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Jfcttrgptoindcalcr 1. VAUSLYKE. Editor « Hi Publishtr. McHENRY, ILLINOIS mxNTKBira. fV> ft* Editor: Here 1B a balmy little <Wnfc To fill your he irt wt' li Bat »«it is a «ong of eprl I Bend it bv a bov. F T'TE POEM. -.The vine on the in blowing. The nest Is I wilt in the tree. , thoapnlo limbs a-o snowltrtf ;?C?? Their blooms in the frasrrantilafc The bird t'i his mate is sinning, '•if< The lambk n skips on the hi IE.' ' lAnd thefosy clover'* springing 'i- t . Bffide the gnrglne rill. y-^ is Sir Stn-plinn his tore is xiching, '• The cricket herrins to chirp. And the hoy in the hack yarn's tying The can to the brindled pHrp. Above the lake in the hollow That mirrors a cloudless sky s Js darting the afry swallow. ' - • Pi And th° purrl? dragon-fly. !Th" I ntnbie-hee i > «hi> tardea Runs riot th • livdrncr "'»v. And Maud in her Polly Var Ion Plucks flowers along fh'1 wav. Sir Strephon hits lore it sighing. The cricket befit/.* to chirp ' v- And the bov in the back i/drd't iliing The can Jo the brindled : POSTSCRIPT. * If this poetic daisy , ' .* r ,\. Should make yon and and sorS^ And ffc you wild and crazy TN spill me on the fl or. i;Y.' And hurl me through the caHemftat, Or maul me like a toy. And drop rre to the basement, Why--take it out of the boy! , , EPITAPH. •' Beneath this stone lies Johnny Girted,' ' An office-boy of mod'-st mien'., . Who fonnd the pathway to the tomS, "• . Straight-from an editorial room --R. K. MnnJcitirick, in Harper'* Magazine. ars jumped iqxm tbefr seats to get a better view of the one-sided encounter, perhaps. They did not hear what the teacher said AS he stooped over the stragglers and tore the girl from her passive, bewildered opponents. A dead silence reigned as he held the girl and gravely asked: "What have you done to the girls, you boys ?" And then--so the class supposed-- he certainly must have whispered some severe threat to the wild girl. For j Irhat else could have so suddenly j calmed her passionate rage ? Sal, when She shook her heed, quietly returned the book to him, end approached the do?£. T _ _!• m v* "KM I go out here?f He opened the door. "Did yon like our song, SaraJif* The habitually aggressive face looked piteous, and her great dark eyes glim­ mered. They were suffused with tears. She rapidly brushed the back of her hand over her eyes and ejaculated: '•Tht>m fellers busted my see-saw. I cum here to bust thorn." As harsh as her words were they eon- he directed the question to the boys, I rtyed an explanation for her presence, raised her face to his with a curious fixture of searching doubt and aston­ ishment, and when he said: "Come with me, girl," she followed him out of the classroom in the meakest possible manner. in which the child--perhaps uncon­ sciously-- e.\i;re£sed regret for hex evij intention. * . ' * - v' * » y- X"* 'V'" ; The streets irere Hi!! and Verted. The peaceful little city seemed to have When half an hour had elapsed he j gone asleep with all its inhabitants; "LOCKEY SAL." > v Nofie of the inhabitants of the little town could tell why she was called "Looney Sal." It could not have been because of any mental defect, for none ' such was apparent in her. She was born in one of the low board huts of Shippenville, which stood on the swampy outskirts of Hoboken, and excelled the other rattletraps in evi­ dences of senile decay. These were in­ habited by the lowest of low wretches, all vagabonds by trade or profession, as you will. No one asked who her parents •were, and had such an inquiry been made no one could have answered it. - "Granny Smith's Den," a low rum- hole, could hardly be called Sal's home . --it was more of a place where she was allowed to exist in compensation for the fruits of her skill at petty larceny, the inevitable whenever she visited any of the mercantile establishments. At night she edified the gatherings at Granny , Smith's by songs and dances, and the words of the former were usually indecent paraphrases of the popular songs of the day. Her Wakeful nights could not but produce extreme sleepiness during the day, and it was no rare occurrence to see Sal stretched in slumber on the open meadow for many hours during the afternoon. These odd habits, as- . Bociated with the girl's other peculiari- ties, made her an object of curiosity as !<?• well as of dread to the school children. • The younger ones, in obedience to their ^ parent's commands, made a wide oir- | cuit about the open space in which Sal spent her forevoons. The older ones . were attracted to the spot--perhaps ;f * conscious of approaching independence, > perhaps only because of the c irious % sight of the black-lockcd, dark-eyed | girl as she lay stretched upon he "see- saw" and gently rocked it up and down, 4 as she hummed some weird song. When- h ever the boys came near enough to be » noticed by her she frightened them off with fierce grimaces, which seemed f* to pursue them in their flight to the ;;; sound of almost maniacal laughter. % Sal had no friends or playmates. « What girl would have selected her as a • J companion, she who associated only :if[ with those who shone as disreputable V among the outcasts of Shippenville? "V furthermore, her pugilistic prowess was as dreaded by the boys as was her scurrilous language by the girls. Sometimes, but rarely, a boy who . vaunted his bravery could be induced . into coming within her reach, but then ,it was only through the process known to children as "daring." These efforts et a display of courage invariably pro­ duced a very subdued boy. whose face and garments