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ILLINOIS WW* •oitl to-day tauvian b»t ' My wingwd boat, AMrd «" SwtMtomdlSie pwpie peattreao**? Bomd purple >***» I «QG«AT: , imwrnPT'*"" \,« ,V^#«l»Ho^dtoWen «'ow- W f * . i Far.vague,and dim I & • WIA out®ti«toh«d hwi#S „* The irray smoke standi #. $mt -Warlookiiir the volcanic laais. ' T ' " Here Ischla smile® O'er liquid miles; And yonder, bluest or the isle®. Gate Capri waits, Her sapphire gAtes BapdliOK to hor briffh' lit estates. V ; . 4 J heel rot, if »« .w^iXi'^'V » oHC;-- With dreamful «f«s ; My spirit lies v ' Under the walls of Paradise, *"s., < . . Under the walls " Whore swells and falls 9h»boy's deep breast at intervals, At peace 1 lie. Blown softly by 1 upon this liquid skf- The day, so mild. Is heaven's own child, v With earth and ocejn reconciled;-- The airs I feel , .-?• Around me steal Are murmuring to the muc (Wer tho rail. My hand I trail mtbla the shadow of the sail; A joy intense The cooling- sense (Slides down my drowsy inf With dreamful eyes My spii it lies f. • sings and never dpi* © erveilea with vines. 'jUii Where i be pr'.owp and shines Afliioff her future oils and wines. t Her children, h'd The c iffs amid, _ iboldntr with the gambolling Ud| Or. down the waM, With tipsy calls, on the reeks like wnterCalli, :'| Ton deep barh goes i t | • J' t Where traffic blows, ifcfv; Vrarn lands of sun to lands of mows;-- This happier one, .It's course Is run From lands of snow to lands of sua. One happy ship, : To rise and dip, WBk the blue crystal at your lip! O happy crew, *r heart wit'i you Balls, and sails, and sings anewl Ho more, no more .141.: The world !y sliore Upbraids m» w:th its loud uproar! With dreamful eyes My spirit les • fftjicr the walls of Paradiiel In lofty lines .. .. Mid pshns and pines, Aad olives, aloes elms and vines, Sorrento sw.ngs On funeet wing*. Wfcere Tflsso's spirit soars and siqfft I COLORADO PIONEER. v • . % It aoanded like brass knuckles, that " tip on the door when, in response to a aorreepbndingly vigorous "come in," a etalwart, pleasant-faced man, clad in a etiekanside canvas suit, entered with resounding stop, suggestive of robust health and hob-nailed boots, and in ringing tones inquired: "Are yon the mining sharp of this km paper ?" "Yes; take a seat aad tell me all it." J t. "Tell yon all about what?" "Why, your big strike, of course; how many thousands of dollars it runs, and you only want a capitalist with a few hundred dollars ana lots of grub to make it the biggest bonanza in Colo­ rado." "Now, hold on, pard, you're dead off fhe trail this shift; I only want to show 5 > Jou a letter." "Oh, that's it; your pard has . 4truck it, and you want to sell an inter- * <Bt to go and join him and stake off the ii whole country." "No, you're on the wrong lead again. ' Tve got a letter from a tender foot who wants to come out here and prospet for Klines." * - * v "Well, why don't yon let him come •s one of the grand army of prospect- , - ors who swarm through the gulches and <ff*: wimb the rugged peaks of our mountain ranges?" "You've caught on, that's the float, fbllow it up and you'll hit the vein ,*f Cropping right through the surface." "Tenderfeet make the test kind of prospectors, don't they?" "Pard, now you're on the pay streak ' „4o a dead moral certainty, ana I'll do the assessment work for you free gratis lor nothin' if you'll put it in the paper ,1 .I* good shape, so that I can send it ^ to my darn fool friend baek in the States." "All right, fire away, and make it *hort." *"' "Well, this chap writes that times is dull bade thar and they are outtin' Wages down--he's a clerk in a dry- fc#. goods store,--and so he says he'll quit, Cme out here, iind a rich mine and go ck thar and sell it" "What's wrong about that? Ain't he as liable to find a good mine as any­ body?" "Now you're gettin' right down to •, feed-rook business. It's all wrong, both la theory and practice. Nobody finds p ft mine. It takes money, and lots of it, to change the best kind of a good pros- . 1 ,|>ect into a paying mine." "Oh, yonr friend don't * mina ^ «-he means a prospect." "P'haps he does, but it takes money to prospect, *nd he's in luck if he has ' money eneugh to pay his fare to Den- , - ver." ,V . * "He's got more money than that or *'\t %e would not think of coming so far to strange^country and an equally / - "Now, there's whar you're fooled. JuoiM of fellers come out here every , Messed season, knowin' nothin' about * 5' or prospectin', and land without s p&PM enough to buy scab for & burro." "I thought burros foraged and didn't ^p^at's ao, but they don't grow with pack-saddles on and cinch ropes and aaoks hangin' to 'em. A feller can'l mine with his fingers and live on moun tin* scenery and trout in streams ten miles or more from whar he's got to tax prospects if he wants to find All good mining ground is not neo- Msarily high up on the mountains, and there certainly are good placer dig ginffs to be found along the streams •ad in the gulches of the State." "00 easy, pard; thar's some troth, tat lota of foolishness, in what you say. The biggest part of the gold, silver, ', and lead mixed in this country off the mountains, not out of nice, level places. What soft snaps nr* lying around loose like have al- fceady been corraled by fellers wh$ learned thei* v»tae{ *»4ri»ow, as a rale, new ground means Mw ground, and that's on Che nKMmtauis, and in out-of- the-way plac«L" "But that don't prevent tenderfeet Irom diaeovering them?" "Gueas yon never saw tepdicrfeet prospectin'." "Tell me how they do it?" "Cant only mention them in a gen­ eral way, it would take so long; but commonly, the fellers who are staked by their mends have a mighty good timefoolin' around, and if they find any­ thing it's by downright, nigger ltick. I've heard'em say, lots of times, that they wouldn't climb that mountain for all the wealth in it But, if one is spunky, or tough enongh to do it, he couldn't tell pay from county rock, 'cos he ain't had the experience. I showed a feller some of the richest 'horn' I ever saw, and he looked dis­ gusted like." "Yes, but these men do sometimes get hold of good claims." "They occassionally do, but their's the exceptions, and they catch on by trailing the old prospectors, getting float like theirs, and takin' their advice about locating." "Were you ever 'staked' by tender- feet?" "Yes, in '80 two *cute' chaps 'put up* for me to go to the Bico excitement, and it would have been a good thing all round if they hadn*t had so much money and went along." "Had too much money? What do you mean?" "Well, you see, one was a carpenter and the other a grocery clerk, and they wanted to do things in what they called 'systematic business style.' The car­ penter said a town would be built if the mines were good, and so he took a full kit of tools and kegs of nails, bolts, bars of steel, vise, and a full blacksmith ontfit, and loading 'em in a wagon, while the grocery fellow took six months' grab for all the workmen he thought we'd need for building a good part of the town, and for the miners on our mines. They said it was better to buy these necessary things where they were cheap, so they bought about $1,500 worth of this kind of truck besides min­ ing tools and a hundred feet of rope. I most died laughing in my sleeve, and thought I had joined a freightin' out­ fit" "Well, how did it pan out?" "We hauled that cargo over to Gun­ nison, 'cos they said we must go that way, and it tickled me most to ueath to see 'em pay toll on that wagon and hire teamsters to double 'em up the hills. It cost them more money for toll on that baggage-wagon than I would have wanted for my season's outfit" "What did you do when you got to Bico?" "We never got to Bico." "Why not?" "The main reason was that there wasn't no wagon road at that time, and told 'em so before we left Denver, but they said one wonld be built by the time we got to Gunison, or if not, we could cut our way through or else go to Gothic. I kinder got stuck after those fellers, they were so liberal; spent their money freely and let me cbok the grub, and so I just pick-nicked with them all summer, and lost the whole season." But what did they do when they found they could -not get through to Bico by that route?" They acted like sensible fellers then, as the romance was pretty well knocked out of 'em by the trip over Marshall pas3, and the Gunnison freighters and merchants bought their stuff at less than Denver pricea, freight off, and they concluded their exper­ ience was worth what it cost, and didn't kick about it They didn't prospect any further." "You would discourage tenderfeet from entering upon mining prospect work, I infer?" "Now, there you're off again, for I would encourage them, because I be­ lieve minin' and prospectin' properly attended to is the best business a man can follow, but he has got to have right notions about it" "Will you please give me some, of those notions ?" "That's just what I came here for, and if you'll just tell this kid and other greenies like him what I say, it'll do 'em good, or leastwise ought to. To prospect right a man has got to regard it as a business he's got to learn, and if he ain't got the scads to spend learning as a boss, he wants to hire out as a hand and learn that way." "But can a tenderfoot get a job as a miner?" Well, mining men ain't sighin' to hire such a chap, but if he's got the stuff in him to make a good prospector he will not be discouraged, but will rustle till some fellow hires him. If he can't get a job in a mining camp, he'd better give up all thoughts of being a prospector, for that take3 grit, and means hard work and lots of it. The prospector, more than any other man, rnbs up against the biggest kind of -dis­ appointments and sees labor and money wasted without any whining, because he regards his experience worth it,, and so he goes from one failure to another, till he does strike it rich. It is a study to understand ores and the formations of different parts of the country so as to know where to look for mineral and tell its indications, and then trace 'em to where nature has deposited 'em in bulk. The prospector ought also to be able to test in a general way the rock he finds, to guess pretty close whether it will pay or not, and this he can't learn in a day or in one season. This the Eastern fellers can't or won't un­ derstand, and some of them smart city clerks are as much out of place on a rich mineral mountain as^ would be behind a dry-goods counted "You regard prospecting, then, as akin to a profession ?" "That's the ticket, pard, and if the boys will be