tg ̂ kindfaln I. IrM M.YKC, EMItr Publisher. ILLINOIS. pttHI OLD-FASHIONKD DITOKCK. - ^ la the ol<l-ffcshione<l days and primitive ^iy*, When loving young couple were married; They etarted out poor from the girl's home door, And leant was the luggage £hev carried ; A bad Mid tome chairs, apiit-bottoraed at that, A hake pau to sit on the coals, A long-handled frying-pan, teakettle, too. Aid they thought themselves happy, dear eonls'l " A big chest fall of blankets, coverlets, too, Ah! the girls of those days they could spin; «»y made towels, sheets, table-cloths out Of flax. And had health such as industry wins. A pillow-case full of stockings they knit, A big wheel, a flax wheel and looms. If the father was able, a rough cherry table, A Churn and some home-made splint brooms. Attached to the cart by a new flax rope, lie cow she had raised from a calf; Some sheep followed on, of liorsos not one;-i 8ach a wife was a man's better-half. A Bible, a hymn book, an almanao, too; Some women were weather wise then-- QUUIU VVUlliril WC1D ncucitri ntou fuvu . .. . . « True helpmeets indeed in man's hour of n6ed» ^ «H3?f out til© CQrfl&gO WiniiOW, 1 BftW JVlr. nr»Vi r./il^/m»i thnv a iwn ^ T - -- ^ -- 1 _ u.«.,1. ^ am t«. aI.a Though seldom tlioy handled a i>en. A short gown and petticoat every day wear. Linsey-woolsey, dyed dark brown or blue. Checked aprons so neat, the outfit complete When we add the low country-made shoe. One thing was essential to housewifely art-- To such an art did all maid's aspire-- Hear the cupboard was stored a johnny cake board To bake cakes on before the great fire. The rears rolled away, and children at play Enlivened the hearthstone of home, And unless it was election or town-meeting day Men had little occasion to roam , Bat sometimes, perhaps, in a world of mishaps, Dissensions arose, and disgrace. Then the hearth-fire burned low, a SDN token of woe, And home was a desolate place. Item the woman went back on a desolate track. With her part of the goods safely stored. And the comment was then, among gossiping men: "Sjbe's gone back with her johnny-cake board. Divorces unknown, one refuge alono. Some rest to her sore heart restored. When things went too bad for a wife grieved and Md, She went home with the johnny-cake board. LINCOLN'S LAST NIGHT. VljVid Description of the Scenes That Followed tbe Assas sination. tl»Death Watch at the Badside of the 1 Darin#lineoln-Acton iitA* tional Tragedy. pte1'* in- "I got the best of Secretary Stanton one day," said Noble McClintock, pro prietor of the Seven Stars Hotel of Frankford, one of the oldest and best known road houses in Philadelphia, to a reporter. "For nineteen weeks I had charge of Ford's theater in Washington, with my company of the Twenty-fourth Veteran Reserve Corps. I was ordered to the theater an hour after the assas sination. My instructions were to ad mit no person unless he had ft pass signed by Secretary Stanton. One day the Secretary brought a number of friends around to see the building. They all had the proper passes except himself. I, admitted them, but refused to let him in. He went away, wrote a pass, and came back with it. He then congratulated me for living up to my orders. "I have a bill in my possession that I believe President Lineoln had m his hand the night he was shot," said Mr. MeClintoek. "On my arrival at the theater with my company I immedi ately went in the building. On going into the President's box I picked the bill up from the floor. It was lying under the chair in which Mr. Lincoln had been seated. I have kept the relic from that day to the present time." The bill in question is yellow looking with age, has a piece of the left-hand upper corner torn off and is otherwise damaged. "I presume there are other bills of that fatal night's performance still extant," continued McClintock, "but this is the genuine one from the President's private box and I would not take hundreds of dollars for it." Many of the persons whose names appear on tbe bill are dead. The man who played "Binney" that night is liv ing at tbe Forest Home, a few miles above the Seven Stars hotel, on the Holmesburg turnpike. Harry Hawk is still a favorite comedian, traveling around the country with combination companies. Laura Keene has passed away. AT THE FOBBEST HOME. A mile this side of Holmesburg, on the Frankfort or Holmesburg turn pike, is the fine old country seat where the great tragedian Forrest whiled away some of his leisure moments and which he left for the maintenance of aged actors. In its summer dress it is one of the loveliest spots in the suburbs of Philadelphia. The terms of the will allow but twelve members of the theatrical profession there at a time. There are ten guests there now, five of whom are ladies, all happy and con tented, and patiently waiting for the shifting of the last scene. The view from the rear portico of the house, with the beautiful fields and fallows stretch ing toward the Delaware, is enchanting. There is no rough boards, pulleys, ropes, and strings, no bedaubed scenery for these people to look at, no re m i n d e r s o f " b e h i n d t h e s c e n e s b u t all around them are choice gifts of bountiful nature. "They live like princes of the realm," said Mr. Mar- don "Wilson, the Superintendent, who for the last two years has had charge of the place and has made it blossom as the rose. There are 120 acres of ground, in the estate. The farm, which is said to be one of the most productive farms contiguous to Philadelphia, is rented, and yields a handsome revenue On each side of the rear porch are the two statues of comedy and tragedy which formerly graced the stairway of the old Chestnut Street Theater, above • Sixth street Probably the best-known professional at the home is Mrs. English, the mother of Lucille and Helen Webster. What a wonderfully rapid and eventful life her gifted daughters led on the stage! Jacob Thoman, who once gave promise of becoming the leading tragedian of the age, is there, as is also G. G. Spear Who saw Booth leap upon the stage ftvf&rish his dagger, and heard him cry *Sic Semper Tyrannius* as he disap peered behind the scenery. Herr Kline, a graceful old man, over 70, the Blondin of America, who