THE "AGER." ,, , . 0*ce upon an evening bleary, IfeiP. While I sat me, dreamy, dreary. In the annshlne, thinking o'er Pausing thine* in days of yore; - Wliile T nodded. noar v sleeping,,' Oftm'v came a something creepir|(|S«%s .USt iuv I jack, like water seeping--* [ •,P>-epiMc npwrd from the floor., j *14* aoo«lin* breeze." I mutters „ *Vr HP. t. ie regions 'neath the tlUW*- f)nly this and nothing more." #,«<) distinctly I remenibel 4l _ i was in one wet September, r» "Wti >i> the -nrfh, and every member < Of cr-nti'n that it bnro. "Htd or *uoks and wo ks been »«kill| In i tie moment, inos:-provoking ; Jftnrgy rains that l with' ait joking) Me haii ever feen before; do 1 knew i' must l>e very Cool and damp beneath the floOT-- Very cold beneath the floor. " Ho I sat me, half-way napping. In the sunshine, stretching, gaping, <Jmving water, bin delighted With the breez> from 'nnath the flOQV) "Tiir I found nv» growing cfllder, * ' And th-* stretching waxing bolder, .An'! myself a f ^elini; older-- . Ouier than I'd felt before; jfoeling that my joint's were stiffer Than they were in days of v ore- lit: ITer than they'd l>een before. All along my back the creeping •; ' • <Joolness noon was rnshing. leaping ' \ A# if countless frozen demons Were attempting to explore All th-* cavities (the varmints) Twis t me and my nether garments. • Up into my hair and downward Through my. lwwts into the liooc: . v Then 1 found myself a-shakine, - 'Blight at first, but. more and mt|fcfc Every moment more aiwi more! , Spon I knew what 'twas that shook to»J TCwas the ager, arid it took me ' -lEitto heavy clothes--to every Place where there was warmth in store;"' " Shook me till my teeth were chattering. Till the tea they brought went spattering .From the cup. while all my warming , . 'Made me colder than before; ' 'i."' - Shook mo till it had exhausted All its powers to shake me more- Had no strength to shake me more-- Then it rested till the morrow, - When it came with all the horror That it. owned, or e'en could borrow-- Shaking harder than l>efore; . , And irorn thar day, damp and drfihry, When I sat, all dreamy, bleary. It has made diurnal visits, . Shaking, shaking, oh. so sore! Shaking off my boots, and shaking Me to lied, if nothing more-- . Fully this, if nothing more. . . And to-day .the swallows flitting Bound my cottage see me si-1 ing Moodily within the sunshine, Just inside my silen' door, Waitin - for the ager, seeming Iifke a man for ver dre .mine, And the sunlight on me streaming ^Throws no shadow on the floor; J%r I'm now too thin ftorn ager " . v; |ro make shadow on the floor-- fciary shadow--any mo el «-Louisrille Courier. NO FICTION. (The editor is in possession of the name of the author of the following singular narrative, and of the place at •which it happened, and has every rea son to be satisfied of the entire bona fides of the writer, a clergyman of the Church of England.] I' Early in January, 1879, clerical duty called me into the Northwest of En gland. In the midst of a heavy fall of enow my family took possession of the official residence provided for us. It was an old stone! louse of one sto ry, roofed in part with ancient stone slabs, in part with modern slates, and standing in a garden bare of trees. A •wide passage ran back from the entrance Ttoward the k'tchen, where there were two doors, the one leading into the yard, the other into the larder, which was in fact a roomy cellaT at the foot of a flight of very old steps. The five oeurooms ail opened on a square land ing- "How about the roof?" I asked of the man in charge. "All right, sir. Everything hss been carefully seen to, and when the thaw -comes I'll warrant you'll not be troubled anything to matter." In a few days we had "shaken down; and the verdict on our new home was: "Not grand, but decidedly cozy." A tall,$o'id, freshy, rosy young wom- .an had undertaken to be our one ser vant. Sparing of words was she, but miot sparing of work. "The incarnation of stupidity and -•^stolidity," said my son Primus. "The very thing for us/' said his another. The girl's name, being Stillwell, soon " became corrupted into Stillwater;-or-, :for short, Still. It was splendid skating weather. "The low-lying meadows were covered to the depth of a foot or more, and one glided along over acres of smooth, /green,. transparent ice. Every day sal'ied forth, my three boys, their sis- 'ter and I, to take our fifl of enjoyment in this icy paradise; coming, back to bask all the earning be'ore the bright golclen sunshine and the silvery asltcs of a North Country coal fire. My wife has the weak habit of going to "tuck up" h<»r boys after they are. in T>ed. One night their voices sounded •so angry that she ran up in haste to see what was wrong. On entering their room she fo.und the two elder boys sit ting up in bed, hurling injurious and derisive epithets at some person or per sons unknown. "Let me just find out who you are and you'll get such a jolly 'good licking as you'll remember,"/^ announced Primus, gazing wrathfuffv. at the ceil ing. . "Oh, you blooming idiot! 