Upl^ S" ' V- '?•: E'** 1P0 OOFTHOU-OXDLCX-TLL f-tul#M«r should be i«| «fa* NMfeor; not nacMMrflr f»' I »i>WHI »t ffood tilth on the |HU ; > of the paper. B< j ghtwg WW >•* da^w. to ham, tiMtMpMsMpMiteat jiitlact TBt«CSOOL.!IAK)t1l BI««V. ** WOI^TAN DIXKV. 4 fronr chtll tH tn th» air flow plainly I remembit- : iW bright autumnal Area had pale®* _8ave lien aad there tn ember; * - m«ky looked M, the bills wn hirej," JMttm were token* everywhere Ttuttft bad come--December. Xtock*d the time-worn school honae doo|, Tbe'HI'eire fei ta of learnlnir, tenw the smooth, we!l-trodden path . My homeward frotntepa tnrnlnnf, , , ltjr Mart a troubled qneotlon borfe v , Am In my mind, *« oft before, .. A vwchiK thonsht was bnrnlng. * "Why is It np hiil all the way?" , Tha* ran my meditation; The Iwwons had none wrong And 1 tad lost.my paticno "Is there BO way-to soften care, And make It easier to bare , ' " L fe'e sorrows and vexations?" Aoropp my pathway, thronjrhthe WB04p* A fallen tree wan lying; On tliis there sat two little girls. And one of them was cry njr, X heard her f-ob: "And it' I conld I\# (rat my lessons awful (rood; Bat what's the use of trying?" And then the little hooded head - IBank on the other's shoulder. The little weper qonpht the arms ». That opened UJ enfold her. Against the young heart kind and true, mm nestled close, and neither knew 11 was a beholder. •i .:«fe Aad then I heard---ah! ne'er was known Such judgement without malic* >• Nor < mcenlier council ever heard In Senate boose or palac1!-- "1 should have foiled there, ! am sure, Dont bediaoonraged, try onee mere; And I will help you, Alice." "And I will help yon." This Is how - To soften care and grieving; Lite is made easier to bear By helping and by giving. Hire was the answer I had sought, And 1, the teacher, being taught The secret of true living. If "I will hrlp you" were the rule. How changed beyond all mea«uf# Life would become! Each heavy load Would be a golden treasure; < Pain and vex tion be forgot; Hope would prevail in every lot, And life be only pleasure. f r --TreMsure Trove. r s- . r , •V % "f , hi' :"P" ILL life'8: W • Mo. SPARROW'S CONFESSIONAL. The Rev. Mr. Sparrow sat down to consider. He planted his elbows firmly on the window-sill and liis retreating chin firmly on his hands. The harvest moon shone- in and madn of him a pleasant sight, not unlike a short, plump Tom Pinch of immortal memory. Most of his hair had-been a thing of the past for a ft>ng time, but, as far as appear ances went, his ifiild bine eye# and ex pressive month made ample amends. He was clad in the severest of severe clerical garbs, and wore about him, in spite of that superabundant plumpness, the unmist akable .ascetic air which con stant prayer, meditation, and frequent fasting can give to any face or physique. The room, now softly flooded with the moonlight, was as b<tre as the ne cessities of life permitted. A small Iron bedstead, a little table holding some books of devotion, a crucifix on the wall, a modest chest of clothing-- that was about all. A man of small wardrobe and large charities, of pity for all except himself, of enthusiasm, hope, and impracticability--that was the Rev. John Sparrow, rector of St. James*. He had found tbis parish five years ago what in ecclesiastical phrase ology is termed rather "low." In fact, he was rather "low* then himself. He and the pariah had risen together. One startling «tep had followed another so fast that the conservative members of the congregation had been too stunned to remonstrate. The bowings, and crossings, and altar drapery were a tight to behold. A taste of a high ritual acted as an appetizer to the kogers for an attractive service. A boy choir, consisting of seven some- what ̂ stolid urchins from the charity •chool, served to satisfy for a while. How, they and their cassocks and sur plices had palled upon the taste. Serena Sherman had been known to firmly and unreservedly declare that she really did net see so very much out of the way in the Papal infallibility, while two bright and shining Vestrymen had been detected in the act of surreptitiously visiting the Roman Catholic church around the corner. The line must be drawn somewhere. Mr. Sparrow drew it at Rome. The Ijtmbs of his flock must have a counter- irritant.. But what? Some clouds were flitting over the face of the moon, so these queries and perplexities seemed to obscure this little man's visage, ordinarily so serene. An irresolute tap at the door made him start. It was his hard-featured housekeeper. He had selected her out of a drove of applicants as being of the requisite age and ugliness. She handed him a card on which was hurriedly , penciled: "Will Mr. Sparrow see one of his people for a few minutes on a matter pertaining to the safety of her soul ?" "The safety of a soul!" He would have risen from his dying bed at that plea. What mortal sin had she -been committing? Thoughts of battle, murder and sudden death careered through his mind. He brushed his scanty hair, tad brushed it rather crookedly, what there was of it He had about him no Cttch panderer to vanity as a mirror. Miss Sherman and another young Ionian awaited him down stairs. As a general thing he would have frowned tujon this untimely visit, as much as the iSev. Mr. Sparrow could frown - upon anything; but the spell of the beauty of the night, or the reverie at the win dow', was still upon him. _ Sherman, addressing him as "Father," made known her errand at once. The ritualistic mania was visible in her words and manner. "Father, I should have waited until norning," she said, "but I could not. fmight have died in the night with this matter weighing me down." Mr. Sparr ow shuddered, but secretly resolved that even if it were murder he Would be her friend. "'Free your mind at once, my daugh ter." He tried to look as indifferently 8[ a well regulated celibate ought upon ils pretty, troubled face, but did not flucceed very well. And this com- ion---was she an accomplice ? Well, would stand by them to^ the bitter We are all miserable sinners, is a doctrinal point, Father." Se drew a long breath of relief, and ft would not have been a thing with- sation to have consoled this woman if the world forsook *1 have been reading upon t^e doc- tone of confession for a long1 while. 