could hardly be consid- ered ornamental. The "big bov" of the academy, Dick Allen, had "licked" all of his classmates but two or three, and Sal had conquered them. The other boys "dared" Dick to engage in combat with Sal, but he, prompted by a species of manliness, -declined to fight a girl. On being greeted with the inharmonious chant of "fraid cat," "fraid .cat," he astounded his companions by a proposi.ion to se­ cure the girl's friendship within half an hour. The doubts and depreciations which his playmates uttered stimulated him to proceed at once to Sal's sunny spot. Of coitrse his "chum," Will . Barry, went with him. "Fellows, you could just see that he went 'cause he was dared," said Tom Sievers when he recounted his obser­ vations, taken from behind a large rock. "Will Barry played sharp; he just kept behind Dick, and Dick he marched right up to the Looney Sal's see-saw, and if he did look a little white, and if he did stand off--well, so far as that she couldn't biff him in the eye--Dick he . said, 'Hello, Sal.' And what do you think Sal did ? I expected to see Dick mauled--just chewed up. An' all you iolks know I'm Dick's friend--" "Oh, come now, Tom, give it to us straight," one of the boys interrupted the juvenile modern Minnesinger; "tell us what she did." "Well, nothing," answered Tom. She just stopped her see-saw, looked up at Dick just as if he was a cat or something; then eho lay,down agin, and •working her see-saw she went on sing in', 'See-saw, buck-a-me raw. folderol. dolderol, diedaw.' Say fellows, that girl kin sing. Golly, it just--" "Oh, Tom, your just foolin'," his com­ rades cried; "tell us all about it." "Well, ain't I telling yer? She just ' "went onsee-sawin' just as if there wasn't no Dick nor no Will. Tlipn Will he gave Dick a shove to keep him from weakenin', and then Dick be t-ings out again, ' Hellow, Sal.' Then Sal she took no notice of'em acraia." Then Will, he said, 'Call her Loonev Sal, v.hv don't ye,' and then-- Tom was not required to continue the tale. All of the scholars had sedn the boys running, followed by Sal; they had observed her gleaming eves; they had seen her agile body fly after them over stile and stone; had seen them ap the school, pass over the thres- rush upstairs into the classroom, and there, before the very eyes of the teacher, she threw her offenders to the floor, and with each blow of her little clenched fists she hissed: "Who yer call looney? Who's looney, eh?" As fihe struck them the other schol- returned to the classroom and his les ions, but his manner, ever kind as it was, seemed to have added to it an in­ comprehensible gravity, which appear­ ed even sadness. Sal did nAt go back to her hut, bnt walked to the back of the school and Bat down on a block of stone. The day passed, yet she barely moved. None of the children stopped to see what had become of her; sjif heard them leave the school, but did not stir. Evening enme, a chiily raw evening. Sal drew her knees close to her body, wound lifer" .bare, bruised arms about them and crouched there, a irowsy, uncanny dreatnre. • . "Teacher says forgive theus* fellers and don't steal. His don't cuss me nor he don't call me Looney Sal nuther. He sez Sairey--Sairey:--ha, ha, ha! Me Sairey. Ha. ha, ha--" [ Her laughter was interrupted by the coarse croak of Granny Smith's voioe, which asked: • " ' "Air ye crazy, Sal?" Granny Smith was an industrious person. While her soul-and-body de­ stroying work at night would have more than justified her sleeping all day, she stole hours from her rest du- ing which she stole all else that came within he reach, as she feigned to travel about in the guise of a ragpicker and beggar. Her way home this day led behind the school-house --a belated "kept-in" child might be there; it coxila be knocked down and robbed of a slate, if nothing else. "What air ye doin' here?" • "Nawthin'," said Sal. Her defiant tone awakened the hag's iro. Her bony hands grasped and struck the girl, while her hoarse, gutteral voice accom­ panied each blow with brief remarks, of which only the following will bear transcription; "Wagabone! Too lazy to dance, is yer? I'll learn ye -yer!" She helped Sal on to the shanty; kicks and blows and curses were the means employed. But they were of no avail; though the boisterous, drunken audience called for Sal, she refused to dance: and instead of her songs they heard heavy blows which fell upon a human body, but not a plaint was ut­ tered. The assemblage were too low to even attempt a defence of the child. Several days thereafter Sal's see-saw stood idle, and the store-keepers of Hoboken did not have to bewail the loss of any of their merchandise. Sal was not seen anywhere, and no one in­ quired about her. The children as they went to school gave a glance at the see-saw. Sal was not on it; nor the next day e;tlier. It would l>e fun, aye, quite brave to de­ stroy the waifs only pleasure. The l>oys who wrecked the see-saw did not feel quite manly when they did it, but they had heard their parents say it were well to eradicate the miscreants of Shippenville. to destroy every ves­ tige of the settlement. And then the boys who made fire-wood of Sal's see­ saw, all of them bore marks of blows inflicted by her. llevenge is sweet. The scholars were assembled in the large class-room and sang their rever­ ential morning hymn. The song ceased suddenly as a little, browned face ap­ peared at one of the windows. A little tattered figure Eat on the sill. "It's Looney "Sal!" the children screamed. Mr. Shepherd quietly approached the window and lifted the sash, and at the same time