'I wish I'd jour boots. I'd throw them at your head. Be off! I'm taking af sight at .you," shouted Secundum, nose and fingers upturned in the same direction. "Are you teoth mad?" inquired the atern, maternal voice. "It's that fellow, mother, .that I told you about. He's on the roof again. Just listen to the row he makes." ° "Nonsense," said his mother; but she stood listening for some time. "Oh, you.coward!" "Ah, you iunkproceeded from the two beds. Not a sound above. "I have heard no row on the roof," remarked mother, with dignified em phasis ; and, having performed the us- •ual ceremony, she departed, and came and told me of the whole affair, con cluding with, "I wonder if .it can be rats?" "Not a doubt of it." Next morning the boys were full of "their nocturnal visitor, and declared that no sooner had the drawing-room •door shut than the scrambling and tramping began again. "History tells of a , certain cat who wore top boots; but I never „ heard of Jrats adopting the fashion," I remarked. "Rats, father! Why, we know the sound of them well enough. And they rim between the ceiling and the roof. But this is- unmistakable bdots, with . plenty of hobnails in them, too, On the -outside of the roof. "We expected every moment to see the fellow's logs come through plaster and all. I think I may be permitted to speak with authority on the subject of boots and roofs in con junction." He ceitainlv might, for he had pej£ ambulated the roofs of all thy outhouses* at S., to the great detriment of tiles * and slates. "Well, then," continued Primus, ^ arith the air of an fidept, "I am so sure it was a boy of my size in hobnailed boots that I feel as if I had seen them. I could swear to them." • "Come out and have a look," was my *»ply. There lay the white mantle, smooth and glistening in the sunshine, and un trodden by so much as the foot of a tom-cat. The boys looked at each other in amazement. "I don't care," said Se- onndus, defiantly, "I shall always be lieve it was a boy." "It's the frummest thing I ever knew," slowly remarked Primus. "If Boots comes again, the only thing yt>u have to do is to wish him "a good night, and to cover up your ears," was mv recommendation. • That evening, just as we were about to begin prayers, we were all startled by some tremendous blows on the cellar door. My wife, thinking there must be some one at the back door, told Still water to go and see who could be knocking in that outrageous way. The girl did not stir. After a mo ment she said: "It's the cellar door." "Impossible!" said her mistress, "go .quickly and see what it is." . We heard the unlocking and relock- itig of the yard door. When the gfr came back she said there was no on there. Presently, while I was reading, there came more loud blows, as if struck by a heavy fist, and unmistajka- blv against the cellar door. When prayers were ended ve went to make acquaintance with our mysterious captive. On opening the door there was nothing to be'seen but the flight of steps. - My wife and I exchanged glances which said very plainly, "A sweet heart." So, as the youth appeared shy, I gave him an encouraging invita tion to come forth and show himself. No reply. ^ "I am determined to know who you are," said I, nobly pluuging into the abyss, the boys at my heels. Nothing whatever to be seen, and not a corner in which anything bigger than a mouso could hide. The window'? It was tight ly closed up for the winter, and was, beside, blocked with snow. I was cer tainly mystified, but I sent the young ones off to bed with an assurance that wind in an old house was capable of making the most extraordinary noises, and in illustration we all in turn shook the door--not, however, producing any thing like the previous effect. 'It must have been at the backdoor," said my wife, with a searching look at Stillwater. "No, it's the cellar door that does it," quietly replied the girl. ' '" "How can it make that noise of it self ?" "I don't know." "Did jou ever hear it before?" "Yes, this evening, when Miss was at the piano." * « We decided that we must watch Still water. In the courss of the night we were awakened bv the agreeable sound of "drip, drip, drip," in one corner of Ithe room. My wife put a basin beneath with a towel in it to deaden the sound. Presently, "drip, drip," again, but out side the»door, which we always kept open. "There's a sudden thaw, and we're in for it," said I. "Let's go to sleep. It won't hurt the floor cloth. " \ But there was no going to sleep; forJ the drip came faster than ever, until ilf. increased to a little stream. There were no matches in the room; but I managed to find my bath, and to set it, with a blanket inside it, under the spot whence the sound came. When, at breakfast, I announced the sad news of the sudden thaw, there was a chorus of exclamation, "Why, every thing is as hard as iron," etc. The mother, meanwhile, was direct ing her handmaiden to dry up the Wa ter which had come in during the night. The girl stared. When she came into the room again, her mistress asked her what &he had done with the wet blank et. She stared more expressively,, ̂ ^ was mute. "Don't you understand ?" "Yes, ma'am, but there Ls no wet blanket, and no water to wipe up." Up stairs went mistress and servant, and in, two minutes b >ck came my wife, looking quite bewildered. "There's not a trace of water any where," said she; "and yet, after you were asleep I heard it drip fast upon the counterpane, just at my feet." Our delighted offspring settled it that mother had been dreaming, and Primus irreverently hinted that I had gener- ouslv lent my bath in order to escape my morning's shudder. Whei Tertius was being tucked up tliat night he asked. "Who was that per son who came and looked at me aftejr I was in,bed?" r "Stillwnter, I suppose." "Oh, no; it was an old woman,And she had a funny cap on !" M,;..,: "You dreamed"Iter, dear,"' "But I hadn't been to sleep; and I turned my head to the wall, and when I looked for her again she had gone awav." "You must have been half-asleep. Now go to sleep quite, and finish the' dream." The next night Primus began: "Mother, I wish you would tell that old party not to come into mv room without knocking. I had just got into bed, happened to glance across to the* drawers, and there she stood, coolly looking at me. I was disgusted, and tiirned my back upon her. Presently I looked out of the tail of mv eye, to see what she was doing, but she'd cut." "You don't know who it was?" "No. She looked like one of the char women--Boots' mother, I dare say. These people are cool enough for any thing." My wife called to Stillwater, to ask if Mrs. Brown or Mrs. Jones Ead.beein in that evening. She was answered that no one had been. "Then you must have been half asleep, although you did not know it, and'have dreamed." " Yes, t suppose so. But it seemed vei'v real.