The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

FRJFAJTMSI IT 11 Strife TWO, •'USt trrs rrfn-atasd Jn the shaflow-hmj* ' .. To see tho bride ae she-ptoses by ; £ , •W>8 soft mil low, rinR loud an J clear, ! - J • ^ Ife chiming 1>, lis that sw ng 011 high I Z'r jJ (- »>k! look ! ulie ooiiios I Th i air grows s#Mw With th«> fragrant breath of the orang*blboms, A*D tbo HOWOTB I>HA TRIADS beneath her foet l»io in h flood ol iwe perfumes! 8be winei) she comes! Tho liappy belli t With their joyous clamor fill thi air, Wbilo the gr« at organ dies And swell*, Soaring to trembling heights of prayer] , Ok I rare are her robes of silken sheen, , , ( And the pearls that gleam on her bOWffl» snow; 4 Aft rarer the grace of bet royal mein, Jier hair'* DM fteid, 'ud her sMkl JW| glow. , StaUnty and fair aa a folded rose, . _ fresh as a violet dewy stroot, ' *i' s» . j Chaste as a lily, she hardly knows jt That there are rough paths for other fe<%' ' Jfttr Ivove hath shielded lior; Honor kepi , 'Watch beside her niglu and day. |d Evil out from her sight bath Qtepv niling its slow length far away. How in her perfect womanhood, _ .JES,-'.. In all the wealth of her matchless chMM^ ZiOTely and beautiful, pure and good, 4: She yields herself in her l,>ver's arms. Sj'sf -,• Hark 1 how the jubilant voices ring 1 Lol as we stand in the shadow here. While far above us the gav bells swing, I catch the gleam of a happy teal. The pageant is over. Come with me */•'" , To the other side of the town, I pray, Jfc Ere the sun goes down in the darkening 11% And ni(jht falls around us, chill and graft ' In the dim church porch an hour ago We waited the bride's fair face to see; Mow life has a sadder sight to show, A darker picture for "you and me. Ho need to seek for the shadow here There are shadows lurking everywhere: These streets in the brightest day are drew, 7 And block as the blackness of despair. But this is the house. Take heed, my friMM, Tee stairs are rotten, the way is dim; And op the flights, as we still ascend, ' Creep, stealthily, phantoms dark and grflB. •liter this chamber. Day by day, ' Alone in this chill and ghostly room, . ~ Achild--a woman--which is it, pray?-- , Drsparingly waits for the hour of doontl Ah! as she wrings her hands so pole, ' Ko gleam of a wedding-ring you see; There's nothing to tell. You know the tale God help her now in her misery 1 I dare not judge her. I only know » ' That love to her was a sin and a snare, While to the bride of an hour ago , . It brought all blessings its hands could 1)MFI I only know that to one it came Laden with honor and joy and peace; Ha gifts to the other were woe and shame, And a burning pain that shall never cease, I Only know that the soul of one Has been a pearl in a golden case; That of the other a pebble thrown Idly down in a wayside place. Where all day long strange footsteps trod, And the bold, bright sun drank up the (tflft Yet both were women. O righteous God, t Thou only caust judge between the two I THE CURSE OF THE MANITOD. An Indian Legend. BT M5W VANDEBPOOIIB. The vast legendary lore of the North American Indians, if it is ever written, will afford the lovers of wierd and mythical ro­ mance a most delectable repast. Some of thee* traditions are simple while others are very complex; many are rich with an al­ most oriental splendor*, and others approach the Platonism and deliberation of Norse sagas. All assist in demonstrating that poetry is more a matter of conditions than of culture. . There is little difficulty in tracing a ma­ jority of these legends to their tribal origin, BO unmistably do they bear the impress of local, and natural, influence. Those which were originated among the mountain tribes, where the scenery is a continuous panorama of rugged grandeur, are most ^sublime in their imagery and movements One of the most striking and character­ istic of these mountain legends, coming from the Colorado Utes and accounting for the origin of the buffalo, is, with some Blight modification, as follows: The first people of the earth were the Maniton's own children. He formed them of the snow of the .mountains and filled them with his own breath. So they were; ptire. j They were few in number and their faces: shone like mountain sunshine. They lived on the summits, in the heart of the givat Rocky Mountains, where the M&nitou had his throne. He was with them always, so they were wise with the wisdom of purity and blame- leesness. The birds which sang Around them were not happier. -" Perpetual youth was theirs, and there Was no sickness or death among them. The Manitou provided food for them, •ad for the beasts, birds, and fishes, with­ out destroying any form of life. Age followed age, and still all was the wane; there had been no dissension, blood had not been spilled, nor had flesh been tasted. The happiness which first came with them was still complete. There ha<| been no loving, passion, or marriage, and though there were both men and women--as now--the secret of sex was unknown. But once has the earth echoed the tread Of a perfect people. Those who came With the first morning, nnd who lived in the Maniton's ways until the passing of the time was beyond man's reckoning, finally had the curses and pangs of wisdom fcrought upon them by the touch of a Woman's hand. The Manitou had commanded his chil­ dren never to enter the valleys, and as long, dark shadows swept over these low places, the people were glad to slay on the sum­ mits in the srinlight. One day, in the season of melting snows, a man whose splendor none excelled climbed farther up one of the highest mountains than he had ever been before. Suddenly great bodies of snow began sliding down the mountain all aronud him, and at length the mass upon which he was standing began moving too. , Straight down toward one of the for­ bidden valleys it went, and the man with it. He knew no danger, save that of dis­ pleasing