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:4nUi OU> SCHOOL-BOOKS#, atB, vr. :g»a,'V Wb*t pleasant memories cluster round these volumes old urn! worn, With covers smirched, and bindings created, and pages tiiumiwd and torn t lltese are tho books we used to ooa, I and poor brother Will, , Wlwn we were boyn together, tn the school- house on tlio hill. WM1 I recall the nights at home, when side by' Side we eat Before the fire, nnd o'er these books indulged in vhifc|xiri'd chat, ;<Udhov, when father chided us for-Idling time % away, Oar eyes "bent to the task as though they'd never been astray. -lie old-time proverbs scribbled here, the cau­ tion to beware ("Bteel not thin book, my honest friend") scrawled rouglilv lit re and there, Ifee blurs, the blots, the luncheon spots, fhe numberless dog's ear«, 11M9 faded names, *the pictures, and alas I fhe stains of tears, All take me back in mind to days when oload- less was the sky, Wfcen grief was so short-lived I smiled bef+re my tears were dry; When, nest to father's angry frown, I feared the awful nod That doomed me, trembling, to advance and humbly kiss the rod. How bright those days! Our little cant, our momentary fears, Aad e'en our pains, evanished with a burst of sobs and tears. And every joy seemed great enough to balance all our woes; What pity that when griefs are real, they can't be balanced so 1 The schoolhouse stands in ruin now, the boys have scattered wide; A few are old and gray like me, but nearly all have died; And brother Will is one of these; his curly head was laid Down by the brook, at father's side, beneath the willow's shade.- These books so quaint and queer to you, to Be are living things; Each tells a story of the part, and each a mes­ sage brings. Whene'er I sit, at eventide, and turn their pages o'er. They seem to speak in tones that thrilled my heart in days of yore. 1 The school l>oy of to-day. would laugh, and throw these old books by; But, think you, neighbor, could his heart con­ sent if he were I ? - mtWouthi' Companion. mi' ONE FLIRTATION; > BY MATHKW TBACEY. > I J "Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to say (hat we shall be detained here some hours. There has been an accident on the line be­ yond, and we cannot get through until toward evening." There was no help for it, and the grumb­ ling passengers got eat of the carriage itith various expressions of annoyance. "Oh, Moliie, what shall we do here this afternoon?" "My dear Nina, we'll have some good fan! We're in a strange place, with no­ body to play propriety, nnd we'll make this a day long to be remembered. I'm going to get np a flirtation with somebody, anil yon must do the same. We can have rare fun if you only will." Nina does not fall in with this plan very he ari ly, but proposes to go to a hotel for dinner, and they start immediately. Moliie is small, fair, bewitching; Nina tall, dark, and rather stately looking--just opposite in appearance and disposition, yet the best of friends. "Tare's a large park in this place, for I've heard Cousin WifU speak of it," Nina remarks to Moliie,' /frfeft is before the mirror preparing for tfte afternoon campaign. "Suppose we walk out and find it?" "Just the thing," assented Moliie. "We'll have tun there if anywhere." They have no difficulty in finding the park, and a very pretty place it is. They nnd a rustic seat and sit down "to await the coming man," as Moliie expressed it. "Oh, kere come two of the nobbiest fel- 4ows?" she whispered presently. "Now, Nina, yon must do just as I do." •Moliie, please be careful! Remember Bat they are very near now, and auda­ cious Moliie smiles and slightly bows. Both gentlemen lift their hats, paw on to tew steps, and turn back. •Moliie, don't be reckless!" "Nina, don't be prudish!" foolish Nina hates to be called prudish; bsiides, she is catching the infection, and when the gentlemen pause on their return she sustains her part remarkably well for an amateur. It is only for once, and np one will know of it, she reasons. ' A little distance back of them Nina no­ tices a gentleman reclining on a rustic bench. His face attracts her; a strong, handsome face, with piercing black eyes that might look tender if their owner' so willed, Nina imagined. He must have seen the whole performance, and there is a half- smile of contempt on the line set lips which Nina observes. "Moliie." she finds a chance to whisper aside, "let's get away from these men; we have carried it far enough. Do von see that gentleman over there who is watchine us?" "Pooh! he is only wishing he had the same opportunity;" and Moliie goes on with the "fun." Finally the two gallants propose to go for refreshments at the restaurant near, and even Moliie hestitates. "I think we must return to the hot<jl now," Nina says, quickly. She has learned from their conversation that they are net the sort of company sbe wonld like to appear in, and she deter­ mines to take the matterjin her own hands. They insist on accompanying them to the hotel, and Nina, growing more disquieted every moment, has not the courage to per­ emptorily dismiss them. As they leave the Kk, Nina cannot forbear glancing at the idsome gentleman behind them, She instinctively feels that he despises them all. A year later, Nina Black is at the N Betel, with a party of friends, Moliie Gor­ don not being one of the number. Nina is at a window, observing the new arrivals. Suddenly she starts. Surely there is the face, which having once seen, she has never forgotten! It is the gentleman who wit­ nessed that foolish flirtation in the park at Kewton. The same piercing eyes, the same firm-set mouth, but the contemptuous •mile is gone. Will he recognise her, she wonders? She fervently hopes not, for she is heartily aBhamed of her conduct on that Occasion. She dresses herself with