\ At any rate, I'm half asleep now," murmured Primus. ^ight after night we were aroused by the voice of this br that chilt^ .Their mother always went to them, and al ways found them sleeping peapefullv, though, a minute before, there had been sobbing and moaning. It was bitterly cold, and I pursuaded her not to go at the tfrst call. Then there was whim pering on the stairs. One n ght we had both been laying a'.vv.ke for some time, listening tcrwhat seemed like cautious steps, first-on the landing and then in our room itself. We had tried to persuade ourselves that it nuu;ht l>e mice'. But no; tlj^re w.^re distinct steps as of a person walking. Yet, though we followed the sound with our eyes, we saw nothing. Suddenly there was a howl of angiiijsh, like the cry of a large animal in pain. It thrilled us with horror, for it oame from our daughters' room, though it was not possible for it to be their voices. When we reached their bedsides they were calmly sleeping, and were not even aroused by our entrance with the light. Kniade quiet observations next day, both inside and outside of the house. "If you please, ma'aid, may I have my sister to sleep witjifme?" said Still water to her mistress. "Are you afraid to sleep alone?" "No, I'm not afraid." "Then why do you wish it?" . No answer; onjy a very earpest look. "Why, Stillwater, you Ibtpk as if you. had seen a ghost," said lifer mistress, laughingly. \ "Yes. ma'am, I hare," -she replied, very quietly. \ "And what did it look like?"\ "Like Mrs. N., just as slieywas of afternoons^ "Come^oj^e! she ought to have been e, you know." V Np/slie was not in white. She had on the same sort of cap she always wore, and the same dress and white apron." & "I hope you asked her what she wantAl." ma'am; I Jay still and looked at her, and then/ I"sat up and looked at her hard, and presently I could not see her." "It was lio doubt a dream, and you will probably never have such "an other." ; "•Jfo, I am sure it was not a dream. Besijle I have seen her twice before, whea I waf"yalking about. "-V •<„ "Out of dobrs?" . • , •> "Ko, ma'am; in the house. One after noon, toward dusk, she came and looked at me through the window. I wondered how she could be there, and I looked at her for a good little tiftie." "And then?" "And then she was Hot. there. And I wentfto the window and looked out, but she was gone." i, " What was the use of going to the window, when you knew she was deafl?" "I don't know; she looked just as if she was alive. The other time I was kneeling down on the rug, making your fii*e burn up. She passed straight before me." "Oh! nonsense! She would have set fire to her clothes." Still looked injured, bat quietly per?' sisted: "She did,ma'am. She passed straight between me and the fire." "How couid she do that? Beally, Still, for a sensible young woman, you are very full of fancies." ^ "It was not fancy, either of the tiimes, ma'am. I did see her, I did, indeed. I h&pe you will believe me." ....-- "Yes; I quite believe that vou think you saw Mrs. N. You may Lave your sister to sleep with you." Now it is not a pleasant thing for any man, still less for one of my profes sion, to confess that he lias felt "creepy" on account of certain inexplicable sounds. But, as this is a perfectly true account, I am compelled to acknowledge that it happened to me again and again, during the time of my dwelling in the Old Lodge. And I also declare that my wife and I Mere perfectly well in health; and that we had never before been the victims of similar terrors. Further more, though we spoke of the noises, We at first abstained from mentioning our sensations to each other. After an hour's sleep I would be aroused, as if at the command of some person, unseen indeed, but certainly in the room. Then a small something, say a marble, would be gently dropped, more than once, on the carpet close at my bedside; sometimes on the floor cloth, just outside the open door. Then the marble would be gently rolled on the boards of the room, and up against the skirting board. It was an immense relief when one night we encountered each other's eyes as we lay listening, and both made a clean breast of our terrors. Yes, noth- inr&short of that jsvotd Will do. We agreed that the first sufferer should wa^e'the other. But my wife found it fiot always possible to carry out this de termination. "Whatdid you hear?" I asked her once. " The chest of drawers was dragged over the floor," she replied. "I am thankful you spoke to me, for I have for some time been trying to wake you, but was not allowed. In fact, I have been kept perfectly motionless." I had heard precisely the same sound, yet the drawers did not appear to liaVe been actually moved. The sounds were so distinct that we always connected them with some special article. Now, it was a chair, or the towel-horse, that was moved. Now it was the loud snap ping of a thick stick in the hall. Now, it was a violent blow on the hall table, struok as if with my own walking stick, which I remembered to have left there and which I found there in the morn ing. Once, the heaviest book on my writing table