astonished the older generation by his wonderful tight-rope dancing, is one of the guests. The others are Sophia La Forrest, Mrs. Mary E. Bur rough, Rachel Can ton, Miss Jane Parker (Mrs. Champ- ney), J. Alfred Smith, and J. Ward OTBrien. • Five actors who lived at the home •ilice its opening, seven years ago, have died. They were buried on the place. Their bodies were recently exhumed and found to be in a remarkable state ©f preservation. They were placed in a lot, purchased by the trustees, in Uf»per Cedar Hill Cemetery, near by. G. Spear is the onlv one of the company mentioned in the programme printed above who is now in Philadel phia. Harry Hawk lives here, but is pla-ring with Bidwell's Stock Company in New Orleans. Mr. Spear was seen yesterday at the Forrest Home. He was found a white-haired, thin-faced, bed-ridden old man, over eighty years of age. His health is broken com pletely, and his memory has left him, and he can now recall but little of the fatal night of April 14,1865. For over two yesrs he has been confined to his bed, and his death is believed to be close at hand. AFTER THE A8SAS8INATIOX. The most vivid description of the in- cidents of that night after the assas sination is given by Hon. Mannsell B. Field, for many years Judge of the Sec ond District Court of New York. He was in April, 18(>5, Assistant Secretary of the Treasury. It was an April afternoon in the year 1865. I was driving alone on the fourteenth Street Road in the direc tion of the soldiers' home. Presently I heard a clatter behind me, and, look- Lincoln approaching on horseback, followed by the usual cavalry escort He soon came up to me, and, while he rode for some time at my side, we con versed together on different subjects. I noticed that he was in one of those moods when 'melonoholy seemed to be dripping from him,' and his eye had that expression of profound weariness and sadness which I never saw in other human eye. After a while he put spurs to his horse and hurried On, and he and his followers were soon lost to view. The next evening I was sitting alone in the reading room of Willard's Hotel, where I resided during the absence of my family from Washington. Pres ently I was joined by Mr. Mellen, special agent of the Treasury Depart ment I never saw the hotel so appar ently deserted as it was that evening. The usually crowded corridors were empty. Tea o'clock came and Mr. Mellen left me to retire to his room. I then picked up the evening newspaper, intending, after I had read it, to fol low his example. Scarcely had I com menced reading, when two men rushed headlong into the hotel shouting that the President had been shot at Ford's Theater. I sprang from my seat to fol low them to the office, but before I could reach it a third person entered, more calm than the two who had preceded him, and confirmed their statement THE MEETING WITH MB. LINCOUC. "I immediately dashed up stairs and called Mr. Mellen. He was 'already partly undressed, but he got ready as soon as possible, and together we marched down E street to the theater. We found assembled in front of it about a hundred persons, many of whom knew us. They crowded around us, and each of them had a different story to tell about what had occurred. We learned that five minutes before our arrival Mr. Lincoln had been car ried over to the house of Peterson, a German tailor, in Tenth street, and di rectly opposite the theater. I do not remember what became of Mr. Mellen, but I at once entered the bouse, the street door of which was standing open. In the hall I met Miss Harris, the daughter of Senator Harris, of New York, who had been one of the Presi dential party at the theater. As soon as she saw me she exclaimed: 'Oh, Mr. Field, the President is dying, but for heaven's sake do not tell Mrs. Lin coln !' I inquired where Mrs. Lincoln was, and was informed that she was in the first front parlor. She was stand ing by a marble-topped table in the center of the room, with her bonnet on and gloved, just as she had come from the theater. As I came in she ex claimed: 'Why didn't he shoot me? Why didn't he shoot me?' I asked her if there was anything that I could do, and she begged me to run for Dr. Stone, the President's family physi cian. I started to do so, but met in the hall Major Eckert, of the War De partment, who told me that the Doctor lad already been sent for, and, not having yet arrived, he was himself go ing to bring him. I returned to the parlor, made this explanation to Mrs. Lineoln, and inquired if there was any thing else that she desired me to do. She requested me to try and find Dr. Hall, & retired physician of the high est reputation. It took me a long time to reach him, for he lived at a distance, but I finally succeeded, and started with him to walk back to Peterson's house. As we approached it we found a military cordon drawn around the door, and, although the doctor was per mitted to pass, the same privilege was refused to me. "I returned to. Willard's Hotels and went up to the room of Mr. Bufns An drews, then recently surveyor of the port of New York, where I met the late City Judge Russell. I remained there perhaps two hours, and then again started for Peterson's house, accom panied by Mr. Andrews. When we arrived there we found the gnard with drawn and no difficulty in getting in. We proceeded directly to the room in which Mr. Lincoln was lying, a small extension room at the end of the hall, from which you descended to it by two steps The room was plainly furnished and there were some prints hanging upon the wall. The President was lying transversely across the cottage bedste ad, as he was too tall to be placed in any other position. His head was supported upon two pillows on the side nearest the windows and his feet rested against the opposite end of the footboard. Dr. Stone was sitting upon the bed. Secretary Welles occupied a rocking-chair, which he did not vacate, believe, during the entire night Surgeon General Barnes was sitting in an ordinary chair by the bedside, holding.Mr. Lincoln's left hand. All the other persons in the room were standing. Senator Sumner and Robert Lincoln were, the greater part of the time, leaning over the headboard. THE DYINO PRESIDENT'S