'Che last book has settled my views for- t*r. I «£m convinced, and do believe e spoke as if reciting the Creed), _ slit ie necessary to my soul's health ftp confess my sins without reserve. And .Sparrow [it&truek him as fatally om- fSMtt that she addressed him thus] if I mmt caririot haw tlria help otherwise I must go where it is to be found." Mr. Sparrow flew to arms. "Oh! my dear young friend [she was five years lus junior] do nothing rash! I see your doubts and longings, and I admit that they are not groundless.-In fact, I have had them myself." He spoke as if he deferred to the measles. "Yes, I have had my struggle, and have come to the ^con elusion that unreserved and sys tematic avowal of fur sins and the proper absolution or penance is not only salutary but needful. Indeed, when called down stairs just now I had iabout decided to establish this ancient and apostolic custom as soon as practio- sable." Miss Sherman clapped her hands rap turously, and was speechless for several moments# "No, I will not be rash, ^Father, but be brave and wait. You know that I am at heart a true Anglican. It is only a sensative conscience that is ^driving me." She forgot that pluming one's self upon an irreproachable con science is hardly the proper thing for a -^earner after holiness. f But Mr. Sparrow was blind. Her pretty, egotistical chatter of herself and jher opinions was music in his ears, There was no excuse for lingering1 longer, as pleasant as it was tc both. "Come, Jenny," she said. "And it's your shawl you are forget- ting, mum," answered Jane, the Sher- 3man kitchen maid, who had been brought along tck lend propriety to the Interview. The rector was disturbed. |Had he been talking of things spiritual before one of the Pope's emissaries? *\Vell, at least he hoped that what she liad heard had been to her supersti tious mind a benefit. i He bowed his callers out and went back to his window, but the former train of thought was broken. Instead Of the sacred themes upon which he had been dwelling at the favorite medi tative hour was the vision of an earnest Unouth and two melting eyes. He rose in pained chagrin, went to Jiis driest theological books, and in them at last forgot all feminine'graces, and even, for the time, the soul's health of Serena Sherman. * * * * * The new departure was announced to the congregation the following Sunday, and was received with different degrees of scorn and approbation. Two mal contents got up and strode out of church, but to the worthy man in the surplice a radiant face in the Sherman pew was for this insult an offset. So he had officially. announced at last that penitents would be received from 3 to 9 Saturdays! A little flurry of conscious heroism made his cheeks tingle. He really felt like a soldier on duty, and, while making an allusion in the sermon which followed to the senti nel found at his post in the Roman ruins, mentally compared himself to that time-honored and tiresome indi vidual. He afterwards dined with the Sher mans in a 'louse hardly redeemed from the commonplace by Serena's olive- colored embroideries, sprinkled around without method. They chatted for a short hour after ward while the father of the family dozed unblushingly and the mother guiltily took short and sly naps in her chair. It was a golden hour. A thin religious vftl drawn over the conversa tion seemed to make it harmless in the eyes of the rector who had all but vowed to lead a single life. One sub ject predominated. "The people will say harsh things," said Serena. "Let them; I do not care. When they realize the worth of the confes sional and see what a help it is to holi ness, they will gladly give the com mendation they withhold at first." He, as they say in novels, drew him self up to his full height, which was not very high, and beamed like a martyr at the stake. ' "But they will laugh." Ah, that was different. Persecution is one thing, ridicule another. He flushed. "There will always be those who will laugh at the truth. But, my dear friends, if I can be sure that there is one person who sees the matter as I do, one heart which beats in sympathy with mine, I shall have strength to go forward." "You may be sure of that," she an swered pointedly, and then, the snores indicating that the parental siestas were still in progress, a soft hand stole into liis and was not repulsed. So this pair of unconscious lovers twittered away about the state of the church, the last new quirk in vest ments, and the Christmas music. The next morning the incumbent of St. James might have been seen in close and confidential confab with a cabinet-maker. He was not going to do any half-way work, not he; no r< • tailing of peccadilloes in the open church before the eves and in the ears of waiting penitents, as was the custom in "high" circles elsewhere. A struc ture not unlike a commodious wardrobe was planned and ordered. All the week