in pound packages and tin cans, samples of his available goods, and had pro­ posed this " grocery counter" to the younff ladies, which they despised and would have none of. The grocer him­ self found favor in their sight. They flitted about him, filled his button-holes with bouquets, his pockets with bon­ bons; they looked up in his face, and tried to talk t© him, BOOT ohiklreaj as best they could. But tjiey appealed to Die to t?_ke th.6 w'lJh" its sordid pound packages for home neces­ sity, and I took it with an ill-concealed avidity. The truth was, a kind of heart-sickness seized me when I thought that the evening must be passed in stak­ ing myself generally agreeable, and I felt that to wander about this place, distorted,out of its sweet savor o? god liness and quiet Sabbath rest so dear to a wearj soul--to wander about among the flags and wreaths and tents and ar­ bors, with a. smile for one, a nod for another--was like the protracted and agonizing pilgrimage of a lost soul be­ yond the borders of the Styx. So I speedily put myself behind the counter, which comfortably hid more ;than hajf my tall, gaunt figure, and was so glad of tnfc shelter that I found my­ self becoming interested in these de­ spised parcels piled up before me. I determined, if I could, to make my mission a success, so that I and other poor wearv women might have this refuge to £y to in these gal» seasons of misery. The successful grocer? who ha*® not been verV Well pleased With thfe Open ingratitude for his bequest, took heart and brightened up when he sawmegiv- ing an air of smartness to his goods. Ffi fixtricated himself from a bevy of young and fair ones, an<l came gener­ ously over to help me. In sl\eer grati­ tude, I began to praise his young colt that was pasturing in a field adjoining our garden, and he remained with me. Shortly after, when he found that a queer feeling in his head agreed with the same discomfort in my own poor cranium, he brought a chair behind the counter, and in a low, tender voice he detailed to me the interesting diagnosis of his pet mahtdy. On the other side of me, the minis­ ter's son, who was home from college, and suffering from that period of ego­ tism which comes to young men of nis kind, remained during the entire even­ ing, to show his contempt for the young, the fair, the frivolous. A few old mar­ ried friends, whose Wives were sick or away, hovered about the grocery count­ er, so thjit it really did happen that I was surrounded by men. The evening was passing pleasantly enough. My "dark corner was well patronized, and every woman who has to do with church entertainments will understand my gratification and relief when I found it was nearly ten o'clock and all was Well. At this time a letter was put into my hand by one of the little Postoffiee mes­ sengers--we always made a feature of the Postoflice at our festivals, where. Sink and' parti-colored missives, witW oves and other doting designs upon the envelopes, were distributed at ex­ travagant rates of postage. I had just been favored with a liberal offer from a customer, and, elated with mv bargain, proceeded to put up my bundles, not giving much heed to the love-letter from the neighboring booth. Truth to say, I felt a little tingling of the blood at the idea of the mockery that might be concealed therein by one of those witty village youths, and the letter lay there for a full half-hour, when some­ body said, in the most commonplace way: "So Jack Hunter is back from China." ' In a moment everything was black before me. I dropped my hands and my eyes to the counter, and when this sudden dizziness was gone, I saw upon the little tawdry envelope Jack's scrawling handwriting. Here was the little line I had coveted all these years, and this is what my half-blinded eyes made out: " I came home because 1 was mad to see you--because all these years and your old perfidy, couldn't kill my love ,for ypu. I find you just as I expected to, in a space small enough to be filled outside and inside with--men. You are as beautiful and fascinating as ever, aud as fond of admiration. I hear that you are about to be married to the grocer at your elbow, who so engrosses your attention that you do not care to look at the passers-by. God help him, and God bless you! I have had my lesson. Now I shall, perhaps, be satisfied. Good-by." Five minutes after that I was run­ ning home, without my hat, and with his note crumpled up in my hand. The people at the festival no. doubt thought that mamma was taken suddenly ilk They could not have fancied I was run­ ning after Jack, becauso he had been there at the church for an hour, and I had