' • ' ' " ' » > J C 5 ' H J . I * • £ • . , . • . v . * • ; r »•»? • :«•»*> iA <*i^L >».. > , _ », • J • ai ' ZPR WINTER MORNING. ***• * ! COWP^R'g «TAS*." ' ns» mocning; and the sun, with ruddy orb } . Ascending, flits the horteon; while the clou That crowd away before the driving wind, 5|os$ safest fa (fee emerge# wo|», Resemble iviostsafac city la a W©,ei Seen thraueli the leafless wo<nI. His 5 tnvffertuiS down the snowy vsi©, * And, tinging all with its own rosy hue. From every herb and every spiry blade Stretcher a length of shadow o'er the fteM. Mine, spindling Into longitude immeiMW, la apite of gravity, and aage remark , That X utjTSSlf am bat a fleeting "hadjfc ( ^ 4fclK' Provokes me to a smile. With eye askance ' I view the mtvicuiar proportioned limb Transformed to a lean shank. The shapeless pair As they design to mock me, at my side , Taksitoy for step: and, as I near approach The cottage. w*k along the plastered wall, -* Preposterous sight! the legs without the m«h ^ , The verdure of the plain lies buried deep « Beneath the dazzling deluge; and the bents , ' j And coarser gram, upspearing o'er the rest, ' OX lat< unsightly and unseen, now shine Conspicuous, and in bright apparel clad, And fledged with icy feathers, nod superb. The cattle mourn in corners, where the fenoi them, and seem half petrified to sleep •'if la uiireCuustKui asGume. xnere me wan Theii wonted fodder; not like hungering ma#, ' Fretful if unsupplied; but silent, meek, .. ,f j ^ And patient of the slww-paced swain's delay. ! " He from the stack carves out the accustomed lofrt, Deep plunging, and again deep plunging oft. Bis broad keen knife into the solid mass; Smooth as a wall the upright remnant stands, With such undeviating and even fore* ( He severs it away; no needless care./ •••». Lest stornis should overset the leaning pile ,, Deciduous, or its own unbalanced weight. » ^ Forth goes ths woodman, leaving unconcern^ • The cheerful haunts of man; to wield the ax And drive the wedge in yonder forest drear, From morn to eve his solitary task. Shaggy, and lean, and shrewd, with pointed earn And tail cropped short, half lurcher and half cur, His dog attends him. dose behind hie heel Now creeps he slow; and now, with many a frisk Wide scampering, snatches up the driften snow With ivory teeth, or piou s it with his snout; . Then sbakfes his powdered cost, and barks ftw joy. Heedless of all his pranks, the sturdy churl Moves right toward the mark; nor'stops for aught, But now and then with pressure of his thumb To adjust the fragrant charge of a short tuba* ( That fumes beneath his nose; the trailing cloud Streams far behind him, scenting all the air* Now from the roost, or from the neighboring pate Where, diligent to csteh the firat fair gleam Of smiling day. they gossiped side by side, Gome trooping at the housewife's well-known call The feathered tribes domestic. Half on wiiyf, ~ And half on foot, they brnsh the fleecy flood. Conscious, and fearful of too deep a plunge. >, The sparrows peep, and quit the sheltering aavfla, To seize the fair occasion; well they eye The scattered grain, and thievishly resolved To escape the impending famine, often scared As oft return, a pert voracious kind. Clean riddance quickly made, one only care Bemains to each, the search of sunny nodk. Or shed impervious to the blast. Resigned To sad necessity, the cock forgoes His wonted strut; and, wading at their head With well-considered steps, seems to resent His altered gait and stateliness retrenched. How find the myriads, that in summer cheer The hills and valleys with their ceaseless songs, Due sustenance, or where subsist they now} Earth yields them naught; the imprisoned worm is safe Beneath the frocao clod; all seeds of herbs lie covered close; and berry-bearing thorns. That feed the thrush (whatever some suppose), Aiiora the smaller minstrel* u«> supply. The long-protracted rigor of the year •, Thins all their numerous flocks. In and holes Ten thousand seek an unmolested end, As instinct prompts; self-buried ere they die. i i ENGAGEMENT. BY A. F. L. G. * Mr. Colburn, I'll trouble you to re- my hand." * Nonsense, Jennie, listen to me. I--" " I won't listen to you!" c ' * Yes, you will," rejoined the young man, with superlative good humor, " you are as anxious to hear what I have to say as I am to say it. I love you, Jennie, and I know that you lave mfe." "I don't love you! ';JDT--at least--I tare always had a sort of sisterly affec tion for you, Jim; but--" . "Sisterly fiddlesticks! I tell you that I know better. Come, quit pout ing, and give me a kiss, little cherry lips, and then you may set the happy day, or,if you like, I'll set it myself, and at a very early date, I assure you." Jennie Kingston gave a queer, nerv ous little cough, blushed a little and re sponded: " I'm very ""much surprised