was required in which to make it. It could not be done in the ohurch; the pounding would interfere with daily matins and evensong, and shavings strewn about are not conducive to an exalted religious state. Saturday morning, before the earliest risers were astir, a mysterious-looking object was deposited at the church door. Men and boys of the "tin-pail brigade" going to their work heard sounds within the sacred edifice, and wondered " what the crank was up to now." Mr. Sparrow went to his bach elor breakfast, his air of bravado still upon him. At "matins," at which were present three women and a small boy, he did not flinch. There were stealthy looks at the confessional box, and the small boy giggled, but was instantly lenced by his Aunt Serena, who had him in tow. By dinner-time the pastor was nervous and had no relish for the indifferently- cooked meal set before him by the queen of the kitchen. At 2 o'clock he was at the church waiting. Three o'clock came and his heart was a trip-hammer Four o'clock; not a soul. Five o'clock --he shut the church-door with a per ceptible slam. Evidently his experi ment was a failure so far. He would not admit, even to himself, that he was disappointed because Serena had not come. Each person was waiting for some other to take the initiative, pos sibly, but it was discouraging. At his house, lying on his table by the side of his worn volume of Thomas a Kempis, he found a letter. On the envelope was wirtten "The confession of Serena Sherman," The pudgy fingers trembled as they tore it open. Far be it from us to prv into such a confidential epistle, but we know from subsequent events that in it Serena placed herself, her heart, and her embroideries at the feet of her plump pastor. It was intimated ai the begining of this, modest tale that Mr. Sparrow posteaaad ̂ chin. - At any n4*t« marvelottk eha»ge in his optriioas jwm born that uittvte. Celibacy-aemtted ao drear a thi&ft, so useless A tfcl&ft. ao worse than ̂ isel&ss, for a wile oqnld be of infinite help$n the work of theonnreh. Then he went and borrowed a look ing-glass of his housekeeper. It was not aagood glass and made his face look awry, but he did not. know it. He thought with shamo of the fumry box of which he had been so proud m the morning. He brushed his long-tailed coat and betook himself Serena-Ward. She saw him coming from an improvised watcli-towet up-stairs and ran to meet him. Then this disbeliever in a mar ried clergy took both her hands and kissed her. . "We have been making a mistake all the while." "Yes, John; and yen truly, truly, truly, do not think me unmaidenly ?" "Bless you, no; yon were an angel sent to open these blind eyes. But I caunot help but wonder, dear, at this sudden change," indicating doubtless some remark in her letter. "Oh, John, after you really got the confessional it did seem so silly." The Rev. John looked sheepish, but happy. "There is time yet to-night to take it away." • • ; "And don't let us eve^say another word about it." ' * Late that night the sound of ham mers was once more heard in the Gothic edifice on C--- street, and a bulky and strange object was soon stored in the spare room of the rectory. That was ten years ago. The parish of St. James is called rather "low" again. There was a lack of closet- room in the minister's house, and Mrs. Serene keeps her silk dresses and little John's Sunday suit in Mr. Sparrow's confoaawnal.--Chicago Tribune, The Countryman. A countryman called at the office and wanted to know if we wanted some items of news. We told him we did. "Well," said he, "I think I oan give, you some." After depositing a well, chewed cud of tobacco as Jprge as a goose egg on the corner of the stove, he proceeded to replenish his mouth with one of equal proportions. Then spitting a few quarts of amber on our new carpet, said: "Did you ever hear of thunder and lightning turning sweet milk sour." We told him that we had heard of such things, but did not believe much in thunder souring milk as much ae un clean vessels. "That is one of the items I was going to give you," said he. We told liim to proceed. Said he: "You remember one night last week when it rained all night hard, and thundered and lightinge4 AM night ?" " .• We told him* we guessed we did. "Well, the next morning the old woman went out to milk and pretty soon she came in with a couple of pails of sour milk, fresh from the cows. The storm was so strong that it soured the milk in their bags. How is that for an item?" We told him that was pretty good, and we would like to have another. "Well, we have a Sycamore tree about fifty feet from our front gate. It is pretty tall, about seventy-five feet to the first limb, and the grain runs pretty near straight around it. The lightning struck the tree, and it took half an hour before the lightning got to the ground, fire and splinters flying all^he time." "That is good, give us another." _ "Well, the old woman had a hen set ting on some eggs down in the grass by the barn. One night some animal car ried the old hen off, and in the morning we found a big rattle snake coiled up on the eggs. The old woman concluded to let the snake alone and see what he would wdo. In about ten days every one of the chickens was out and doing well. The sntke goes around through the grass and whenever he finds a worm or a bug gives his tail a rattle, and yon ought to see the chickens run. At night he coils himself on the nest, and the chickens all gather around him, some under and some on top. He seem to enjoy the little ones. The chickens themselve seem to be well pleased with their new guardian. How is that for an item ?" said he. We told him that would do for this time, and to call again.