content first to learn some­ thing of the business they are to follow, there won't be such a grand army of prospectors, as you call it, runnin' around doin' no good and spendin' money; but the fewer fellers will stake more and better disc series." <, "Does the prospecting actually pay the men who follow it np persistent­ ly ?" "You bet it does, in the long run ; for most of our best mining camps and mines have been found and located by them." "Why don't they get rioh and be­ come distinguished, then?" "Now that's drawin' it down mighty fine, pard, but I'll tell you the truth, tho' you might leave that out of the pa­ per. The fact is, we old prospectors, after roughin' it from snow to snow, feel pretty frisky when we get out of the mountains, and "if we've made a few hundred by sellin' a good prospect or two, that money fairly burns our jeans when we hit a lively camp, and we generally 'paint'm red,' 'cos we know right whar to pull out to next spring. If we ain't got no dust It's about the Mfcfe li tOUM getsmighty lvng our braees© money's - no iUHK-7: camps, apdithewix in sneh pl*oes." "But ao all old prospectors spend their money as fast as they get it?" "No, some has families, and that keeps 'em down to hard nan, and wh«n they git a good stake they fixes the folks and generally quit the mountains. These fellers make better bargains for prospects, and hold on and develop 'em into pay mines, and vou would be as- toniahed to know now many fellers have got good ranches or are in good paying business all over the country that get their start from the mines." "Shall I tell your friend to come out to learn prospecting?" "Not much; if he's got folks depend* in' cn him he'd better stay thar. I'd no more think of advisin' that man than I'd take his advice tooomeback East to make a livin' in a store or workin' on % farm. Won't go out to take authin? Well, good-by, pard. I'd rather pros­ pect than be newspaperin."--JDenver Tribune-Republican. Modern Apprenticeship. The Baltimore and Ohio Bailroad Company has taken a step toward the practical solution of the apprenticeship question. An order has been issued establishing a technological school at Mount Clare, Baltimore, "for the pro­ motion of a higher course of instruc­ tion for the apprentices than that now pursued," with the view of affording the young men in its employ opportu­ nities for obtaining a liberal technical education far superior to those enjoyed by employes of other railroads. All apprentices are embraced under the following general designations, and graded into three classes: The first or junior class of apprentices, the second class of cadets, and the third or senior class of cadet officers. The company bears the expense of education of the apprentices and cadets, and in consid­ eration thereof expects the privi­ lege of availing itself of their services, at fair salaries, for at least three years after graduation. From the day of their admission to the school the ap­ prentices and cadets are to receive pay as follows: The apprentices, 70 cents a day in the first vear, 80 cents in the 1 second, 90 cents in the third, and $1 per day in the fourth year; the cadets, $1 per day in the first years, $1,124 in the second, and $1.25 per day in the third year; the cadet officers, $1.50 per day in the first year, $1.75 in the sec­ ond, and $2 per day in the third year. In their appointment to the school preference is to be given, other things being equal, to the sons of employes be­ ing killed or injured in the company's service, and free tuition is given to those only who are the sons of em­ ployes having been in the service of the company for five consecutive years. They must pass a board of examiners as to proficiency in elementary studies and soundness of health, and are sub- juct during the years of study to rigid discipline and frequent examinations. The exact scope of the school and the services for which its pupils are to be trained are not clearly defined, but it is evident from the long courses that the places to which they may aspire after their training are high, indeed.-- Engineering and Mining Journal. An Irascible Artist. Alonso Cano is sometimes called the "Michael Angelo of Spain," because he was an architect, sculptor, and painter. He was born at Granada in 1601, and died in 1667. His versatile talents secured him a high rank among artists, and his turbu­ lent temper made others unwilling to interfere with him, as he hesitated at nothing when angry. He was determined to be well paid for his work; and on one occasion when he had made an image for an auditor in chancery, in Granada, his price was disputed. Gano demanded one hun­ dred doubloons. The auditor asked how much time had been spent in mak­ ing the image; Cano replied: "Some five and twenty days." "Ah!" said the auditor, "yondemand four doubloons a day." "You are wrong,"replied Cano; "for I have spent fifty years in learning to carve such an image in these few days." "Very well," answered the auditor; "I have spent my life in fitting myself for a higher profession than yours, and now am satisfied if I get one doubloon a day." At this Cano flew intb a passion, ex­ claiming : "A higher profession, indeed! The king can make judges out of the dust of the earth, but God alone can make an Alonso Cano!" And he dashed