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fr- * ClflK MJkZFSSU NKASRAFER' MICnMdwniiTinm not heed Uwra when I IN. ' *i. fi S1^,<*,>-' * •.*-<- \. *' tr: £4 «•" .' * tv -fc * 1"""- -. % • > * ' ' ' ' t ^ Mr wands »h*H dimity: • >, ': SttaMMMM'k Intot rain; J/ " • torn* the daftfcday* pain. r* .?r TMERTLMIAIILHN«MM II - tender warmth on that moand of mine; ftMir or Mar in jammer air, n Clover and violet blomom there. •-.*• IhdlMtlwl, ta tint dMp-Wd rest, light tall over my breast, e in those hidden honrs wind-blown breath of the tossing flofp> ftoOMr or W«r the stainless snows Shall add their hush to my mnte repose!'I, * ioOnttor later stall slant and shift, j.'"- ; •rAnd hea;i my bed with the dazzling ftooacror later the bee shall come t »» - i | fill the noon with its trol len hum; , / >ner 6r later, on half-poised wing,. ii'." lie bluebird's warble ab nt me ring-- ' injr and chirrup, and whistle with glejf'f httDMo means to me; of these beautiful things shall •/-Harriet P. dly toe) '. Spojfft rord. 'i1 WANTED--A DAUGHTER* *' '"An actress, sir ? TSffrerf said Mr. ' Philander , Greentreein A voice that made the windows rattle in their frames: . r .>• v.- •• And "Never" echoed liis me*k little wife, bul in so faint a tone that it didn't IBstiirbin the least the fly that was sit­ ting on one of the pretty white puffs On her jletiV old head. '* " *" And if you persist in being in love with the young WOinan, von must cease to be an inmate of my house," shouted Mr. Green tree, "Jnid^ if you marry her, by heavens! I'll scratch you." * /V "Yes, we'll be obliged to scratch you," idded the old Jady as mildly as she hadt spoken before, looking at the same tirrtre as though it would be utterly impossible for her to scratch any one tinder any circumstances whatever. Not that they meat scratching in the common sense of the word; scratching the yonng man's name, from his uncle's will was the punisKment they threatened. "And Fll never give you a penny," . . thundered Uncle Philander. "Oli, William, think of that!--not •Ten a penny," said Aunt Tamasin. „ "And I'll adopt a girl--I will, by heavens!" the old man went on, grow­ ing more and more angry every minute. **No more ungrateful boys for me. And she'll marry to please us, and her children shall be our grandchildren." ,, 1 ^ "My dear boy, consider," entreated the old lady. "How dreadful, how very dreadful, for us to have strange grand­ children." "Uncle and aunt--I suppose I must call you mother and father no longer," ^-"•aid the young man, slowly and firmly --"I am truly sorry to vex- you, but I have pligbtea my faith to Miss Field­ brook, ana I cannot and will not break it. She Is an actress, but as good and' lovely a girl as ever trod the earth--, sweeter and lovelier tfian any girl it lias, been arf lot to meet. Andif you would only allow me to bring her here--" "Bring her here!" repeated his uncle, stamping about the room in his rage. Here, where your mother--I mean your aunt Tamasin---has lived in quiet, vir- gio--I mean quiet, holy--I mean quiet- • ' ili giinsiisy' iiii!, but nearly half a oeeAeqrf Mow dare y<m even think of •neb a filing, sir? An actress capering around ..-these apartments! Good r t* i . "Twouldn't be exactly right, Wil­ liam, you know," saic ̂aunt TainasmJ *1 never, was a capsrer, and atPmy time of life I don't think I could garfRued to i one. I don't, indeed." "Oh, you dear, funny old mother-- auntie--* began Will, with a smile, but encountering his uncle's wrathful eyes and frowning brow,- he grew serious -again, and said: "Well," if you postive- ly refuse to receive Eva, I suppose we must part. I am very, very thatdrfhl for all you have done for me sinoe I» was left a fatherless and motherless boy; but give up the woman I love for a thoroughly unreasonable prejudice of yours I cannot and will sot. And ao good-by. Uncle, will you shake hands with me?" "No, I won't," replied Mr. Greentree, - ^Jh-usquely. 4, "Aunt, will you let me kiss 700?" * 1 "Of course I will, my dear boy," sai<r i;f Mrs. Greentree, "And if you change ? your mind, come back to us directly. We start for Greentree Cottage in'a few days, you know, and I shall keep jour room ready for you there all sum- ^ met." - . "No, don't, auntie, dear," kissing her Sot once, but three or four times, "for I shall not change my mind, and perhaps being one of the prettiest rooms in the house, my room may be chosen by your adopted daughter. * And I hope' from |he bottom of my heart that she may „ yj^pend as many happy hours there as I * l|ave. Good-by. Good-by, fath--uncle." But Uncle Philander answered not fry look or word, and as the hall door closed after his nephew, he exclaimed P I ilgain: "An actress! By heavens' the toy's gone mad, and I wash my hands ^ ,v Of him forever." "Don't say forever," begged Aunt ^Tamasin. "Forever's a long time--a •ery long time, Philander. And, oh h dear! how I shall miss him! Such a :*#?