been totally unconscious of his presence. Dear Heaven! how could it be that I didn't know, that something didn't tell me, that I didn't feel he was near me? But I didjjH. I went on talking to the grocer about a remarkable opera­ tion for an ulcer that he had under­ gone, when Jack must have been °n|T a few rods away! I ran down the road, my heart in my throat. Fortunately the village street was deserted. Every man, woman and child were at the festival, except those who could not be out at all; so I ran on unchecked, a dim fear gaining weight with me that Jack had not unpacked his trunk, and was off to China again within the hour. But when I reached his house, which was next door to my own, I saw him isitting out on the balcony smoking a cigar, with his feet perched upon the railing. But his face grew very pale in the moonlight, and his feet clattered quickly down upon the porch when he saw me run in at the gate. The cigar fell from his lips, the ashes tumbling over his broad white waistcoat. " Why, thank God," he said, "this must be my own dear little girl. Now, see here, Jenny," he began, scolding, a minute after; but lie kept tight hold M me, and trembled fully as much with happiness "as I did. Nothing can penuade him that I am not a desperate flirt, as beautiful as an angel, and irresistibly fascinating. I have not the least doubt that half the village are laughing at Jack's ridicu­ lous devotion and jeatooir; but tlio well-meant endeavors of his friends and family to convince him that I am a plain, faded, unattractive and neg­ lected old maid he laughs to scorn as a conspiracy of envy or jealousy. And how can I wonder at his delusion? Mamma says Jack has terribly aged during these years of loneliness and exile, and looks older and not so comely as our neighbor the grocer; but to me he is still the handsome, alluring, in ev­ ery way adorable Jack. He is walking up down the little balcony next door at this present moment, and, hidden by our odorous honeysuckle-vine, I am lis­ tening to him trill out the last words of his favorite ballad: *^1 "8o girls be true while yoor lover's nirajF,"" cor a cloudy morning, for a cloudy m u mm. Oft p proves a yleswmt day." --Harper1 $ r',-. - m i •. v-,4,4*5, JnTenl]e Mepraritfr ^ ON Tuesday last, four boys, the old­ est only eleven years old, were ar­ raigned before the Tombs Police Court, New York, charged with attempting to wreck a train on the elevated railway. The evidence against them was con- elusive. They were seen climbing on tfce track and coming away from it. A pair of old trousers, picked up in an alley, was packed full of cobble stones and hung over one of the rails. A Belgian paving block was also wedged bet ween the guard rails. Scarcely had these obstructions been placed on the track before an engine with cars at­ tached came down with great speed. Fortunately, the train held the track, and the boys did not enjoy the fun of seeing the cars and passengers dashed into the street below. The boys scrambled off the track to a wooden awning, and thence disappeared throng^ a window into the street, and were caught. Two of the boys cried when they found themselves in the Police Court, but the youngest and smallest of the gang told the officers to "shut up." They all admitted the attempt to wreck the train, and united in stating that the object was sport. Each declared, how ever, that " de udder boys done it.' An attempt was made by the counsel for the boys to have tRe charge against them dismissed on account of their ex­ treme youth, but the Justice decided that boys who could.plan and execute a scheme of that kind were old enough to understand the effect of it, and that they must take the consequences. He accordingly bound them over to the Court of Special Session. On the same day, at Brooklyn, three boys, aged, respectively, twelve, fifteen and eighteen years, were arrested while picking the lock of a building One of them acknowledged that they, with one other boy, constituted a gang of thieves who had. been carrying on a system of robbery for a long time. The crimes were planned by the oldest of the gang, ana executed by the others. At present a large proportion of, Wfmes^are eommlttM by mere chil­ dren, and, as a rule, they go unpun­ ished. A morbid sentimentality inter­ ests itself in behalf of juvenile crimi­ nals. It is as difficult to convict a boy as a woman. If sentence is pronounced against one of them, an effort is in­ variably made to procure a pardon. An incarnate fiend like Jesse Pomeroy is.the recipient of more favors than ever fall in the way of ten thousand worthy boys. Many claim that these juvenile monsters