at you, Jim." " Now, Jennie, I don't like to be im polite, but, upon my honor, I can't be lieve that." " Mr. Colburn!" n Were you speaking to me, Jennie? " " Yes, Jim, I--one don't like to be ac- of misrepresentation." , "Then don't misrepresent. What's ttie use, Jennie? I know, and you know, that we've been in love with each <>ther ever sfnee we played at house keeping under the old apple-tree away back in Maine fifteen years ago." Jennie sprung up hastily, and, catch ing her jaunty little hat from the mossy bank where it had been carelessly tossed lialf an hour befdre, exclaimed: "Come, . Jim, we must go back to the hotel. It Is getting late. Mamma will be won dering at our prolonged absence." won't go a step." Then I shallgo - "Not at all," laughed Jim; "you for- • • get that we reached this cliff by means Mi of the little sail-boat. Now, even if » you were capable of traversing that lit-" tilfl tie strip of the blue deep, unaided and ,i J alone, don't you see that I'd be left here fot the buzzards to pick?" •*».#; t "Of course, I couldn't manage the twit," said Jennie, thoughtfully. :^:R*ithoughtnot», I# > Mr. Colburn, do yon call this gen tlemanly treatment? * ' "Oh, I don't know," replied Jim; fkftdn't thought about it."' ? Jennie sat down again upon the broad, flat rock, and, drawing a fleecy scarf across her nhoulders, re marked, stiffly; "g "Since I am compelled to await your pleasure, I may as well take my ease ^rhile doing so-." Jim glanced at the slight, bewitching little figure, sitting..so primly there, gazing with a fixed determination toward the north pole, and a half- amused, half-puzzled look changed the expression of his face for a moments. Then the smiles predominated, chasing away all signs of mystery, and, throw ing himself at full length on the long grass at her feet, he exclaimed: "Jennie, you dear, provoking little tease; what on earth do you want? Bid you expect me to make a clown of my self by getting down on my knees and telling yen I'd die for yon, and all that ? rd do it, Jennie, in a minute--any true man would be willing to die for a woman he loved, as I love, if necessary-- but, to be eaisdid, I fancied you would not care for any such extravagant protestations." Jennie's little boot beat impiatiently on the ground, but her lips were silent. Now Jim was certainly excusable for placing his own construction upon this strange reticence--at any rate he did so, and a broadcloth coat-sleeve wound it self lovingly around Jennie's slender waist, and an audacious mustache was close to the ripe, red lips, when he was pushed away, half angrily, with the ex- olaioation: "Jim, I wish you'd go away,and leave me alone!" "Hello!" shouted the astonished young gentleman. "Is it possible?" Then, in a gentler tone:' * „Why, Jennie, what's the ratttteff for she was crying a little, very softly, be hind the miniature lace pocket-handker chief. " Jim, let's go back 1iome." "Jennie, let's go down to tlxat^old church yonder and get married." • Jennie is very properly shocked by this lawless suggestion. "Well, if you wotild rather wait a week or two," he resumed, carelessly, "I won't insist." "I shall never marry you, Jiml" she announced, in a tragical tone. )A gtHxl-humored laugh accompanied ms reply. "Oh, well, have your own way about it, Puss; you need not promise me un less you choose, but I'll wager a dia mond ring that I will lead my bride to the altar in less than a year, and she will be no other than the fair Jennie Kingston." Her face grew a little paler, afld the lace handkerchief went up to the brown eyes again. Suddenly a new, thought seemed to disturb the serenity of Jim's mind, for he glanced up in her face anxiously, and interrogated: "Jennie, you don't mean' to say that you're in dead earnest?" ' "Yes, Jim, J am." A long silence, finally broken by the abrupt inquiry: " Why won't you marry meVf , "Why, you see, Jim, the truth is, I'm --qn gaged." "Engaged!" he yelled furiously, springing to his feet; then, seizing her arm almost rudely, he demanded in a low tone: "Jennie, tell me who the fellow is." "I won't." ** , you wilL" ' Well, then, it's Col. Dalton." "Col. Dalton! What, that bald-headed old--" "Sir! You will please recollect that you are speaking of my future hus band." "Husband! Why, Jennie, he's old enough to be your grandfather; but then he's rich." "I certainly have no occasion to mar ry for money," she asserted proudly. "True, you have not; hence I fail to comprehend your sudden determination to marry Dalton. You don't love Jennie--you can't." "Jim, it is rude and unkind for you to talk to me as you do." "Well, I'm not in the humor for utter ing polite commonplaces. I -want to know if you love that man." "You have no right to ask me such a question." "Yes, I have! the very best right in the world. I have worshiped you from my