••-.food child as he has always been ever aince he came to us fifteen years ago! fes i* Better in some things even than you, ^ Philander; for you know you always say bad words when I lose my specta- tM,cles, which he never did, but looked for tV . v them time and again with the patience - of an angel." And taking eff said spec- |v .tacles, she proceeded to lose them once more bv laying them on the back of the . sofa, whence they dropped to the floor, behind it, where, with the dreadful "de- % • pravitT of inanimate things," they re- - ^rfWunea snugly hidden, while she wept siletitly in her large lemon-verbeua- j acented silk handkerchief. ' , A few days after Will Greentree Kfi^Hiem "good-by" the old. cpupJe anttui* Stalled for the summer se&son in their1 comfortable country house, Greentree ^iOottage. ' And to Greentree_Cottage came, before they had been there a Week, this note from one of their oldest and most intimate friends: NEW YORK, Jane 20,1883. My Dear Tamasin and Philif&der--You told me, you will remember, just as you were leaving the eity, that you would like to re- •oelve into your home this summer some voung gill--ttie more friendless the better lor yctur purpose--with a view, should she gMrove lovable and entertaining, to adopt her. Strange a* It may appear, you had not been jgone mom than two hours when I met a yovag girt who I think will suit you to a She to pretty, of cheertul disport- I hare ipo*en%ohsr about you* WWI, andahe topwrfectly w«lli»g-«y, amdo«»-> to ebma to you. Ana I am sore her oo«a- Bpalito wttl add to your hspptnem, aari yWifotorgefe thedlaObedtonoe o« fftv fflManhev. Anyhow, reeeira h«c asa«UTaTBirr«Mtformy sake, for I tovad and lost her mother; that Is, die married the ether chap. Faithfully yoan, Jusm tPmu. Mr. Greentree ̂ face brightened as. he read this note. "There, inv A he said, handing it to his wife, "To --he always was the beat and most liable old chum afellow ever had--haN already found our daughter. For this girl will certainly please us, being heartily approved of by him. Pjretfcv, clever, and cheerful." ? "Yes, so he says," said his wife he needn t have called poor WAa bad names, for all that. And I fw't give her the boy's room. There's so many trousers and boots and base l>all and fishing things in it, that couldn't be of the slightest use to her, and Would only be in her way." "Do as you like abont that, my dear," rejoined Mr. Greentree, who, to tell the truth, was secretly pining for the dis­ carded one, and anxious to have some young life in the cottage; "but see that the room she is to have is got ready immediately, for I shall telegraph to Townly to send her at once." And he did. And the result of the telegram was that the very nest morn­ ing Miss Zerelda Ardemann made liet best courtesy to the old lady and gen­ tleman who wanted a daughter. An never were an elderly couple so quickly and entirely bewitched by any fair maidens were Philander and Tanjasrh OjpGjgMtree by this same violet- eyed, golden-naired, sweet-voiced, pret­ ty Zerelda Ardemann. And as day followed day, and .week followed week, she becfroe more and More dear to them. She went through the house from morn until eve, warb- ling like a bird, and when evening came e sat at the old-fashioned piano and the quaint "old English ballads !Tamasin used to sing in her youth, wtjjle Philander, brave in swalMw-tail- ed* T^ps-buttoned blue coat turned the ^pages of the music with Ijentie hand. Irihe tripped lighly over field and meadow every day, and culled the loveliest of wiid flowers, which with a grace that was her own she arranged in vases and shells, and whatever she could find to hold them, until each room looked like a fairy bower. - * And many a beautiful poem she re­ peated with rare skill in the gloaming, bringing the happy tears to the eyes pi her delighted listeners... "Ah! if Will had only made her his choice!" the old lady would say to her husband at least a dozen tifries a day. - ^ "By heavens! if he had," that impul­ sive individual would say, "he wouldn't have waited long for my blessing." The summer passed pleasantly, very pleasantly, away, and the advent of au­ tumn found Mr. and Mrs. Greentree more in love than ever, if that were pos­ sible, with their charming guest. "And do you think you would like us well enough to call us' father and moth­ er, and to promise that when you give your whole heart to some one else you will not forsake us V" asked Mrs. Green­ tree of Zerelda one sunny September day. "I know I could--I know I do," an­ swered the girl, emphatically. "But I have a confession to make to you that I fear will turn you from me." "My deat, it must be something very terrible to do that. But make it at once, and have it over. Philander! Philander f Zerelda has something to tell us which she feaxs will make us love her less. Please^jcome and hear it." Philander dropped the newspaper he was reading on the porch, and stepped into the dining-room through the open window. Zerelda stood in the center of the room with drooping head, but as soon as he entered she tossed back the little ringlets that tried to shade the brightness of her eyes, placed her two little hands in the lace-trimmed pockets of her dainty apron, danced lightly across to whore the old couple were now seated side by side, and said, in a voice fraught with innocent cheeriness: "After all, what I have to tell isn't so ve™ bad. I have amttsed you both since I came here, haven't I? And I can go away at once if you wish me to go." And tfien, dropping gracefully on one knee, and folding her hands in pretty entreaty, she said: "Please,shr, and please, ma'am, I am an actress, and my stage name is Eva Fieldbrook. But all that your friend Mr. Townly told you about me is true." "An actress!' exclaimed Mr. Phil-; ander Greentree. "Eva Fieldbrook!" said his wife. "Then you are the girl that Will-- began the old man. - "That Will--" repeated the old lady. "That Will--the same," replied Zerelda, demurely, still kneeling. Please forgive me for beisg that girl.7 But Mr. Greentree, without an­ other word, bounced from his chair antj tore out of the room. Zerelda sprang to her feet. "I'd better l egin packing a^ once," she said, with a serious face. "I'nj sorry to have vexed him so much. But indeed it wasn't my scheme at all. Mr} Townly