the image upon the pavement, where it fell with such force that the auditor ran as fast as he could, fearing that Cano might throw him down next--Clara Erskine Clement, in St. Nicholas. Life on the Levees. The levees which skirt the river front of New Orleans afford many interesting rights to the observer of human nature, both in the day time and at night. The lowest scum of the city make the levees, in the vicinity of the cotton-boat land­ ings, a place of resort and a place where they can lie out in the warm rays of the semi-tropical sun and bathe them­ selves in its glory to their heart's con­ tent without molestation from anyone. Along the front of the levees, which slope gradually to the water's edge, the negro element congregate perpetu­ ally, day and night, and as soon as one of the monster Mississippi cotton-boats makes a landing they rush to it in their desire to help roll off the bales of cot­ ton and receive therefor a small amount of money and a large amount of bias phemy from the mate, who is proverbial in the region of the Mississippi for the inventive faculty of originating new and horrible invectives, which are hurled at poor Sambo in massive and unheeded quantities. This is not the best of their efforts to get the negroes' latent and sometimes never-resusoitated activity into play. I have often seen one kicked clear into the river, upon which he would arouse himself suffi­ ciently to swim in upon the levee and return to his work, it is needless to say, with renewed energy."--Cor. Portland Transcript. Aw examination of 8,726 prescrip­ tions in a Boston drug store showed that 504 different drugs were called for by the doctors. Quinine took the lead by appearing in 292 prescriptions, mor­ phine appeared in 172, bromide of po­ tassium in 171, iodine of potassium in 155, and murate of iron m 134. The whole number of articles in the phar­ macopoeia is 994, and Boston ased more than half of them. THX ohief ingredients in the compo­ sition of those qualities that gain es­ teem and praise, are goodnature, truth, TMMt. r was your oap|! To all control, of tho soul. . , dtawing near, .ymsotear. i were my slave; , m you cave /tehee and commando. > worn I leave those willing hands. That toiled for me, or held the book I read, Those feet that tKd where'er 1 bade them tread, Those arms that clasped my dear ones, and the breast On whioh one loved and lovlnr heart found rest Those lips thro* whioh my prayers to God have r.sen. . Tho © eyes that were the windows of my pris­ on. From these, all these, Death's anjrel bids me sever. Dear Comrade Body, fare you well forever. I goto my inheritance; and go With joy that only <he freed soul can know; Tet, iu my spirit journeylnjfs I trust SfiArod I may^ ymetlmes pause near your HAPPY CHILDREN. ; They sent him round the circle faigi,. r < To bow before tho prettiest there; • I'm bound to say the choice he mane ' A creditable taste displayed; Although, I oan't say what it raeai& 'ihe little maid looked ill content. * £ His task was then anew begun, i To kneel before the w.ttiest one: , ' , Onee more tho little mairt 'ou^lit And bent bim down upon his kneel- < f he turned her epos upon the floors ; I think she thought tho game a bo|i, •' He droled then, his sweet behest, ' . To kiss the one he loved the best. ' v ; For all Bhe frowned, for alt she chid. He kissed that Uitle maid, he did. J « •' And then--though why I cau't decide-- The little maid looked satisfied. --Philadelphia Record, JUST A WILLFUL 6IRL "It is really too shabby; I ought not to wear it, had I? I ought not to go." "Dear, you look so pretty and so dainty in it, what can yon say? I'm s o r r y , b u t -- " Oh, well, if you like it: perhaps it's because I have worn it so many times; the lace is mended in so many places; it's really Buoh an old friend, Esther, that I am tired of it and must get a new one somewhere." Tessy, Tetsy. I can't bear to hear you talk like that, not even in jest." The pale, sweet face of the older sister had grown paler still. There was a pained look in the soft eyes, and her breath came quick. "If you want a new dress there is some money, some silver laid away in the box there--but we can get along--and you must use it." She stopped; it Reemed that the crowding tears would not let her go further. Her voice gave out. "Esther"--and the pretty young girl took that pale, quivering face in her two slim hands--you thought I was in earnest? You thought I could take that money ? You could think so badly as that of me ? No, I will never joke again. I will always be in dead earn­ est. I have noticed before now that I get into a great deal of trouble because of my foolish habit of joking. And now--now kiss me." Was not that sad-faced, gentle lady, with the tears not quite vanished from her own eyes, proud to touch with a soft caress the round ^cheek turned so pretty towards her ? "You know yonr pretty way of jok­ ing makes one of my greatest pleas­ ures," she answered, and I am a foolish old woman, but if you want the dress " "Willst du mir nicht einen kuss ge- ben?" called a clear voice from the open window. Both women turned. A pleasant face--blonde, with a blonde beard, and pleasant blue eyes smiling from under thick waves of curling, fair hair--was peering at them. "Oh, Joseph, is it you?" two voices spoke