the quaint little body disap­ peared. Sal slid dov;n the lightning rod, which was within reach, and stood on the ground below. She looked anxiously up at the window she had so hurriedly leit. The teacher evidently did not see her. He had hardly drawn in his head when she again climbed to the window. This time she need not press her face against the pane; the sash had not been closed. Her shadow fell upon the teacher's desk, but he ap­ peared not to observe it. Sal cast a dubious glance at him, and then, to Mas- tain her anger.threw a handful of small stones on the floor. "Is that you Sarah ?" His tone ex­ pressed neither reproof nor surprise; it was a simple greeting. Sal might have expected this. She bent through the open window and laughed rudely. "I wur here before." "Is that so?" He looked upon her as if her conduct were eminently proper. "Did you wish to come in?" he asked invitingly. Sal stared at him. Her defiant ex­ pression gave place to one of surprise. "What--me?"'J The teacher noaded. "In thar?" "Certainly, if you wish to." Sal sprang through the window. "Goiu' to sing?" she asked impudent- !y. The teacher nodded and continued to turn the leaves of his book without looking at her. "Page thirty-eight," he called to the boys, and then handed his open book to the little guest. "Will you sit down and sing with us?" A peal of loud, coarse laughter was her only answer. And she laughed she struck her brown fists on her knees and rocked her body to and fro. As sud­ denly she ceased to laugh when she noticed the stern expression on the teacher's face. She hung her head, twisted her fingers about and scratched the floor with her foot in a most em­ barrassed manner. "Can't read," she exclaimed sudden­ ly as she looked into the teacher's face He placed his hand on her bedraggled unkempt head. "That makes no difference, child: some of us here are not good readers-- that is why I read each verse of the hvmn before Ave sing it." She silently ascepted the little stool that was offered her, and sat ever so still, with downcast eyes as if she would not interrupt the full, deep voice of the man who sang. And then the room re­ sounded with the clear voices of the children, as they were lifted in tuneful prayer. Sal did not stir. When the song subsided the sudden stillness seemed to awaken Sal as if from a dream. The teacher thought her cheek was moist. "Is there anything the matter with only Granny Smith's Don was illu­ mined by a solitary dip-light. A few ruffians were discussing one of thoso plans, the execution of which had given Shippenville its merited disrepute. Sal lay crouched upon a bundle of ill- smelling straw, asleep, perhaps. "The first of tho month," growled the old hag, "The kids bring the school money. Two dollars each of !cm. Makes near $3(10. Noxv's yer chaiu t1. Send Sal up the lightnin' ro I. and have her drop the rope-ladder. Shorty gits, up an' then^-well, let's tako a drink first." She placed a bottle of vile whisky to her lips, and passed it to Dan, the pick­ pocket, the least valiant of the lot. Shorty took the bottle next, and. with a "here's lucking at ye," would,, have drained it had not the old woman snatchel it from him, exclaiming: "Hold cm! No gittiu' drunk afore- hand." Sal knew that she had to take part in robbing the schoolmaster s monthly re­ ceipts. She arose rapidly and attempted to glide out of the room. Shorty and Granny, Smith grasped her, and the old bedlam croaked: "Was goin' to skip, was yer? I knowed it, ye peacher. You're in love with him, is yer? clean gone, hey? Was goin' to slide out an' give us away, ye daisy? Thet's the thanks we gets for feedin' ye, ye cat. I'll learn ye--" "Hoi' on, Gran.ny," said Dan the pickpocket, whose libations had stimu­ lated him into a species of judgment, "stop beatin' an' cursin'of her now; when we've made the riffle kill her if ib suits ye; nobody'll care." The old hag swore that she would, and kicked the girl into the street. She continued to thump and kick her until the party arrived at the academy; then She gave her a rope ladder, and as she ordered the child to climb up the light­ ning-rod, hissed: "Git up to the window, open it and fasten the hooks into the sill. If. ye makes tho littlest noise to give us away, Shortv'll be up after yer and he'll cut out yer lights and his'n too. Find the money an' nobody "v^on't get hurt." The child's hard face looked uneasy in the moonlight. In a trice she was oh the sill, had opened the window, fas teued the hooks, and dropped the lad­ der. Shorty was with her in a moment. They passed through tho school room into the teacher's sleeping apartment. Sal did not look at the man; the ex­ citement of the adventure made the theft more attractive to her than all others had bc>en. She found the cash box and exultantly clasped it to her breast. "Thou shalt not steal--forgive tlioaB that sin against thee," murmured the taaclier in his sleep. Shorty clapped his hand on Sal's mouth and stilled tho cry she was about to utter. He grasped her and quickly dragged her from the room. When they returned to the window he released her. "Yelp now, ye pup, an* 111 gO back an' cut his throat." Sal stood as if to allow him to de­ scend first. "Not much, ye devil--you go first. I ain't goin' to leave ver here to yell." Sal crawled toward tho ground. Shorty followed, the frail ladder swing­ ing and threating to break. "Hurry down ve cat,"' said Shorty, when they were about midwav between the win­ dow and earth. Below stood Granny Smith and Dan; abovo her Shorty with his brightly gleaming knife. Her time had come; she woifld not steal