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'.V . i . masm 'F* --.'W .- •COTT,:^-. lurred toMMiAntoofyi ^arsr.tir tfetfamo, i chance DM with tts--a soul to saf*, I was In usto lot*, yoti know; i woman she fell to • fool or Jmaffef tnre th« tortured heart >4 despair and a grief like this fi-V 1 jUDart. to a hateful kiss. Krfef lover unloved deptii Item loved BY a man like 3MM"-" (HUd A •Hi . . O WS*y wbmaal O fearful fatal *T1« ajMMijrtonato pry • but it strtltes at --. Who li|h too soon, but who love too lata. woman * I seem to trace here In Vanity Fair; IU Wb» was the wo fife footprint* E A mother, perchance, with an earnest face, T A Wife with a glory of Titian hair; A sonl perplexed, knd a faith at stake> A Ute ni*h lost--ttaeito are thousands snafc ̂ Who face the world, when their beartetrlags break, For the one kind word, and the tender touch. Who was the man? What matter at all? "Tin man who ruins and sows the tears! *TOs men who tempt, but women who fall, And are never absolved jn the deathless yean. The least we can do, O brothers, is this : Whilst love is with us, and life seems down. We can soothe the sad with a gentle kiss. And dry the eyes that our sins can drown. Go back, lost letter of wild despair, ^ k I will cast yon forth on the infinite sea; :.w"• <• But the day glides on, and the Margate air la piercing sweet to the world ana me. But still I can never forget--can you?-- That cry that nothing can soothe or ceaaOt "Had. I been loved by a man like you, , ; £toad lived far better, and died'in peace !* £ \ THE OLD GRAY ROCK. & 'FT ' BT HOWARD K. KNOX. • ' ^V- P. . --r- .. She sat on a great gray atone, very close to the low, sobbinj? music of the waves, looking far ont on old Ocean's crested bil­ lows, her dimpled cheek resting in one soft rosy palm, while a far-away look beamed in her passionate, sonl-thrilling ejes. Elise Snow had had her dream of lore, but it had receded farther and still farther away from her, until it had almost faded from sight. Three years ago Gerald Bou- telle had spent the summer in the village of Castleton, regaining his health, lost by a winter's dissipation, and making lore to and winning a heart that was far too pure and confiding for association with snch a man. It had been the same sweet, be­ guiling story told by the old gray rock, the •ame worthless promises, the same heart­ breaking parting, that are 60 familiar to all, and with many a sad experience. For one year innocent Elise looked fdr bis coming with faithful trusting, -waiting for a word from the absent one. But the word never came. He was not false, Elise thought, but dead. He would never return to her, but she could go to him with the lingering dew of the first love-kiss fresh upon her lips. Did she regret the bright enmmer that had come ana gone, leaving only an aching void? No, no; far from it. Had Gerald Boutelle, with his irresistible blonde beauty, never crossed her path the throne in her heart had been erected for naught; the crown-jewel, studded with de­ votion and faith, left to crumble away and form a ruined and tenantless edifice. The foamy waves swept higher and higher, until they almost touched the hem of her dainty muslin dress, while the spray dashed a shower of Bparkling diamonds over the dnrk-haired maiden, still looking ont and dreaming of the future--not an earthly future, bat a bright hereafter far up and beyond the blae sky that seemed to dip its azure mantle in the dancing waves. A tiny white speck caught Elise's eye, and she watched it mechanically as It oamje nearer to the shore. Soon the low, mournful boom of a signal-gun announced a ship in distress. , In an instant the fearful storm of tqe night before occurred to her mind, and she knew fall well that this must be some no­ ble ship that had received its death-warrant from the old storm-king, and was aimlessly drifting with the tide. By the time the second gun had soanded its mournful call the beach was thronging with -eager villagers, ready to do and dare to save tbe lives on the doomed ship! The boats were soon launched, manned, and ready to start--in feet, were pushing off--when Elise sprang forward, begging; ."h' logo with them. The* ere was no danger, she argued, and1 ehe might possibly be of some assistance. The slightest wish of little Snowbird, as the villagers oalled her, was an unquestion­ able oommand to them, and she was per­ mitted to go. They soon reached the ship, and Elise was Kited on board, eager to do something to prove to all that they eould not have gotten aletur without her. Down in the cabin all was confusion. Each was anxious to be first to leave the •inking ship, and, since help had come, all wanted to take some priced luggage, and in their eagerness thought it possible. I said "all;" not so. Away to the extreme end of the cabin a little group attracted Elite's attention. A beauti.ul lady, whose fair hair swept the floor, lay 6n a sofa, while'a gentleman, clasping a wee toddling one in his wmf, knelt with bowed head, careless of all around. Was it instintft or true womanly sympathy that caused Elise to turn from those self- reliant ones and offer her assistance to the bowed form before her? As the little one, who could not fully understand its father's trouble, caught sight of Elise, it stretched forth its* dimpled hands, crying, "Papa, lady turn an' help mamma." . At the words of the child the gentleman raised his bowed head and looked np. "Little Elise! Snowbird!" he cried. "Is it thus we meet again?" Every pulse of her body stood still, then burned and quivered with fever-heat. She tried to steady her voice, but failed *Geral3, who is it?