are not responsible for the crimes they commit, inasmuch as they inherit the depravity they dis­ play. This may be true, but it does not show that society should not securc protection against persons who cannot keep themselves from doing wrong. Persons are not to be blamed for insan­ ity; gtill it is best for all concerned thstt the unfortunate victims of this terrible malady be placed where they can do |io harm. Persons like these juvenile train-wreckers and thieves, who in­ herit insanity, mental or moral, or the desire to commit crimes, should not be allowed liberty to gratify their infernal impulses or to dissemminate them, by force of example, among those who are sane. Misguided mercy to one of these viotims of inherited vice.is cruel­ ty to the whole community.--Chicago Time*. Florentine Cabs and Carriages. SOME idea of the cheapness of living in Florence may be judged from the legal rates fixed for carriages and cabs. They are so low that an American is ashamed to offer such rates. For a carriage with two horses, comfortably carrying four, per drive, sixteen cents; for the first half hour, thirty cents; each additional half hour, fourteen cents. Thus a carriage capable of car­ rying four (what we would call an open barouche, or a close carriage if preferred) costs for three hours but seventy-six cents, or nineteen cents each passenger. Thus in going to the circus last night all the driver had the right to claim was sixteen cents, and there being an extra charge at night, after nine o'clock, thirty cents for coming home. It is seldom that an American adheres to these rates, con- dequently the drivers make a rush for them when they come out of their hotels. They have good horses, drive with great speed, the carriages are kept clean and comfortable an^ the drivers are very kind and attentive^ What would some of our Jehus at Bar­ ium's corner think of such charge's as these? However, if the latter imagine that their brethren of Florence are deficient in the artifices of their profes­ sion, they are much mistaken. We yesterday gave one of them five francs, 1 4-U^v 1^-- ~11~. 1 4' 41 »ui/no uub bliivc W 11UU bUV 1AT P Li shrugged bis shoulders and held out his hand with a beseechihg expression indicative of a desire to have one more as "buono mano," which, we suppose, means to get a drink of wine with, though everybody seems toibe temper­ ate in this part of the world, including hack drivers.-̂ Cor,„ ̂ Baltimore - Amerv' can. v': ij, if THE BENEDICT FAULT. WMjr Tfcer IMd to tit* «#*- . cert. THE whole family had planned to go. Even little Annita had been promised to be allowed to go, with the strict un­ derstanding that she was to sit quite still, and hold up her head and not co to sleep. Of course she could do ah this she meant to show them, TO she just sat do#n in her, own little chair, and sat perfectly still for five seconds. " There,' cried she, jumping up wain. " Can't I, can't I? I guess I've hid a birf-day, and I'm not a baby at all!" But Annita did not go to the concert, nor did any of the family. I think they would have gone, if Annita had not made^mud-pies that afternoon, or if they iiau not useu silver-plated knives altogether for the table, or if they had not had strawberries for tea. You see Annita could not be cured of making mud-pies. "Time will cure her," said her father contentedly, hunting for a decently clean spot on Annita^s face to kiss. One does not like to kiss dirt, even on the face of one's own child. Bat Annita's mother and sisters were not satisfied to wait for the time-cure, thinking of the wash­ ing and the dirty face and hands. Above all, thinking of the carving knife. That was the greatest trouble. For mud-pies cannot be made without a knife to dig dirt with, wad Annita nev­ er returned the knives she borrowed. So one after another of the kitchen knives went out to the mud-pie bakery, and never came in againl At last there was left only the carving knife, and the plated table knives which could not be borrowed, being wisely kept on the top shelf of the chiha closet, a region An­ nita had never been able to explore. Tea was ready at six o'clock, all ex­ cept cutting the bread, the cheese, and some cold ham. Then the carving knife could not be found, and Florence Benedict who had been preparing tea went out to look for it. The bakery had been moved, and so, evidently, had the knife, tor it was nowhere "to be seen. Then Annita had WJ UO ivuud, Of course. She was under the large fir tree in the front yard, dressing a dolly. " Where is the carving knife, An­ nita?" asked Florence. "I know where it ll," taid Anhita without looking up. "Well, where?" asked