from the only being that had ever spoken a kind word to her. Before her intent could be understood she had runup to Shor­ ty jwremhrd the knife from his hand,and cut one side of the rope ladder. "Help! murder! thieves!" she screamed. The instinct of self-preservation caused her to cling to the ladder, but the weight being thrown on one liook alone it tore through the wood of the sill and--a groan, a crash--and Shorty and Sal lay on the street. He shivered, seemed to choko and gurgle. Shorty was before a higher judge than ever passed sentence on him on earth. The noise had attracted a few be­ lated wayfarers, and a moment later the schoolmaster came out with a lantern. "What is the matteT?" He saw the bodies. "Are they badly hurt?" Some one answered, "Shippenville thieves. Good for them. Why, here's Looney Sal--got her deserts at last." Oh,no; I am sure she did not intend any wrong," said the teacher as he lift­ ed her little head. She looked at him with a smile, and when his expression assured her that she would be believed, gas ted, "Teacher--I wouldn't hook nothin"--from -- yer -- yer is good to me--" "Don't speak, poor child. I know yon would not." He looked upon her suffering, quivering form. "I'd like ter go ter school," she breathed. He took her in his arms and carried her into the same class-room into which she had intruded but a few days before. "Had we not better send for a sur­ geon?" asked one of the good-natured neighbors whom the noise had at­ tracted. "Too late, my friend," said the teach­ er; "the end is approaching." "Ain't -- der -- goin'--der--be--no-- singin'?" Sal sighed. Immediately the young man's voice, strong and full, rose in the hymn of praise that the class had sung the morning that Sal first went to school. She faintly sung the melody with him, and toward the end of the song her voice grew fainter^and fainter until it was reduced to a mere whisper. "Sarah--poor child!" Tho young man' bent over her as he anxiously called her. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. * "More singin',"she gasped. He com plied with . her request in a choked voice. And as the glimmering dawn came in through the window the bruised little 1 ody moved no more. In silence the teacher arose anjJj-everently brushed back the matted locks from poor Sal's little face, which smiled peacefully in death.--New York Graphic. THE consumption of tea in Great Britian is about six pounds to one pound of fHE DUDE. * H«awlU4< vA. Faithful Portrait of Rpcdmn. "Do they make you tired?" "Well, I should hum!" The question and its metaphorical but vigorously expressive answer were inspired by tho presence of a Detroit dudo (a genuine specimenefthe species) in a Griswold street barber shop. The person who proposod the question was a gentleman who subsequently ex­ plained that the sight of a dude or even a dudeling (who merely parts his hair in the middle), had almost as marked an efi'ect on him as water has on a dog affected with hydrophobia. "I git quite a pro -esh of them things in my enair," continued tho barber, with a curious nervous movement--a cross between a chuckle and a shudder "but jest as Boon's warm weather comcs I'm goin' to rattle 'em out, now don't you forget it." "Way? Are they not profitable cus­ tomers V" "Not much! There's that little feller that just went out. We call him Lizzie here in the shop--when he ain't around --becauso he's more like a girl goin' to her first ball than a man. I don't 'spose he's more'n 20 years old, but his git-up's a killer. He coma in here the night of the8well skatin' party at Mc Quade's rink, with a claw-hammer coat on under a tailer (new market you know), that pretty nearly dragged on the ground, a white handkerchief spread out under his vest, and the darndest tootlipicky pair of toothpick shoes on I ever got onto--and I've seen some tough ones in my time. I was waiiin' Dn a customer, and so this feller he set down in that very chair you're in now, hauled out a one-eyed eye-glass, stuck it into his right eye, screwed up the l ight-hand corner of his mouth and made out's if he was a readin*. Mr. Merry weather, there, laughed so much he's been sick ever since. "When, I get through with my reg­ ular customer I tried to fish up an ex­ cuse to git out of the shop, but the dude got onto me and I was stuck. I had to bang his hair, then part it down the middle a little ways and then plaster it and bring the ear-locks forward. 'After that he wanted a hand-glass, and then I had to arch up his eye brows, which he wouldn't let me do till he'd stuck that one-eyed glass in again." "Well, you made at least a dollar on the job?" "Got jest twenty-five cants. Why. every time that feller and his kind comes around they want the ends of their hair triuimed and don't never want to pay more'n tea cents for it, either." "What is your observation with re­ spect to the intellectual strength of men who part their hair in the middle?" Oh, that depends. We git Canucks and Englishmen here sometimes who do that and yet who seem to have horse sense; bnt when it comes to our own country folks (Americans I mean, not Africans,) the fellers that part their hair in the middle don't amount to a hill of beans--can't talk about anything but clothes and hair oil with now'n then an exception 'bout gals. Never saw one of them cusses that didn't think every gal lie knowed was dead gone on him, and I'll bet money not one of 'em could tell to save his soul when the May­ flower come over or whether Abe Lin­ coln or Bismarck issued the emancipa­ tion proclamation." Here. Merry weather seized the opportunity to remark that "none o' them dudes dast go to the roller skatin' rinks for fear all the ladies'd be after 'em to skate to fast music, and that'd sweat their bangs all out." S-s-s-h!" commanded the boss as an­ other dudelet swung open the door and came simperiug along to the enemy's chair " The boss winked wickedly, Mr. Merry- weather stuffed one fist into his mouth, the historian of the episode paid for two week's shines and the curta'n drop­ ped.