--St. Joe Grip.. An Aquatic Team. • One of the most novel teams on rec ord is owned by a boy in Tehama. The young fellow's flyers are nothing more nor less than two large sturgeons, which were caught by his father in the Sacramento river. He has fastened the end of a strong rope to the tail of each fish, and the other end is fastened to the bow of an eighteen-foot boat. Two cords, fastened in some manner to the heads of the fish, serve as reins, and the owner of the team guides his fishy charge up or down the stream at will. The first day the "water horses" were hitched up they "bucked" with all the energy of thoroughbred untamed Mexican mustangs, jumping and plung ing out of the water, and digging down as far as their, harness would permit. But they have been broken splendidly, and cause no trouble to their proud driver. When they are not in use, the fish are driven into a large Wooden cage, which was made expressly for them.-- Chico (Cal•) Record, Teaching a Chili! Sympathy. A mothers/instead of letting her child whip and otherwise punish an ar ticle on which it has hurt itself, taught it to be sorry for the poor piece of wf»oA, bound up the bruise with pened cloths, and also bandaged article on which the babe had hurt itself. In thiB way a sympathy was ere ated so strong that when grown to child hood it was part of the child's niAure, and he had been seen, when he thought himself alonj^and unobserved, to kiss the thing on which he had been hurt. If sympathy is given to a piece of wood, is it not reasonable to suppose that when manhood is reached, the same feeling will be given to his fellow men? --"Phil," in Detroit Free Pren9» IN some of the painting* and woven devices of textile fabrics made by the ancient Peruvians (who are a nation of cai i aturi <ts) comical delineations of cats and birds are common. In some of these figures the tail of the animal terminated in a bird's head. I PITY the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cuy, 'tis all barren--and so it is, and so is all the world to him who will not cultitate the fruits it offers.--Sterne. A Steamboat WMeh KxaftMUMteraat ThrmigtMMi tlto Civil!**! tVMrM. No steamboAl raoe ever excited so much intesest tttrouahout ohrilized world aa that which took plaoe between the Robert E. Lw and Natchez in June, 1870, from New Orleans to St. Louis. On the 24th of that month Capt. T. T. Leathers telegraphed Capt. Perry Tliarp, of this city, that tho Natchez had arrived at St. Louis, having over come the distance from New Orleans, 1,278 miles in three days, twentv-one hours and fifty-eight minutes. jFrom the time tlmt she was built at Cincin nati much rivalry in regard to speed had been exhibited between her and the Robert E. Lee, which was bnilt at New- Albany during the war and Was towed across the river to the Kentucky side to have her name painted on her wheel- houses, a measure of safety that was deemed prudent at that exciting time. Both boats had their friends and ad mirers, as did the captains of both. Capt. John W. Cannon, who died at Frankfort, Kv., about a year ago, com manded the Lee, and Capt. Thomas P. Leathers, owner of the present Natchez and her half-dozen or more predecessors of the same name, commanded the Natchez of that time. Both were ex perienced steamboatmen, but, as the sequel proved, Capt. Cannon was the better strategist. While both boats had their friends, the name of the Rob ert E. Lee was most honored and most popular along the Mississippi river. Before the return of the Natchez to New Orleans Capt. Cannon had deter mined that the Lee should beat the record of her rival, the fastest that had ever been made over the course. He stripped the Lee for the race; re moved all parts of her upper works that were calculated to catch the wind, removed all rigging and outfit that could be dispensed with, to lighten her. as the river waa low in some places; engaged the steamer Frank Pargoud to precede her a hundred, miles up the river to supply coal; arranged with coal yards to have fuel flats awaiting her m the middle of the river at given points, to be taken in tow under way until the coat' could be transferred to the d^ck of the Lee, and then to be cut loose an<j. float back. He refused all business of every kind, and would receive no passengers. The Natchez returned to New Orleans and received a few hundreds tons of of freight and also a few passengers, and was advertised to leave again for St. Louis June 30th. At -- o'clock in the afternoon the Robert E. Lee backed out from the levee,, and five minutes later the Natchez followed her, but without such elaborate preparation for a race as had been made on the Lee, Capt. Leathers feeling confident that he could pass the latter within the first one hundred miles. A steamer had preceded the racing boats up the river many miles to wit ness all that could be seen of the great race that was to be. The telegraph in formed the people along both banks of the river a$id the world at large of the coming struggle for supremacy in point of speed, and the world looked on with as much interest as it would had it been an event local to every part of it. Wher ever therfe was a human habitation the people collected on the banks of the mighty river to observe the passage of the two steamers. The Lee gained slightly every 100 miles as the race pro gressed, which gain at Natchez, 300 ed to ten minutes, attributable more to landings than had been made by the Natchez for fuel than anything else. The