FloreneQ. " Tell me quick, dear.?' "Well--it's--only a little kind q' lost, Florence," said Annita, gravely. " It's up in the garret, or else it's down cellar, or else out by the barn, orelse in the front yard, or the back one, or--or-- ahind the wood-pile." " Good gracious! Annita, do you suppose I can go to all those places in a hurry, and tea waiting? Come and help me find it." " But I am 'fraidCharlotte Henrietta will be spoiled if I leave her." " Oh! that old doll, without any head or legs or arms, no she won't, dear. Come along and help me!" said Flor­ ence. Annita slowly left her play and be­ gan to look for the knife with Florence. Just then Hattie came out to ask why tea was not served; but seeing her sis­ ters hunting, she also joined in the search at once. A few minutes later, Johnny, being hungry (Johnnv was al- wavs hungry), come out to help the girls. When Mrs. Benedict saw them all wandering about through the shrub­ bery, looking intently at the grass, she knew immediately what had happened, so she came out and began to look too. Sam and Henry came along just then, and as these family promenades in search of the carving knife had oft­ en been taken before, they knew just what was wanted, and also that they could have no tea until the knife was found. So they joined in the search though I do not think their help would ever have found anything, for Sam had new boots and haa to look at them most of tho time, and Henry, whose name was William Henry Harrison, and who was to be a celebrity, turned round and round in the garden walk and scratched his head. That was the way he always hunted his hat. It was not long before Mr. Benedict came in through the front gate, bring­ ing some boxes of strawberries for tea. These he put down on the piazza, in order to help the rest find the knife Of course, everybody looked in the same spot. Annita and Florence went, out to a bare spot on the north side of the house, where the bakery was lo­ cated, and hunted carefully, but the knife was nof to be seen. Then Mrs. Benedict, knowing how care­ lessly the children always looked, fol­ lowed them. Mr. Benedict could not think of any place else to look, so he followed his wife. Then Sam and Henry, thinking there must be some reason for everybody looking there, came and looked too. So it happened that the whole family began to follow each other in a circle, hunting over the same places. At seven o'clock, Mr. Benedict looked at his watch. "Well, 1 don't see," said he, "but that we must give up the search, and go in to tea." So the family followed each other into the dining room. The tea was still on the stove to keep hot, and the milk and butter in the ice chest to keep cool. There was nothing but dishes and sugar on the table. "What shall we eat?" askod Mrs. Benedict: " That is true," said Mr. Benedict. "One cannot eat sugar alone. Peg" haps we had best find the knife." So the search began again. At eight o'clock Mr. Benedict again looked at his watch. " It is now too dark to find the knife without a lantern, and ours we lent to Uncle Job, last week." " Then let us go in to supper," said Mrs. Benedict. "To tea, mamma," suggested Hattie. "You know there is nothing to eat but tea and sugar and milk." f "And butter," added Johnny, who never was known to forget the butter. "There are also some strawberries on the frost piazza," saidMr. Benedict. " Hattie and Florence, you will have to hull them first," said their mother. The family sat down in the sitting- room, where Mrs. Benedict bad lighted a lamp, to await the strawberries. It "One does not like to be able til count bis strawberries," said he, bv w vL04 *Pok9ff fo* the eitewtagMQft, Of oomne n took the girt, a g«at while to hull so many strawberries. At nine o'clock the family sat down totedC There was not much to eat, to be sore, only tea and strawberries, but thfufiliil were delicious, and, luckily, in reasons able abundance; and, as all were hun­ gry > it was ten o'clock when they rosfr . from the table. Mr. Benedict fookeft at his watch. " I think we will not go to the co«p* oert this evening," said he. " Annitfet is already asleep, and, as the tea-thingS are to be cared for, it might be too law when all were ready. The girls were greatly disappointed and so was Sam, on account oi his nelp hont-a ^ The next morning, when Johnnjr went to the pasture with the cow, he found one of Annita's dolls, very straight and very stiff-looking, standing1 up straight in the ground, near the pasture-bars. It had a smooth ivory face, without eyes, nose or mouth. On taking off its clothcs, it proved to be the carving-knife. i» "I told