--and is it death?" He would have given worlds, if it weie possible, if he could have truthfully an swered: "She is my 6ister;" but with those bonest, soul-searching eyes looking into hie he could not deny the mother of his child. "She was my wife, SeowfWV and now our little one is motherless." '»* ttOh, Gerald!" Elise sitid no more, but all the words in the English language could not have de scribe! her feelings better. ReproaclMur prise, almost unbelief, arrayed themselves In that One pitiful cry; She turned away her head. She' could not endure the sight of that fair, cold beauty whom Gerald 4iad -eaHed wife, al­ though she ware cold in death. What could it mean? Had he been false? A Jow moan of anguish told how bitter that thought would be. No, no; it could not be!. Circumstances had forced ilwn. Jtq marry another. He could explain.^u, she knew. t\ Then womatTn staffilalrfP--flalfti--c^rue to the resene, aud she put* forth her band, -while her low, sweet Toi** tttiufed • to look up again. - - - "Gerald, it is all over. May I helo you now?" " , : . , He did not need to inqtUfo what was all wer. Too well he knew the straggle that had swept like an overwhelming flood* over that trembling soul, and left nothing but pity and forgiveness. He could not understand; it did not seem possible that any woman could love a man •o unselfishly, that, after he had wrecked her lite, she could,under the trying circuui - stances, offer her assistance without a word Of reproach. "Yes, Elise; you. uJay help, mi. Take any baby-girl, and Heaven will bless you." "I^fct'-'ytou must come, Gerald,' . There is xoom for all in the boat. We will take the lady fchpfe Mid busy her ther®." Elba eould oot say "your wile" yet; the wound Was too deep, the blow had been srs for the removal of the edd'S baby clasped close In Iter arjftft, like one talking in her sleep. It .ni ajl like a troubled dream thai sh* ; yusfcliwfrom soon. • ShelMver lightly remembered how they reached the shore and what happened after - -how Gerald's wife was laid to rest by the H had been her #i«S; nothing seemed real but Ciiwld at 4fce old feyst-place by her side. «, She had come out to the rook to-night for the finit tim* since she had sat and listened to the signal-gun from tl)e sinking ship. » As she eat reviewing a* best she could the last four days, Gerald came and stood by her side, looking so pale and worn. "Elise, I have something to tell you," he said, sitting down fay her side. "Are you willing to lisien?" "Yes, Gerald, I am willing to listen," she said, repeating his words in a low, caresh ing tone; "it is best that I should know hoW it all happened." "Snowbird, let me begin three years ago, when I stood on this old stone holding your hand in mine and saying the v.ord fare well. Heaven knows, I intended no harm when 1 told my love and won your trusting heart. It was like 'drifting with the tide,' and it would hare been like 'pulling against the stream' to have lied from your coy, sweet presence when, in yonr innocence and trust, you could not hide your love from me. I wae but mortal, Elise. and failied to do my duly. I left you with a promise of a speedy return, when you would be all the world to me. And how did I fulfil that romise? I will tell yoa. Snowbird, although hide my head in shame. I was engaged to be married when I won your love, but, Elise, I forgot it in your sweet, bewilder­ ing love. I returned home and fulfilled that engagement, trying to think that you would prove as false as I. Even that would have been a consolation. My bride loved me trnly and tenderly, and in due time, after baby Maude came, 1 almost thought that love was fully returned. I filled her life; I made her happy at least, for which I thnnk Heaven now! We had been on the Continent a year, and were re­ turning home up the Mediterranean, when our ship was caught in a fearful storm. In a sudden lurch of the ship my wife was hurled from my side, and her head coming in contact with something, 1 know not what, she was inBlantly killed. I knew nor cared for nothing more until I heard your voice calling me back to life and reality, and felt yonr hand clasped in mine. Snow­ bird, you have heard my story. Now I am going away. Will you keep my" baby Maude while 1 am away, and will you try to forgive and forget my error of the past?" A wild thrill of joy ran like fire through ber veins. He w^s only asking what was the desire of her life to do, and she reached out her hand blindly toward him. "Yes, Gerald, I will take little Maude, and care for her until you come to claim your own. I have already .forgiven you, and I will try to forget." 5 Gerald pressed those small hands very closely in his, and through reverence for the dead and respect for the lining he looked his caress and turned away. • • * • • • One year had pawed, freighted with its Joy and woe. To Elise it had beei very sweet. ; • Maude, with her baby ways, had crept in and filled the aching void that Gerald's absence had made, and to-night, the anni­ versary of his departure, she stands on the old gray rock clasping Maude's dimpled hand in here, waiting for--what? Through the low music of the wave* came a voice--a voice that she liad not heard for one year. It eaid, "Elise, I have come to claim my own. IB it all mine, or only a part? Is it to be bnt a tiny ray of light, or one eternal day? Tell me, Snowbird; am I asking too much?" ». "No, Gerald, all is yours," said Elsie, a glad smile lighting up her fair face; "I have learned to forget." Gerald clasped. her in his arms; he had that right now. And he knew and felt that he was a better man for passing under the chasten­ ing rod, while Elsie found love was just as perfect after the gathering upof the broken chain. The Prettiest Clerk la Washington. ! It is said that the prettiest girl in the employ of the Government is a copyist at the Navy Department. This is say­ ing a good deal, as about four thousand women hold positions in