people of the whole city of Natchez viewed the race. At the bend at Vicks- burg, although the two steamers were ten miles apaif by the course of the river, the smoke of each was plainly discern able from the other. Thousand's of people were congregated on the bluffs. At Helena and other points it seemed that the population for miles back from the river had turned out to witness the greatest race of this or any other age. At Memphis 10,000 people looked at the passing steamers, neither of which landed, the Natchez having by this time having adopted the Lee's method of receiving fuel. At every point where there was a telegraph instrument the hour and the minute^ of the passing steamers were ticked to all points of America that could be reached, and newspapers throughout the coun try displayed bulletins denoting the progress of the boats. The time of passing Memphis, Vicks- burg and Cairo was cabled to Europe. When Cpiro was reached the race waa virtually ended, but the Lee proceeded to St. Louis, arriving there in three days, eighteen hours and fourteen min utes from the time she left New OB^ leans, beating by thirty-three minutes the previous time of the Natchez. The latter steamer had grounded and run into a fog between Memphis and Cairo whioh delayed her more than six hours. When the Lee arrived ..at St. Lows 30,000 people crowded the wharf, the windows and the housetops to receive her. No similar event had ever created so much ex citement. Capt. Cannon was tendered a banquet by the business men o£ the city, and was generally lionized while he remained there. It was estimated that more than $1,000,000 had been wagered by the friends of the two steamers. Many of the bets were drawn on the ground that the Lee had been assisted the first 100 miles by the power of the Frank Pargoud added to her own; but men of cooler judgment have ever sinoe regarded the .Natchez as the faster boat, bnt outgeneraled fcy the commander of the other. - Citteitmati Enquirer\ • Qietr DtecrlainattoM. The discrimination made by society as to who shall or shall not "enter within its circles is often very strangely drawn. A young man at a friends spending an evening recently remarked: "I waft em ployed in a store and stood behind the counter near a young man who was in every wtvy ' my inferior, even to the un usual degree of working upon a smaller salary. The young man was well and fastidiously dressed, but was uneduca ted, fast and profligate. He openly boasted, in fact, of his immorality, seeming to take a pride in it. And yet, the positions in society of myself and that young man weve vastly different. Wealthy and proud mothers, who wouldn't tolerate my stepping inside of their parlors, would introduce their daughters to this young man, invite him to call and to their social gatherings, don't know why he should be worthy and myself unworthy of courtesies from an association with these people." That young man's experience is no new one. Others before him have had the same and it is more than like'J others antfueiable • man or woman who earns hfs or her cmn living, *nd aasfeta ye$ allows ̂ 11 the acting facuttlea to Ineip on and talpri; their rest. lUala&otetj&^iires the ob server to be alto * participator; the so ciety of a novel he may enjoy in abso lute mental repose. Then, again, a good novel serves as 'a teacher. The wisest of novel writers work for a purpose, and generally succeed in teaching gome moral lesson. No uninspired book is n better protection to a young man just entering life, than *"Pendennisno ex coriation of the falsity of society sur passes that of "Vanity Fair." "Oliver Twist" has done more to expose the abuse of the poor-house system, than tons of blue books, and more to coun teract the falsehood of "Dick Turpin," the "Beggar's Opera," than a century of preaching. A good novel, then, is to be recommended--one that gives us a higher conception of life and its duties. --Exchange. A Democrat at Conrtg ̂ - It has always been a little dlmetllt to harmonize the simple dignity of repub licanism with the usage and require ments of. European courts; and while some ? of our representatives have maintained a consistent deportment, others have made such concessions as to render them ridiculous in the eye of their own countrymen, if not of the world. Our wisest and most diplomatic min isters have adopted suoh a course as commended them in- the eyes of all but the extremists of both sides. A total disregard of the usages of so ciety may indicate firm principle, but is sure to make one absurdly and often unnecessarily conspicuous; so that, in certain matters, conformity may be the most prudent course. James Buchanan had some amusing experiences when he represented the United States at foreign courts. He was a stately Democrat of the old school, courteous to all men irrespec tive of their social standing; but he was wholly unacquainted with law eti quette. In matters of State Gen. Jackson was one of Hie most severely simple of American Presidents. Oen. Jacksou appointed Mr. Buchan an Minister to Russia in 1832. On ar riving at St. Petersburg, he was much embarrassed how to conform to estab lished usages. His salary, when all deduction^ were made for exchange, amounted to about $8,000 a year, and he was called upon to live on equal terms with embassa dors who received twice, four times, six times as much. The Rusian is the most formal court in Europe, and the rules of its etiquette are cast-iron. Foreign Ministers were, in fact, obliged to drive a carriage and four horses, with a postilion in livery and a servant riding behind the car