appeared to be dropped, as if from the height of a man, on the .floer-clotli in the hall. Then a smaller one. I always myself shut the doors of the rooms leading into the hall. Of course, I tried in every way to ac count for the mystery; but, after a time, I could only resign myself to lie awake and wonder. The nights were bitterly cold. On one occasion, when there had been a persistent dropping of nuts in a corner of a room, I jumped up in des peration, and held the light close to the spot. In a second the sound was be hind me. I whisked around, but--tap ping to right of me, tapping to left of me, tapping in every direction, without a second's intermission. No sooner did I look toward one spot than the drop ping of nuts was at the other end of the room. It was as if some mischievous elf were amusing himself at my ex pense. Our boys had gone to 'spend a day or two with some friends; and their mother, not liking the look of the empty room, had closed the door in passing, giving it a push, to make sure that it was fast. That night we heard the door shut with a tremendous, bang. Even had it been left open, there was i^ao wind to move it. Another iii«ii^ when we had been awakened in the uiual way, there was an agreeable vari ety in the entertainment. A delicate, flute-like sound proceeded from the closed dining-room. Again and again ag distinct and long-su.stained musical iiote, as of some small pipe. Then the fifth of that iiote, then the octave, re peated many times; then the seventh and octave, over and over again. We were greatly puzzled. The piano was not in that room. And the sound cer tainly suggested a wind instrument of sweet tone. X I went down early next morning, and found to my surprise a concertina lying on a table. I lifted the handle and tbere came forth a long-drawn note, the very note I had heard in the night. My wife called out to me from up stairs, "That's it! that's it! What is it?" » Without a(ttempting to disentangle "her speech, I held up the concertina. "Oh, that is Phil's. He must have left it behind. But it was the very? note; there is no doubt of it." "" We locked the thing up in its box, and put it inside a bookcase; and the next night we were treated to a repeti tion of the musical notes, only muffled. It was not only during the night that the noise was heard. For instance: I was reading by the fading afternoon light, when a chair on the other side of the room seemed to be moved from its Elace; so that I instinctively turned my ead to pee who had entered the room. Again, I was about to go down the cel lar steps, in the afternoon, when I heard a heavy pickling-pan dragged along the stone-floor below, i-quite thought some one ; was down there; but, as"~ti»«^l, there was no one to be seen, and the pan was in its place. At 11 o'clock a. m. my wife and Still were on the landing. The girl was tell ing her mistress that ^lie had heard Mrs. N.'s voice the evening befolre. Her mistress told her she was giving I way to fancies. "But Mary Jones heard it too. She had just brought in the eggs, and stood listening to the singing in the drawing- room. Then I heard Mrs. N.'s angry voice again on the stair, and Mary said, * Who's shouting ?' I said I didn't know, and she said, 'It must be the missis. Lor'! how angry she is to hol ler like that! Doesn't she like 'em to sing?'" "In an old-house like this," began my wife, "there may be many noises caused by-^r" . ' • ' . • ' • " Suddenly a noise, as if a shower of small pieces of the ceiling came dbwn sharply on the floor-cloth, caused mis tress and maid to start back in affright, &nd involuntarily to look up. There was not a crack to be seen. Then the two pairs of eyes searched the floor in every direction, their owners cautiously standing within the shelter of two door ways. Not a morsel of any kind could they discover. "What was that, ma'am?" inquired Stillwater, fixing her sleepy gaze on her mistress. "I cannot tell,\was the only reply that occurred to that intelligent lady. One morning the post brought me orders to "move on." Instead of grum bling, I hailed them with delight. For we seldom got a decent night's rest, and my wife's nerves were beginning to be weakened by the constant strain upon them. * The Old Lodge had been for years in the charge of Mrs. N., who had borne the character of a highly respectable old lady, with the drawbacks of being somewhat misanthropical and very ava ricious. I am perfectly aware of the ridicule with which stories of this nature are generally received. I can only repeat that I have related an absolutely true experience, for which I am utterly un able to account. I have no theory on the subject. I have always felt a strong distaste for so-called Spiritualism. I perceive the inconsequence and even childishness of ijiy- «tory; and yet it will always remain, to the story-tellers, serioijs'fact.