the Manitou, for danger, like paiu, was altogether unknown among those who dwelt in the mountains. But he could not stop, and the snow bore him en down into the Valley below. There was a great river at his feet which the snow choked, and he was borne safely across and left standing upon the other «ide. He looked back, but the snow was al- »ady washed away by the river, so be Could not return to the summits in that Wav. and some of as die t>f age. Others are bom in their places, though, and our num­ bers increase. Though we suffer we also rejoice. There is more to make us happy than sad. Our lives are unlike yours, but we like ours best. We eat of the birds, the beasts, and the fishes, and find their flesh pleasant to the taste. The pleasures of wisdom ate lpore than its pangs." Her words had no meaning to him, and though she explained them he could not, for a long time, understand the mysteries of birth and death. "You shall go with me to the mountains," he said, "and we will tell these things to my people." "It will not be permitted." » ; * 'f "Why?" , . j "You cannot return. Since you have inet those of the plains, nnd know the Mani­ ton's secrets, yon can never again go to the mountains. These mysteries aie kept from the people there, so that their lives will be as yonrs was, blameless. Telling them what you know would change all. Sorrow would come with wisdom, and thwart the Maniton's plans. They would love, marry, nnd die, as they do on the plains, in the valleys, and on the coasts. Your people cannot be told these things, and you can never again see their faces." While 6he was still- speaking the Mani­ tou came. "Fool of the tnonntains,* he said, the law has come upon you. No more shall you return to the summits, lest you die of my wrath. If knowledge is sweeter than my will, stay here nnd suffer its penalties." When the Maniton was gone the eyes of the man and woman met; they smiled, and then upon his lips he felt the first kiss of his life. Love was so sweet, as the moons came and went, that the wrath of the Maniton was forgotten. They dwelt in content in a lodge which they built near the place where they first met. Their beauty and grace went with thetr days, but their love was still unchanged. As' age came upon them he thought more and more of the mountain people. "They shall know these things," he caid, at last. "One day here is better and sweeter than the endless days there. The Maniton may destroy me, if he will, but not until my people have first heard my voice, and know what I would say." His wife and children, for they \ had many, listened to him, but said no word against his will. They told him that if he went to the mountains, he should not go alone--they would go, too. i "But the Manitou will destroy you also!" he said. "So be it," they answered. And they all went together. The homes of the mountain people were reached at last, and the wonderful story was told. Then the Manitou came in all of his wrath and anger. "That which I have forbidden has been done." he said, in tones so dreadful that all who heard him trembled; "and upon the guilty shall my hand fall. None shall defy the Manitou, and none shall escape his vengeance. Yon who have spoken, and you who have listened shall pass from off the earth. The sorrows and evils of knowledge have been revealed, and you sliaTl have its fruits. Love, birth, and death shall come, but you who have told these things shall suffer most. You shall go through life in changed shape--you and your offspring who come afteryou. Hence­ forth you shall be hideous and monstrous. Flesh shall be eaten, too, but it shall be yourfleiih and that of those who are born of you. Accursed and hunted, you shall know no peace. Go! I have spoken." There was a crash of thunder such as had never been heard before, and a flash ofjightning which blinded every eye. The mountains trembled, andThe snow rushed down into the valleys. There was a roar from the glens and the plains, and an angry murmur in the winds. Bird and beast uttered cries of alarm, and hid themselves. The fishes leaped from the streams. When the glare was gone from their eyes, and the people could see again, the Mauit«u had vanished from sigkL. „* His lodge was rended into fragments. He had passed through the heavens, and they had closed behind him forever. Innocence and purity were gone from the earth, and the mountain people, for a time, were afraid to look into each other's faces. Every one felt a sense of shame and woe and sorrow. When they turned to upbraid these who had brought down the Maniton's wrath upon all, the husband, wife, and children were gone, like the Manitou. In their places several hairy creatures, monstrous and awful, were moaning and pawing the ground. Snorting and bellow­ ing, they ran down the mountain--the first of the vast buffalo herds which after­ ward covered the plains. They have been man's food ever since, and the curse of the Manitou is fulfilled. "I must hasten away," he said. "Why?" asked a voice at his side. "Why must you hasten away?" He turned and stood face to face with a smiling woman. Her skin was much darker than his, and •he was beautiful beyond any one he ever saw before, save the Manitou. "Why must you go?" she asked. "Are you of the mountains--of the Maniton's own people?" No face had ever so bewildered him be­ fore, and no voice had ever so thrilled him. He was moved by new emotions, and his blood leaped through his veins with a new swiftness. The smile upon the lipB and in the eyes of the woman held him like a spell. Every­ thing but the woman and her Btranee beauty was forgotten. The snow still swept down the mountains with a rumble, and the river still roared through the valley. Above him were the Summits he had known since earth's in- fauay, the hqine pf his people and the throne of the Manitou. Yet hqrheeded none of these. "Yea," he answered, "I am of the moun tains, but who are you?" m