boyhood, and the idea of relinquish ing you to any one half maddens me! How much more the thought of yotur bestowing that little white hand--nity little hand--upon one who can never possess your heartlXjell me the truth, Jennie. Have you any real affection lor him?" "No." " Hurrah! I knew it! N6w listen to me. I am going to ask you for the last time. Do you care anything for me?" " Of course I do." "I knew that also; but it does my very soul good to hear you say so. Now give me a kiss, my "Go away, Jim! I have mot the slightest idea of kissing you." "Why, how queer you are! What's tb@ matter? I thought that was the reg ular way to settle up this business." " What business ?" " Our engagement." " Jim, dont you, cant you, under stand that I have promised to marry that old--I mean Col. Dalton?" Jim laughed p-rovokingly. "Did he kiss you?- '/;* • ' u,r \ " I should Mve boxed his cars if hoi had attempted such a thing I" After a long pause Jim inquired, sadly, " Jennie, what on earth made you doit?" Til tell you all about it," she an* swered. "Yon have, of course* ob served that he has been one of my most devoted followers ever since he efune here. I have discarded him two or three times, but it does not do this least bit of good. He comes right back again as attentive and persistent as before. Well, last evening he enticed poor mamma out on the balcony, and they had a long talk together. Shortly af terward, mamma enticed poor me up to her room, and we had a long talk to gether. Jim, she $as inexorable! Nothing less than an immediate and un conditional surrender would satisfy her. I said everything I could think of--called him a few names, which she declared hurt her feelings very much, but I could not move he? an atom. Fi nally I got scared, and what do you sup pose I told her? I said that I was go ing to marry you ! You ought to have seen her then! She gazed at me a mo ment precisely as if I had stated an intention of leaping to the moon.* Then she inquired, placidly: Has James ever asked you to become his wife?" Now, you poor, unhappy sinner, what could I say to that but no! Then followed a most interesting dis course, setting forth in a startling man ner the folly and madness of those err ing females who place their hearts' young affections upon any individual who has not taken the trouble to ask for them. She went on in this strain till I became very much ashamed of myself, and just a little bit angry with you. While I was yet in this comfortable frame of mind I chanced to encounter the Colonel, and, like a little idiot, I ac cepted him. That is all, Jim." At this moment a skiff with a single occupant shot around an abrupt bend in the shore, and came swiftly toward them. Jennie glanced up, and exclaimed, in a hurried whisper: "Good gracious, it's Col. Dalton! and he's coming up here." And he came. The Colonel bowed very graciously to Mr. Colburn, and then, turning to the young lady, remarked smilingly, " Ah, here you are, little runaway. I have been looking for you. Do you n&t think it is time to return? " " Oh, yes." she replied; "we were go ing to start this minute." Then, turn ing to Jim, " Why, I believe I have lost my glove. Will you just walk back to that old arbor. I think it must be there." x" Oh, certainly!" responded the astute Jim ; " I will go with pleasure." " You see," explained Jennie, as die accepted the proffered arm of the gallant Colonel, " I wanted to speak with you a moment, so I sent him away." "Indeed! I shall be very happy to hear whatever you may have to say." " No," she returned; " I am afraid it will not make you happy; but I must say it all the same, I want to ask you to release me from our engagement, Col. Dalton." j "Miss Kingston! you/surprise and pain me exceedingly. This is very Sud den." "Why, yes," said Jennie, slowly; "I believe it is sudden." " I am, perhaps, asking too much," he continued, " but I am very anxious to know what has caused this change in your feelings." ;-p " There has not been any!" she cried. "I have not loved you all the time-- you know I have never told you so--and I have loved Jim all my life! Now he has asked me to be his, and I cannot marry you or any one else. You are not angry with me? " "No, not angry; and, though sorely grieved at the loss of the treasure Jim has gained, I think that you have acted wisely and bravely in thus telling me- the whole truth at once. May Heaven bless you, my dear child!" He clasped the little hand closely in his own, lifted it gently to his lips for an instant, then he was gone. "Did you find my glove, Jim? " " Haven't looked for it. Did yon tell him?" "Yes." " And he released you? " "He did." " And I suppose that you and I may consider ourselves actually engaged at last?" " I suppose so." " Well, then, Jennie, I think I have waited about long enough. Now you may give me two or three kisses peace ably, or 111 help myself to as many as I choose, without your Ladyship's per mission. ̂"Jim, I really cannot think it my duty to encourage you in such foolish- A low, happy laugh answered her; then a lively struggle ensued, at the termination of which a pair of plump white arms w&re wound around Jim's neck, and his loving salutations were being returned with interest. 