and Will made it up between them. They thought that if you knew me you would--" ^ j "And we do," interrupted the old lady, laying her hand lightly on hei arm to detain her. "-Don't you do anyt thing in haste, my dear. You don't un» stand Mr. Greentree as well as I do, Sometimes when he seems most an gr it he is most pleased. Pm sure he don'{ want you to go away." t "Of course he don't. Who said hq did?" asked the old gentleman, entering the room hastily again. I've just sen! a telegram to Will telling him impori tant business calls him here. That'q another name for you, my dear--impori tant business. Not as pretty as eithef of the others, but we'll find a fourtl} before we get through that will suit yoq best of all--Zerelda Greentree. How do you like that ?" "And I shan't have grandchildren thq least bit strange after all," said Aunt Tamasin, a bright smile lighting up her dear good old -face. --Harper's Weekly: FIM8T Btlftttt OF PULL RUN. ' (aditMita of m Wkoaoi aM«> Ftgkt--Ttn> Death ' «r*tn. J«mri ewey. The plateau on which the battle was tough t<m the 91st of July, 1861, says a lata wHlter, had long been the peaceful borneofa number of families, among Wjipm wet* Mrs. Judith Henry, James Bobĵ on, the Chinns, and'illo or three more. The family of Mrs Henry con­ sisted of herself, a daughter, Miss El­ len, and two sons, only one of the sons being then at home with his infant family. Miss Ellen Henry is still liv­ ing, an amiable and courteous lady of the real Virginia type, and, though up­ wards of 60 years of age, there is some­ thing almost ethereal in her form and manner which plainly tells the visitor that in tap youth she was a lovely wo­ man. Cow is an intellectual woman, ed in all that goes to make American lady, and has been for years the social center of the At the time of the bat- was 85 years of age and an invalid if bed, not able to be remov­ ed from j|pfe house, and it was around Mrs. Henry's house that the fury of the first fight raged hottest all the long summer day. Then, close to Mrs. Henry's door, fell the Confederate Gen­ eral Bee and Colonels Bartow and Fisher; right in her doorway Griffin's battery was lost and retaken three times in a hand-to-hand fight, every one of the gunners being killed at the guns before it was given up. No pen can describe the frenzied madness of the scenes there enacted, as iregiment after regi­ ment came to the support of the guns, determined never to yield them to the Federals. Tvler and Heintzelman and Hunter, with their divisions, were in the fight from daylight till 4 o'clpok in the afternoon. 5 Men went forward in the Intense heat of noon to grapple for half an hour *rith the foe, when their places would be filled by others, and they Would fall back into the shade and $ie of mere Exhaustion, their tongues protruding and their faces black as charcoal. The young, the brave and the good of our country lay in their blood on the field, while wounded horses galloped madly over them, screaming with terror and mad with pain. The bands were scat­ tered about the field, some attending to the wounded, others seeking to hide irf the thickets from the storm of shot and shell which was raging all around. Thus the hours wore on. Here were nearly 30,000 men toiling in the work of butchery, while the Sab­ bath day was passing and their friends at home were engaged in the worship of God. Miss Ellen Henry never once left the bedside of her aged mother, though the house was pierced by hun­ dreds of bullets, and in her anxiety for her parent all fears of her own safety seem to have been lost. The house was situated on the hijjh level of the field, and Griffin's battery was near it, carry­ ing death and destruction into the Con­ federate ranks. This was the center of the fight, and on this devoted battery. was concentrated the fire of the Con­ federate artillery, as well as the atten­ tion of both armies. This, indeed, was the key to the whole position, and when this was lost the battle was irretrievably lost. More than 600 men lay dead at 3 o'clock on a square of two acres of ground. It was an open field, and a square, hand-to-hand, well-contested, stand-up fight. • Mrs. Judith Henrv was killed in her bed by a shell which burst in the room and mangled her most dreadfully. Her daughter and son both escaped un­ harmed almost at her side. The house, which was almost a ruin, has since been torn down and rebuilt. The grave of Mrs. Henry, on the west side of the yard, with the monument in front of the house, gives the place a sad and desolate appearance. The rough head­ stone has been removed, and a tomb­ stone with this inscription placed where she is buried: The grave of our dear Mother, Judith Henry. Killed near this spot by the explosion of shells in her dwelling during the Dattle on the 21st of July, 1861. When killed she was in her 85th year and confined to her bed by infirmities of age. She was the daughter of JLouden Carter, Sr., and was born within a mile of this place. Her husband. Dr. Isaac Henry, was a surgeon in the United States Navy, on board the frigate Constellation, commanded by Commodore Truxton, one of the six captains appointed by Washing­ ton in the organization of the navy, 1794. This estimable lady, who had spent here a long life, illustrated by the graces that adorn the meek Christian, was now bed-ridden. There she lay amid the horrid din, and no less than three of the missiles of death that scoured through her chamber inflicted wounds upon her. It seems a strange dispensation of Providence that one whose life, so gentle and secluded, should have found her end amid such a storm