Still smiling sweetly, the woman put out hands and touched his face. Unre­ sisted, she drew his head forward until it Rested upon her bosom. *1 am a daughter of the plains people," sue said. "Like you, we used to dwell with him in the summits, but he was offended because we songht wisdom, so he sent us away. Some of us stayed in these valleys, and out upon the plains, and others went far away upon the coasts. With ,knowledge came love, sorrow, pain, sick­ ness, death, and war. We also grow old, John Burroughs' " Health Habits." In answer to an inquiry concerning his habits of living, Mr. John Bur­ roughs, widely known as a man of let­ ters, writes: "I gave up the use of meat on the advice of my physician two years ago, and my health has been much better ever since. I find I need less physical exercise, that my nerves are much steadier, and that I have far fewer dull, blank, depressing days; in fact, all the functions of my l>ody are much better performed by abstaining from meat. In summer I make very free use of milk. I eat eggs, oysters, fish and fowl, oat meal, hominy, beans, and a great deal of fruit of all kinds. .When I can get good buttermilk I want no better drink. There is great virtue in buttermilk. One year ago I gave up the use of coffee, and I find I am greatly the gainer by it. Certain periodical headaches with which I was afflicted I attributed to coffee. It seems that the only part of my organization that needs stimulating is the secretive; meat and coff ee clog and hinder these functions, while a meat and vegetable diet favor them. One must study his own animal economy and adapt his habits of eating and drinking and of work to it. What suits me will not suit al^"--Dr. Foote's Health Monthly. Too Late. There was an exultant smile on his face as he walked into tie office of a well-known capitalist, and there was a proud ring in his voice as he said: "For twenty years I have lived from hand to mouth, waiting for something to turn up. It has finally came. I have made a discovery which, if you will back it with a few hundred dollars, will give us both fortunes." "fjtate your case." "Well, sir, I have discovered that banana peelings can be utilized for all kinds of table jellies. A peck of old peelings can be made to bring forth twelve funiblers of the finest currant jell, and the profit is--" "Hold on right there," interrupted the capitalist; "you are just two years too late. A chap in Chicago not only discovered that, but he found a way to work in apple rinds and cores and orange peel, and we can't infringe on his patent." • • "But--" "It's no use. I'd like to see you get along, but you miist drop that. Don't be discouraged, however. Perhaps you can discover a way to make pressed corn beef out of old boot legs. > All you want is a machine to run in the streaks of fat."--Detroit Free Press. ( • tm To BE perpetually longing and impa­ tiently desirous of anything, so that a man cannot abstain from it, is to lose ft man's liberty, and to become a aervMtl to meat and drink, or smoke. FUBSUIT OF "OLD OMIC." Hotf Several Sturdy Kuncori Saved Ctaw- laiid Village from l>e»lrucU'f. Perhaps the prompt action of a few brave and resolute men saved the in­ fant village of Cleveland from destruc­ tion and her population from massacre. But they were men who knew how to act. They had courage, and knew when to strike. They struck a swift and- ttr- rible blow, and safety was made sure. The story has never been told, but it is worth the telling. It comes from an old man, who had all the details undpr oath of secrecy from his father. But a time has come when no harm can be done in the telling, and so to a Cleve­ land Sun and Voice reporter the nar­ ration was given in detail, and in such a manner thai! he knew he was listening to the truth. It was afternoon of the day on which Omic, the Indian, was hung for the murder of a white man. After tjie drop had fallen a terrible rainstorm came swiftly up from the west and drove the crowd of curious people who stood about to shelter. The cord had been cut, the body dropped into the shallow grave in Monumental Park, and a few shovel­ fuls of earth thrown upen it--to lie there until dead of night, when several Northern Ohio doctors were to bear it swiftly away for purposes of their own. Among those who had been in the little village during the execution was the father of Omic, spoken of in those days as "Old Omic." It was but na­ tural to suppose that, savage as he -was, and bad as his son had been, the senti­ ments of human affection were in his heart, and fhat he mourned as other fathers have mourned in such doleful circumstances. He had made a few quiet threats from time to time of ven­ geance. Little attention had been paid to him, but on the afternoon of the fatal day, under the influence of liquor or excitement he had let drop something that showed he had more in his pur­ pose than talk. The revelation he had so unintentionally made came to the ears of Major Lorenzo Carter, the great hunter, and he set out in his char­ acteristic way to find what there was in it. He soon learned that Old Omie had laid a deep and cruel plot for ven­ geance ; that he intended to slip out of the littte village toward night, hasten eastward to a point near the present village of Willonghby, arouse a band of his tribe of Indians who were there encamped, steal backs wiftly and Bilently under cover of night, and massacre the villagers, who would be unprepared and sleeping peacefully. This much Major Carter believed had been de­ cided on. Whether his conclusion was or was not correct can never be known, but there was enough in it to alarm the hardy and experienced mep who were the leading spirits of Cleveland in those days. With them the conclusion Avas soon followed by action^ They made up their minds what to do, and bad no hesitation in its doing. Toward night the old Indian was seen to creep stealthily out of