APPEARANCE. "From time to time Mrs. Lincoln was brought into tho room, but she never remained there long. The President's eyes were closed and ecchymose. Below the lids and around the cheek bones the flesh was black. Blood and brains were oozing from the wounds in his head upon the uppermost of the pil lows which supported it He had been stripped of all clothing, and whenever one of the physicians turned down the sheet which covered his person, in or der to feel the beating of his heart, his brawy chest and immensely- muscular arms revealed the hero of many a suc cessful wrestling match in his youthful days at New Salem. "His breathing was for a long time loud and stertorous, ending in deep drawn sighs. He was totally uncon scious from the moment that he was struck by the assassin's bullet. Except for his breathing and the sobbing of his wife, son,and devoted servant, not a sound was to be heard in that chamber for hours. The dropping oi a pin might have been audible. "What a tragic evlsode in* life's his tory was this to «U their assembled. And not only to us; but to the nation and to the world. "His pulse was vacillating all through the night--at times strong and rapid and at others feeble and slow. His vital power was prodigious or he Would have died within ten minutes after he was shot "The night wore on, long and anxious, and finally the gray dawn of a dull and rainy morning began to creep slowly into the room. And still the martyr lived--if living it could be called. "The town clock struck 7. Almost immediately afterward the character of the President's breathing change#. It became1 faint and low. At intervales, it altogether ceased, until we thought him dead. And then it would be re sumed again. I was standing direct); opposite his face, with my watch in my hand. ' " ( , "At last, at just twenty-two minutes past 7, he ceased to breathe. "When it became certain to all thai- his soul had taken its flight Dr. Gurley dropped upon his knees by tho bed* side and uttered a' fervent prayer.. Never was a supplication wafted to the Creator under more solemn circum stances. AFTER THE LAST AGONY. "When it was finished most of- the persons assembled began slowly to withdraw from the chamber of death. I, however, with a few others, remained. We closed the eyes completely and placed silver coins upon them, and with a pocket handkerchief we tied up the |aw, which had already begun to fall. Mr. Stanton threw open the two win dows of the room. Just then Peterson entered and rudly drawing the upper pillow from under the head of the dead tossed it into the yard. Shortly afterward we retired from the room. Mr. Stanton locked the door and sta tioned a sentry in front of it I then went to the front parlor, where I found Dr. Gurley again praying, Mrs. Lin coln was lying upon a sofa mourning, and her son Robert was standing at her bed. When Dr. Gurley had finished his prayer Robert Lincoln assisted his mother to rise, and together we walked to the front door. The President's carriage was standing before the house in the dripping rain,» as it had stood there all through that terrible night. As Mrs. Lincoln reached the doorstep she cast a hurried glance at the theater opposite and three times repeated: Oh, that dreadful house!' She was then helped into the carriage, whioh drove away. Perhaps the most affecting incident connected with this drama occurred an hour later. Mr. Lincoln's body, en closed in a plain wooden box, around which was wrapped the American flag, was borne from the house by six priv ate soldiers; then placed in an ordinary hearse, behind which the soldiers marched like mourners, and so earried it to the Executive Mansion. I walked back to Willard's alone that morning. Just as I turned from Tenth into E street I met Chief Justice Chase hurrying in the direction. His eyes were bloodshot and his face dis torted as I had never before seen it. Is he dead ?' he a^ked. I answered! Yes,' and gave him a very brief account of Mr. Lincoln's last moments. He passed on, and half an hour later he proceed to the Kirkwood House, ac companied by some of the members of Mr. Lincoln's Cabinet and adminis tered there the oath of office to An drew Johnson as President of the United States." onr 09 VAtmusm simrius*a, _ 'I'Mnohinis as tho dudo r A yearor two irinoe, Ju*t after the retuzn from Europe of Hev. Phlllljpe Brooke. of Boeton^ «> I could stand with "great company of X^rfeoopef clergymen «etta were aeeembled, Mr. Brooks being of in-rlimit, •o In the course of the season, literary and social exercises being in order, tho Kev. W. K. Hunt ington, after a little study, produoed the follow- ng:] Nature, Mistress of the eerily : -' A study hath, they say, W' «•' Where, oentnry by century,; ! i • She sitteth modeling clay.r Fast as her images are wrought , Her lattice wld9 she throws. And In the ample window-alu Arranges them in rows. A sprightly critic hnppeningliy O n e I d l e s u m m e r s d a y , i j V - . . Made bold to chaff the goddess fair In half good-natured way. "Nature, Bona Dek," said he, "I'm bored to death to find What everlasting sameness marks Those products of your mind. "The men you model into rows Might just aa well ba rolled; Peas in a pod are not more like. Or bullets in a mold. Horseflesh. It will probably be news to many Americans who have lived in Paris that they may have unknowingly often eaten horseflesh at some of the minor restaurants. In 1883 over 13,000 horses, mules, and donkeys were slaughtered for food there, and sold for about half the price of beef. This accounts for the modest prices prevailing in cheap bouillons. It is claim'ed that the cus tom tends to the improvements of the horse. One point may certainly be granted, that worn-out jade is now of ten got in condition for the meat mar ket and is put to death in a much less cruel fashion than formerly. In former . years the government made many ef forts to stop the sale of horseflesh, and immense quantities of it were seized at different towns, but it is now viewed as having become a neoessity. In any case, there are eighty duly licensed horse-butchers in Paris at the present moment. The first efforts to put a stop to the practice of eating horseflesh can be