of linman possions, and that the humble abode which had witnessed her quiet pilgrimage should have been shattered over her dying bed. Yet, amid such terrors heaven vindi­ cated its laws. When the combatants had retired the aged suffer was still alive, and she lived long enough to say that her mind was tranquil and that she died in peace--a peace that the roar of battle and the presence of death panopUed in all his terrors had not disturbed! The breed of ( quite extinct in however, haa itants the ha such unobsti about tiiis time, and probably few were made at the end of the seventeenth century, (Hmt Story. ( ts appear to be rttit land yet. Seldom,' e shadowy vis-, >d to expose itself tq and point-blank in­ vestigations as did the phantom whieh introduced itself the other day to .Mr., C G , the son of the well-known, Admiral C G----. One day at the beginning cf this month Mr. C ' G was going to cai i on the Duke of R at B---- castle, and he probably did not trouble his head much about things hereafter, when lie .found him­ self at a small country station, some miles from his destination, with no ve­ hicle to get him over the muddy coun­ try lanes in between. After worrying around a bit, however, he succeeded in hiring a trap--a common-place dog­ cart enough, with nothing ghostly al>out it--and a horse that looked as if with good management, it might hang together in this life for a few weeks yet. Not a man could be found who would accompany him to look after the beast; so, having done grumbling, Mr. C G took the reins himself and started for B castle. Nor was there anything to suggest ghosts in the drive there; and the Duke of R was as real and fleshy as a well-conducted Duke ought to be. So far, then, the odds seemed all against a ghost finding room to come into the day's events. When Mr. C---- G----, however, had got half-way back to the station he passed a pond by the roadside which he had not noticed on his way. Turning round to look at it, he was astonished to find that there was another man on the trap, sitting back to back to him-, sett. The stranger was to all appear­ ances a farm laborer, dressed in cordu-' roy and red neck-cloth. Mr. C 1 G at once concluded that his corn's panion had been sent after him by the inn-keeper from whom he had hired the trap; but what puzzled him was how and where a stout farm laborer in hob­ nailed boots could have elimed up with­ out his feeling it. The shortest way to settle this was to ask him; but, unfor­ tunately the intruder paid no attention to the question, and seemed quite un­ conscious of anything when Mr. C G shouted commonplaces on the weather at the top of his voice. Nothing remained, therefore, but to whip up the dilapidate^ horse and while away the rest of the journey with cursing the inn­ keeper who could find no better man to send him than a deaf and dumb farm laborer. On arriving at the inn Mr. C G Banded the reins back to the stranger and walked into the house. Meeting the landlord his first remark was naturally on the sort of man the other had seen fit to send after him. "What man?" was the reply; "I sent no man after you." "Surely you did," said Mr. 0---- G -, "a man in corduroy, with a red scarf round his neck." "Good God, sir" returned the other, "that man was drowned an hour ago, and is up-stairs now!" "Nonsense. He is on your trap now; come and see." However, he was not in the trap; that was empty. So Mr. C-*-- G follow­ ed the landlord up-stairs, and there on a bed lay his companion of the dog-cart --cordury, red neck-cloth and all-- dead. He had been found drowned half an hour before G passed, in the Tery pdronbse by which he had taken his seat in the dog-cart, and had apparently availed himself of the first passing vehicle to get a lift to the place where his body lay I mnrRtfjli HIM. --T~~ ! At the Dentist's. "Doctor, you have pulled out all the good teeth and left the bad ones ?" "That's so, but I have a reason for it. There is always plenty of time to take out the bad ones. As for the others, they would have finished by becoming bad and jrould have given you trouble. A false set will never bother you--and besides, it's fashionable to have them; thqg dor^t wear anything else nowa- i!"---French Paper. Jton, tolerably well educated, and naturally JMNEjretemr: b an orphan and (her prand- SMthac and only relative, with whom she lived, having died three weeks ago) home- A YOUNG married couple at James-' town, N. Y„ thought to name their first boy after two grandfathers, but on look­ ing the matter over they concluded not to do it, as the name would be Jesse James. 01 ̂Clocks. The old brass clocks went only thirty hours, and were set in motion by a weight attached to a chain which passed over a sheave having spikes in the groove which caught in links of the chain and required to be drawn up every day. There was a counterpoise at the other end of the chain, and sometimes a single weight was contrived to serve both the going and the striking parts, and there was occasionally an alarm.. On the introduction of the long pendulum, clocks seemed to have as­ sumed a different character. Catgut was substituted for the chain, and bar­ rels were introduced on which the cat­ gut was wound up, and, a greater length of line being employed, clocks were made to go for eight days instead of thirty hours, and a chime of bells playing every quarter of an hour was often added; the weights and lon$ pendulum hung down, and, as there, was danger* of their action beiiy^intgfe; fered with, tall wooden car"- ^ made to protect them, on which the movement was pi was probably the origin and date