--Macm illcin's Maga- Some American Poetry. Once in a while we come upon a poet;, who is Veally more of a poet than he himself suspects, though as A more common rule it . ia exactly the other way--he is less of a poet than he sus pects. T. B. Aldrich may be put down as an exception to the more common rule. Almost every line written by him makes one think of a delicious ripe peach--there .seems to be something melting about it. And his poems are deeply impressive, growing out of tlieir naturalness, we suppose--once read and they leave impressions upon us that are never erased, but are constantly coming up and making one think of the author, throughout life. For instance, where is the person who has read Aldrich, who does not tnitik of him from having lines of the following poenk run through0 his head every time he notes the usual signs of a coming summer's rain sliower ? "We knew it wonld rain, for all tho morn, A spirit on slen >er robes Of mist Was lowering his golden buckets down Into the vapory amethyst Of marshes and swampn, and dlamal fens-- , Scooping the dew that lay in the flowers, Dipping the jewels out of the sea . - To sprinkle them over the land In showers. "We knew it would rain, for the poplars showed The white of their leaves, the amber grain Shrnnk in the wind--and the lightning now Is tangled in tremulous skeins of rain!" Then, again, where is the young man, familiar with Aldrich, who has not often thought of his "good night," far in the '"sma" hours," when he found it neces sary to tear himself away from the dear creature upon which he was deeply "mashed," had followed him to the door, and would catch and hold him every time he made a movement to start ? It's then he feels that Aldrioh "knew how it was himself" when he wrote: ~ "Good night! I have to say good night -• To such a host of peerless things! Good night unto that snowy hand * All queenly with its weight of rings! "Good night to fond, delicious eyes, Good night to chestnut braids of hair, Good night unto the perfect, mouth. And all the sweetness nestled there-- Tne snowy hand detains ine! then I'll have to say good night again!" So, of course, he had it all to do over, the w<^k of kissing good night, most likedy, ito "such a host of peerless things."V^ut then that's no business of ours. Cornisent is unnecessary. We set out to fluote the poem entire, so here is thejjfest of it: "But there will come a time, my love. When, if I read my stars aright, I shall not linger by this porch With my adieus. Till then, good night! You wisli the time were now! AndL You do not blush to wish it so? You would have blushed yourself to death To own as much a year ago-- What; hoth those <nowy hands! ah, then, I'll have to say good night again!" Now, isn't there plenty of real poetic life in that ? And yet Aldrich didn't know it; that is, wtj must conclude that he didn't from the fact that he quit writing poetry, so to speak, at a very early day in his life, and went to grind ing out but commonplace prose.--Mo bile lief/inter. f ' ~ ' ~ ;-- ' JOHN DEITEKLE was arrested in Jer sey City, the other day, on a charge of bigamy. The complaint was made by Mrs. Carrie Deiterle, to whom he was married on Nov. 1, 1881, and whom he deserted the following week. A short time ago Mrs. Deiterle learned that her husband was living with a woman named Elizabeth Shannon, who called herself his wife. Mrs. Deiterle placed the matter in the hands of detectives, who ascertained that Deiterle jtais mar ried Nov. 12,1881, in New York, tol^Hui- beth Shannon. * MEXICO, THERK are nineFf-ftTur servants' in Queen Victoria's household. H?r Majes ty ought to appreciate the remark of ir repressible "Sam Lawson," who said: "I should think them Kings and nobles 'ould feel's though they kep tahvern and was a-boardin' the lower "Inripn." . . . , . - \ ; • Political Considerations Alfcotinf Jlallmf Investments in our Sister Republic. [Hon. John Bigelow, in Harper,s Magazine.] Mexico has a constitution in which the rights of the people are as careful-, ly guarded as ours under the constitu tion of the United States. Her govern ment is as stable; her elections, how ever illegitimate may be some of the in fluences operating upon the electors, are conducted as orderly and as quietly as in the United States or in England. Pronunciamentos and revolutions have not only ceased for a series of years, but the desire for peace and order, and respect for authority and law, in defi ance of great and obvious abuses, inci dent, of course, to the exercise of new and unfamiliar political powers, is ap parently as thoroughly national and unanimous as the United States.. For more than five consecutive years peace and order have prevailed in every important city of the republic; occas ional attempts at revolution have been made in isolated districts far away from the centres of population and beyond the reach of the Federal authorities, but all of them, proved abortive, and succumbed to the new-born sentiments of national hope and pride. Protected as they now feel them selves against the intrigues and con spiracies and greed of foreign powers, the Mexicans are already manifesting conspicuous devotion to, the arts of peace. The recent removal of the f6r- tifications around the city of "Vera Cruz contains in a nutshell a history of the prodigious revolution which has taken place in their condition, sentiments and aspirations. 1 « • But while the Mexican government exhibits so many elements of stability, it will not do to lose sight of the facts; 1. That four-fifths of her population do not read, and therefore not only without any political education, but equally inaccessible to those public considerations by which through the press and the tribune the measures of an administration may be> commend ed to the popular judgments or peace fully resisted. Meetings of the people for the discussion of public measures are practically unknown, and though, of late, ample freedom is enjoyed by the press for the discussiofc of political questions, and though this freedom is liberally exercised by the metropolitan journals, it is needless to say that they reach and inform but a very inconsider able portion of the population. 