--Detroit Free Press. Alfred Tennyson. Alfred Tennyson was born in the lit­ tle rectory of Somersby, in Lincoln­ shire, England, in 180'.). The rector was a quiet, scholarly man and quite unknown out ide of a narrow circle; but all his sons inherited his literary taste, and each has contributed some­ thing of merit to English letters. Al­ fred has, however, far outstripped them all, though his brother Charles was his first and ablest critic, and published in conjunction with him a volume of poems 1827. Later. Tennyson took the Chancellor's medal at Cambridge Uni­ versity, for a poem in blank verse, en­ titled "Timbuctoo;" and in 1830 he pub­ lished a volume of "Poems, Chiefly Lyrical." His first (rreat poem was The Princess," which appeared in 1847. Three years later, on the death of Wordswrth, Tennyson bacamopoet- iaureate. "Maud, and Other Pootr.s," "The Idylls of the King," "Enoch Ar- den," and "The Widow" followed in rapid succession; and in 1875 the poet entered the field of the drama with "Qneeu Mary," followed by "Harold." In dramatic writing, however, he is not successful, for there is an unreality and monotony in his,'plays that renders them unpopular. The poet has just ac­ cepted a peerage from the Queen. He lives in quiet elegance on the Isle of Wight, having bnt few friends whom he cares to entertain or visit, and de­ voting himself wholly lo his literary work. Leap Year in Npain. I noticed that a Spanish girl of my acquaintance held her fan half open. *1 asked the philosophy of tho thing. "Why, you wouldn't have me hold it any other way, would you?" she said with mild surprise. "What difference does it make?" "All t he difference. If I keep it closed it means I hate you." "Heaven forbid!" , "And if I open it wide it nieces I 1-o-v-e y-o-u." As she began to open it I fled. --Xeiv York Commercial Advcrtitier. Popularizing Iteligion. . "I read in the paper^' rem arked a lady to her husband, "that the ?»(oliam- medan theory is that no women are a l mitted into Heaven. I shouldn t think such a religion would be very p. pular." "Why not?" asked her husband. "Why not?" she returned. "What interest would Heaven liavo for men if there were no \yomen there?" ' "None, perhaps, for single men," he said. Then he added: "But you see, my dear, Mohammedans never begin to get religion untill after they are mar­ ried." --Philadelphia Call. THE editor had evidently been put­ ting on a new pair of stockings when he wrote: "We have just Been a new thing in shoes." ° A. S. MARTYN of Orange, Vermont, lost a goose that was said to be 100 years okU ' Dickens' Bealtugg. We can assure our readers who never heard Dickens read that they lost noth­ ing which might help them to under­ stand his creations. His biographer tells us that he and other friends re­ monstrated with him against the un­ wisdom of the excitement and labor of these readings; but the money returns argued on the other side. He contin­ ued them with a few intervals until nearly the end of his life, went to AraerJ iea in the, end of 1867 for the sole purpose of getting money by reading, was very ill the whole time,' but kept on, despite of warning, and had his reward in the shape of enor mons gains--£500 a night. "The man­ ager is always going about with an im­ mense bundle that looks like a sofq cushion, but is in reality paper moneys and it had risen to the proportion of a! sofa on the morning he left for Philat delphia." He cleared £20,000 in this expedition. Before returning home he had already settled with a London firm ef speculators to give 100 readings more in England for £8,000 net. * : That Dickens was a very careful mai^ will be evident to everyone. His quarr rels with ,his publishers about money made one of the least agreeable fea-< tures in his character. That he was generous to his literary helpers we have already said. The 100 readings began] and soon again began the distressing bodily symptoms which had appeared in America, but which the rest of thei voyage home had allayed. The doctors at length peremptorily forbade the con­ tinuance of the readings. He got bet­ ter, then applied for leave to begin again, and received permission for a final twelve, provided there were no railway traveling. We heard two of the last, one on which he prided him­ self more than any--the murder of Nancy by Sykes. He writes that "the effect was tremendous," that "B. was so terrified that be was dazed all the even­ ing," and some were taken out fainting. We can certainly say that there was no such effect near us. Fagin was very tine, Sykes was passable, Noah Clay- pole was a fool, but not the supreme sneak of the story, and Nancy was in­ tolerably "stagy."' We have seen her better don© at a country theater, and all simply because, to give her individu­ ality, the reader had to rave and throw herself about. The same evening lie read "Mrs. Gamp." We expected much fun out of this, but by the time it came he was evidently exhausted, and it was painful to watch him. He gave his last reading on the 18th of March, 1870, and followed it by a few graceful and touching words from the platform of heartfelt, greatful, respectful, affec­ tionate farewell." But the mischief which had begun was now irreparable. Fresh signs of ruined health followed one upon the other, and on the 8th of June he was seized with a fit, while seated at dinner with his Bister-in-law, and died in twenty-four hours, without the least return tp, consciousness.