the vil­ lage and take his way hurridly toward the east. His going was known only to a few, and only a few had heard of the errand upon which he had gone. But they had no hesitation as to their course. He had hardly gone a quarter- mile on Euclid road before three , or four stalwart men, well armed, a'nd with Carter in the lead, followed close on his trail.' The old Indian was never seen again by mortal eye--neither by white men in the little village nor by any of his tribe. When morning eame the people of Cleveland awoke in safety. . The little band that had set forth in such silence returned before the dawn of day, went quietly to their homes, and held in their own hearts whatever dark secret had been housed therein. No one asked them any questions--they volunteered no information. There was a tacit understanding in the whole community that the least that wais said the better for all concerned. But we can imagine that somewhere along Euclid Creek or on the hills of May- field a deed of stern necessity and of blood had been done under the silent night, and that one life had been offered up that many, might be saved. Lying in Wait for Simons. **®iat explosion of powder down the river puts me in mind of*a personal ex­ perience," said a Detroiter. "I was liv­ ing in Missouri, and the country store at which I used to trade was kept by a man named Simons. He was a queer, cranky old chap, having his own ideas about everything, and, while he always kept in stock several kegs of gunpow­ der, he insisted on storing them for his own conveinance, without reference to danger. A twenty-five-ponnd keg al­ ways sat on the counter within ten feet of his weighing scales, and the very first time I entered the store, the old man weighed out a pound for .a cus­ tomer and kept a lighted pipe in his mouth all the time. There were twenty people inside, but I was the only one to skip out. The others had got used to it. I felt it my duty to warn Simons against such terrible carelessness. He heard me through and replied: " 'Stranger, mebbe you had better patronize somo other store. I'm most too old to want advice from boys.' "There was no other store within seven miles, and I therefore continued to trade with the old man, though he seemed down on me forever after that. One night I drove up after something and found fully twenty men in the store, most of whom were smoking. There were three kegs of powder on the counter . this time, and • when heard a customer -ask for a pound I slipped out doors and didn't stop run­ ning for half a mile. I waited for half an hour, Kttt no epxlosion took place When I returned most of the men had gone. I got my goods, mounted my horse and set off for the lead mine, wondering how it was that Providence fooled aronpd with the old man so long. I had noticed powder scattered on the counter, and the wooden plug was out of one of the kegs. I w as about a mile away when my horse seemed to be lifted off the ground, and there came a rumble as if ten earthquake had broken loose. Fences along the roadside were leveled, and I heard glass breaking in farm-house windows. I knew what had luippened, and I turned and rode back. When I reached the site of the store there was simply a great hole in the ground. The building had been scat­ tered for half a mile around. Old Simons was found in a potato patch forty rods away, bruised, blackened, broken, and dying, and when we picked him up he gasped out: " 'It's all nonsense to be afraid of the duzned stuff!'"--Detroit Free Press. Next on the List, Do grievous shams lead to explosive protects, as revealed in the gospel of Thorn lit Car'VIA ? "Nnt » •«. Austria, therefore, will probably pre. cede Russia on the list of revolution- riven nations. For one enlightened }>atriot the Muscovites have 10,000 pig-lladed mujiks and hundreds of wolfish officeholders with"" just intelligence enough to |»rn a sheep into mutton. In Austria, on the other hand, Magyar chivalry and German scienee have evolved abundant intelligence of the perilous kind, the kind that insists on investigation and declines to memorize traditional formulas." fhomi* Car.yle ? "Not alwaviv/' re­ plies Herr Nordau. "Foisted "on rev­ erend ignorance, they may last for ages, But in contact with the light pf intelli­ gence they generally provo explosive, Dyak Marriages. The customs of the Dvaks, of Borneo, absolutely prohibit consanguineous mar­ riages, even the marriage of cousins constituting a rank offense, for which the offenders are heavily fined and socially disgraced as well. Marriage could be contracted in this country or in Europe with honor and eclat which would not be permitted for a moment among the aborigines of Borneo in their native jungle. And yet the marriage ceremony is de­ void of any solemn vows and protesta­ tions, certainly destitute of even a spark of religious sentiment, and so simple and absurd as to seem little more than child's play. Indeed, it is so littlo thought of that it might almost be said a couple may go through with almost any. ceremony they please so long as their intention is made public. In some villages a fowl is shaken a certain num­ ber of times over the heads of the yair to be wed; in others, the bride and groom each take a fowl pass it in front of tliem seven times, then cut the throats of both, cook them and eat them. Sometimes a marriage is celebrated by an exchange of bracelets in public, and again by the contracting parties eating a meal of rice, honey, and salt together. Like honest people, it is the' intention of the other that each participant in a marriage relies upon, and the ceremony merely serves to mark publicly the be­ ginning of their marital relation. Marriage usually takes place when a girl reaches the age of 16, and she is always allowed to engineer her own matrimonial schemes and choosd her partner without let or hindrance. Di­ vorce is not uncommon, but scandal, lying, ancl