2. The Mexicans, like all the Latin race, are inveterate gamblers. To this habit they have been trained both by Church and State for ^peratrons, and of all the aleatory devices for improv ing their fortunes there is none to which they are more addicted than the game of revolution. Though the winnings from this species of gambling are some times very great, the risks are also very great, and are rarely if ever incurred except when for one reason or another industry is disorganized, large classes of people are without visible means of support, and starvation or the highway seems to be their only alternative. Thanks to the l^rge amounts of Amer ican capital which are now finding em ployment in Mexico, and to the wise economies of the government, which this capital has contributed in no small degree to render possible, the revolu tionary tendency seems to tie almost if not altogether extinct; but like .causes will always produce like effects. So long as the present prosperity of the country continues, and labor is abund ant at good wages, the revolutionary forces in Mexico will not be formidable, and the government will be strong enough to hold them easily in check. How long American capital can afford to nourish Mexican industry; how much of an interval must elapse before the firm and stable government, with such assistance, can make a permanent and remunerative market for labor, and how long it will take to educate the Mexi cans as a nation into a due respect for the arts and industries of peace, are questions presenting so many elements of uncertainty as to render any attempt to forecast the political destinies of our sister republic extremely difficult. The risks of railway property, like every other, in case of revolutionary dis turbances are of course very great. It is always difficult, and it lias usually proved impossible, for railway corpora tions to so conduct in times of civil war. as to satisfy both of the belligerents, and if the faction tl\ev offend happens to triumph, the railways, from tlieir greater command of ready money and from their strategic importance, are na turally the first victims of its rapacity. The Vera Cruz and Mexican Railway, the first of any importance Constructed in Mexico, and still the only one which connects the capital with the sea-coast, was partially confiscated and its work of construction suspended for a period of three years because of its supposed complicity with the late imperial gov ernment of Maximilian; and though danger from revolutionary disturbance seems now almost reduced to a mini mum in Mexico, anv road running from any portion of her frontier to the capi tal has to pass through such long stretches of sparsely settled or wholly unsettled country that its trains are con stantly exposed to lawless marauders and more or less organized banditti. Unturned Electricity. The discovery by horses lately that electricity of a wild and decidedly quar relsome nature pervades the pavements of Nassau street, New York, was an electrical wonder. The London Globe says that "a curious instance of elec trical development by friction has been observed in a Berlin brewery, though not without causing a good deal of alarm among the workmen. The build ing is constructed of stone and iron, the floor being laid in asphalt. In the upper story of the malt-house was a malt-cleaning machine, from which the malt was taken through an iron shoot to wagons below for distribution through tlio works. It was found that if this remained in operation for a length of time electricity was developed by the friction of the malt with the shoot, and in the most isolated portions of it the tension of the electricity was such as to cause a continuous stream of sparks. The malt itself crackled, while the sparks flew from it to the hands of those standing by, who looked u^ion the manifestation as one of demoniacal orig in. An expert was called in to examine the phenomenon, and the subject was brought before the Electrical-Technical union. Dr. Werner Siemens showed lioWvtHrough the influence of the as- phaft floor, the malt- room was so insu lated from the other portions of the building as to become a large Leyden jar" ' " Hazel Kirke " in the Wild West. Another point while we are diseas ing the performance of "Hazel Kirke." There were some sitting back in the, , third balcony, whQ need a theatrical guide to aul them in discovering which are the places to weep and which to gur- fle. It was a little embarrassing to Miss lllsler to make a grand dramatic hit, that was supposed to yank loose a fresh et of woe, to be greeted with a snort,4>f demoniac laughter from the rear of the Grand Opera House. It seemed to un nerve her and surprise her, but she kept her balance and her head. When death and ruin and shame and dishonor were pictured in their tragic horror, the wild unfettered humorist of a crude civ ilization fairly yelled with delight. He thought that the tomb and such things were intended to be synonymous with the minstrel show and the circus. He thought that old Dunstan Kirke was there with his sightless eyes to give Lar amie the grandest, riproaringest tem pest of mirth that she had ever experi enced. That is why we say that we will never have a successful performance in the theatrical line till some of this, class are provided with laugh and cry guide books.