Washington, and probably two thousand more in other parts of the country are receiving salaries from Uncle Sam. Some of the countesses," as the girl* employed in the Treasury Department ate called, are very pretty, but the belle of the navy is claimed to be entitled to the apple of Paris. She is a niece of out Minister to England, Phelps, and her family reside in this city. For about four years the young lady been em­ ployed as a type-writer in the office of Commodore Walker, the chief of the bureau of detail, receiving a salary of $900 a year. She is a dark-eyed blonde,, with a beautiful figure, and the officers f the navy are all her devoted slaves. >he was so much interrupted in her work by them that Commander Mc- Calla, in whose room she is, was com­ pelled to prohibit the officers from in­ terviewing her in department hours, and got a large screen, behind which her attractions are now hidden. If the commander leaves his room for a mo­ ment there is certain to be some bold young tar about the building to run ii} for a chat, with the beauty, and when McCalla Returns the culprit is profuse in his excuses. The number of officer* who have type-writing to be done ii astonishing, and they all want to supers intend the work. . The young lady doe# not appear to be aware of her attrac­ tions, bat cannot but notice that the other type-writers are not in such de­ mand as herself. When she leaves the department at night there are generally two or more officers accidentally wait­ ing in the corridor to escort her safely down the elevator and see her to the streetcar.--Chr.aha Herald. r my finit Sired by His Foolishness. money is what we're after, pardsaid one of the two highwaymen, who stopped a stranger in a dark place. "I haven't got a cent," was the reply, "Oh, that's too thin, now; no use try­ ing to fool us that way. We want all your valuables, you know, and we want 'em quick." ! It's a fact, gentlemen." replied th« beleaguered one, "that Iharen't a valu­ able thing in my possession, and I'm just wandering who'll trust me for m breakfast. Search me and you'll it'strue." "All right, pardner. Bill, yon set that the gentleman keeps his l»^f u^ an' I'll go through him." j A protracted but fruitless searce e»> sues. "Nothing^ Jim?" - "Not a cussed thing. Stranger,- yo* ou was in need of as-seem as though you sistanoe yourself. Bill, have you got anything about your clothes you could help the gentleman with?" 'Thank you for your kindness," re­ plied the latter; "the fact is, I'm not usually dead broke, but to-night I at­ tended a church fair, and--" "Oh, that's it," exclaimed one of thf men, in a disgusted tone; "come along, Bill. We might help a gentleman in distress, but I'll be hanged if we'll do anything for a cussed fool who's old enough to know better.--Pittsburgh Dispatch. The Sex of Angels. Jones--I would not be surprised at anything. Smithers--Not if'an angel were to appear? Jones--Well, that might astonish me a little. "A female angel, for instance ?" "Female angel? There aint any other kind." THE best dancing .tune the morning song of the lark. woiiKiwjKadbs or JNjjjc m BT MEM : PERLKY POOBK. * ^Tn the Twenty-ninth Congress, when that gigantic annual steal, the River and Harbor Bill, first attained gigantic pro­ portions, each Representative had his pet scheme, upon which he hoped to secure his re-election, and among them "Long John" Wentworth, of IUino: advocated an appropriation of $12,0 for the improvement of the harbor at Little Fort, now called Waukegah, on Lake Michigan. The bill had been loaded down with amendments by the Senate, and John Davis, from the Com­ mittee on Commerce, endeavored to lighten it by striking out some of the items, among them the appropriation for the improvement of the harbor at Little Fort. "Long John" was in trouble when he learned that his appropriation was to be opposed in the Senate, and he went to the Senate chamber on the last day of the discussion of the bilf with a heavy heart. Neither of the Senators from Illinois or Michigan had any per­ sonal knowledge of the locality, and he knew not whom to ask to champion his appropriation. At last it was reached, and after Mr. Davis had moved to strike it out, Gen. Dix seconded him, exhibit­ ing a large map of the locality, aud pledging his reputation as a civil en­ gineer that the appropriation wovdd be wasted if expended. While Gen. Dix was speaking, Mr. Webster came along where Mr. Went­ worth was sitting, in the rear of the Senators' desks, and said: "Wentworth, what is Dix making all this ado about ?" The reply was promptly made: "Mr. Webster, since your trip around the lakes from Chicago in 1837, we have had but few appropriations for the old harbors and none for new ones. This place is half way between Chicago and Milwaukee, and we want a harbor of refuge there." "I see the point," said Mr. Webster, and he went at on'ce to his seat. When Gen. Dix had concluded and rolled up his map, Mr. Webster arose and remarked, in his usual impressive manner, that what he might say on the subject could add but little to the con­ clusive argument of the Senator from New York in favor of the appropria­ tion for Little Fort harbor. The Sen­ ator had endeavored to show that there was no harbor there, and so the House must have thought when it made an ap­ propriation to construct one there. [Jpon what did the Senator from New York found his doctrine, that when God created the world, or even Lake Michigan, He left nothing for man to do? The curse pronounced upon our first pafrents for their transgression was in entire conflict with any such doc­ trine. He did not believe that the con­ stitution of the United States was such a narrowly constructed instrument that it would not permit the construction of a harbor when the necessities of com­ merce