the tall, upright clock cases, which- were often made of ornamental woods and enriched with fine marquetry. We have one in mind, an early marquetry case, made in 1690, by Thomas Tom- pion, with a beautiful set of chimes;* and it is an admirable timekeeper, •though it „ has only the original iron pvire for the pendulum rod; and simi­ lar instances are numerous. The ear­ lier cases are made of oak and walnut, jche mahogany cases being of the follow­ ing century, when the wood was intro­ duced. The brass "button and pillar" clocks seem to have gone out of use - - • ---I-. /• " Oar Millionaires. ft i* a curious ciruinstance Hat wealth concentrates in few hands more readily in this than any other country on earth. We have followed out thq traditions of Jefferson in this country, and given every one an equal chance in the making of money, upon the theory that this would result in an equalizing of fortunes. To help to bring about this desirable result our laws call for an equal division of property on the death of the parent. But unrestricted competition has not borne out the claim of the Declaration of Independt ence that "all men are equal." The facts of the last fifty years show that opportunity, brains, and unscrupulous* ness will enable individuals, within a short lifetime, to gather to themselves enormous sums of money, which, nndef different institutions, would be diffuseq among the masses of the people. France, for instance, is a very rich country, but, outside of the Rothschild family, has very few millionaires. It has a poor ana frugal working class, but the great bulk of the French peo* pie belong to what is known as the "middle class," and are well-to-do. Iij Great Britain there are greater com trasts of wealth and poverty, but fact| recently published go to show that thq number of very rich is not large. It iq safe to say there have been moire mil* lionaires created in the United States since the beginning of the civil wax than have been developed by a century of banking, manufacturing, and trading in Great Britain. There are no single fortunes in England comparable to those of Yanderbilt, Gould, Mackay, Flood! the Astor and Stewart estates, an4 probably fifty others which might be mentioned. The great fortunes in Eng. land have been aggregating--some o| them--for centuries; eurs date back to the first year of the civil war, when vast accumulations were rolled up in contracts for supplying our armies. Then the Jeffersonian theory, which said to the government "Hands off," left the transportation field open to the monopolist. Our railway magnates have taxed the public, the government declining to interfere until very re­ cently; but our highest court has at length decided that the nation is su­ preme, and has a right to supervise railway passenger and freight charges. The freedom of our institutions had been vastly more advantageous to the capitalist than the poor workman. Should the present tendencies continue, the middle of the twentieth century see' the United States with a vast laboring'-'ppnulat ion, a small middle "jaipnd hundred millionaires, u ,0 will monopolize the great bulk of "property of the country. But the signs of the times indicate that before the close of this century the people of the United States will make suoh changes in our institutions as will dis­ courage vast Accumulations of property in a few hands.--Jigmorest's Monthly Bow a BNOghl 1 Co*. Whd«l|>MlTlw». I drove Kennedy kept the State of Kentucky at bay for nearly a year, de­ populated ft watering-plaoe, scared the Governor out of his boots, laughed at life and bullied all the courts of the Commonwealth for two years. We saw him in Lancaster, a fine-looking fellow of perhaps 88, with dark hair and beard and fine bright eyes, with a genuine humorous sparkle in them. He is a typical dangerous man. He comes of a family that kill. They die gener­ ally booted and armed. They came to Kentucky with Daniel Boone and own­ ed 20.000 acres of garden land in this Eden of Kentucky. They began by killing Indians and have never got over it. Old Eb Kennedy was Grove's un­ cle and foster father. In 1877 they quarreled and had a lawsuit. After old Eb had given his testimony in court he insulted Grove and walked out. Grove oalmly went out on the balcony and as his uncle walked down the sidewalk drew a bead on the old man with a shot-gun and sent the whole case to a higher court. The charge went in be­ hind the ear and generously came out all over the old man's countenance. Grove was arrested without resistance and afterwards escaped. For six months he was at large. The Govern­ or offered a large reward for the .out­ law's capture. The reward was large enough to invite the approval of Geo. W. Hunter, of Bardstown, popularly known as "Marshal" Hunter. Hunter is the coolest and most determined man in Kentucky, a small, square-jawed man, with quick, gray eyes and little hands that have a grip of iron. I asked Hun­ ter once what was the secret of his suc­ cess." "Well," he said, "you always get the drop on a man and, if he don't do what you want, shoot." Hunter disappeared from Bardstown after the reward had been offered for Kennedy. This was published and Kennedy at once disappeared from Crab Orchard. Then it was that all chivalrous Kentucky awoke to the thrill of a man hunt. The pursued and pursuer left not a trace behind them. It was a match of courage and skill against courage and desperation, and the State waited for the result. Days and weeks rolled by and nothing was heard. One dav in October, ho^eyer, the rumor came that Grove Kennedy had been Captured alive. Next