traced as far back as 1739. During the revolution, however, almost the whole of Paris lived on horseflesh, while during the last Franco-Prussian war horseflesh was considered a deli cacy. The writer remembers having eaten once at the Quartier Latin a students' dinner entirely composed of horseflesh. The students tried it as an experiment, which, thanks to good seasoning and good appetite, proved a great success. It is no exaggeration to say that in almost all the cheaper restaurants horseflesh enters constantly into the preparation of soups and stews, and thai in many of them roast beef is nothing but roast horse. Of course you cannot easily find out what you are eating in the potages and rag outs. But the horse roast beef always betrays itself as horseflesh when roasted, shows no fibre, and looks more like liver than like beef, and often has those little round holes which every body knows who has ever eaten coarsely baked and tough beef liver.-- New York Sun. "Dear lady, quite the ancient way; Re-take the point of view, e" • v. Do differentiate a bit; & •; Evolve us something new." / - Piqued was the goddess at his tenet' Resentful flashed her eye; , And all the artist in her rose To give his taunt the lie. "I'll ahow you something fresh," she said, "I'll teach you how it looks." Then plunged her Augers in the clay And modeled--Phillips Brooks. THE HAUNTED MANSION. & BX SABA B. BOBE. fu;3; Care of Boilers. Steam boilers are many times injured seriously through the injudicious use of solvents, which, with proper use, would prove very effective and all that conld ae desired. It would seem to be al most unnecessary to say that when a solvent is used in a boiler which con tains a large amount of scale, and con siderable quantities of it are loosened and fall down on the bottom of the boiler-shell, it is very essential that it should b© removed. If it is not, there is a strong probability, that the boiler will be burned the first time it is fired up after lying idle a day or so. This has happened many times in our ex perience, and we find it necessary in most cases to specially insist upon a thorough cleaning following the appli cation of a solvent to a foul boiler. Generally it is necessary to shut down and blow off a boiler and open the hand-holes to do the necessary cleaning. With these plates removed it is a very easy matter to thoroughly rake out all loose scale. In most cases, it is also well to remove the manhole plate, send a maninside with suitable chisels and scraping tools, and scrape off all pieces of scale which have be come partially loosened, and see that they, also, are raked out This sort of treatment will not only prevent any damage to the boiler-shelt but will, if faithfully followed np, generally result in perfectly clean boilers in a compare* abort tip™ --The Locomotive. Don Campbell was my chum at college. His were the merry bine eyes whose laugh ter led me on to the wildest flights of mim icry, his was the mobile Scottish face whose mild look of conscious innocence, disarmed savage preceptors of every thought of sus picion which had been attached to him. But it was not so with his companion. In spite of all my cheek, I could never stop the guilty blood from rising to the very ends of my auburn hair, or my glib tongue from stammering at the simplest question. At the very first word I caught the "wild eye"--the unwonted glare in my buttermilk eyes nailing me upon the spot. So it Cariie about that Don graduated a year before I did, and that I received an invitation to his home by the quiet shores of Lake Huron, one winter's day, after a little misunderstanding with the faculty which of course I had reported to Don with all celerity. Don seemed to be acquiring a new dig nity since he had begun business for him self upon his farm at Mull Campbell--the little headland which runs out into the lake being so dubbed by his forefathers-- nt any rate his letters were now signed Donald Campbell, the old familiar Don being dropped even wilh me. This cast quite a chill over my sensitive spirit, but the postscript put me somewhat at my ease for it informed me that there was a merry group of young people, his neighbors and his visitors, who intended ere long to have a jolly country dance at an old deserted house upon his place, at Mull Campbell, and that I would be a wel come addition to the company. I had often heard of this old house be fore, for Don was always talking about it, and it was one of his fixed notions that it was haunted. My curiosity had been on the qui vive ever sinoe I had first heard about it, and rest assured that I was not long in accepting his invitation. It was a fearful cold day--a day upon which anybody might be excused for getting left --that I found myself waiting for a Bort of one-horse shay, which was to bear me down the steep incline which led from the station to Mull Campbell. The distance was about six miles, and all the way down hill. I had quite a talk with the driver, for he was also waiting for somebody else who was bound for Mull Campbell. Learning that the name of his ancient steed, which seemed riveted to the spot, was Flip Ma ginnis, also that tbe shay never had in reality belonged to Methusaleh in his youth. All this valuable information I obtained by screaming at the top of my lungs at the driver who was very deaf while I executed various lively steps upon the platform of -the little frame hotel where he was waiting. I had never been in Canada before, and I was making np my mind that I didn't wish to visit it again, when two girlish figures, wrappod in furs from head to foot, came from the little station across the way and inquired: "Is this the carriage which goes to Mull Campbell?" "Hey!" shouted the driver, putting his hand up to his ear. "It is," I answered promptly. "Don't ask him again, you never can make him hear you." One of the ladies, the loveliest brunette I ever saw, removed her veil at this and bowed to me, smiled at the old fellow and began at once to climb into tho vehicle. The other young lady followed her com panion, and I got m after them, taking the seat facing them, with my back to the driver, and alas, to Flip Magiunis also. The old man hopped into his seat, closed