required it. Mr. Webster proceeded to fore­ shadow the growth of the West, its abundant products and its gigantic commerce, indulging in predictions that have been more than realized since. He then described a steamer starting from Chicago, laden to the guards with freight and passengers, and caught in a storm, with no harbor of refuge at hand. He depicted the whistling of the winds, the dashing waves, the creaking timbers, and the shrieking passengers, and, as he sent the steamer to the Bottom with all on board, he exclaimed: "What bat a merciful Providence saved me from such a catastrophe when I was a pas­ senger on a Lake Michigan steamer in 1837 ? At such a dire disaster could the Senator from New York derive any consolation that his narrow interpreta­ tion of the constitution had been main­ tained ?" '{lie argument was unanswerable, and when the yeas and nays were called on the the motion to strike out the Little Fort item, it was lost by a vote of twenty-three yeas against twenty- nine nays. Benton, who was an advo­ cate of internal improvements, said that Mr. Webster's remarks were the greatest speech on so small a matter that he had ever heard. But the great expounder was always ready to serve any one of New Hampshire birth. He had known. Went worth's father, and "Long John" was a graduate of his alma mater, Dartmouth. President Polk vetoed the River and Harbor Bill, Little Fort item and all, as unconstitutional. When, years after­ ward, Gen. Dix visited Chicago to de­ liver the oration at the laying of the corner-stone of the Douglas monument, Mr. Wentworth called his attention to the magnificent breakwaters which formed an artificial harbor. Gen. Dix complimented them, adding: "They ought to protect you from any storm, even from such a one as Webster manu­ factured for you in 1846." Matt Carpenter received at the bap­ tismal font the evangelical name of Matthew, but a discriminating public, with a sort of tender irreverence, saw fit to overrule the arrangements made on that interesting occasion, and to gratify its own sense of fitneBs, by per­ sistently calling him Matt. Lady Juliet was quite right when, in her pas­ sionate expostulation with Lord Borneo in the garden, she disparaged all formal cognomens by asking, "What's in a name ?" Evidently there is nothing in a name, and everything in a nickname. How insignificant are the liberties which we take, or which we do not take, in the names of onr public men, by christening them anew with titles affec­ tionately familiar. We loved to say Harry Clay, but who was ever so auda­ cious" as to sav Jack Calhoun or Danny Webster? lhat the people have an idea that Senator Carpenter was a par­ ticularly good fellow, was qvmced by their fancy for calling him Matt There are some men in Congress who seem to be always on their mettle, spurred oontirmally by a serious ambi­ tion, and evermore doing their best. They keep their hair well combed, their neckties neat, and their boots and trousers far superior to demoralization; and their bearing, in speech and action, shows quite distinctly their apprecia­ tion of the fact that thirty centuries are looking down upon them from the tops of the pyramids. This was not at all the case with Matt Carpenter. He bad an extremely easy way of doing and taking things. No matter how ably he reasoned, or how eloquently be talked, he never seemed to make an effort; and if he was not a trifle lazv, he was in­ famously misrepresented by all ap ances. The solemn question, " Wh school keeps or not," was not a solemn question to him. In a hot debate which occurred in the Senate, Mr. As to Carpen same advancement veloped himself of jovial n««rto cHfabr Moatmemteifaof the Senate tpp*«rto have reachedf that body by hard climb ̂ ing; he seetned to have been tossed into it, OM«, in addressing a clAss of law students, and in conuhending to them Bufus Choate's advice, "Keep out of politics," he said: "You may My this advice comes with bad grace from myself, who have in some sense |allen before the great temptation. Wait till you have achieved a respectable posi tion at the bar, and then accept a seat in the Senate, and I venture the pre diction that your judgment will con' demn yonr weakness, as mine does my own." Ants' Methods. In spite of the multifarious duties and tasks that are imposed on these tiny burghers, they still find time to clean ana adorn their worthy little per­ sons. No spot, no atom of dust or any­ thing else uncleanly will they tolerate on their bodies. They get rid of the dirt with the brushy tufts on their feet or with their tongues. They act, for all the world, like domestic cats when they clean and lick themselves, and they assist one another at the toilet precisely like monkeys. Their sense of cleanliness goes so far that the naturalist often finds, to his unpleasant surprise, the colored marks that he had applied with so much care on his "trial ants" removed by their dirt- hating friends. They keep their dwell­ ings just as cleanly. But the conveying away of their de­ ceased brethren, whose bodies they ap­ pear to regard with the greatest au- tipathy, gives them more trouble than anything else. When some members of an ant community which Mr. Cook kept imprisoned died and could not be removed those remaining seemed af­ fected with the greatest horror. For a day the insects ran about seeking a way out, and ceased only when com­ pletely exhausted.' The ants belonging to the camponorus species seized the dead and threw them into the water pail, which they converted into a sepul- cher. Ordinarily, though, the ants are said to treat their dead with more rev­ erence. They even possess their own graveyards, which lie in the vicinity of their nests. They convey their de­ ceased companions thither, where they lay them down in orderly