riage arrayed in what Mr. Buchanan called "a more queer dress than our militia generals." This servant, who was styled a chas seur, wore in his hat a plume of feathers. The plume was essential, because it noted the rank of the person riding in the carriage, and notified sentinels and other soldiers to pay him the homage Of a salute. He found that the people were not impressed by anything but show and parade, and had not the slightest no tion of simplicity and economy except as signs either of poverty or meanness. iJniw banks - i i - . , , Without entertaining with some fre- lmles from the starting point, amount- and liberality, he could scarcely ORL TA rati tmnntoa artvilmrahln « . .. _ . _ y hope to accomplish the objects of his mission. After considering the matter attentively, he arrived at a sensible conclusion, which he explained to a friend thus: "Without rain to my private fortune, could not entertain as others did. Not to entertain at all, I might as well not have been here. After some time I determined that I would give them good dinners in a plain, republican style for their splendid entertainments, and the plan has succeeded. I have never even put livery on a domestic in my house--a remarkable circumstance in this countryJr Notwithstanding these innovations, Mr. Buchanan soon became a great fa vorite in Russian society, and was treated by the Emperor Nicholas and the Empress with distinction so marked as to excite comment. He succeeded, alse», in negotiating a very favorable commercial treaty.-- Youth's Companion„ to Autograph Whittler*8 Kindness H Like Mr. Longfellow, Mr. Whittier is more indulgent to the autograph* tramp than he ought to be, but he can say "no," on occasions, and turn his back upon the pursuer with commenda ble courage. Bnt capable always of making clear distinctions, of seperating the wheat from the tares, he recognizes the sincerity of trao sympathy and ap preciation, and responds with a courtesy and kindness thai is full of hearty friendliness. Some of bis best thoughts have been tersely pwt in a verse or two that he has written for such occasions. One of those wa» penned at the request of a friend tor on ancient sun-dial that stood in his--the friend's--garden. What conldi be better, more complete, than this: "With warning bawl 1 mark Time'* rapid flight, From life a sla4t Morning to It* solemn night; Yet thro' the-dear Godln lore I also show There's light above me by-the shade below." In the poets published volumes, though we find now and then a grim humor, we do not seethe lighter strains of wit and gaiety that occasionally breaks oat in his conversation. The brightness and lightness of this strain is very charmingly exemplified in the following stanza that he wrote In i young friend's albnm: "Ah, ladies, von love to levy a tax On my poor little paper parcel of famet Yet strange it leeai that among yon all No on* is willing to take my name-- To write and rewrite till the angels pitjr her, Tbs wearllnl words, --Nan Perrp, in Thine truly, Whittier.* Bonton Home Journal SALT LAMB CITY has a paid fire de partment of four men at $50 a month and forty "call" men at $30 a month each. THERE are forests of the most valuable I who will come onto the stage of life in woods in Madagascar that extend QVpr 1 the future will have the same exper- • diaU&oe at over 2,000 mil--J | fence apd ponder over the upw un- Famfly Love at Wequeteqoeek. Wequetequock, in the town of Ston- ington, has long been noted tear its fam ily fights. A story is to!d of a Weque tequock man being brought to a Ston- ington doctor in an ox-cart, having been handled without gloves by a brother. While the doctor was dressing the wounds, the man asked: "Doctor, if I die from the effects of this beating, will they hang my broth er?" "I'm afraid they will," was the doc tor's reply. "Then let me die!" said the Weque- tequooker.--New Haven Register. WHENEVER you commend, add yonr reasons for doing so; it is this which distinguishes the approbation of a man of sense lrom the flattery of sycophants and admiration of fools.--Steele. NEVEB fear of spoiling making them too mahy feet beWHmt ofrt,, _ ot tetwOfay Gratified *»nd *ad eai*L A short »Q*h;of Cairo it di vides into two main branches which take a northerly con we through the delta uud finally debouch, the one at Rosetta and the other at Damietta. In numerable artificial canals connect these arms of the Nile with one another, and branch oflf east and west for pur poses of irrigation; while, in the north, the complex system of water-courses communicates with the series of lakes and marshes, from Mariout, on the west, to Menzaleh on the east, which occupy a large portion Of the area of the delta southward of the sea coast. In the latter part of June, about the time of the summer solstice, the motion of the torpid waters of the Nile seaward is quickened, and their level rises, while at the same time they take on a green color. The rise and the flow quicken, and the green color is suc ceeded by a reddish brown; the water becomes turpid and opaque, and is found to be laden with sediment, vary ing in consistency from moderately coarse sand, whioh falls to the bottom at once when the water is still, to mud of impalpable fineness, which takes a long time to subside. In fact, when the sun approaches the northernmost limit of his course, as the snows of Abyssinia begin to melt, and the heavy intertropical rains set in, a prodigious volume of water is poured into the ^ "it© and Blue Nileg, nnd drives be fore it the accumulated living and dead particles of organic matter which have