wholesale vituperation are not resorted to to accomplish it. If a pair does not live happily together by reason of laziness on the part of one, or bad temper on the part of the other, the dissatisfied party leaves the other, and, after a fine is paid over by the dis­ satisfied party to the original offender, both ar,p free and at liberty to marry again. Separations to wliich both are opposed sometimes take place soon after the marriage, in obedience to cer­ tain recognized signs such as the bark­ ing of a dee^, which foretell tho death of one of the parties if they do not separate. In all his social relations the Dyak is a philosopher, free from gnawing jealousy and yearning for se- clusive and perpetual possession. If one wife leaves him he girds up his loins literally, and coolly seeks another and a better one. Although he greatly enjoys his wife's society and co-opera­ tion in his pursuits on the farm, if she leaves he does not allow her absence to disturb his serenity. The loss of his children affects him much more, for they are his hope and trust.--William T. Hornaday. Judges in Satin Gowns. The judiciary all wear big, flowing gowns, made like a bisliop's gown, of black satin. To see nine of these mighty, dignified, and awesome gentle­ men strung out all in a row in their big arm chairs, all glaring sternly--in their official character, mind, for in private life some of them are the most delight­ ful and gracious of men--down on a poor little mouse of a lawyer is a spectacle that had always a fascination for me. I used to go in again and again to delight in this tableau. Natur­ ally I scraped acquaintance with the doorkeeper, and one day, as I was slipping out, he asked me, in a hospita­ ble way, why I didn't stop longer. I told him frankly the speeches were so" dull, and then besought him to let me know some day when a really eloquent lawyer was going to make a fine speech. He threw back his head and began an uproarious laugh, recollected that sound travels, looked scared, clapped his hand to his mouth, and when duly composed, answered: "Bless your soul, man, , they don't make fine speeches in there--they expound the law." And I humbly admitted that for the first time in my life I became aware that in the Supreme Court of the United States the judiciary listen to the law--not eloquence nor rhetoric. Once a lawyer as green as I got up to address the Supreme Bench. He began with quotations, flourishes, and a gush of pathos. One of the <'Mr. Justices" stopped him. "We want nothing but the law, sir," he said.-- Washington Gar* Philadelphia Press. Indian Sword Performers. The favorite sword for performing feats in India is the gauntlet-handled pata. The swordsman will first show the keenness of his weapon and his command of its weight by cutting in two a leaf laid flat on the outstretched palm of a friend or by cutting a cloth hanging loose in the air. He will put one sword on each hand, and, so arined, springing from his feet on the bare ground, will throw somersaults back­ ward and forward, following each move­ ment with a wondrously complicated and simultaneous gyration of both swords around his head and body. He will have the naked sword, more than five feet long, double-edged, sharp- pointed, «nd keen as a razor, lashed from the back of his neck down his back, and will again, from his naked feet, repeat the somersaults. Again, with sword and shield in his hands, he will leap headforemost through the stretched-out loop of rope, held by two men at the height of their heads, as a circus-rider leaps through the paper hoop, and light safely on his feet. Small wonder if the gaping crowd of spectators applauds vociferously; that the carpet of the plucky athlete is soon covered with a harvest of small change; and that the recurring festivals, with these profitable opportunities, prevent the knowledge of the old sword play from dying out.--Blackwood's Maga­ zine. - ' - Knew the Pen He Wanted. A serious-looking young man went into a book-store and called for some pens. After he had spent much time in examining them, the store-keeper said: "Is there any particular pen you wish?" "Yes, but I don't know that I'd know it if I were to see it." "Do you know the name?" "Yes, I think so," taking a newspaper clipping out of his pocket and scanning it. ^ "This says that Col. Baxter always writes with a trenchant pen, so let me see, sojne trenchant pens, please."--- Arkansaw Traveler. 0 Thrift of Soul hern Negroes. In Georgia alone last year the colored people paid taxes on more than $10.- 000,000 worth of property, says Frank Barr in the New York World. They likewise own over 700,000 acres of real estate. Up to 1880 the negroes of the same State only paid taxes on $5,500,- 000 of property, and owned only about half as much real estate as they to-day return. In other words, the ex-slaves of Georgia have accumulated as much property within the last five years as they did during the fifteen years fol­ lowing upon the heels of the war ai|d their release from bondage. It is esti­ mated that the colored voters of Geor­ gia, taken as a whole, own more than ten acres of land per capita, and more than $100 worth of property. For a people only a little more than twenty years out of slavery this is a remark­ able showing. Naturally they have had to fight, not only against their own but against the prejudices of the white people as well. The number of acres of land returned per capita by the negroes of Georgia ia larger than that returned by the laboring people in any other section of the country. This is another one of the reasons old Dixie is becoming new. Here is another. When the war broke out the entire South paid less than $10,- 000,000 per annum to agricultural labor. Last year the planters of the State of Georgia alone paid about $40,000,000 to the freedmen who tilled their fields. Doubtless in the entire section below the Potomac River $150,000,000 