you 'twas only a little kind# lost," said Annita --Jennie EggUsiUfc: Zimmerman, in Wide-Awake. " Divided Up." Fiv® ragged, unkempt and weeg children were left orphans the oth« day by the death of their mother, ft widow, who lived on Prospect street. The father was killed at one of the d*r pots about two years ago, and since then the mother had kept the family together by hard days' work. Lack at food, exposure and worry brought on an illness which terminated fatally, a«A the children huddled together in a colt ner of the room feeling awed and frightened but yet unable to realize that death had made them waifs. When the remains had been sent away to Po#» ter's field, a dozen women gathered and h«id a whispered consul tation. " I'll take one of the poor thii though I've four children of my ow: said one of the women. " And I'll take another.** ^ ^ f " And I'll take one." *m * "And so will I." Then there was the babv--a toddling boy, who had been rocked to slee every night of his life, and whose b^ blue eyes were full of tears as shrank behind his sister to escape ob» servation. 1 " I could take him," said one of women, " but I'm quick-tempered, the Lord will never forgive the woms who strikes a dead mother's child!" " I could take him, but I am old add will soon die," said another. "Wliea he had learned to love me, and I had come to look upon him as a son, deat|t would separate us." A girl not over ten years old, dressed a little better than other children there, crept into the group and heard what was said. While the women were looking into eaoh other's faces in si­ lence the child reached out for tho babe, patted .its white head, kissed hin and said: * "I will take this one! I have no brother, and ma and pa will let me keep him. He can sleep in my trundle- bed, plav with my doll, and they mi put all titie Christmas presents into' stocking!" The women protested, even as they wept, and the girl ran around the cor* ner and returned with her mother, who sanctioned all she had said. jy "Come, bubby--you're mine now!" called the girl, and he laughed as sl|tc put her arms around him and tried . lift him up. t By-and-by a woman said: f > "Children, you have neither father, mother nor home. You must be dj* vided up or go to the poor-house. Kiaft each other, poor orphans, and all kiss the baby!" They put their arms around him, and hugged and kissed him, and they went out from the old house to go in diffeff* ent directions and perhaps never agai|t : to meet all together. "Good-bye, Johnnie!" each one gasped, as they turned for a last look at baby, and the little girl called to each one in turn: "Don't feel bad! I'll give him lots t|| eat, learn him his prayers, tuid when he' s a big man he'll buy yon all back!" --Detroit Free Press. Piute Appreciation of Mark Twain* THE Eureka Republican tells about Mark Twain's lecture in Dayton, Nev., some years ago. His agent used to get up an excitement about the lecture by building a bonfire before the hall ana sending a fife and drum through the streets an half hour before the begin­ ning of the entertainment. He did this in Daytbn, then a flourishing camp, and the Piutes nat'ufally got the impression, that some kind of an exciting show wae to be given, so the Chief tackled the ei** , t e r p r i s i n g a g e n t o n t h o s u b j e c t o f h a l $ » f « ' price admissions, and some thirty Indj|| - / ans paid their half dollars and filed int<£ the hall. Presently Mark made his ap* pearance on the stage and began drawls ing away in his usual style. The white people laughed boisterously, but the Indians looked puzzled, and after standi ' ing it for fifteen minutes they bega£ ^ whispering and grunting among them| , selves, ana finally the Chief got up an<| I went out to the box-oflice ana inquire^ when the tumbling was going to comj* mence, and that " heap big fool" wap going to quit talking. Upon learning tliat the performance was going to b*i all talk, and conveying this horrid in- i formation to the other Indians, thej° rose in a bodv, left the hall and swarmed to the box-office and demand­ ed their money back. The agenjl couldn't think of such a thing, and thje Piutes went out on the street and gave vent to their feelings in war-whoopaiL. It looked for a few minutes as if the disgusted warriors would start in tot wreck the hall and murder the lecture^ A crowd of whites, attracted by th% loud, angry yells of the red man, gath­ ered, however, and Mark Twain mfe saved to an admiring world. -- A r e y o u the Mate of this ship?" said a newly-arrived passenger to th**i cook. " No, sir. I am the man thai; ^ cooks Me mote," said the Hibernian. J VVy A