together. This smiling appari­ tion, Joseph Miller, held out a dewy knot of flowers--all green leaves, white buds and tiny tendrils. Their exquisite fragrance filled the room. "It is my contribution," he said, flushing behind the curtain that he pushed back with one hand. "I got them as I came along, at Floyd's." "Ah, ah! how beautiful! How can we thank you, Joseph ? Oh. why was I not born a flower--just a white rose like this? Then I should not have to trouble about a new dress. Now, Miss Esther Payne 1" The blue eyes of the young man had been from tho first fixed on this slim, fair, flower-bud of a girl, who was hov­ ering over his gift in an ecstacy of de­ light. The eyes flashed now with pleas­ ure, as she took a spray of buds from the bunch and turned to her sbter. "You may put these right there, if you please*--there in that bunch of curls over my forehead, so; that im­ proves the matter." "She has been fretting about her dress," explained Miss Payne to the young man in the window. "Her dress! "Why, what is the mat­ ter with it?" he asked, opening his eyes wide. "It is old, and it is old fashioned, and it is ugly," ejaculated Tessy, with em­ phasis. "Why, I was just thinking how pretty it is, and I wondered if you had made it new for the occasion," remarked that stupid young man. "All that green color with the white, just like an apple and a bud; I thought you must be a flower bud yourself unfolded." Miss Payue smiled, but Therese made a dainty face. "The lace is mended all over, but then it's real lace--real Mechlin lace," she observed, bewildering her mascu­ line admirer with grave technicalities. Happily he only saw the face, the brown hair ruffling on the forehead, the lovely eyes that laughed at him, the low, sweet voice that patronized him. "Oh, Blume, weisse Blume!" he re­ peated rapturously. "Please don't talk in that awkward German," cried out Tessy, pettishly. "It only makes me think of iny school lessons, and I can't understand it, either. How can I tell1 whether yoi) are laughing at me or paying me a compliment?'* The young man laughed. "Oh, Blume! I was paying you a compli­ ment--a just tribute." "And the other--when yon first came?" Joseph blushed and fidgeted. "That--oh, that was just nonsense; I must ask you to pardon it," he stam­ mered. The grave, soft eyes of Miss payne looked at him as if she would say she had no fear he would say to them aught that would be displeasing. She glanced at his dress and then said, doubtfully: "Were you going to the park--were you on your way? Joseph shrugged his shoulders, smil ing. "I shall go presently. But I shall wait till the brass band and speech- making are over. Z don't wish to be „ . the WM unmistakable ldokj nodded at hinkfrom over „ her Utile white hM, with! and snow-drops, making a shadow for Iter eyes to shine pnt of in to his. *Oh, querulous musician! I wonder that a young man who his such an ear for discord cant ntak# better music of his own, especially when he in the owner of, besides the cat, a genome Paganini violin. There, I have got some of the Southern wood on me, and if they smell me in advance they will think a whole village Snnday school is coming. Good-bye, good-bye." The two young people went away in opposite directions, and Miss Payne, left alone, sat for a long time in the little room in the lowering sunshine, si­ lent, but quite sad; at least her smile was stronger than her tears, and held its place on her plaoid mouth. For it was Tessy she was thinking of, the pretty, young, brown-haired maiden, between whom and utter loneliness and helplessness in a bard world only her own frail life--and Joseph. For Joseph loved the charming, home-sweet Tessy; Esther was sure of that. But Tessy ? Ah! she was the "weisse Blume" truly-- the white flower about which the swan might circle, singing its plaintive song till it should die. "I wish, oh, I wisli"--and Esther clapped her hands together with nerv­ ous force--"I wish Tessy could love him. I could die happy then." The large tears rose and felL "Surely, a girl's heart is not so hard to win--if one knows the way." And the trouble wa3 that Joseph did not "know the way." He was good, he was gentle and kind; he would flush and stammer when the merry little maid asked him but to do something for her; then he would rush and stum­ ble over his own feet a dozen times in the effort to obey her, and Tessy would laugh at him. "Willst du mir nicht einen knss ge- ben?" "I think," said Esther to herself, "I think if Joseph wonld say that to her some day in earnest and claim the kiss and take it as his right, he might win my little Therese." But just here the trouble was. Jo­ seph was afraid. His great love for the poor young girl, the "white flower" of his song made him a coward; but it was a noble cowardice, and might go far to help him some day to high, he­ roic deeds. It was late when Tessy returned. Miss Payne had been sitting gloomily alone in the room, where shaded lamp­ light and flooding moonlight, pour­ ing through open window and door, made the place a bower of golden dusk. • Tossing aside her hat and little white shawl, Tessy flung herself on the floor at her sister's feet. Esther placed her loving hand on the soft, brown, curling locks veiling the bright head, "Did you have a happy day, my Tes­ sy?" "Oh, yes," was