was spent for a like purpose. This, how­ ever, is only an estimate, for the State of Georgia is not a fair example of the balance of the South. It is considerably further advanced in material progress than any of the other sunny States. The whites and blacks are both better off. But hr a great degree the remark­ able showing made by the colored peo­ ple there only illustrates the general advancement along the whole line. The story of material development is indeed an interesting one. The division of large estates into small farms in­ creases the _ population as well as the wealth. It is the negroes who are get­ ting the small holdings. Property sold at public sale is very liable to be bought by the colored people and di­ vided into small properties. A man cultivating a few acres of land raises more cotton to the acre than the man who undertakes to plant a great acre­ age with hired labor. This very fact is One of the reasons for the "mighty changes that are developing this old region into a new land. One of the re­ grets of the old Southerner is this tendency to the breaking up of large tracts of land into small farms. But it is rapidly growing, and sooner or later the old plantation, as it was known be­ fore the war, will be a thing of the past. -The condition of the negroes is not all rose-colored, despite what I. have written. The bulk of them are not provident. They are too fond of sport, and live from day to day. Yet as large a percentage of them are as thrifty as of the lower order of laborers who come to this country from foreign shores. The number of negroes who accumulate is growing every year. The negro's ac­ quisition of property and his general disposition to work for himself have forced the whites into a recognition of his value to them as a laborer. They find that as he adds to his property he evinces a lively interest in law ahd order. He is the first to insist upon punishment for petty larceny, and as every year he accumulates more wealth he compels respect for his rights be­ cause of his independence and power to contribute to the general welfare. Mr. Lincoln and the Reporter. The only Avar Governors left alive are Curtin, of Pennsylvania; Kirkwood, of Iowa; Ramsey, of Minnesota; Sprague, of Rhode Island; Gregory Smith, of Vermont; Stanford and Low, of Cali­ fornia, and Berry, of New Hampshire. I met some fifteen of these worthies once all together, under peculiar cir­ cumstances. It was in 1863, and I was reporting events in AVasliington for a New York paper. Mr. Lincoln invited the Governors of the Northern States to meet him. Most of them came. That morning Gov. Buckingham said to me: "Why don't you come up to the White House with us ? I'm sure there'll be no objection." I went up and" asked Mr. Lincoln. "No," he said cheerily, "come right along. I haven't a thing to say that I want kept from the public." So I went up with Buckingham, and sat with the assembly in the State dining-room. But I felt a little out of place, so, not to be disguised, I pulled out my note­ book and began to write. "Are we all Governors?" asked Gov. Morton, rising, and looking somewhat severely at me. "I am not a Governor," I said, "but a reporter." "Well, I don't know about this," said the Indianian, and. I rose to go. "I am responsible," said Gov. Buckingham; "he came with me." To relieve them and myself from the embarrassment I was hurrying away, when Mr. Lincoln said: "Wait a minute, yovng man." And then he stated that I had applied to him in the morning as to the advisability of being present, and he had given his consent. "For I don't intend to say anything to­ day that is secret in any sense," he added, "and I thought we might just as well take the peqple into our con­ fidence. However, it is for y&u, gentle­ men, to say." The position had become intolerable to me and I bolted. I never knew what further was said about it, but Gov. Buckingham £ave me a report that night.--Washington Post. Girls In College Towns. Every small college town contains a a number of young ladies, more or less great, whose inevitable fate is to die old maids. In early youth they begin their social careers w ith college stu­ dents as the principal figures in them. The chief incidents are engagements to the students, one by one. Usually the engagements end in nothing but "blasted hopes." The students return to their homes, and leave their san­ guine sweethearts to discover that they must try again. The writer has in mind a lovely little town among the "knolm" of Kentucky, in which, during his college days, there was a battalion of the fair sex, each from 25 to SO years of age, and each husbandless. They had been deceived by each suc­ cessive generation of students for a period of years ranging from ten to fif­ teen. They were still hopeful. That mother who desires that the oppor­ tunities for marriage shall !>e for her daughter's equal to those of other young ladies should never consent to live in a small college town.--Atlanta Consti­ tution. You can measure a hqsband's dis­ comfort by the hen peck.--Pittsburgh Chronicle. Talking About Hens. A Rochester man named Muggs visited some friends who live on a farm. Mr. Muggs is not only a man of more than average intelligence, but he is also of an inquiring turn of mind, and while* he was visiting on the farm he managed to pick up a good deal of valuable information by asking ques­ tions abont things. The first day that he was there he went around with the farmer to look at the stock. One of the first things that excited his curiosity was a hen that was on a nest under the end Of a luml»er-pile. "This must be a hen," «aid Muggs, confidently. "It is," said the farmer. "She seems to be taking life pretty ©*8y," ventured Muggs. "Quite' the contrary," said the farmer. "She is busy." "Laying an egg, probably,"suggested Muggs. "Probably not," said th6 fanner. She is setting.