^--Laram ie Boom erang. Farm Talks. The veteran journalist, Ben. Perley Poore, writes thus pleasantly under the head of "Farm Talks" in the American Cultivator: Keading this morning the report of 'some eulogistic speeches made at a cattle show, it occurred to me that the people of New Englaud do not appre ciate the many obligations to the farm ers, the pomologists, and the gardeners for the additions they have made to the comforts of social life. Three hundred years ago the inhabi tants of this region subsisted by hunt ing and fishing. Their meats were the flesh of the moose, the deer, the wood- chuck, and the squirrel. Fish, includ ing salmon, was then more abundant than it now is, as dams had not barred our streams, or the waste of factories poisoned their waters. There was no fruit, unless it may have been a very tart crab-apple. Nuts of different kinds were abundant. Indian corn, which was about the only agricultural pro duct, was not indigenous, but had been brought from the South, and with diffi culty coaxed to ripen in a Northern lat itude. Thex aborigines plucked the earliest ears with the husks and braided several of them together for the next year's crop. The soil was scraped to gether with the shoulder-blades of a moose, forming a hill in which the corn was planted on an elwive or some other small fish as a fertilizer. Cattle, which were known to the In- .dians, now exist here in every variety, and the best of all varieties. We have the Short-Horn Durhams,^which Com bine the qualities of abundant milk, of easy fattening, of early maturity, and of docility in the yoke; we have the De- vons, an ancient race, brought by the first settlers of the New England coast, and fitted by their milking qualities, for the dairy, by their delicate flesh for the slaughter-house, and by their quickness for farmwork; we have the Ayrsliires, copious givers of milk, strongly inclined to butter, with forms fitted for the but cher ; we have the Alderneys and the Jerseys, charming pets for fancy farm ers, with their rich milk, itself a^dream; and. then we have the Dutch or Hol- stein cattle, the Herefords, the Gallo ways, aud half-a-dozen other fancy- breeds, while some of the good quali ties of every breed have gradually im pregnated ...» the old-fasliioned native stock. The excellence of our cattle is due to the farmers. By judicious cros sing animals are created who convert into milk or beef whatever we may give them; who give an abundance of milk if milk is wanted, an abundance of fat if beef is desired, and who, coming earlier into the dairy pr the market, save a wholes-ear's expense of feeding. When we come to hogs we wonder how the Indians ever existed without them, although our Hebrew friends do not use any portion or product of the "unclean" animal. They also have been greatly improved by careful breeding, and Col. Lincoln, of Worcester, has rendered them immortal by his his re ports on them at cattle-sliows. He has established the fact that pigs are a hap py people. City folks may talk dis paragingly about living like a pig. To live like a pig is to live like a gentleman, Although it is not permitted by the laws of nature that a pig should laugh, Or even smile, he enjoys the next bless ing of humanity--the disposition to grow fat. How easily he goes through the world! He has no fancy stocks to buy, no bank-iiotes to pay. no indig nation meetings to hold. He has no occasion to take the benefit of the bank rupt act, or to have his estates confis cated to defray the expenses of the set tlement. Free from all the troubles that disturb the busy world, he is as un concerned among the changes of the earthly affairs as was the citizen who was awakened in the earliest light of morning by being told day was brjjafc^ ing. " Well," sdid he, as he turned ^gain to his repose, "let day break--he awes me nothing." Then there are the sheep, in all tlieir varieties, which would be an important element in the agricultural wealth of New England if farmers could be pro tected against the miserable curs which infest the country, and which in many sections render it impossible to raise a flock of sheep. It is to be hoped that the day will come when the farmer who pays large taxes, and who has a right to have his property protected by the laws, can visit the pasture- in which he has a llock of sheep without finding some of them killed and others mangled by the worthless hounds of some city fellow-who imagines himself a sports man, and goes about the country knock ing down old fences and killing the small birds so badly heeded- to destroy insects. ' • A Gentleman. A gentleman is one in whom the vig orous and the delicate is happily united The soft, the refined--that which comes from frequenting the society of women of culture---lies in the "gentle;" the strong, the firm, the stern--that which conies from battling with men--lies in the "mangentle" implies the posses sion-of all the social, "man" of all the civil virtues; "man" is the fiery wine, "gentle" the tasteful goblet; "man" is the sharp, correct drawing, "gentle" the warm, soft coloring; "gentle" might be tl ie Sybarite who is disturbed by the falling of a rose leaf; "man" is the Brutus, who, as judge, knows not even bis own child. Pericles, the brave, magnanimous, amiable, refined Athen ian might be offered as an example. of the true gentleman. PITH AJTD POINT. > BArfnF.nuE is from the French words barbe et queue, i. e., equivalent to from "head to tail," as in the formation of the word "oriflamme," from or et flanime. The word "barbecue" was first used in this country8in the Presidential "cam paign of 1840, when at large political gatherings in the open air animals were ^ roasted whole. Go to the lark for high-flown ide«& ONE man's j«pt is another taw's jaun dice. \ IN society, blood and beautjrtell, ai» though both are only skin deep. N A PUBLIC-SPIRITED lady friend refrain^ from wearing corsets because she is op* posed to anything that interferes witll the liberty of the press. WHEN you see a married man hug- ging a wooden Indian in front at a cigar store at midnight, it is a sure sign that there'll be a storm before morning. SA.LT MACKEREL is a new shade for men's clothing. It is probably intend ed for Wet weather wear, as salt mack erel is always ahead of a gum overcoat for keeping a man dry. A SOUTHERN paper advises its readers to place a feather-bed directly beneath a hammock. Presumably not for occu pation, but as an evidenee of good faitlu --Commercial Advertiser. THEY were popping corn in the kitoh- On, and popping corn is pretty work, "Do look," said Jesse, "they go in naked babies, and they come out beautiful snow-white angels and fairies." THE girls of the sunfiy clime describo this world as one of "bustle, toil and care." We agree with them--the wo men have all the bustle, and the meti have the toil an^ care.