little heaps or tows. It is only the corpses of their fellows, however, that they treat in this man­ ner. Dead strangers they throw out like something unclean, or tear the body in pieces. Even between the master and Blaves of the same com­ munity Miss Trent says she has ob­ served a dissimilar mode of burial. While the masters find their repose in a special graveyard, side by side, the slaves lie like heaped-up refuse near the nest, despised equally in death as in life. The ant cemeteries are often thickly populated, for their life is short. The male lives only through one summer; the females live somewhat longer, and the workers die of old age in the eighth or tenth month. Conquering Foolish Fears. Some children are very much afraid of horses. Don't oblige such children to touch a horse. But whenever oc­ casion offers in the presence of such a child, pet and pat a horse without seem­ ing . to notice the fact that the child is afraid. By degrees, your example, if he have perfect faith in his parents, , will have such an eilect upon him that he himself, almost without knowing it,; will do the same thing, unless the fear be one of those inexplicable "rooted aversions" which nothing can erase. The same system can be practiced with those children who are so unfor­ tunate as to be afraid of the dark. Try sitting with the child from the latest light on through twilight into the dark, talking to him pleasantly the while. Perhaps after a few times of such treatment you can say: "Wait here a moment, I am going to get a lamp." Perhaps he will stay but if he does not feel inclined to do so, don't force him. Wait a few days longer. Try sitting in the absolute dark some evening, and when he calls to know where you are, say quietly, "Here I am." "But you have no light." "No. I like to sit in the dark." "Bat I can't find you." "Listen to my voice now, and see if you can't tell where I am, and then see if you can't come straight to me without the use of your eyes." In the interest of trying to do something and feeling that you are near almost all fear is lost and the battle won. Then is the time to tell him quietly that it is foolish to be afraid, but that you know and thor­ oughly understand how he feels, and that some day he shall have conquered the trouble. If you can recall for his benefit some time when ydu were just so foolish, it will do him a tremendous amount of good, and you will be bound together more closely by a bond of sympathy. --Mrs. E. C. Heicett, in Ladies* Home Journal. LMgfc. Sou** Indiftn schoolboys found their tescher jMvfc im great amnion ic frogs. To them it was a continual source of amnaement to tee her run away from them. Ono day % boy caught one, and shut it up in the table drawer. The teacher entered the room. AH were in order, but when she opened the drawer the frog, glad to gain it# liberty, leaped out upon the table, and tha teacher made a great ado. One of the boys, in a gentlemanly way, took up the frog, carried it to the door, and threw it out. No sign of enjoyment could be discerned in their faces. They remained through school hours retain­ ing their solemn dignity. Afterward as they told it they laughed until the tears came, laughed over and over again as they remembered the dismay of the toacner. Why did they not laugh at first ? They had not yet come into the ways of white men enough to realize that we would excuse rudeness in our pupils, even under these circum­ stances, and they consider it rude to laugh aloud, or to laugh at the expense of another in the other's presence. An old woman who owned a poor old pony which was almost dead from- starvation and hard work, had brought the pony in and tied him to the fence. He was literally "skin and bones." While I was in tne house I heard the woman making a great outcry, and I ran to the door just in time to see an immense flock of crows fly away.^I said: "What is the matter?" She re- Elied that the crows had come to piok er poor old pony's bone while he still lived. She saw the funny side of it-as well as I, and laughed very heartily. When one of the young lady mission­ aries asked an Indian woman for her "Wakan siea tanka," instead of her "Waksica tanka," no one laughed till teacher was gone. When I inquired why the dish-pan was not given, the re­ ply was she did not ask for the dish- pan, she asked for "the great evil spirit" (the devil), and I assure you no Indian woman hears that story without laughing heartily* Another teacher meaning to ask for a tub asked for a young man, and, though to her face they did not laugh, I have seen a whole sewing school convulsed with laughter over the mistake several times since. When one of the ministers from the east attending one of onr meetings went up to a group of Indians who could not speak or under­ stand a word of English and tried to enter into conversation of course there was no response. He said to me as I came up; "Why do they look so sol­ emn?" I simply interpreted what he said to the Indians, and all laughed and said: "We do not know what he said; why should we laugh?" It does not seemed to occur to those asking the question why they do not laugh that they have but little to laugh at in, the presence of white men. They cannot understand us or our way. Indian children are in the house quiet and or­ derly ; they sit and listen to hear older ;i>eople talk, and if anything is said that :s very amusing, so much so that they feel that thet cannot control them­ selves, they put their hands to their mouths and run outside to laugh. Men will laugh gently and quietly, and now and then you may hear an old woman laugh long and loud; if so, some rela­ tive will say aside: "Hear how she laughs, like a white man; she is un­ womanly. They are very social peo- le, and around the camp-fire one may, ear many