*1 Then Muggs made ijome patronizing remark to the hen, and reached down to stroke the fur on her neck. The hen was busy, but not too busy to keep an eye on Muggs, and when his hand came within reach she picked a small piece of skin off from it. Muggs took his hand away with wonderful quick­ ness and put it into his pocket. Then lie stood and contemplated the hen in- silence for several minutes. At length ^ he said: "I suppose hens seldom have hydro­ phobia?" *• "Seldom," saidthe farmer. "But when they do have it they have it pretty bad, don't they?'* inquired Muggs, with considerable anxiety. " "Oh, you needn't be alarmed," said tiie farmer. "The hen is mad, but not in that way. Her fangs are not poison­ ous." "I suppose, now," said Maggs, "that an industrious,. persistent hen like that will hatch out a chicken every day, and not feel it." "Thereis a difference in hens," said the farmer. "Some hens set harder than others, and hatch chickens faster. I have got one that hatched out a brood of chickens, last summer, in ten days. She never stopped for Sundays or legal holidays, but just kept right at it. But it wasn't a very good job because it was rushed too much. Nine of the chickens were foolish and the other foor were not any too bright. You see, they were not expecting it, and they seemed to be sort of dazed-- couldn't understand how they got here BO soon. They would stand around in Br half-witted kind of a way and try to figure it out, but they never seemed to understand it at all." "I should think," said Mttggs thought- fnlly, "that chickens hatched so fast as that would be apt to mature quickly.-- , get old while they are young, as it were." "Exactly--they do," said the farmer. "You remember that I bought a couple of spring-chickens of you last fall," said Muggs, still more thought­ fully, as if an idea had occurred to him." "Yes, I remember," said the farmer, who was also beginning to have an idea. "What of it?" "Oh, nothing; only I thought per- haps they, belonged to this brood thafr you have been speaking about. We broiled them a couple of days and then gave them to my boy to cut up into bean-shooters." A coolness has since existed between Muggs and the farmer.--Rochester Herald. Wild Hunters* One traveler tells of having Witnessed the pursuit and destruction of a large leopard by a pack of wild dogs. Whether or not the dogs had set out with the intention of capturing .the leopard, he could not tell. He saw them start up the great cat in a low jungle. The leopard made no effort at first to fight off its asailants; but, with a series of prodigious springs, sought shelter in the only refuge the plain afforded--a tree wliich had partially fallen. There the hunted beast stood, snarl­ ing and growling in a manner that would have frightened off any ordinary foe. The savave dogs, however, never hesitated a moment, but with agile leaps ran up the sloping trunk, and gave instant battle to their furious game. One after another, the dogs were hurled back, each stroke of the terrible paw making one foe the less. Yet they continued to throw themselves against the enraged creature, until, wearied by the contest and wounded in fifty places, it fell from the tree; when, still struggling, it was quickly torn to pieces. It must not be supposed, however, that the wild dog usually . prefers as formidable game as the leopard. A sheep-fold is an attraction too great for the wild dog to pass. And now, after calling this wild hunter a dog, I shall have to say that it is not a dog at all, but is only a sort of cousin to the dog, and really a nearer relative to the hyena, though it so re­ sembles both animals as to have gained " the name of hyena-dog. Its scientific name is Lycaon venations; and be­ sides the two common names already mentioned, it has half a dozen more.-- John K Coryell, in St. Nicholas. An Unsuccessful Strike. The striking mania reached a colored preacher in a town in Mississippi, and he arose before his congregation and said: "ChiU'en, I'ze bin tryin' hard to preach de gospel on $2 a week, an' I'ze got discouraged. You has either got to raise the salary to $3, or I'ze gwine to go out an' skirmish for hogs an' chick­ ens 'long wid de res' of you an' take my chances of gwine to Heaven." By a unanimous vote of the congrega­ tion it was decided to continue the sal­ ary at $2 and let him skirmish.--Wall Street News. Pneumatic Lightning. A new method of lightning, called the pneumatic system, has been de­ scribed by a Frenchman, M. Bender. He employs the fatty residues obtained from the rectification of crude mineral oils, through which he passes a current of air. The air takes up a definite quantity of this hydro-carbon, and the flame produced is very brilliant, giving off no smoke. Cheapness and immu­ nity from explosions are advantages claimed. Too True. "Where does charity begin?" howled the orator. >. "It begins," said a squint-eyed mjui, rising in the audience, "with the paying of salaries of those who collect it, and if there is anything left over, those for whom it was collected get a chance at it."--.Boston Courier. WR i.re in favor of putting the tele­ graph wires and the Anarchists under the ground.--Peoria Transcript. PBOUD looks make foul work in fair faces. PITH A3H> POIKT. A MAN who has a scolding nife Bays he is going through the journey of life by rail. SOME inquisitive person asks: "What does a man make by getting married?" Well, he generally n akes the fire. 'THOSE meif :• ; "TMrtk I'll ttfN down to Hastings for a change." "Take the missus?" "I said 'For; a change!'" PBOF. JONES lectures oijr the "Use- lessnees of Profanity." - Apparently he never weMt flfching, in thtf awe aftd moe- quiio'&agiph: --Boston, "Coitfierl A "^-YEAR-OLD boy, just 'fbcovering from the effects of vaccination, said: "Now-I ain't afraid x>f having the small­ pox (after a moment's reflection), but I may have the celluloid, though." THE Norristowu Herald says, with reference to avoiding old age; "To die yotmg is an infallible rule."" . Yet .the paradoxical feature of this rule is, that people wait until they are prematurely old before they dye young.