-- Scottish Reviewi Why People Get Married. Though it is very common"to re­ proach old bachelors wijbh their celi­ bacy, and to pity old maids as if "single blessedness" were a misfortune, yet many married people have seen fit to offer apologies for having entered into what some profane wag has called the ' holy bands of padlock." One man says he married to get a housekeeper; another to get rid of bad company. Many women declare they get married for the sake of a home; few acknowl­ edge that their motive was to get a bus- baud. Goethe averred that he got married to be "respectable." , John Wilkes said he took a wife "to please his friend." Whycherly, who espoused his housemaid, said he did it "to spite his relations." A widow, who married second husband, sc,id she wanted somebody to condole with her for the loss of her first. Another, to get rid of incessant importunity from a crowd of suitors. Old maids who get married invariably assure their friends that they thought they could be "more useful" as wives than as spinsters. Nevertheless, Quilp gives it as his opinion that nine- tenths of all persons who marry, whether widows or widowers, virgins or bachelors, do so for the sake of-- getting married.--Exchange. Something That's Disagreeable. "You is looking berry poorly, Uncle Mose." "Dat's a fac, I reckon, ef I looks as poorly as I feels." "You must hab taken sumfin what disagrees wid yer." "Ob course, I has done tuck sumfin seberal years ago what disagrees wid me. Dar's nobody knows dat bettern you do. Parson Wangdoodle Baxter, kase you gib me de berry ting what has been disagre in' wid me, leantway you had your han' in hit anyway." "Me! Me gib yer sumfin what disa­ grees wid yer. ? Uncle Mose, I b'leeves you's a-loosin' what little brains yer had in de fust place. What de debbel did I gib yer dat disagrees wid yer, and makes yer look miser'ble?" My wife. Dat's what you gub me. Didn't you marry me to dat Matildy Snowball, what disagrees wid me forty times a day eber since we were mar­ ried? G'way, Wangdoodle, or I'll dis- remember you am de 'nointed ob de Lawd. and jam yer carkiss inter an ash barrel. G'way, I say, din heali disa­ greement am catchin', and I has got hit on bofe sides, bad."--Texan hUUnijH. Straw as Fuel. _ "Yes, I've lived out West for ten year," said a traveler, who was bearded like a forty-niner; "I moan on the prairie# of Nebraska. Great country, too." "What do tho folks do for fnel ?" "Well, nowadays we're following after the IlooshunH, tho HOOMIIIIII Mmi* nonites, you know, in tho fuel bimintMM. They are right smart ingenious in som<* things, and this is the way they yet over the fuel difficulty. They build their houses of four rooms, all "corner­ ing together in the center. 11 ght tl ere they put up a great big brick oven, with thick walls. From the furnace door back to tho back yard is a pusniitje- way. Every morning, noon, and night they lug a jag of straw in from the stick and burn it in the furnace. The thick walls get red hot, and stay so tor hour*, warming every room in the house. Even' in the coldest weather three tires a day in the furnace will keep the4iouse warm. For the cooking stoves we burn corn stalks to get meals with, and thus our farms raise our fuel as we go along. Pretty good scheme, isn't it?"--Chi­ cago Herald. A MAN should be careful never to tell tales of himself to his disadvantage. People may be amused and laugh at the time, but they will be remembered and brought up against him upon some sub* sequent occasion.- Johnnon. GEN. TANNATT, Mayor of Walla Wal­ la, Oregon, has a dog that eats pins vo- raciouslgr. Legs Instead of the Lord. A vferv old negro, with his hair tied in those mysterious twists which the art of the white man has failed to imi­ tate, sat on a log near a small cabin, muttering in discontent. "What's the matter, old man ?" asked a white preacher, en route to fill an ap­ pointment. "Trouble o' de church, mister; trouble o' de church." And turning, he cast a significant glanoe at the cabin. "Wh°t is the trouble, old msa? 2 am a minister of the gospel, and doubtless I^can assist you.'" "Ef you'se a minister o' de kine-o' gospel what I's heSa uster fur dl las' week, I'se sprized ter see dat yer head ain't tied up. I's a preacher myself, sail. Had charge o' a congre­ gation for some time, but my wife she took it into her head dat de udder church was de bes.' Wal, I let her go, case it ain't wuth while ter try ter hole a'oman. But she wan't satisfied wid dis. She wanted ter fetch her preach­ ers ter my house. Didn't mine dis so much, but, ding it, she wanted ter gin 'em de best vidduls on do place, When my 'panions would come she'd stew up a lot o' bacon fur 'em, an' treat "em lack da wan't nobody. Yistidy, a bow-legged fellow he come. I seed my wife chasin' herse'f roun' de yard, an's' I, 'What you gwine ter do?" ; » "'Kill'a chichen far de parson,' ft' she. " 'Blame ef you kills a fowl fur dat jigger,' s' I. 'Case I ain't gwine ter put up wid dem sorter tricks no longer's I. 'Who's you talkin' ter?' se she. 