legends and fables, hear many old war songs and nursey rhymes., American Missionary. Tou sit on the with the Sumner very justly described one side "ling him a of him by calling Senator Edmunds, 4 jester "j and by a ready pun, as I ady justly described the other side of him by declaring that Mr. Sumner prob­ ably meant a "Bug-jester. Both for jests and suggestions Mr. Carpenter had the finest aptitu4% too without trying hard. Grant and Hancock. A fprnier member of Grant's staff says: "I know all about the origin of the trouble between Grant and Han­ cock. It came from a report which Grant sent to the War Department about the battle of Spottsylvania. That was a hard and bloody fight, and the the Second Corps, under Hancock, per­ formed most brilliant service. When Grant made up his report he did not mention Hancock by name. The re­ port did not particularize any officer, but it dealt fairly and honestly with the magnificent work of the Second Corps. Hancock thought he ought to have been mentioned by name, and wrote a letter to Grant in a conplaining spirit. I don't know whether Grant ever replied to it or not, but I do know that Han­ cock thought that the Lieutenant Gen­ eral had failed to do him justice. All the subsequent estrangement of the two men dates from this little incident. You will remember that when Grant died Hancock had charge of the fun­ eral arrangements as the representative of the Government, and his last publio appearance was at the head of the great pageant in New York City which fol­ lowed the old hero to his last resting place. After their first trouble Grant didn't place much confidence in Han­ cock, for he was so constituted that he could not trust a man with whom he had had any trouble." "No, THANK you; I never waltz; 'ma says if any of the young men want to hug me they must do it on the sly; she won't have them crushing my dress up, and leaving finger-marks on my white waist, so long as she does the washing and has to support me." THE less government we have, the better, the fewer laws and the less con­ fided power. The antidote to this abuse of formal government is the in­ fluence of private character, tb&mtow£h of the individual.--Emerson. Curious Land Tenures. The study of land tenures is <mei which sorely taxes the thinking powers, especially when the study is directed to the English system of landed property as eluciadated in Blackstone and other old authorities. Yet even the perplex­ ing tangle about feoffments, free socage, livery of seisin and so on, is occasionally enlivened by some really interesting passages. Common lands in many parts of England have been held, and: are held still, in some instances, by the fulfilment of curious pledges. The Sheriffs of the County of Norfolk held at one time, and we .presume they still hold, thirty acres of land, forming part of a certain manor in the county, on consideration of their presenting to the king, whenever he should be in En­ gland at the time of the first catch of herrings every Season, four-and-twenty of the best of the fish. Yarmouth had a charter conferred upon it on condition that it should send to these same Sheriffs annually a hundred herrings baked in flour and twenty pasties, the Sheriffs having to pass them on to the lord of the manor of East Charlton. Alnwick freemen to this day, it is stated, enjoy the right of pasturing their cattle upon certain common lands on very wnimsical conditions indeed. It is said that King John was once traveling by night in the town on horseback, and, owing to the deplorable state of the roads, his majesty floundered into a pond. He was so incensed that he made it a condition of the charter he granted to the town that every freeman should go through that pond. Accord­ ingly every inhabitant of Alnwick who proposes to take np his freedom must wade through this water and make the round of the common. This ceremony is performed--or, at all events, used to be performed--by several together, all mounted on horseback, dressed in white, and wearing swords by their sides. How It Pops. He--Oh! She--Ah I He--The weather has changed. She--Has it? He--I think it will .... She--Do you? / He--Don't yon? She--I don't know. Pa wilL He--Will yoa be at the hop? She--Perhaps! He--Ohl ^ She--Ah! He--Charley la; She--What? He--That yon are « _ She--It's no snch thing.' He (pleadingly)--Would yon like to be? She--How can you? He (pleadingly)--Would yon? She--I won't listen to yon. He--Don't then I She--I won't! He-Oh! She-Ah! He--Susy-- . . She--Georg#^' Conversations like this are what lead eventually to the announcement that "The engagement of Miss Susy Majori- banks to Mr. George Snuffles has boob made public."--St. Paul Press. TJpoft a modest gravestone in Vin- cennes cdmeterv appears the plaintive Alt the waters shimmering in the sun ther were never to foam and rage again--plank or boam or spar lasiiy floating beyond the bar. The heavens are a deep blue--the wind is bnt a zephyr, too weak to create a ripple, and the few cloudlets are a pure wmte and tell of a serene day. You haye no fear of the great ocean which stretches away before you to the other side of the globe. The beetle burrows in the earth beside yon--the flies hum and drone in a sleepy way, aud you feel at peace with all mankind. You could not feel safer in your own chamber at home. See! Far out beyond the bar there is a commotion of the waters. There is no foam, no splashing, no waving,but those who caught the disturbance note the formation of a wave half a mil© long. It is as if a great whale had si­ lently risen to the surface and rolled the waters away from. him. The wave is not foam-crested. It d^es not ap­ proach like a wave driven by the wind. It comes stealing in silently, swiftly, menacingly. There is no roar--no confusion. A chip