1 ; ' / - , BB1.Z8. • What iii association of ideas crowd upon the mind as we reflect upon this subject! The Very luuuu of " bells " is hallowed to the uses t6 which they are applied, and their sounds are replete with touching recollections. The solemn Sabbath bell, the curfew- bell, the alarm-bell, and the merry mar riage-bell, are striking terms, which in dicate their purposes and qualities. The chime of bells chanting swelling notes of sacred melody--the palpitat ing alarm-bell giving warning of a de structive conflagration; and the curfew- bell tolling the hour of departed day-- thrill our hearts with emotions as varied as their sounds. The church-bells originated in Italy; and, of all the instances of the power of bells to touch a sympathetic chord within the human heart, the most mov ing is the tradition told in connection with the peal of Limerick Cathedral, in Ireland. These bells are said to have been brought from a convent in Italy, for which they had been manufactured by an enthusiastic native, with great la bor and skill. This Italian, having af terward acquired a campetency, fixed his home near the onvent cliff, and for many yeais enjoyed the daily chimes of his beloved bells. But in some subsequent political con vulsion the monks were driven from their monastery, the Italian from his hotfse, and the bells were carried away to another land. After a long interval, the course of his wandering brought the bell-founder to Limerick. On a calm and beautiful evening, as the vessel which bore him floated in the Shannon, he suddenly heard the bells peal forth from tbe ca thedral towers. They were the long-lost treasures of his memory. Home--happiness--iriends --all early recollections were in their sound. Crossing his arms on his breast, he lay back in the boat. When the rowers looked around, they saw his face still turned toward the cathedral, but his eyes had closed forever on the world. 1MB PRIME OF LIVE. Between the ages of 45 and 60 a man has properly regulated himself may be considered in the prime of life. His matured strength of constitution renders him almost impervious to an at tack of disease, and experience has given soundness to his judgment. His mind is resolute firm, and equal; all his func tions are in the highest order; he assumes mastery over his business; builds up a competence on the founda tion he has laid in early manhood, and passes through a period of life attended by many gratifications. Having gone a year or two over 60, he arrives at a stand-still. But atbwart this is the via duct called the turn of life, which, if crossed in safety, leads to. the valley of "old age," round which the river winds, and then beyond, without boat or cause way, to effect his passage.. The bridge is, however, constructed of fragile ma terial, and it depends how it is trodden whether it bend or break. Gout and apoplexy are also in the vicinity to way lay the traveler, and thrust him from the pass; but let him gird up his loins and provide himself with a fitter staff, and he may trudge on in safety and per fect composure. To quit metaphor, "the turn of lifen is a turn either into a prolonged watt: or into the grave. The system and powers having reached the utmost expansion now begin either to close like a flower at sunset or break down at once. One injudicious stimu lant, a single fatal excitement, may force it beyond its strength, while a careful supply of props and the with drawal of all that tends to force a plant will sustain it in beauty and vigor until night has entirely set in. MHKAHE A FRIEND TO XJfA The anniversary meeting of the Medi cal Society of the District of Columbia took place last evening at Tallmadge Hall. A large audience assembled to hear the oration by Dr. A. F. A. King. The subject of the essay was, "The Con servative Influence of Disease in Pro ducing Longevity." With much force of argument and analysis he labored to prove that disease was not the terrible enemy to mankind that it had been painted by the terrors of humanity, but in reality was a truej and beneficent friend. He quoted from the celebrated Dr. Austin Flint that "the existence of disease, rightly considered, was an ines timable boon." He said that disease was not, in itself, better than health, but that it contributes to promote longevity, relatively to circumstances. He cited morbific conditions known as gastritis, rheumatism, hemorrhage, mumps, and insisted with an earnest