the crazy door, and we were off. The ground was frozen hard, and we had not gone three rods, before we reached a horrible log road, as rough as might be, and which led through a swamp, and to crown all that old horse struck into a trot which caused the wagon to bound a foot every log it struck. "Mercy, Jette, arn't you afraid?" asked the more diminutive maiden. "I hardly know," was the reply. "I can not compose my thoughts sufficiently to form an idea." That's my notion exactly;"" thought I. "Flip Maginnis must be brought to order, or we shall be shot out of this like peas from a pop gun." The two bundles of fur kept bobbing up and down, and at length the majestic one turned her big black eyes soberly upon me. "Do you reside at Mull Campbell?" "By no means. I am just from Weatb - erwax College, and my name is Charlie Darling." Not a muscle of my interlocutor's face changed as she bowed politely in response, and said: "You are Donald's college friend then. My name is Jette Jesson, and my friend is Nellie Gray." I attempted to lift my fur cap politely,but at that moment Flip brought us up against something, which Hent me sprawling for ward into the young ladies' laps. I know T blushed even redder than usual as I regained my seat. After the girls' subdued laughter had subsided, I turned to the diiver and screamed: "Arn't you driving pretty fast?" "Don't you fret," he replied, touching up his animal with a long birch whip. "I'll get you there by dinner time." On went Flip Maginnis, like a comet dashing through space, and we poor mar tyrs bounded around like corn in a corn popper. 1 tuned my voice up to C above. "Say, old fellow, your carriage will go to pieces if you don't stop driving so fast." "Faugh!" he returned scornfully. "There ain't a hoss around here can pass Flip Maginnis," and with that he wound the surging trotter with his birch whiD. How he did sail! How we did jolt! Nellie Gray let out a little chirp like a frightened bird every minute or so, and Jette Jesson leaned back in her corner and laughed and laughed while I labored man fully to keep my tongue from uttering anathemas at our unconscious driver, whose whip fairly trembled to caress poor Flip Maginnis' bones once more. At last I could stand it no longer. "Can't you stop, man? These ladies are frightened to death," I shrieked in his ear, "Wal now, I thought I was going pretty good jog! You must be hungry to hurry me up like this," and before I could fasten that old man's arms to his side, he had risen in his seat poor Flip •x: IMS. . v r * ^ " i *° * i it no longer. I shouted with laughter, Jette Jesson, joined in, and Nellie Gray screamed from pure nervous ness, while stump fences, forest trees, com ricks and log houses, raced past us like rival trotters at a county fair. How that old shay ever stood it I cannot think, it swayed and it lurched, it tottled and danced, but at length it wound up its an tics by stopping short, and throwing us all in a promiscuous heap together. As soon as I found my senses I knew that Don was somewhere near me laughing at me, and in a moment more I was dragged out of my seat upon the carriage floor, with every inch of my anatomy bruised to a jelly. "Is this the way you drive in the Queen's dominions'* I gasped,as Don shook my hand warmly. "Ha! ha!" he laughed; "Mason thought you were irf a hurry for dinner." A doleful groan was my reply and Don continued: "We never do things by halves in On tario. Don't give up in this way Charlie, wait till you see the Campbell ghost." I looked around for the yonng ladies, but they had mysteriously disappeared. 1 waited a moment to look out over the ice bound waters of the wide frozen Huron, and then followed my host into the large low-lying farm house. Don took me into the sitting room and {>resented me to a lovely white haired old ady which he told me was his motherland then he led me upstairs to my room. The carpeting was very" thick and we made scarcely any noise in passing up the stairs, and as we passed along the upper hall we heard a voice singing mockingly. Surely she was taking rny name in vain, for I knew who the singer was instantly. "Charlie, Darling, Charlie, Darling," provokingly sang the sweet voice. Don laughed softly and said: "That is Jette Jesson, she allows poor Nell no peace of her life." ^ . "If it were only the other one liow I could retaliate by singing "Oh, my poor Nellie Gray. They have taken you away." I replied. Don laughed again, and then led me into a room with a glowing fireplace and we sat down for a brotherly chat. I enjoyed myself finely at Mull Campbell, in no state or country of my acquaintance are out door sports carried to such perfec tion in winter as in the Dominion, such skating, such curling, such tobogganing I have never met with elsewhere. The very first morning after our stirring ride we fonnd the earth was covered with a snowy sheet and some glorious cutter rides we had over the snow and ice. It waS cruelly cold part of the time, and then we remained indoors and cracked hickory nuts and walnuts, made molasses candy, sang Songs, and told stories. I found the gems of the company, to my notion, to be Nellie Gray and Jette Jesson, the latter a cousin of Don. They were as different as could be, and yet both be pretty vivacious and desperate flirts. We were a dozen strong when our force was all mustered, several young farmers and their sisters coming in every evening and helping us make the rafters ring, but none of the pretty Canadian girls could equal Jette's big black eyes and crafty wit ticisms, or Nellie's sparkling blue orbs, her golden hair, her little feet, and petite figure. In fact if I had been at all egotistic I should have imagined that these two young ladies had each fitted her arrow to * her bow, and that her target was nothing less than "this bleeding heart of mine," but there was a lingering diablerie in Jette's fine eyes which bade me beware, and much as I admired her from very fear of her home thrusts, I shunned her as much as possible. Nellie was my con stant companion, still Jette's sly jokes at our expense were not very pleasing to me, and sometimes when I caught her teasing Nellie about "Charlie Darling" I was really vexed, and I