the answer, given with magnificent indifference. "And--was Joseph there?" "Josef--you mean old Josef, the bandmaster--of course he was there. How could there be a brass band with­ out Josef to lead it ?" replied again Miss Tessy. Miss Esther Payne touched with a finger of gentle reproach the naughty lips of the naughty speaker. "Do you think I should inquire after such a person as that ?" "Oh, then you ment your friend Jo­ seph--the one who makes quotations in German to Bhow that he is learned. Yes, certainly, he was there, but I did not see very much of him." "But why ?" And now Miss Payne's face grew grave, her voice felL "But why, my Tessy? Surely--" "Oh, I don't know." Tessy stretched up two slender white hands, clasping them indolently over her head. "You see, Esther, when he first made his ap­ pearance on the scene, we had left the grounds. Most of our girls were in the big pavilion getting our tea at the tables; and that horrid Nelly Maroh- mont was there, and Joseph stopped at her table and stayed, there a long time." "Well, what then?" Tessy had paused in her reoital, and was lying half-kneel- ing, her soft, flushed cheek resting on her sister's arm. She smiled a little gravely when Esther Bpoke. "What then ? Oh, nothing but this: first, I suppose I should not have mind­ ed it, but I got a fateful fancy that it was only because of her dress that he lingered by her; and that he was ashamed to be seen with ma." "Tessy!" "Oh, I know it was mean of me; but she was Leautifully dressed. She is dark, you know--dark; and she was all in dark tissue, with brond bands of gold on her arms and waist and in her hair. It was very becoming to her, and I sup­ pose Joseph paid her compliments in German." a "Child"--and Miss Payne pinched with a smile the lit^e pearl-pink ear. "Well, at all events, he couldn't call her his weisse blume (his white flower) could he?" quoth Miss Therese, tri­ umphantly. She sat up and rested her chin on her arm to begin again. "And so, when at last he began to make his way across, meaning to speak to me, I was engaged to dance with Harry Wistar. I really hadn't time to waste on Joseph. They--the other Jo­ sef was playiug my favorite music." The witch stopped and began to hum one of Gounod's delicious airs. "And I really didn't see hjxn." "Oh, Tessy! How could you do so? And Joseph is so kind." There were tears readv to break through the trem­ ble of Esther's pained voice. "Kind?" broke in Miss Tessy, indig­ nantly. "I don't know what your ideas are, but I, call it far from kind to snub me so, and, after all, I don't tl^ink he would have minded it so much--so very much--but a slight shower came up while we were dancing, and we all rushed back to the pavilion." Here Miss Tessy paused again. A dimpling smile stole into her round, rosy cheek. "There was a little spot of marshy ground on the path, and the rain had made it worse. So, when we came to that--you see, I had on my light shoes --Harry threw down his coat, and nothing would do but I must walk over it. And when I looked up, just as we entered the pavilion, what an expres' sion there was on Joseph's face! I do believe he was swearing to himself--in German." Esther was silent, with a pained fear at her heart. What could she say? How could she chide this beautiful young creature, who was so dear, so winsome, so worthy of love? How could she help and not hurt? "Well," exclaimed Theresa, authori­ tatively, growing tired of the silence. "My dear," paid Esther, timidly "don't you think with me that Mr, Wis tar's attention was a little place--that it was oonspkmons?" *8. others did, Wight have? . . .r aai^r, as the hy walking on the I must go to "Do you tirea ma si bed," said Tes*, "Smile!" shecanma think I am going to sav good night to such eyes aa those? Smile at once!" The grievedlookmelted swiftly into *** . loving arms twined around each other's neok, the two sis­ ter's cried---silently. But their good­ night kiss was the sweeter for those tears. In the quiet dan that followed-- perhaps because they were living nearer together, more in sympathy with each other--these two sisters, Esther noticed that Tessy was more than usually silent, that under her joyous laugh shone the glimmer of crowding tears. But Tessy observed that Esther grew more thin and wan, that her strength seemed to be consumed as if by some eating fire. .One evening Esther in her chair drew Tessy to her. The young girl came and knelt by her side in the old familiar way, the pretty bronze-brown lovelocks ruffling over her lap, the white arms softlv upthrown. •'Dear," said the elder sister, in alow voice, "you never sing for me now." "No," answered Tessy, slowly; "it must be--1 don't know--unless--I don't think of it." "Yon did not wait once to think of it, Tessy; you sang because you must." "Yes; that does make a difference-- to feel the music in one. When a bird is being cooked and eaten, I suppose it does not feel like singing." "What in the world do yon mean, ohild?" • "Mean? Nothing--I never mean anything; that's why I get into so much trouble." The girl spoke in a mocking way, but a moment after she spoke more seriously: "Do you know, Esther, I was reading, this morning,the old story of the knight­ ly lover,who had a beautiful bird that his lady coveted. He was very poor, but he would not sell his bird. But, one fine day, the princes sent a message that she was coming to dine with him, and, as he had nothing in his larder fit for so dainty a lady, he bade his cook kill the bird and serve it." Here Tessy paused for a moment, for a sound as of tears was in her voice. She put her hand over her eyes. "It is such a tender story, Esther, I can't tell it as it ought to be told; but the young knight must., have sat and looked at her--can't you fancy it?