day the State was aflame with the news. Hun­ ter had gone to Grove Kennedy's house and patiently waited for him to turnup. Secreted in the woods with some trusty followers, prepared to fight Kennedy and his crowd, he never wearied. One morning Hunter, sheltered be­ hind the stable, saw the outlaw coming for his horse. They had never met. As Grove walked up, Hunter covered hiin with a revolver, and, stepping from behind the corner of the stable, quietly said: "Throw up your hands." "What for ?" said the outlaw, as he paused and considered the prudence of reaching for his pistol. "For your life," answered Hunter, point blank. "You are Marshal Hunter?" inquired Kennedy, as calmly and cooly as the other. "Yes." "Then I surrender." ------ The outlaw then devoted his ener­ gies to amusing lrfmself with the law. He had half a dozen trials and convic­ tions, and kept the Court of Appeals busy reversing decisions and ordering new trials. The military had to be ordered out to protect the court. One day he called upon a newspaper corres­ pondent in court and quietly calling his attention to an error in the report said: "If that ain't corrected and fair reports sent out I'll kill you as soon I get out of here." He was finally convicted in 1880, and had been in the penitentiary for about three years when pardoned. When he was first sent np he was very disobedient and troublesome, but that soon disappeared and he won his par­ don by good behavior. He was sentenced for twenty-one years. "Whisky was the cause of all my cussedness," said the released outlaw. My uncle brought me np to fight any man that insulted me, and go armed. That was-what caused his death. But I have qjiit drinking liq[Uor now, and if get a chance I am going to behave myself." Canada ̂Magnificent Territory. "In regard to the steady and spon­ taneous growth of the northwest terri­ tory, not in Manitoba alone, but all a'ong the line of the Canada Pacific t lilway, it can only be said to be beyond orecedent in the history of the world. The soil is inexaustible. Last year over .'$0,000 emigrants from Ontario and the States settled 011 the free grants of land given to actual settlers. These pioneers cook over $10,000,000 into that section, and expended this money in the devel­ opment of farm lands. Tnere are, to my personal knowledge-, extensive coal districts in the valley of the Saskatche­ wan and at Edmonton, though as yet al­ most entirely undeveloped. Ah, it is a magnificient country, and the coming century will see it the home of millions of free, prosperous and enlightened peo­ ple." But is not the climate very severe in the far northwest?" "Not in comparison with the climate of the Atlantic coast. As you move westward upon the Pacific slope, warm southern winds sweep over those bound­ less plains from April to October, and vegitation is so rapid as to be almost tropical in its luxuriance. I have seen abundant crops of wheat, oats, and bar­ ley harvested in less that four month after seed-sowing. In the Manitoba region, as you well know, the climate changes ^pry rapidly, and the short but severe Winter there experienced has been the only obstacle to its settlement. Yet, for all that; the city of Winnipeg has sprung into a prosperous condition, and is now the leading city of southern British America.--Cor. Chicago ,Her­ ald. it- > %•. r • 'W" •-"i'" mm FTRA AIM FOIST. Befuses to Pay, The Philadelphia patent medicine manljriio agreed to pay $250 to have an adVwtiseuient of his nostrum painted o»' the great pyramid of Cheops, in Egypt, now refuses to settle with the man who did the job, and ~ * " will be the result. lw stratts. In w^ole Us two were gone to L _ " -needed cash dJShi "They were to days, and had left live on in the morning ouT'bill and - .of yiwmce, ig cos^Mniona to powntto the upon * banker's in. whole of ii I Out of Money. To be out of money in a ctflfetry where scarcely a native, much less a foreigner, can find anything to do to get his bread, is a serious matter, as tfie -eader can judge. Bayard Taylor in liis young and enterprising days went through Europe living "from hand to mouth," and occasionally he found M^^deThis a^m islhe treasurer" self in such a dilemma. ' Some readers will remember his sto­ ry of his predicament at Lyons, when a letter (long waited for) came, with money in it to replenish his empty pocket, but with fourteen sous postage due on it! and he was forced to contrive a stratagem to borrow a franc of his landlady before he could get ftfe had about fohr ctasie rthree cents) a day left for mj meaĵ and by spending one of these for bjnei liUtiM remain­ der for ripe figs (of which one crazie will {rarcnase 4fteeP or twenty), and roasted chestnuts, I managed to make a diminutive breakfast and dinner, but was careful not to take much exercise, on account of the increase of hunger. As it happened, my friends remained two days longer than I had expected, and the last two crazie I had were ex­ pended for one day's provisions. I then decided to try the next day without anything, and actually felt a curiosity to know what one's sensation would be on experiencing two or three days of starvation. I knew that if the feeling should become insupportable, I could easily walk out to the mountain of Fiesole, where a fine fig-orchard shades the old Roman amphitheater. But the experiment was broken off at its commencement by the. arrival of the absent ones, in the middle of the fol­ lowing night. Such is the weakness of human nature, that on finding I should not want for breakfast, I arose from bed and ate the two or three remaining figs, which by a strong