resolved to be even with Miss Jesson before I left Mull Campbell. On the fourth evening after our arrival it was dreadfully cold, and it was decided to stay indoors, and we all pounced upon Don for a rehearsal of the "ghost story." I suppose you all ought to be thoroughly conversant with the story," he replied, "as to-morrow evening is the one appointed for our dancing party at the old house. If any of you should meet the ghost you must not be at all astonished." A hush fell over us all, and I pressed Nellie's little hand which lay within my own, tenderly, fancying, as I did so, that I discovered a scornful gleam in Jette's black eyes, and then Don continued: "Many years ago when my grandfather had been dead but a few years, and my father was a small boy, Duncan McDon- ghal, who came with grandfather from Scotland, was my father's guardian, and dwelt with the family in the old house which, as you know, stands nearer the lake. The care of my grandmother's prop erty was all in (his McDoughal's hands, as well as that of her children. "One day in summer a stranger in a small sail boat came into our little harbor, an chored his craft, and made his way to the old h°use; it proved that he too was a Scotchman and had a considerable amount of money about him, with which he in tended to buy lands near by. He was made welcome, and decided to remain with the family until he should make his pur chases, and Duncan McDoughal offered to show him about the wilderness, the coun try then being thickly-wooded and very swampy. They went ont together several times upon this business, but at length there came a day when Duncan McDoughal came home alone, say ing that the stranger had gone on - farther than he had wished to follow him. / "Days passed by and the man did not re turn, but at length tlie little sail boat which had been rocking in the harbor was missing and Duncan McDoughal explained to the neighbors that the stranger had returned and gone away for good in his boat. When several of these neighbors were talking together of this one evening they were surprised by the appearance of Bruce, the housedog, with some strange object in his mouth. Calling him to them they were horrified to find that it was a limb from a human being, having been gnawed off at the knee by the sharp teeth of the dog. "Suspicion was now aroused especially as one of the men declared he hnd seen Dun can McDoughal taking the strangers sail boat out into the lake in the night with his own row boat tied behind it. Search was made but nothing was found, and then it was suggested that Bruce be tied up and not fed for three days, when most likely he would return to the mur dered man when let loose. "This was done, but the first morning af ter, Bruce was found with his skull smashed in, and Duncan McDoughal was gone. • Since that time the old house and grounds of Mull Campbell have been haunted by the watch dog Bruce with that human limb in his month, and almost every moon - light night in summer a phantom sailboat comes into the little harbor, gliding swiftly along regardless of wind or wave, but just as it reaches the dock, it vanishes. I have seen it a hundred times, and my neighbors here will tell you the same Btory." The young men solemnly bowed their heads in confirmation of Don's story, and Nellie shiveringly asked: "And Duncan Mc Doughal, what became of him?" "He has never been heard of since," re plied Don, glancing at Nellie, I thought a little anxiously. "Do let's get out of these shadows" said the little blonde to me. "I do not believe I shall sleep a wink to night." Jette curled her lip and looked especially scornful as I remarked carelessly as we moved our chairs out into the firelight: "And I feel, Don, that fate intends me to exorcise that ghost, or ghosts, for there appears to be three of them. We'll do our best to cage them to-morrow night, won't we Nell?" I fancied that Don liked my attentions to Nellie, as little as Jette appeard to fancy me, and I began to feel some compunctions as I thought of how much 1 qwc d the dear old fellow after all, and I really had not lost mv heart to Nellie Gray. I took a lonely walk that night after our guests were gone, and half unconsciously I wandered over to the old house. There it stood silent and alone in the pale moonlight, and with a shudder I glanced toward the little harbor, almost fearing to behold the phan tom «sail-boat, but the lake was frozen out for quite a distance, and it would have been impossible for a boat, ghostly or otherwise, to come np to the dock that night. The old mansion was massive and grand, built of the wave-washed stones from the lalce shore, with corner-stones, window- sills, and door-steps from the quarries mar by. It must have been something strange indeed to have drivea the family from its handsome apartments to the erection of an other dwelling place. It was situated upon a rise of ground with several acres of lawn around it which was shaded by beautiful sugar loaf pines and stately hemlocks, with clumps of tan gled shrubbery here and there, and sur rounded by a close cedar hedge. In short, it was just such a country resi dence as I would have liked to own mvself, ghostly watchdog and phantom sail-boat included. I turned my back upon it at last, and, finding that every one had retired when I reached the farm-house, I opened the door softly and made my way into the sitting- room to warm myself by the smouldering fire. The room already had an occupant. In the big arm chair before the fire, Jette Jesson Was reclining with the fire - light dancing over her fea tures, the tears were rolling down her rosy cheeks, and again Bhe was softly humming the tune of that old song with the slight transposition. "Charlie Darling, Charlie Darling." A feeling of deepest joy came oyer me as I lis tened, and my heart seemed to spring into my throat, but I had not tact enough to with draw quietly, but broke in suddenly upon the young lady's reverie. "The knowledge, dear Jette, that I am your darling more than repays me for the biting sarcasm you have hitherto bestowed upon me. I never imagined that the par ody on that old Bong could make me so happy " To what length my egotism might have extended had not Jette