--Texas Siftings. * IN reply to the question, "What is meant by the 'heated term?'" we would remark that "Go to blazes!" "Thunder and lightning!" "Fire 'em out!" etc., are all heated terms of more or less adaptability to the demands of eloquence.-- Yonkers Gazette. "A WOMAN'S REASON." ' A woman's reason? I explain f The mystery of the laws Which dominate the female brain, - The well-spring whence she draws C : '<-<*. , v; The "inspiration"? Nay, refrain! ' " Tempt not thy fate, but pAnse s, Know, dotard, that thy quest is vain *v '* And be content, adventurous swain, * '* With--"Oh! because." --S.D. Osborne, in the Judge. •• POMPEY took little Ethel to see ilia last batch of chickens making their first appearance in the world. "I won­ der'they've got the strength to break their way out of the shell." "Why, ze see, Miss Ethel," said Pompey, sagac­ iously, "dey makes a mighty big effort at last 'case dey's afeard o' bein' biled if dey stay longer." RULES FOR COURTSHIP. . • , The youth who would a pretty maiden w6i6 * Will profit if he keeps these rules in vie#^- Be not precipitate, nor yet too slow, Be not abashed at a rebuff or so; - If she is unresponsive, distant, oold. The wooer mnat be delicately bold. If she is timid, diffident, and shy*. Don't fret--she'll find more courage by and hy. Let not her first refusal give distress A woman's no is often meant for yes. --Boston Courier. "CAPTAIN," said the assistant in a law office as the proprietor entered, "here is a bill from Legalblank & Co. for some law books." "Those books never came, and I'm not going to pay the bill." "But they write you a ." "I don't care--I'm not going to pay for something I never got. What did you say?" "It commences 'Col. Jimcrack, Yankton, Dakota ." " 'Col.' Jim- crack is it?" "Here's the letter, Cap­ tain." "Well, well, that's so, sure enough. Col. Jimcrack don't sound so out of place after all, does it? Well, better send them the amonnt, I never like to kick on a small sum.--Estelline Belt. WHY THE NAME WAS CHOSEN. To village priest a tender babe Some rustic parents brought ( And laid their boy within his arms In garments love had wrought. .* 'Tis time we had the child baptized; It is for that we came." "Well," said the parson, with a smile, "Pray, what shall be bis name?" "Oh, sir I if you but view bis faca, You'll see that for our son There's but one name that seemeth And that is Solomon." But vainly did the parson seek. In that Hweet baby fa?e. The likeness to old Israel's king* ~ T h e p a r e n t s c l a i m e d t o t r a c . . i •imagine, then, his great surpriMb For reasons more than one, When thus the riddle they explained, "He's such a solemn-'un!" --Boston Transcript. Thoughtful Benevolence. This would be a glad world if every . creature in it were to do all he could to lessen pain and increase happiness. It is astonishing how much suffering can be prevented by a little attention of the right kind at the right moment. An audience of 3,000 people may be kept in,misery for two hours if the janitor does not watch his thermometer; or a whole play-ground full of well- disposed boys may be tormented by one half-civilized bully. On the other hand, a large party goes offbeautifully, simply because the director of the entertain­ ment has taken thoughtful pains to have it go off so. Some people seem to have a lovely genius for diffusing happiness around them. They are themselves so engag­ ing that only to be near them is a de­ light. Most of us, however, if we would enjoy the happiness of making others happy, must try to do it. We must avoid and remove causes of pain; we must in­ vent and provide the means of enjoy­ ment. The most usual cause of failure in this particular comes from not thinking. The evening lamp is distressing a pair of aged eyes; a thoughtful person quietly places a screen so as to shelter them from the piercing light. "Why didn't I think of that? "whis­ pers the onlooker to himself. Think­ ing of it is the rare accomplishment. Anybody can perform the trifles of household benevolence; the merit lies in not forgetting to do them. Mr. Andres Carnegie, one of the iron kings of Pennsylvania, mentions two facts which illustrate what a little thought may do to mitigate the human lot. One of the workmen in the em­ ployment of his company happened to allude to the increased cost of groceries through having to buy on credit, wages being paid only once a month. "Well," said Mr. Carnegie, "whycan­ not Ave overcome that by paying every two weeks?" "We did not like to ask it," replied the man, "because we have always un­ derstood that it would cause much trouble; but if you do that, it woidd be worth an advance of 5 per cent, iirtrar wages." \ , The change was made at onge, afrd now the custom prevails in many man­ ufacturing centers of paying wages every week. Millions of men have desired that for sixty years. A little thoughtful good nature would have sufficed to be­ stow the boon two generations ago. From another man, at the same inter­ view, Mr. Carnegie was surprised to learn that poor meh who bought a few bushels cf coal at a time paid just twice the price which his company paid. One moment's kindly thought remedied this grievance. "How easy for us," said the Presioent of the company, "to deliver coal to our men in small quantities at cost!" So said, so done. And as such ideas are exceedingly contagious, a very large number of iron masters now provide their men with coal on the same.terms. There are few things more catching than wise benevolence. It beats the scarlet fever. Despite all appearances to the contrary, the deepest thing in man is the love he bears his fellow-man. --Youth's Companion. * WHEN a man is climbing tiie ladder of fame he likes rounds of applause.