'Ter yerse'f.' s' I. _ "She didn' say annudder word, but gidderin' up a stave frnm de ash hop­ per, she gin me a dif dat fotch a liun- nerd stars an' de moon right down afore me. Dis wan't de treatment what I was looking fur, an' grabbin' holt de 'oman, I was chokin' her outen shape when dat bow-laiged man he hopped out, grabbed up suthin' an' laid me mighty low. When I come ter myse'f, my wife an' de bow-laiged man was er settin' at de table er cliawin' fit ter kill darselfs, an'I wan't no whar. I seed dat it wouldn'do fur me to go progikin rdUn' dar, so I goes out ter de stable an sociated wid de mule. I staid on de outside till dis mornin', an' den thinks, s' I, dar ain't no mo' danger, so I'll go ter de house. But bless you! de 'oman flung a cup o' hot water on me, an' lift-in herse'f lack a wile hog tole me not ter come int&r de house." "Look out!" he cried, as a skillet came flying over the fence. "Dat 'oman ain't dun got ober her tantrum yit." "My friend," said the white minister, Your case is indeed a sad one. Let us get down here and pray for a better state of affairs." "Uh huh', dat 'oman '11 slip up on me ef I does. Go on an' lebe de ole man. In dis matter it's a case o' laigs stead o' de Lawd. Wish you mighty well wid yer good work, sah," and, as a vicious woman appeared at the fence with a brick-bat, he turned, struck a trot, and added: "Doan' yer see dat it's laigs 'steado' de Lawd?"--Texas Si)tings. Authorship of the Book of Mormon. The Presbyterian Observer throws a new light on the authorship of the Book of Mormon. The book, it says, has commonly been credited to the Bev. Solomon Spalding, a Presbyterian minister -a romance purporting to give the origin and history of the American Indians. He sought to find a publisher | for this story in Pittsburgh, but was un-, successful. The author died a few, years later. The manuscript of thish story unaccountably disappeared, though it was generally believed that one Sidney Rigdon, a printer, afterward a Mormon Bishop, got possession of the same, altered and added to it, and, thus altered aiid amended, was sent forth to the world as the Mormon Bible. This point is explained by the following letter from Mr. James Jaff^ies, of Har­ ford County, Maryland, whose boyhood was spent a few miles from Pittsburgh. He says: "I know more about the Mor­ mons than any man east of the Alle- glianies, although I have given no at­ tention to the matter for twenty-five years. I did not know I was in posses­ sion of any information concerning the origin of the Book of Mormon unknown to others. I supposed that as liigdon was so open with me, he had told others the same things. Forty years ago I was in business in St. Louis. The Mor­ mons then had their temple at Nauvoo, Illinois. I had business transactions with them. Sidney liigdon I knew very •well. He was general manager of the affairs of the Mormons. Rigdon, in course of conversation, told me a num­ ber of times that there was in the print­ ing office, with which he was connected in Ohio, a manuscript of ltev. Spald­ ing's, tracing the origin of the Indian race from the lost tribes of Israel; that this manuscript was in the office for several years; that he was familiar with it; that Spalding had wanted it printed, but had not had the means to pay for the printing: that he (Rigdon) and Joe ,Smitli used to look over the manuscript and read it over on Sundays. Rigdon iand Smith took the manuscript and paid: 'I'll print it,' and went off to Palmyra, New York. I never knew this information was of any importance; thought others knew of these facts. I jdo not now think the matter is of any importance. It will not injure Mornion- inni. That is an 'ism,' and chimes in with tho wishes of certain classes of people. Nothing will put it down but the strong arm of the law." Wanted To lie Counted In. "Oh t 1 think it must be so nice to be connected with a newspaper," said Miss McKlynti to young Quilldriver, as they hat together one evening. "Yes, it is, so so," he replied "but why do you think it is?" "Why, it has so many advantages. I nhould think you would glory in the freedom, tho power, the liberty, and all the privileges of the press." "Certainly, 1 do. It's a pity with all your enthusiasm on the subject that you are not a journalist." "I think so, toe; but yon know, it is hard for a woman to get recognition. I should be delighted to feel that the press embraced me." "Oh! you would, would you? Great Scott! wait till I turn down the gas."-- Texas Si/'tings. Just Like the Father of a Family. Mrs. D.--What a wonderful jumper the purna is. Mr. I).--What have you found uow? Mrs. D.--Here is an item which says that a purna in the Blue Mountains re­ cently jumped forty feet. Mr. D.--Poor fellow! I can sympa­ thize with him. Mrs. D.--How you talk! Mr. D.--Most likely the luckless animal was searching for paregoric in the dark and stepped on a tack.-- Philadelphia Call. "LADIES are requested to take ofl their bonnets" appears on the play bills theater at Berlin. p 1 |g ATOPOCTT. THE cause of all taffy--lasses. wort*1™0 * wron8 is the forger's A YAM, *oot--The e«Btents ot » stovepipe. MARRIED life should be a sweet, har­ monious song, and, like one of Mendels­ sohn s, "without words." THE man who purchased a porous in order to draw an influence, aied of a cold contracted by coming in contact with a sight draft. . ^HE beggar who insists upon appeal- mfi> J® your generosity with his breath smelling of whiskv, shows that he has 8 0°™e spirit in him after all.--Texas Sifting 8. LITTLE JENWY belonged to a fashion- J,® "Here, Jenny," said her father, here's a new doll." "Oh, father, thats no good; take it away. They aaven t worn those things for a month." A six-YEAR-OLD Pine Creeker come rushing mto the house the other day and declared that there were a lot of deer in the field back of the house. 