sweltered in the half stagnant pools and marshes of the Soudan during the pre ceding six months. Hence, apparently the preliminary flow of green water. The Blue Nile and the Atbara must sweep down a vast quantity of river gravel from the Abydsinian uplands, but it may be doubted whether any of this £ets beyond the middle cataract, except in the condition of fine sand. And I suspect that the chief part, if not the whole, of the coarse sediment of the waters of the high Nile must be derived from Nubia, from the weathering of the rocks, and the action of the winds in blowing the sand thus produoed into the stream. The Nile continues to rise for three months until the autumnal equinox, by which time the level of its surface at Assouan is usually forty feet, at Thebes, thirty-six feet, at Cairo, twenty-four or twenty-five feet, and at Rosetta, four feet higher than it is in May; and before reaching the Delta it flows at the rate of three or four miles an hour. Under these circumstances fhe river overflows its banks on all sides. When it does so the movement of the water is retarded or even arrested, and the sus pended solid matters sooner or later fall to the bottom, and forms a thin layer of sandy mud. When the Nile waters spread out over the great sur face of the Delta the retardation is, of course, very marked. The coarse sedi ment is soop deposited, and only the very finest particles remain in suspen sion at the outflow into the Mediterra nean. As the sun goes • southward, his action on the Abyssinian snows dimin ishes, the dry season sets in over the catchment basin of the White Nile, and the water supply of the Nile diminishes to its maximum. Hefpe, after the au tumnal equinox, the Nile begins to fall, and its flow to slacken as rapidly as it rose. By the middle of November it is half way back to its summer level, and it continues to fall until the following May. In the dry air of Nubia and of Egypt evaporation is incredibly rapid, and the Nile falls a prey to the sun. As the old Egyptian myth has it, Osiris is dismembered by Typhon.--Pr&fessor Huxley. Tennyson's Youth. Alfred Tennyson, as he grew np> tovr- urd manhood, found other and strong er inspirations than Thomson's gentle Season#. Byron's spell had fallen oo his generation, and for a boy of his genius it must have been absolute and overmastering. Tennyson was soon to find hisi own voice, but meanwhile he began to write like Byron. He pro duced poems and versos in profusion and endless abundance; trying his wings,, as people say, before starting on his own strong flight. One day the news earne across the land, filling men's hearts with consternation --that Byron was dead. Alfred was then a boy about fifteen. "Byron was dead! I thought the whole world was at an end," he once saidi, speaking of these by-gone diays. "I thought everything was over and fin ished) for every one--that nothing else mattered. I remember I walked out alone, and carved 'Byron is dead? into tiie sandstone.'* I have spoken ef Tennyson from the account of an old friend, whose recol lections go back to those days which seem perhaps more distant to u» than, others of earlier date and later fashison. Mrs. Tennyson, the mother of the family, so tbis same friend tells me, was. a sweet and gentle and most imag inative woman ; so kind-hearted that it had passed into a proverb, and the wieked inhabitants of a neighboring village used to bring their dogs to her window and beat them in ordier to be bribed to leave off by the gentle lady, or to make advantageous bargains by selling her the worthless*«urs. She was intensely, fervently religious, as a poet's mother should be. After her husband's death (he had added to the rectory, and made it suitable for his large family) she still lived on at Som- ersby with her children and their friends. The daughters were grow ing up, tho elder sons were going to college. Frederick, the eldest, went to Trinity, Cambridge, and his brothers followed him there in turn. Life was opening for them, they were seeing new aspects and plaoea, making new friends, And bringing them home to their Lincolnshire rectory. "In Me- moriam" gives many a glimpse of the old home, of which the echoes still reach ns across half a ceutury.--Mrs. Thackeray-Ritchie, in Harper's Maga zine. A oNE-piani vie*---The'fcwofile.; .r ' >3 HEIR*88K8 Kwitn only JTONKWP Iwter. . ̂ ' THE homestretA--That of a lazy ̂ h man. THE sham-rock--A bowlder on the V: •thge. • A BPMifEB trip---Stumbling etpw s'%; sleeping cow. A CROSS counter. Jack Oldateok-- Graham % One often hears Graham bread praised as superior to ordinary white bread because it possesses more of the nitrogenous and mineral constituents of the grain, but it has been wisely sug gested that this apparent advantage may be rendered of no account by the harsh nature of bran bread, whioh makes it liable to be rapidly passed on through the digestive organs without permitting complete assimilation of the nutritive portions of the grain which cling to the branny portion. It is well said that "the state, as well as the chem ical composition of oufr food rnyst. !>« considered."--X>r, Foote'S Health "We're very proud of our ancestry, you know." Tom Parvenu--"Yes, I know; but how would your anoestry feel about you??-^Harvard Lampooner . ; %ny • WITH smite no *weeb" < A •*. * >*• ^ AffOe* ttW Street, *. * -1 &, Sbesttabfrd ihrf-nch iho niiM, . . • Bnt. Hti n k a rock, x _... eamedown k rmtU ****•' '• Wltha dull and s.ck?ning thad. I ' <>. R "WHKM does a man become a seam stress?" "When he hems and haws." 