ness that commands attention and \a subtlety of logic that inspired respect for his originality of thought, that these diseases prevented sudden death. --Washington Post. CHARLES O'CONOR, the great doctor? disappointer, of New York, has retired from the practice of law.' FACTS »FOX THE OUMIOUS. IK clapboarding, one bunch, laid three and one-half inches to the weath er, will cover twenty-six square feet. Use five-penny nails. A CIJBIO inch of water, evaporated under fee ordinary atmospheric pres sure, is converted into 1,700 cubic inches of steam, or, in a unit of meas ure, very nearly one foot, and it exert® j a mechanical foroe equal to the raising of 2,120 pounds one foot high. CAST steel is made by breaking blis tered steel into small pieces and mat ing it in close Crucibles, from which it is poured into iron molds; the ingot is then reduced to a bar by hammering or rolling. Cast steel is the best kind of steel, and best adapted for most pur poses. THE reafK>n that milk boils more read ily than water is because it is a thicker liquid, and consequently less heat is carried off by evaporation of steam; therefore, the heat of the entire mass will rise more rapidly. Again, there is a thin skin which forms upon the top of heated milk, which of course confines the steam, and increases the heat. THE principles of acoustics are but poorly understood. As a general rule the ceilings of halls and churches should be at a moderate elevation only. Some times the hanging up 6f flags or dra peries will improve the acoustic prop erties, sometimes a hood or false 'ceil ing becomes necessary. The whisper ing gallery of St. Paul's, London, offers an interesting example of one of the principles of acoustics. THE article known as vegetable isin* glass, which has hitherto been de rived from Eastern *Asia, is now ex tracted from French factories. It is, in its crude state, a yellowish gelatine, but which, after repeated experiments un der the auspices of the Industrial So ciety, of Bouen, has been successfully converted into what bids fair to prove the best sizing for cotton cloth knoetm. Macerated in water for twelve hours, boiled for fifteen minutes, and stirred till it. is cold, the article gives a clear solution, which, as it does not again be come a jelly, can be laid in its cold state upon any textile fabric, and be left to dry. One invaluable property it pos sesses is that of defying, at common tem peratures, damp and mildew, and it is, therefore, being applied to give luster not only to French prints and muslins, but to woolens and silks. MOW TO GO TO SLEEP. Sit down in an easy position, relaxing all the muscles of the body, and let the head drop forward upon the breast, as iow as it will fall without forcing it. Sit quietly this way for a few minutes, free ing all the will power of the body, and a restful, drowsy feeling will ensue, which will, if not disturbed, lead to re freshing sleep. If the sleepless fi comes on in the night one can simply sit up in the position described. Stiff ness of any part of the body must be avoided, and it is well to bend the body forward after lying down, rather than to keep it straight or thrown back upon the pillow. The writer suffered sleep lessness for several years caused by severe pains and nervousness, and was taught the above by a physician of great expe rience and ability and found through it complete relief. Many persons similar- y afflicted within the writer's knowledge have tried it, and always with good re sults.--Kansas City Journal. A MAN TRAP. * * * Now, I took a description of One of these husband-hunters as she sailed down Charles street. It may not be correct, but it comes very near it. It was whalebone and steel, contracted at one-point and distended at another, with a îiump and a bum, a scoop and eleva tion, paint and frizzles and curls, with red, yellow, green, blue, violet, crimson black, and, in fact, the rainbow, skin- deep gold and wood-deep pearl, with something on her head, but it was not a bonnet. Everything she could get sewed on, pinned on, hooked on, tied on, pasted on, buttoned on, she had upon her. She was all fussed up every which way. What can a man do who is caught in such a trap? When he is once caught he is gone.--jBaltimore Ameri can. A DANCING IDIOT. Ten years ago the wife of a well-to-do contractor of this city attended a ball, on which occasion she danced to excess. Soen after she gave birth to an idiot son, who in due time was consigned to the poor-house. Ever since the boy has been able to stand he has been going through the motions of a crude waltz. In his waking hours he is never still a moment, but is continually whirling round and round, or shuffling along the floor, keeping time to silent music with his arms, head and body. The boy's parents are still living in the city.