-- while she sat at his table and ate his frugal dinner--and then--she said she would love him--be his own true prin­ cess--if he would give her his bird." "Well," said Esther, smiling, "the Princess did get the bird in one way, if not in another. And I wonder if the young knight quite loved her when he saw her eating it!" "Oh, you hard-hearted woman," cried Tessy. "But I thought of that, too." Then rising, with a quick change of manner, she said: "I wonder if Joseph would contribute his beloved violin to make a fire for me, if I were freezing?" Esther began to understand. The next day Miss Payne was not so .well. She was lying on the sofa in the little parlor, when Tessy came in and knelt by her, and took her two hands. The girl had a strange, sad feeling, as if she were lost in a wood, with no one to show her the way out. "I don't know what to do for you," she sobbed. "You are getting worse, Esther, what is it? Shall I send for some one? O, why does not Joseph IP She stopped suddenly, but Esther heard, and the next day a message found its way to that young man, who answered in person. He walked straight np to Esther's chair when he came in. "I did not know you were ill," he said, and oh, the sense of comfort, of rest, that the invalid felt when she heard his voice--when she looked into his clear eyes. "Is it anything serious ? I am sorry." Esther smiled gently, but he grew grave with a startled fear when he saw the change in her. "It is not painful--only a little trou­ blesome, and I should not mind it so much, but Tessy frets over me." ^ Joseph looked for the first time at Tessy, who was sitting apart by a win­ dow. She barely glanced up as- she spoke, but there was a Jbriglit red flush in her cheek. And her eyes--how soft and appealing they were as they looked at him' so briefly. Perhaps he had been unnecessarily harsh with her; she was so young--just a slip of a girl, a white flower unfolding. Presently Tessy slipped from the room. "Come closer, Joseph," began Miss Payne, nervously clasping and unclasp­ ing her hands; "I have but a moment and I wish to say to you--perhaps I am meddling--I am sick and have many fancies--but, Joseph, if I were a young man, loving a shy, half-frightened girl, I should say to myself this truth: 'A faint heart never won a fair lady.' " Joseph looked at her; his face turned red and then white, and then he burst out into a curious, hysterical laugh. "God bless you, Miss Payne. I be­ lieve you are the best woman in the world," he said earnestly. He kissed her hand. How cold it was, how wan, and sad, and tired she looked; but not a meddler, no. When Joseph took his leave, as he walked along the hall he heard behind a door half open the notes of a piano and a low voice singing--Tessy's voice. Joseph hesitated a moment, then, pick­ ing up courage, repeating to himself, with a quiet little smile, the words: "Faint heart never won fair lady," he dashed the door open and went in. Tessy was there alone, playing ana singing softly to herself. She jumped up when she saw who her visitor was. "Stay," he said quickly. "I did not come to disturb you; I came to listen. Tessy stopped and stood silent, with bent face. "Won't you sing me one song?" he pleaded. But Tessy turned away and began to gather up her scattered music sheets. "I can't sing in German," she an­ swered coldly. "My songs are all sim­ ple ones. They are only English songs, not worth listening to." ' He looked at her, hesitated once more for the last time, then took a step forwftrd "Why do-.vou treat me in this cold way, Tessy ? he burst out "Have I offended you in any way? What have I done?" "You? No; it is nothing, only- only--" And then it was all over, and Tessy was sobbing her grief and joy and re­ sentment all out together on Joseph's shoulder. Be drew her thus close fa* « little MWJU*t Alt mir: ' he^said, 1 ; and old sweat. OeratMi _ oeeph spoke it! "Idebehsn,shall w« tell Esther mow?" Then he looked at her more cloeely. *Aad you have got on the belovedwhite drees. Yonmuat always wear it, O waive btam** Tes­ sy laughed. "Gone to Esther now," she said. Bat alas! Esther was asleep. Astern ̂ her darling was safe.