--Cambridge Tribune. THEY were at a dinner party, and h# remarked that he supposed she wag fond of ethnology. Shi® said she was„ but was not very well, and the doctor had told her not to eat anything for dessert but oranges. « "Do YOU like candy, ma?" asked a little Austin boy of his mother. "No, my son; it makes me deathly sick." "I am glad to hear it. You are the kind of a woman I can trust to hold my candy for me till I'm done playing." SAID Mrs. Gallagher: "I think it is wrong to make these soda fountains sto shiny, white and dazzling. They don't trouble me, but I've observed that my husband can never look at one without winking."--Brooklyn Eagle. "YES," said the gilded youth, "Fred snubbed and cut Jack in a frightful way. Of ^course it was a rude and un civil thing to do, but then there went extenuating circumstances. Jack had been making love to^Fred's wife." THE practical poet of The Boston Post wants to know "why-shouldn't girl have her shoes blacked?" To which the New Haven Register re-* plies: "Don't know anything about Boston girls, but the reason why they cannot in Chicago is because the boot* blacks havn't time." MR. WEIGHT went ont to flsh, And lie became a Wright angler. He thought he would try and catch a shark* And became a try angler. „ He laughed to think how smart he was, And he became a cute angler. • But he did not see the shark with its nose un der the stern of his craft, He was such an obtuse angler. Until the creature tipped oyer his boat. When he became a wrecked angler. -- W kitehall^Times. SOME genius has invented a little ar ticle called a "fire-kindler." Unless it is made in the shape of a coal-oil can, the newly-imported girl will not touch it. If it contains something that will explode and knock the domestic end over end two or three chairs, and burn off her eyebrows without doing any other damage, there may be a large de mand for the "fire-kindler." "HAVE one of my cards," said a drnni- m^r to a friend he met just at dark, as he rescphed down in his pocket and handed him the first card he came across. They walked along till they passed under a gas-post, and then the friend smiled and handed it back. "I thought," said he, "you were in the dry goods* but I see you are selling hardware!" He had handed him the jack of spades.--Evans- ville Argus. "I think a bath daily would be bene ficial in your case," said a physician to a patient. "Well, I don't know, doctor," he feebly replied. "I took a bath once, a year or two ago; I felt better for a while, but it wasn't long before I was just as bad as ever, and I have been growing worse ever since." This is al most equal to the French medical writer, who objected to bathing, be cause it removed the natural secretions of the skin. DURING a Deadwood quarrel the other night a woman was seen to rush be tween the combatants, and throwing herself before one of them exclaimed to the other: "Don't shoot, oh, please don't shoot him!" Greatly affected, the foe lowered his revolver and asked in tremulous tones: "Are you his sweet heart, wife, or sister?" "No," answered the peacemaker, "but this man has a jfoom at mv house and owes me three weeks board." The Gray Head by the Hearth. A private letter'froni a lady who is. spending a year among the peasants or Tyzol, says: The morning after our ar rival, we were awakened by the sound of a violin and flutes under the window, and, hurrying down, found the little house adorned as for a feast,--garlands over the door and wreathing a high chair which was set in state. The table was already covered with gifts, brought by the young people whose music we had heard. The whole neighborhood were kinsfolk, and these gifts came from uncles and cousins in every far-off de gree. They were very simple, for the donors are poor--knitted glove, a shawl, baskets of flowers, jars of f :iit, loaves of bread; but upon all son el rtle message of love was pinned. "Is mere a bride in this house ?" I asked of my landlord. "A^h, nein!" he said. "We do not make such a pother about cur vounaf people. It is the grandmother's Iriyth^ay^ The grandmother in her spiM-tackg, white apron and high velvet Clip, was a iteroine all day, sitting in state to receive visits, and dealing out slices from asweet loaf to each one who came. I could not but remember cer tain grandmothers at home, just as much loved as she, probably, but whose dull, sad eyes were never brightened by any such pleasure as this; and I thought we could learn much from these poor mountaineers.--Youth's Companion. ^7"',^ .Compliments. "If I owned that land of yours," sug gested a florid gentleman bubbling over with good advice, "I'd cut it up in building lots, sell 'em and make enough to live easy the rest of my life." "And if I was sure you had as much faculty to manage your own business as you have faculty to give advice to others, I wonld lend you that $1,500 you asked for yesterday." And the train rolled on and the florid gentleman changed hit seat. . THE cost of the French squadron of evolution in the Mediterranean is esti? mated at $29,000,000. The pay of the officers and crew is $4,000 a day. And this in profound peace.