-- Indianapolis Journal. A DEAF MUTE BOTH DEFINITION. A gentleman once asked a deaf and dumb boy, "What is truth?" Here- plied by taking a piece of chalk and drawing on the blackboard a straight line between two points. Then he asked him, "What is a lie? " The boy rubbed out the straight <line and drew a zigzag or crooked line between the same two points. Remember this. G. WLKSOM There is a'time--'tis evening-# When the swallows home When the golden rays of sunsft* Wild anew^the western akyj,, When the varied forms of life, ; Thro'isrbout nafnef cease to roamS*?*. J(f yisl.ij.̂ «»'• ' M . • a## There is never more a homo«< « The fairest and the gayest, Or the humblest sons ol Find each day an hour of respite It w~'i rest from all turmoil, And the palace or the cottage - Has,a comfort *}1 its own, ™ *or me--the weary w There is never more a honwr**^ 4 11 ever, ever wander, * * 8ad, tad lonely, to tod f», ***' tSWiiM-- , j j' Seeking, seeking for a something M • Yon in vain would ask to know, ; " Kindly hands are oft extended^" 1$*? ; Welcome doors are open ttitown!; But, with all their wonted kindness^ It can never be a home. Thns maybe I'll ever wander H^ i- ^; While the seasons come an& gb," i Ever searching--never finding, What my heart, so longs to know. But the searching will be ended, 's , And the wanderer cease to roam, And this weary, hungry soul Bhall flait." At last, thank Qod! a home. ittoux CITY, Iowa. y. V \ -- JpMSASAirtBmS. "CORN bread," said the Irish waiter, " wo haven't got; an' isn't it corn bafe ye mane?" ., , ,. . THE tramp qnestson ̂Bay, kin yer give a fellow suthin' ter emtf"^-Boston Traveller. / . "I LIKE to make sponge cake," she said, innocently; "it makes my hands so clean." ; THE experiment has been tried often enough to prove that' the button-hook is not a night-key. < " SAND" color is the latest color in Paris for traveling dresses. It is said to look as sweet as sugar. WHY are horses in cold weather like meddlesome gossips? Because they are the bearers of idle tails. STATISTICS lately issued show that in Italy 17,000,000 people can't write. But they can play a hand-organ. ̂ WHAT is the difference between a blind man and a sailor in prison? One cant see to go, and the other can't go to sea. WIFE--" But, my dear, I shall' catch cold coming down so late to let you in." Husband--" Oh, no, my love; I'll *np you up well before you come down. JUST as soon as a young fellow over in Europe settles ̂ owni and thinks he is a first-class King, some knave comes along and tries to play the deuce with him. THE REASON why the Irish like the French better than the Prussians is, be cause when Napoleon came to the river Bhine he at once made propositions to bridge it. No MATTER how good-natured a man may be, he will invariably get mad when he discovers that there is no towel in the room, and he is compelled to dry his face on the bed-quilt. MRS. FORD, of Clark coanty, Mo., found a lump of shining metal in the crop of a chicken she was dressing for the pot, and, on examination, it proved to be a grain and a half of gol£. "WHAT," said an interviewer to an unpledged candidate, "do you intend to do if you are elected?" "My good ness !" said the poor fellow," what shall I do if I am not elected ?" AN Irish editor, claiming the inven tion of everything for the Green Isle, gravely claims the pianoforte, and does it thus: " The pianoforte of the pres ent day is simply the Irish harp placed horizontally in a long box, and played by machinery." > AN old colored preacher iî Atlanta, Ga., was lecturing a youth of his fold about the sin of dancing, when the lat ter protested that the Bible plainly said, "There's a time to dance." "Yes;dar am a time to dance," said the dark di vine ; "and it's when a boy gets a whip- pin' for gwine to a ball." A SAN FRANCISCO woman, having no faith in banks, carried around $2,400 in her bustle. Thus her income was always in arrears.--Norristown Herald. No, sir; you are very much behind in that joke; it was the woman who put her money all into two soltaire earrings, and her property was always in 'er ears. A LADY in Lima, N. Y., who lately ac cidentally broke the handle from a china cup, rashly exclaimed that she wished none of them had handles. Later on it became necessary for tbe serving-maid to explain matters, and she proceeded to do so by saying: " In- dade, marm, and ye's said ys'4 prefer to hevthe hanthels all off, and > y$ see I've done it rale noice." • GYPSIEB. , M .̂ Edson L. Clark, in his new work on "The Races of European Turkey," sayB that gypsies are really an offspring from the Hindoos, being simply a wan dering tribe from the valley of the In dus. Their language is a branch of th ̂ ancient Sanskrit, akin to the modem dialects of Northern India. A modern Hindoo would probably make himself understood by any tribe of gypsies in Europe.