exertion X had saved from the scanty allowance of the day. •. ' William Chambers' Purpose. Chambers' Journal was the precur­ sor in Great Britain of the extraordi­ nary number of popular periodicals which now place entertainment and in­ struction within the reach of every class. It was, at least, the first periodical of high character which the poorest la­ borer or artisan could afford to buy. Other miscellanies existed before it, but they were conducted on no definite plan, and consisted for the most part of unauthorized and disjointed extracts from books, dippings from floating lit­ erature, old stories and musty jokes. Pondering over the growing taste for cheap literature which he observed, the late William Chambers determined to take advantage of it. He saw that one great end had not been reached. Such periodicals as then existed had a sort 6f official inflexibility attaching to them, and were linked to political or ecclesi­ astical parties. The strongholds of ignorance, though not unassailed, remained to be carried, and William Chambers proposed to do battle by presenting knowledge in its most cheering and captivating aspect. His brother Robert refused to approve of the undertaking, not from want of sympathy with the object, but from want of faith in the result. "Let us," said William to him, "en­ deavor to give a reputable character to what is at present mostly mean and trivial." Robert seemed to doubt that the public was prepared for so radical a change. William went on with his plan alone, and Chamber's Journal was first pre­ sented to the public on February 4,1832. In a few days there was in Scotland the unprecedented sale of 50,000 copies, and at the third number, when copies were consigned to an agent in London, for dispersal through England, the sale rose to 80,000 at which point it long re­ mained. The Journal is generally regarded as the first of cheap magazines in Great Britain, for Charles Knight's Penny Magazine did not appear until six weeks later, but in the United States the Youth's Companion was already six years old when William Chambers issued his first number. It was the purpose of William Cham- •bers from the first to make whatever he published a means of moral as well as intellectual education. He was true to the dreams of his youth. He published nothing that did not tend to make the readers better at heart and in life. He consecrated his trust, and made it a power. He did not live for himself. Says a writer of him: "If leisure, affluence and his high estate eante to him after the hard struggles of his early days, and the wise enterprise of his opening manhood, they came as the reward of a definite and undevi- ating purpose, followed forth with rare consistency and discretion. They came. toor as the concomitants of unselfish aims. To the latest hour of his life, his talents, liis diligence, his influence, were given without interruption to pro­ mote the well-being of his fellows." Truly the world needs editors and book-makers with strong aims like this to feed its life and thought; to quicken its conscience, to make broader its moral vision, and to prepare the way for the generation to come.-- Youth's Companr ion. , The Sunday-School Picnic. It is a glad picnic party. The Sua- day-scfeool had gone out into the leafy forest. The dark object in the heavens,. 800 miles wide tmd 8,000 miles wide,, is a cloud. It got to the woods as soon as the picnic, and is there yet. Undex the great oak you can see the dinner. The large winter-proof mound in mid­ dle of the table sullenly laughing at the storm is a fruit cake. The teacher of the infant class made it herself for the little ones. But the storm saved them. See, the lightning struck the cake. It will never strike anything else. There stands the cake, without a dent,, andl trader the table, shattered and blighted, lies the thunderbolt. Under the cedar tree is a dying dog. He got in the way and the superintendent felled him to the earth with one blow of a biscuit. The tali figure wrapped in the ghostly drapery of a water-soaked linen-duster, leading the way to the cars, is the teacher of the young ladies' Bible-class. His influence with that class is gone forever.' The young ladies will never be able to look at him again without thinking how he looked on this occa­ sion. Up in the hickory tree you see a grief-stricken face peering down. It is the superintendent. He climbed up there to fix the swing, and before they could throw him the rope the storm came up and the picnic adjourned sine die and sine mora. And he is waiting for the last straggler to disappear be­ comes he comes down. He >as offici­ ated at Sunday-school picnics often enough to know better than slide down a sheelbark hickory tree befoi'e an audience. The man with an umbrella i the treasurer. He is Vetting drenched, but he does not raise his umbrella. He knows there is a name painted in the inside of it, but for the life of him h<> cannot remember whose name it is. He is watching liis oh&nce to give the umbrella to a stranger.--Burlington Hawktg•. VJ.?. -• M a. lawsuit I letter, I He relates another incidents r'V < • of simi- - ,%Vr'a * ' THE mania for adulteration is so great that you can't buy a pound of sand and be sure that it is not half sugar, the child die ander circumstances ?" asked the coroner of _ witness. "No, sir, it did not. It under the back porch. "I HAVE a bright prospect before megj* said the loafer. "You always wuQl have," remarked Fogg; "I don't thinf| you will ;ever catchup to it."--Boaiatn Transcript. A TODITO blood, afflicted with .a rible stutter, enters an English r ^ macy. "I wa-wa-want," says he, "some p-p-p-pills of ip-ip-ip-ip--" "Hurrah!