arisen in dignified amazement, I can not say, but I have but one excuse. I was in earnest. I knew now that I loved Jette Jesson. "I am sorry to remove the flattering im pression you have received, Mr. Darling," she said, "but know, before your gratified vanity carries you completely away, that there are more Charlies than one, and that this was the one I was thinking of as I sat here foolishly singing by the fire." As she spoke she put into my half-pal sied hand a photograph, and then with a curling lip she swept away. I examined the picture by the firelight, and came to the conclusion that it was a most callow youth whose pic ture she had been weeping over, but women are always idiots, and I resolved to let both of these impertinent girls know that I was not so filled with balloon juice aB to fall in love with either of them. I grew really wrathy as I thought it over. Strangely enough, Nellie came in for her share of blame also. What the end might have been will never be known. Had it not been so fearfully cold that night there might have been a fourth ghost at Mull Campbell now, but my fingers and toes grew so cold at last that I was forced to retire. The next morning there were no greetings interchanged between two of Mrs. Camp bell's guests, but no one I think noticed it, for between Miss Jesson and myself there had never been very gracious politeness. After breakfast Don announced that he wontd probably be busy all day at the old house, clearing away rubbish and trim ming up for our dancing party that evening. I gladly joined him, for I felt that I oc cupied a false position in the minds of both the young ladies, and the idea was not very agreeable to me. I found the inside of the old house finer even than I had anticipated, and Don and I worked busily for a half day cleaning the floors and sweeping down the walls. Then Don put up the tables in the dining-room, and I trimmed the house with evergreens. When all was ready, we sat down by the roaring old fireplace and waited for the sleigh to arrive from the farm-house for us. "Charlie," said Don at last, "what do you think of the old place, anyway?" "I think I would like nothing better than to take it for my abiding place." "We agree as usual," he replied, "but I s'pose Nellie would be afraid of the ghost." "Nellie," said I, in astonishmont. "Nel lie who?" "Why Nellie Gray, the little girl who has promised to be my wife, of course." Talk of city flirts and college flirts! Why these country girls beat anything I had ever met with. Nellie engaged, why 1 had never been so astonished in my life! "Did't you know it?" asked Don* laugh ing. "I suspected as much. I think these two girls are in a conspiracy against you, and that Jet is rather jealous because Nel lie has been more successful than herself. Don't you let them fool you, Charlie." "A conspiracy against me, in the name of Aristides, what for?" "Oh they have heard about some of your flirtations, and they intend to teach you a lesson, I suppose." "And they are both engaged. Never fear for me, Don. I am not seriously winged." "They are not both engaged. Jette is not, I am pretty sure. She's my cousin, you know." "Who is this fellow then?" I cried, draw ing the photograph of the evening before from my pocket. "That is Jette's younger brot^r Charlie," replied Don, looking at me curiously. "Why, has she been palming him off to you as her lover?" For a reply, I jumped up and ran out to the sleigh which was waiting for us, md fifteen minutes later we were all seaUd around Mrs. Campbell's supper table; Nel lie as radiant as a fairy. Jette as dignified as a duchess, and Charlie Darling as smil ing as a basket of chips. Don took possession of Nellie that night when we started for the old house, and I was obliged to follow with Jette, who bare ly deigned to touch my hand with her gloved fingers when I attempted to help her into the slegli, and did not hear my low spoken words of apology. Don drove Flip Maginnis this evening,and in relating onr comical ride from the station once more T got Don into convul sions and set Nellie's laughter going like a chime of silver bells. Still Jette was silent. "Why don't you laugh, Jette?" asked Nel lie at length. "It amused you at the time far more than it did me." "Because its frequent repetition has di vested it of its charm. A twice-told tale is apt to be flat. How can we describe its effect when we hear it for the twentieth time?" After that there was no more conversa tion, and soon after we alighted on the wide stone steps of the brilliantly-illumi nated house. Don's friends came in by sleigh loads that evening and I enjoyed myself hugely, although Jette would not once dance with me, and if we did not in reality see the ghosts, we had our sensation after all. We had just returned to the dancing rooms after supper when some one looked up and saw an aged man standing in the doorway. He was so aged and uimanny in his ap pearance that one might easily be excused for taking him for a ghost, especially in a house with such a reputation as the one in which we were making so free. The young ladies screamed, and some fainted, and Jette Jesson turned with a pale frightened look to me, and hid her defiant black eyes and beautiful face upon my breast. The old man came forward. "Where is Donald, Donald Campbell? I must see him. I have a confession to make to him." "I am here/ ping forward. replied Don, calmly step- 'vbat do you wish with me." *X am Duaeaa IfeDeughal" i I could notdfes until I coof eased Gbe mur der which I did, not twenty rods bean tl>li house. It was all thick forest then, and for his money I murdered Bandy Arthur, just as he was making ready to leave this place ia kia ««l-boat I ttorew him into the deepest ^ part of the swamp, and three nights after at dead of night I took his boat «£ haters of Huron and there I left it to float where it would. But murder 2^.1 ?U*L' Bruce, the house dog, discovered^ that body and dragged a part of it up here among my neighbors. And then I killed the dog and rebnried the maimed body un der the large flat rock which lies in \erJ outside, and then I fled, to wan der hither and thither ceaselessly, never knowing the meaning of rest, and I could not die until