riding on its crest would not be lost to the eye for a min­ ute. Like the tread of fate--like the grim front of an army--as the tiger creeps nearer before its spring, and the half-asleep lounger on the sands whose sight is upon the white sails far away, is suddenly surrounded and put in peril of his life. In ten seconds the waters have rolled back and left the sands clear, and there is a dash of foam on the bar, as if the old wrecks lying sand-buried there were rejoicing in the treachery of the sea. We are rocking lazily on the ground swell off the inlet, the men, tired of fishing, lying about smoking; the wo­ men watching the ships further out; the children swashing their bare feet in the water and dropping a hook oc­ casionally for the horrid sea spiders to cling to. What danger here ? Half a mile away there is a ripple on the sur­ face. It is as if a knife-blade was cut­ ting the water. It pomes in a line al­ most as straight as a carpenter could draw. By and by the children see it and shout and splash their feet in an enthusiastic way. They are still at it when a strong hand drags them back one by one, and the next instant the great mouth of a shark opens wide where the little feet had splashed, and a hundred cruel teeth oldsh together just a little too late. We sit on a rock in the shade of a pine, spy-glass in hand, and read the name of a schooner making her gallant way along the coast. Every sail is new and white--every sail is rounded out by the breeze--the glass enables us to count the men as they pass along the decks. The white-caps leap up about the speeding vessel, and under her bows is a roll of foam which tells of spray on her decks. We lower the glass for a moment to watch a bit of wreck driving ashore. It is onlv for a moment, but as we lift it again there is a roar and a scream in the air. A. cloud swiftly^ obscures the bright sun, and when it passes away the schooner is bottom up before our eyes, and her crew drowning as the "white-topped waves beat them about.--Detroit Free Press. ' OaUey-Slayes of the Last Century. 1 The life of the French galley-slaves of the seventeenth and eighteenth cen­ turies has been thus described by Ad­ miral de la Graviere: "They place seven men on each bench; that is to say, in a space, ten feet long by four feet wide. They are so packed away that you can see nothing from stern to bow but the heads of the sailors. The cap­ tain and the officers are not much bet­ ter off. When the seas overtake the galleys, when the north wind howls along the coast, or when the sirocco dampens the passengers with its deadly moisture, all these make the galley a perfeet hell. The lamentation of the ship's company, the shrieks of the sail­ ors, the horrible howling of the con­ victs, the groaning of the timbers, mixed with the clanking of the chains, and the natural noises of the storm, produce an effect which will terrify the bravest of men. Even the calm has its inconvenience. The horrid smells are so powerful that you cannot Avithstand them, despite the fact that you use to­ bacco in some shape .from morning till night. "Condemned in 1701 to serve in the galleys of France on account of being a Protestant, Jean Martelle de Bugerdc died in 1777 at Galenburg, on the Gueldre, at the age of 95. He seems to have had (to use a common expres­ sion, though quite in place here) 'his soul riveted to his body.' 'All the con­ victs,' he says, 'are chained six to a bench; these benches are four feet apart, and covered with a bag stuffed with wool, on which is thrown a sheep­ skin. The overseer, who is the master of the slaves, remains aft, near the cap­ tain, to receive his orders. There are two sub-overseers--one amidships, the other on the bow. Each of them is armed with a whip, which he exercises on the naked bodies of the crew. When the captain orders the boat off, the overseer gives a signal from a silver whistle which hangs from his neck. This is repeated by the two others, and at once the slaves strike the water. One would say the fifty oars are but one. Imagine six men chained to a bench, naked as they were born, one foot on the foot-rest, the other braced against the seat in front, holding in their hands an oar of enormous weight, stretching their bodies out, and extending their arms forward into the backs of those before them, who have the same atti­ tude. The oar thus advanced, they raise the end they hold in their hands, so that the other ends shall plunge into the sea. That done, they throw them­ selves back and fall on their seats, which bend on receiving them. Some­ times the slave rows ten, twelve, even twenty hours at a time, without the slightest relaxation. The overseer, or some one else, on such occasions puts into the mouth of the unfortunate rower a morsel of bread steeped with wine to prevent his fainting. If, by chance, one falls over (which often happens),he is beaten until he is given up for dead, and then he is thrown overbord without ceremonv." Advice for Verdant Youths. Miss Pertness--You ought to go to Africa, Mr. Bashful. Mr. B.--To Africa, Miss Pertness? "Yes, you ought to locate on the Sa­ hara. It would be a really philan­ thropic act on your part" "Why so, Miss Pertness?" "There are so few green spots in the desert."--Pittxburgh Dispatch. "PUT no fulsome compliments on my tombstone," said old Tom Alvord, the .THAT FRY, "JIW'T m». JW. :fg A iiiMiiMlSii' a iHiiiL < v Ak« BJEAW A MLIUABAI^• - A HAjrn*»edO*i«*waas«nt to iafl HURT KOHN ia th^K*iwhs name of a New York shoemaker., A MAN named Swindler has been ar- rested in Nebraska for land frauds. ; IT is said that the people of water, Ala., are dying of bad water. Aob sighs when it reviews the past; youth rejoices in the contemplation of the future. POOR milkmen do not water tibek milk as much as rich corporations water their stocks. IT is no trouble to meet a bill. Bui to get &ut of the way of it is most diffi­ cu l t .