1 he family proceeded to investigate,, but no deer were to be found. "I al­ low," said his mother, "you did not see any deer; it was your imagination that has horns and a tail that stands straight out behind."--Williamsport Grit., THE coat-of-arms of Dakota shows, among other things, a white man and an Indian, looking up at this motto shining in the sky--"Fear God and take your own part." Ho, ho! In the division of labor, enjoyed by that mot-- to, the Indian is supposed to be fearing- God forth© two, while^th© wliito man1 holds onto his own part with one hand1 and takes the Indian's'with the other., --Burdette. BUT COUT.D SHE FITT CLAMS? Her lips were ripened frait, where bliss Might lonij to die upon a ki^s, By feeling stuner toperfectness. The languor of a passion past, Too perfect at it» hicht to last, :• The sweet and halt-exhausted iSe Of being almost too intense, ""•> Beneath whose exqui-i eexcess Life fainting falls in weariness And drop-< to sad indifference. All this had male her wan cheeks thin And love's lost purpose lived al^npv - Up-'H the proud projecting thronS " Of her compelling chin. f > ^ THE EDITOR'S ANSWER. "Yon are doubtl« ss honest, mvlame, In your views on ladv suffrags, But I d>nit think that any Such results na you have mentioned 1 Would be followed by bestowing On the gentle sex the ballot. f And It by some stroke of fortuas They w=r" nble to outvote us The next President would suttfly Be a man who was selected For the all-sufficient reason Lv} That his suruins? brain createfeij-io Bangs to supersede the Lanntfy,*" Or a nineteen-button kid glove With a candv-box attachment "No, fair maiden, you are flying Hat her high for ducks t> found b* When you ask a man to coldly Taks the changes of Inflicting On a great and glorious c >untrv Home hig'i-collared man for ruler. And to have our foreign service Wear tight pants and ride bicycles. Woman Is a thing of be.tuty, Jn h r sphe>e Riie takes the biscuit. Takes it without opposition; But to have h^r wield the ballot Would dispel the fond illusions That we ea e^tain about her. ' Homeward skip, O, Minnehaha, Spank the baby If it's crying, Putaw.iy your sealskin jacket And prepa o your husband's supper. Sei'k not other worlds to conqner, •J ut content voursell with thinkinjr Of your luck in having some one To get no and hustle for yon." --Chicago Tribune. The Ignorance Which Prevailed Among the Slaves of the South. *Po you know that there were ne­ groes, and I believe in the South, who did not i™1-' * ~ the Southerners called thoUnio^^¥Hdiers during the war, were human beings-- men like other men ?" said a Southern­ er to a reporter yesterday. . "Do you mean to say that ignorance prevailed to such an extent ?" queried the " reporter. "I most assuredly do. I was a school­ boy when the war broke out and lived in Wake County--not many miles from Raleigh, N. C. It was considered in those days a penal offense to teach a negro to read. Yet they would be com­ pelled to take the rear seats in a coun* * try church on Sunday and hear the Bi­ ble expounded, and were taught that hell and damnation would be their por­ tion unless thev really believed every word in theBilile--words many of them could not spell, much less understand. There Mas a large slaveholder near my youthful home, and he owned about sixty negroes. They were as ignorant, for the most part, as hogs. Morality they knew not the meaning of. Many of the women followed the plow, and they went barefooted winter and sum­ mer, unless occasionally on Sundays. The old family cook was a coal black negress named Cherry, and I remember now with delight the famous biscuits, buckwheat cakes and waffles she lifted, froni the griddle. My brother married the young mistress after the war. Well, I saw a skirmish or two myself about the close of the war, but happened to be on a furlough at my country home, when Kilpatrick's cavalry and Sher­ man's infantry pursued Johnson's fam­ ished, half-naked troops west of Ral­ eigh. Every door was closed and every house barred as the troops passed by. The rich slave owner had fled to the city, and by accident I happened to be in his plantation house with many whites and blacks, who were trembling for their lives when the last Remnant of Wheeler's Confederate cavalry were passing, closely pursued by Kilpatrick's Federal blue-eoats. A skirmish occur­ red in front of the house, when the first blue-coats with sabres in one hand and carbines in another dashed by after the 4Johnny Rebs.' "There's the Yankees. There's the Yankees!" cried somo of us from behind the closed windows. "Whar! Whar's the Yankees?" asked the cook, Cherry. "I don't see no Yankees," said anoth­ er colored woman. ; "Yes, those are Yankees wearing blue coats and looking so nice," said one of the manv scared domestics of the slave­ owner's house. "You can't fool me," said Cherry. "Them's not Yankees. Them's men like other folks. Whar's their horns? t know Yankees" have horns."--New Fork Tribune. Color- Mind. Superintendent Southern Railroad-- "Yes, there is a vacancy on one of tho passenger trains; will you try it?" •Applicant--"O, gladly, sir'"' Superin­ tendent--"Very well ; but you will have to be examined first. The brakeman iwho held the position before you had' Ito be discharged for color-blindness." J Applicant--"Color-blindness" ? Super- j mtendent--"Yes, he allowed a black in an to get into the car reserved for (white passengers." WHEN a young man begins to raise down upon his face it is no wonder that the acts like a goose. Down and a goose •always go together. THERE are 10,000 members of the Methodist Church in. South Africa.