'No." "When he threads his way." "No." "When he rip. and " N o . " " G i v e i t u p . " " N e v e r , i f h e can help it." i T MR. ALEXIS CAMPBELL was locked up ?*§?s by the St. Louis police because, after 5 * nine sherry cobblers, he couldn't walk or stand straight. It was the last straw, C you see, that broke the Campbell's , back.--Life. IT'S Lowell who asks; "What is so rare as a day in June?" is it .not? Well,. ° now, if he had only stopped to think a ft, minute, he might have known that the 29th of February was the answer to the •- riddle.--Harvard Lampoon. 0; SHE was a sweetly inexperienced ^ housekeeper , a s one may ga the r ' f rom her remark when some one suggested ; that she should purchase spring mat- " tresses. "Yes," she replied, "if they're in season we'd better have some." "YES," said a fashionable lady, "I think Mary has made -a very good v match. I heard her husband was one of the shrewdest and most unprincipled lawyers in the profession, and, of course, he can afford to gratify her every wish." GROCER, who has lately joined the militia, practicing in his shop. "Bight, left, right, left. Four paces to the rear; ' march I"--falls down trap-door into the cellar. Grocer's wife, anxiously: "O, Jiin, are you hurt?" Grocer, savagely, but with dignity: "Go away, woman; what do you know about war ?" "No, JOSEPH, the steam-heating oom- pany was not formed for the purpose of heating steam. Steam is heated before it is made--that is to say, when you heat the steam--no, when you make the steam--no--well, confound yon, don't you know that steam is hot any way, and doesn't hftve to be heated by a company?" ' WHAT to him was love or hope? What to him was joy cr care? He stepped on a plug of mottled soap the girl had left on the topmost stair, and his feet flew out like wild fierce wings, and he Btruck each stair with a sound like a drum, and the girl below with the scrubbing things laughed like a fiend to see him come. SATURDAY is tbe odd job, finishinraip day of the week. Nobody begins any great work Saturday. " What! are you ^ going to be married on Saturday?" in quired Cicely of her lady friend. "Why, to be sure. It is my birthday, * you know." "But don't you know that your husband will not live the year out if you marry him Saturday?" MH-s-h! He has never heard of it. I should be such an interesting widow, you know." Hartford Post "Now I want to knew,"' said a man whose veracity had been questioned by an angry acquaintance, "jtwt why you call me a liar. Be frank, sir; for frank ness is a golden-trimmed virtue. Just as a friend, now, tell me why yon called me a liar?" "Called you »liar because you are a liar," the acquaintance re plied "That's what I call frankness. Why, air, if this rule were adopted, over half the difficulties would be settled without trouble, and in our case there would have been trouble but for our willingness to meet each other half way."--N. T. Com. Advertiser. **I GUESS my husband is real sack,* said a Lexington avenue woman to her neighbor, one evening. "What makes yow think so?" asked the other. "Well, he came home night before last with a raging fever," was the reply, "and I was tsp with him all night, and this morning whem 1 was bathing his head, he threw his. arms around my neck and praised me and said how good I was, and act ually kissed me, as he hasn't done for years*. This makes me think he must be real sick." And then she continued. "You don't know how bad I felt, it made me feel good."--N. Y. Com. Ad. Postage Stamps Ituiing Firm. For Beven years he had been a clerk in the ice business, bnt only a week or so ago he was appointed a clerk in the postoffice. One day he was stationed at tli® stamp window. He sold three- cent stamps for fifteen cents each or fowr for half a dollar. One-cent stamps, lie told the people were liardi to get at any price, and ruled firm- at seven eents, with a rising tendency. Postal cards were held at ten cents, and stamped three-cent envelopes went three for a quarter. Society raised a howl when he charged; a commission erf tea per cent, for registering a letter, and charged exchange, discount and commission on money orders. When the postmaster returned, there was a scene. The young man listened to re proach and explanations. He examined the schedule of prices, very carefully, resigned immediately, aad went back to the ice business. "That postofjjco," he told his father, "wont last six weeks. . They've no more idea of a fair profit than they have of the North Pdle. Why, it would ruin flhe government if all the offices sold stamps for nothing, as they do here." And be made up his mind that he would write to the President and tell him how shamefully the mer chandise of the government was being cut away down below November prices right in the beginning of hot weathaa*--- Burlington Hawkeye. A Good Memory* In an Austin street-car were several gentlemen who passed away the time in telling jokes and anecodotes. Among them was a cranky individual who pos itively refused to enjoy the fun, aad after each yarn he would remark: "That's nothing new. 1 heard years ago." "Did you ever hear the aneodote about George Washington auad the railroad conductor?" asked one of the company. "Why, certainly," replied the cranky individual, "although I cannot now re» member the circumstances." It was not until the laugh had gona all around that the crank discovered ho* badly he waa sold--Texan Sjftings* Pleasure is a necess&y HMBprocal& no one feels it who does notat the sama time give it. To be pleased one must please. What ptoR«A« you in othem will in general please them jn vnn --. CkeHteffiel^ _ HI ' ' Wfc„ ,«