--Puck . « ' : A SERIES of practical talks to girls has begun in Boston. With, .our girls the most practical talk is the proposal. --Philadelphia Call. "GKOBOB GOULD says he has discov­ ered that marriage is a serious matter," remarked Hobbs. "I cauld have told him as much long agp," replied Fobbe sadly, as he stroked the bruise made bar a flatiron. "I HA.VK borrowed $10,000 and I'm going to build a house. The only is about the architecture. Now, vt . you have it Gothic or Mauresqk.. "As you start out with a mortgage, whv not make it I-o-nic ?" EDITH--Ma, that new maid is dread­ fully stupid. Mamma--What has she done ? Edith--I wanted to practice a little, so I sent her to the music-room for "The Lost Chord." Mamma- Well? Edith--She brought me the clothes-line. "So your husband was a great lover of music," said the minister to the Scotch widow to whom he was admin­ istering consolation. "He was that, puirman," was the tearful reply; "he wad gae ten mile to hear a bagpipe."~ Boston Courier. THE news editor prepared an article in which he said: "Mr. Dash is hope­ lessly ill." Before going to press Mr. Dash died, and a hasty alteration wae made in the sentence to meet the new condition of affairs. When Mr. Dash's friends read in their paper that "Mr. Dash is hopelessly dead" they were naturally shocked. -- Boston Tran­ script. Miss ETHEL--Yes, indeed, we girts are fully alive to the justice of the pop­ ular criticism on chattering woman, and that is the reason we organized our Thought Club. Mr. Blank--Thought Club ? "Yes; and it's doing us such a world of good." "I don't doubt it." "No, indeed. Why, at the last meet­ ing we talked for five whole hours on the advantages of silent meditation." "ARE you aware," inquired Smith of Jones, "that the cigars consumed in this country in 1886 would go around the earth nine times if laid in a straight line?" "No. Is that a fact?" "That's the way they figure it." "Well," re- marked Jones reflectively, "that's '3 making cigars go farther than I imag- - , ined could be done, but it's the only v%| way I know of to make them go far. Fact, I assure you."--Pittsburgh Dis­ patch. KOSCIUSKO MUHPHY recently passed ^ his examination and is now a member of the Austin bar. His strong card is * in getting the truth out of witnesses, di The following is a sample of his system M of cross-examination: "Are yon a mar- ried man?" "No, sir; I am a bachelor." "Will you please tell this court and || jury how long you have been a bache- lor, and what were the circumstance* that induced you to become onC v Texas Siftings. ^ *.* A RTNG IW THE PUR. ' ' ^ IUke the pies that Nellie bakes, ' h ""4 i , The light, crisp crust, the heart deUcicNt J -' 9f spiced fruit between the flakes-- - f All this seems healthy and nutritious, While tasting one the other day, . f *1 My teeth struck something not elastic { , s 9 Aad soon within my palm there lay , ̂ .g A golden ring saved from the gastric. • B . "From Nellie's linger," murmured L j-* »• i A'hen looking o'er the metal mellow, "' i J t.-f Xuearly fainted, to descry *'. 4_.f; v Th' initials of another follow I >--C. L. Cleaveland, in The Rambler. - .AJ-.I COL. YERGER--That parrot keeps tfif Buch an infernal racket that you can t hear yourself speak. Mrs. Yerger--I know it, George; but I must have it on account of my nerves. "On account ol your nerves?" "Yes, I am going out into society a great deal this winter, and the women keep up such a chatter­ ing that if I don't accustom myself to the noise by listening to this parrot soreetching my nerves will not be equal to the emergency." -i -1 ' •m IS The Little Boy's GUI*. " 'I iiave a true story, whieh isweB worth the telling. Last Sunday a young clergyman from a young con­ gregation preached, by exchange, to a congregation which is one of the serene, old-fashioned, undisturbed sort, where, rising generation's undoubted human nature is allowed for in a quiet and sensible way. The visiting clergyman remained to the Sunday-school, and after the exercises were about hall finished he rose to make a little speech. *1 know that you are an enterprising Sunday-school," he said, "because 1 see you are a happy Sunday-school, be­ cause I see so many smiling faces around me. And I know that you are a generous Sunday-school, because that little boy over there by the long pew door offered, me a peanut as I came in." The attention of the assembly %aa instantly directed to the little boy who began to snicker uncontrollably to him­ self. "Well, what's the matter, my little man ?" asked the clergyman. "You are not sorry you offered me the peanut, are you?" "Did you think that was a gave you?" asked the little snickering violently.4 "Why, yes; wasn't it?" "No--o--oi 'twas only a Boston Post. i ̂J One Wise Legislator; A house full of new men nil means an avalanche of bills. The ol hands have better sense. I fell in with | Senator Greer, of Butler, on his way {. down to the session of four years ago, ̂ and asked him if he had any new bills in his pocket. "Two," he said, after a little hesita­ tion, "What is the subject matter of them?" "They are repealing bills," he re­ sponded, and then, with (me of his eon- . tidential laughs, he explained: "You see, whjan I first w cnt into the Senate I ,s offered a great many bills, and get | quite a number of them passed. It has kept me busy repealing them ever % since. If I get these two bills passed it » will wipe the last law of my making ofl the statute book, and I will quit square v.ith the State.--Pittsburgh Dispatch. * THE fortunate circumstances of OUT | lives are generally found ft last at our own producing.--Goldsmith. . f .... % \ -V"; •>£ ' *»* - peanut I boy still ahellP*-'