I had come here and con fessed my guilt Mercy, mercy, Donald Campbell!" Screams and sobs arose from the fright ened young girls, young men gazed at each other with pale faces, and when the harrow, ing story was concluded Don went forward and led the trembling semblance of a which cowered before us away into another apartment. As soon as I could collect my senses I lifted Jette in my arms and bore her away from the others into the cloak-room. "Oh, Charlie, Charlie, I have been SO spiteful to you! I am sorry." "My dearest Jette, may I hope that I may sometime in reality be your Charlie Darl- ' ing?" "Oh Charlie, you are now, but what wth they do with that dreadful old man, where" is he now?" Our party was brken up of course. Don with two other young men remaining with Duncan McDoughal at the old house. In the morning, the report camp that the guilty man was dead. He was quistly hur ried, and then search was made for the grave of the unfortunate Sandy Arthur. A mutilated skeleton was found under the large flat rock indicated, convincing proof that the confession made that night m the old house was a true one. It was buried in the nearest grave yard,and • after that Bruce was no more seen ranging about with his horrible prey, and no more the ghostly shallop comes sailing up the little harbor. v Don and Nellie dwell in the old house at Mull Campbell now, and Jette and I often visit them, and Mis. Campbell who still lives in the farmhouse, for we cannot for-, get the friends in whose company, we passed through the most tragic scene "of our lives or Jette the girlhoods companion who shared with her the back seat in the old shay when we took our memorable side be hind Flip Maginnis. The Entity of a Journal. r • Some idea of the vastness of the field which is covered by the modem daily newspaper may be gained by noting in any copy the number of items which are absolute dead letters to any given reader, yet which must be of interest to some to be of sufficient importance to get into print at all. There are very few people who can take up a news paper without coming upon items which convey to their mind no definite impression whatever, and still more is one sure to find much swith which he has no earthly concern; yet the makers of the journal are forced to cater for ft thousand different tastes and widely varying interests, employing specialists upon all sorts of subjects and diving into all manner of unfrequented nook* and corners for information whiell some of its readers are in search of. One man will frequently impose upon • journal the impress of his individu ality, as did Horace Greely upon the Tribxine, but every successful paper must be more than one man's way of looking at things, since no one maa can be informed about all the innumer able matters with which a paper must be concerned. By the joining together of the opinions of men who think under one man, who look at their special de partments as he would look did he con sider the questions with which theg^ deal, is formed the personality of the great journals ; so that the important newspaper is stamped with one man's cast of thought and yet is the consensus of the thought of a score * f men. The great editor is the man who can make his subordinates see things at whiel| he has never looked as they would ap pear to him if he did examine them ; and who through all the departments in the details of which he may be ignorant makes felt and effective his personal equation. It is arstonishing in the offices of tU& great dailies how the widely-different men forming the staff come to be welded together until they form a complete whole, and the newspaper attains something as near infallibility and om niscience as is to be attained in a world of limitations. All the innumerable items which mean nothing to us and which have for us not the slightest in terest, are understood easily and per fectly by the mysterious entity, "the paper," and although nineteen out of the twenty editors may be as ignorant as we about the bearing and import ance of a given paragraph, the twen tieth man knows both in a way whioh is knowing it for alL "The paper" Is thoroughly acquainted with the im port of the item in all itii bearings through the wisdom of the man whose duty it is to know; and the measure of general public intelligence falls far be* low that of the wisdom of the highly^ organized ubiquity of that great ex pression of modern civilization, the daily paper.--Boston Courier. He Raked tbe Pot. Most journalists and professional men will remember the Athenian club which flourished in Boston ten years ago. It was the only press club worthy the name that ever existed in this city, and many a jolly event occurred in tha club-rooms on Tremont place in the rear of the Tremont house. Unfortu nately card playing was a feature of the establishment, and the card-room was thronged at nearly all honrs of the day and night Poker was in dulged in wildly, and proved the ruin of many a luckless young man, and fin ally was the cause of the death of the club. Among the most enthusiastic} and most persistent poker-players was- the editor of one of the leading local dailies. The game engrossed his wak ing moments to the exclusion of almost everything else, and night after night saw him at the card-table instead of at the editorial desk. One evening a mes senger was sent from the office to ap prise him that the composing-room was waiting for him, and that his desk was covered with copy that required his immediate attention. He paused long enough in his play to indite a note saying: "Copy be d--d. I've four aces for a jackpot, and I won't throw up the hand if the paper goes to press blank in the morning." He Stuck to his plaoe and raked in the pot But by some ac cident his note fell into the hands rif one of the proprietors of the paper." The paper did not go to press blank, but his four aces cost him his position. --Boston Post. , WE ate ruined, not by what we really want, but by what we think we d0jf therefore never go abroad in Bearch of your wants, for if they be real wants, they will come home in search of you. He that buys what he does not waiH, will soon want what he oannot buy.--? Col ton, v; _ . , . . IIS • > • -