* cries the impatient clerk, and the blood flies. P "I DECLARE !" exclaimed Mrs. Tidnicjp - *'I never saw a girl like Our Sarak Jane. I worked almost two hull days on her new batlnn' dress, and don't yon think, she got it wringin' wet the fuHHi^ time she put it o*!" ELDERLY philanthropist, to small boji who is vainly striving to pull a door* bell above his reach: "Let me help you, my little man." (Pulls the bell!) " Small boy--"Now you had better ru% or we'll both get a licking!" ti" JOHN QUINCY ADAMS made it a NI»J to be on time to a-minute, and in this way ho lost hundreds of valuable hours waiting for other people. A man whitf has been waited for is always mora welcome.--Detroit Free Press. •• \ AN exchange sighs for the good old days when they "blew a horn for din­ ner." The exchange can have all tli«| diet it wants, but for us a little iced tea, chicken and vegetables fit the com- . plexion better.--Carl Pretzel's Weeklf. .v THERE are some girls so awfully nice that they will not dance with a fellow in a ball-room if his hair sticks up on - the back of his head. The same girl may be seen at the age of 31 looking in seven different directions for a husband. FATHER to his from-the-university- back-returning-son--"Well, thou hasti of course, no debts?" Son--"Three thousand marks." Father--"What! 3,000 marks?" Son--"Well, art thoil net proud that thy son so great a credit hath ?"--Translated from the OmnibuJtl. "I DON'T want no rubbish, no fine sentiments, if you please," said the wid­ ow who was asked what kind of an epi­ taph she desired for her late husbands - tombstone. "Let it be simple. Some­ thing like this: 'William Johnson, aged 75 years. The good die young.'" j "ALLIOATOBS," writes Dr. Henshall tpf the Forest and Stream, "may be par­ tially tamed." This statement cannot induce us to attempt the domestications of alligators, however. It is the part that cannot be tamed that would likely to chew you up sometime when you're not looking. "By JOVE!" exclaimed Adolphus, stroking the capilliary suggestions oi\ his superior lip, "the fellows say that ja , mustache hides the expression of a fellow's face, and they're all going tO shave before taking part in our theatri­ cals." "How fortunate!" was the sym-. . pathetic reply of Julia,; Won^, have to shave, will you ?" _ v ^ BIBTH-MABXS. . ,, ^-P'-:""L"' Born in Boston, Too much brains; Born in New York, All for gains: Born in Hartford, All for races; - Born in St. Louis, Famed for heat: - Born in Chicago, ; The world to heat { : v Born in UilwauUeu, ' "> Go to tne ba<l, sur , Born in Indianapoli^' Past water-c*re; Born in Richmond, Handsome, yon bell Born in Whitehall, Handsomer yet; Born in New Orleans Never back* out; . Born in Cincinnati, Often flooded out; Born in Philadalphii Proud of one's bf Born in Yonkers, Owns all the eartl#' Born In Fall River, jj; Bonnd to advance }"• Born in Memphis, Kills at a glance; Born In Peoria, Rich as a Jew; Born in Buffalo, Will baat one's way tbnmgbj Born in Detroit. Is A Number One, Born in Providence, Loves a nootl pun; Born in the land of the minny rihMt "•v '*•? i - i v % ^ V i S - . R>L * , Retorts. A cat and an Irishman are always ready. If puss falls from any height^ she lands on her feet, and Pat neve? sees a word coming that lie does net "counter" it with a better one. "What are you building there?" asked n> stranger in London of an Irishman mortar in front of Cardinal Manning'* Pro-Cathedral, / *A church, yer honor." 40h I a church ? Of what denomina­ tion ?" "Of no denomination at all,. yef|; v honor; its the holy Boman Catholiji^. rfiureh." . 'I'm very sorry to hear it." Tea sir, that's what the devil says^ answered Pat, as he resumed his work; Til not give you anything bud! I'H . lend JQU O. shilling," said a gentleman to au Irishman who had just dfriiveQ. him to the station. ^ ' Ah thin, may yer honor live- till pay ye," was the quick answer. A beggar woman, with a mass- of reH--, hair, was soliciting alms from a stago- eoaeh full of passengers. Some rudp person called out tlieff, "Foxy headb - fewer head!" "May ye never see the dyw," she-M* tcarted£ •*Go to the devil!" shouted the irraipf. passenger, as another woman persasir . mtly itked for a penny. » "Ali, thin, it's a long journey yejt honor is sending us; may be ye're gq* ng to: give us something to pay out- «% - sense* on the road." A Burlington Society Note*. Mill Honora Daubigne has jusft eom£ pletecf a portrait of lier father ii* oijfc--' It w| Id have looked nvore like tike olp ' gentVman, and would have smeliled ii#» • finitely more like him, had she worked - * the portrait in whisky. Still, aa a worlf of art, it is a very valuable printings Thirteen dollars' worth of tuAe-coloi% were used in its construction* and th$ frame alone cost $4(5. The hair wart o|| Mr. Daubigne's check is omitted in tin* portrait, and the right ear„ which wwa bit off in a fight down at tli* red aridgp ton years ago, has been restored by tlta magical touch of the accomplish*^ artist. The nose of the; subject, rjsoy . has been toned down, being treated ii| • pale lakes, instead of vermillioo. To get at the true soulftalness, the toul ensemble, the immortal intellectual* chiaro oscuro of Daubigne's nose, it. would have to be treated in the lake of brimstone, if there is such a color. Aft a work of art, however, the portrait it ore of which our city may well bs proud. It can bo recognized by 4 glance at tho name of the subject^ which was neatlv lettered on the franm by Steglftdto, ^ 4 -v ":-y,* "4. "X „ .1 i $'<?L . * , 1,"