-- N * w & l e w P i c a y u n e ? M M ' ) A Yankee Farmers Wife. She has received a certain amount oi instruction at a public school, then marries young and begins her, to me, Herculean labors. It £• her part to perform all the daily household tasks, with but seldom any outside aid. She must make butter, milk cows, feed the chickens, and attend to the kitchen garden, as well as to her special pat flower-beds and vines. Then she har­ nesses a horse and drives to a neighbor^ - - ing town to barter (as no one else ca$ with her butter, eggs, and garden pro­ duce. If anything is broken or out of order in the house or farm, she menda it, and being a woman of infinite re­ sources, she may even construct some of hor own furniture or paint her fence. Her "parlor" is adorned with all the latest substitutes in the way of worsted work or pressed bouquets, while her store-closet is well stocked with pre­ serves, and her garret hung with dried fruits. It is probable that she has/shil- dren, and none are more thoughtfully tended in all their needs, be they phya- ical, moral, or mentaL The olothing of the family, even to their stockings and mittens, is her handiwork, while occasionally a garment is made for oaie, of the village poor. - ' But where is her self-culture? say you. Ah! there is the mystery; how and when is it accomplished? And there is no denying the fact, a narrow provincial education it mav be, but th|| I is owing to her circumscribed life. If you were to enter a small, eodl- r monplace, white-washed farm-house in any of the straggling NewJSngland vil­ lages, which appeanr little else than a oluster of huts in a wilderness to En­ glish eyes--if you are so bold as to en­ ter in, and so fortunate as to have an uninterrupted conversation with the mistress of the house, yon - would 'find her a plain, probably faded, woman, clad in neat calico, sharp voiced and sharp visaged perhaps, but gentle in . manners, and displaying as she talks a ^ well-cultivated intelligence, and more or less acquaintance with literature hi all its branches of history, philosophy, science, and belles-lettres. Yon would find her a member of the nearest libra­ ry, and a subscriber to all the leading periodicals. But in order to make this a strictly truthful account, I must add that she seldom reads the newspapers, and is utterly devoid of that knowledge of current affairs that distinguishes particularly the women of New York and Chicago. But then, consider how precious to her is each moment of time, and how far she is removed from the centers of civilization! She has no amusements, no diversions, no trips away; yet sl>e is patient, and never rest­ ing from her round of necessary du­ ties, and that, to her, no less necessary one of self culture. Some one has beautifully said that "the hand that rocks the cradle rocks the world." The children of Priscilla--or, more correct­ ly, "Sairey Ann"--will doubtless be rich, and aome will call them parvenus, perhaps; but as for her grandchildren, what may they not beoome!--Cassell's Family Magazine. „ 1 Superstitions About Deaf Mutes* The hopeful theories recently ad­ vanced by Prof. Graham Bell in regard to teaching the mutes to speak, and the large and liberal provision made in these days for helping the infirmities of the deaf and dumb, are in striking contrast with the treatment of the phy­ sically disabled among the most ad­ vanced nations in early times. Among the ancient Greeks deaf mutes were looked upon as a disgrace to humanity, and under the barbarous laws of Ly- curgus they were exposed to death. Nor was highly cultured Athens less cruel than Sparta toward these unfotr- - tunate creatures. Deaf mute children were pitilessly sacrificed without a voice being heard in their behalf. Arii- totle declared congenital deaf mutes to be incapable of instruction, and this was the universal opinion of classical antiquity. The Romans treated the un­ fortunates with the same cruelty as the Greeks. As soon as a child was found to be deaf and'dumb it was sacrificed to the Tiber. Only those escaped whom the waves washed to the shore or whom the natural love of the parent kept hid­ den. The Bone Industry. The bone industry of the country i|t . an important one. The four feet of an ordinary ox will make a pint of neate- foot oil. Not a bone of any animal ia thrown away. Many cattle shin bones. are shipped to Europe for the making of knife handles, where they bring $40 per ton, and are made into collar but­ tons, parasol handles, and jewelry, though sheep's legs are the staple for parasol handles. The water in whioh the bones are boiled is reduced to glue, the dust which comes from sawing the bones is fed to cattle and poultry, and all bones that cannot be used as noted, or for bone black, used in refining the sugar we eat, are turned into fertilizers and made to help enrich the soil. Aa regards waste, it is the story of the pig. Nothing is lost exoept the aqaesl.-M- P h e l a d e l p h i a P r e s s . J j . Loosely Conducted. A raffle for a fawn recently took plafiMt i in a Montana town. After the raflSe was over the holder ol^Che winning ticket asked for his fawn, supposiag the animal to be a pet in some family. The lady manager of the affair told him it was out in the hills with its dam . and all he had to do was to go and catch it. Then she laughed till her tet s <les shook. Shows how loosely these affairs are being conducted in souti places.-- Virginia (Neb.) Enterprise,> s Washed Twice in a Lifetime. In Abyssinia there is plenty of water, and the soap grows on trees, but an Ethiopian will tell you without a blush that he is necessarily washed at birth, washes himself on his marriage morn and hopes to be washed after death, When he feels hard and uncomfortable he will anoint himself with mutton fat till his head and body glistens in tb* BAD examples may be as profitable|N virtue as good ones.--Montatgne. ^ BEAUTY without graoe is a hookwil|K out a bait.--Ninon de TEnclos. > ' -t: • : f .