unnsual care as and take possession of a rustic bench oat- side; the ivy forms a complete screen, and Nina is not aware of their proximity until the sound of voices warns her of it. They are evidently discussing some lady, for one of them is saying, "I met her first ou one of the boats going to the seashore. Sbe bowed to me as a means of getting ap n flirtation, and I of course responded. We were together all the afternoon, and I have called on her several times since. She--" "There, Joe. I have heard enongh." Nina starts at the sound of a Veil-known voice, and rises to leave the summer-house, foot the next sentence transfixes her. "Any woman who will deliberately attract the attention of a stranger--'get i$> a flirta­ tion,'as you express it--in so public a place as an excursion boat is unworthy the name of woman." "Now, Cameron, you always did "have some strait-laced notions, and this is pike of them. Why, my dear fellow, they all do it!" "Not all," objects Philip. "I am well aware that a great many do, but I contend that no woman can engage in this sort of thing without lowering her womanhood and rendering herself less respected even by the man who responds to her advances. I tell you, Latimer, I have seen too much of this sort of thing; why,* every school-girl one meets will ogle and smile if one hap­ pens to look at her." "My prophetic soul tells me you will marry an incorrigible flirt," Joe 6ays, not having any opposing argument to advance. "Never! I despise them too heartily." Nina, listening to every word, feels that she can bear it no longer, and succeeds in leaving withont attracting their attention. White and shivering she reaches her own room. So this is Philip Cameron s opinion of a woman who does what she has done! All day she broods over bis cutting words, and when evening comes her mind is made up. She will avoid him as much as possi­ ble, but if the worst comes, and he asks her to be his wife, she will refuse. That dream oi bliss is over for ever. Nina is rather hard on herself, and too generous to throw blame, where it really belongs, on saucy Moliie. The days go by, and Philip is puzzled and not a little troubled at the change in Nina Black. He is not conscious of any fault on his part, and tries in vain to dis­ pel the cloud that has arisen between them. They go out walking one evening to view the sunset from a high point near. Nina feels that she is treading on forbiddeh ground. She has conscientiously avoided being alone with him, but to-night thp temptation is too strong. They witness )k brilliant sunset, and Nina grows enthusi­ astic. i "This is a beauliful world," Philip says, as they watch together the western sky aQ flushed into sudden glory. ; "Yes," Nina replies, dreamily. "Per­ haps it is to some, while others find only the faded gray tints. 'See, the red and gold are fading even now; the beauty in our lives, like the beauty in ponder sky, is but for an hour, and then comes " She stops abruptly, warned by the ex­ pression of his face. He lays his hand tenderly on hers as he says: "And then comes the silvery tint of auiet happiness, which is far better than le transient splendor of excitement." No answer. Nina does not feel equal to talking sentiment with Philip Cameron to­ night; but he goes on eagerly: "Nina, you know I love .von! Oh, my darling, I will strive to make your life perfectly happy! Nina, my love, answer me one word!" . She covers her face with her hands to shut out the vision of his pleading eyes. Oh, if she had then the courage to tell him all! But she still remembers his sweeping assertions of contempt, and her courage fails. He seizes her band almost roughly. "Nina, I believe you love me! Will you not be my wife?" "Philip, it can never be!" He rises quickly, but a glance ather white, pained face restrains him. Again he pleads for one word of love; Nina be­ comes desperate. She rises and faces him. "Philip Cameron, when we met here a few weeks ago you told me my face seemed familiar, and that we must have met be­ fore. We had met before. It was a little more than a year ago, in the public park at Newton. Do you not remember two foolish girls who flirted with two equally foolish young men?" He has risen again, and she knows by the expression of his face that he remgp- bers all. ' "Nina " *' • She stops him with a gesture. i* "I have another confession to make. A week ago I was in the little summer-house near the drive, and overheard part of your conversation with Mr. Latimer. I learned then what I already suspected, that you despise any woman who would lower her­ self to do what I have done, and that -is why I cannot be yoar wife." For a moment they stand facing each other without a word. Philip Cameron is greatly surprised. He has studied Nina all these weeke, and he has exalted her above all women. He has thought her the exponent of pure womanli­ ness, and would have sworn that she was incapable of the boldness to which she confesses. He is silent so long that ishe tries to leave him. "Nina," he cries out, "I can forgive you anything; only tell me that you are not in the habit of doing this thing. I remember thinking that the blonde young lady was the leader. Was it not 60?" But Nina does not utter a word in self- defence. | "Tell me, have you engaged in that kind of a flirtation since?" "Mr. Cameron, you have no right to question me thus." f "I have a right, for you are to be my wife!" - And before Nina can remonstrate, Philip's arms are about her, and she has to acknowledge herself vanquished. that evening, and smiles triumphantly she takeft a parting, glance in the mirror; the reflection of the tall, willowy form, in pale pitok draperies, is evidently satisfac­ tory-. She meets Mr. Philip Cameron, and is introduced a few moments after entenng the drawing-room. Nina almost loses her •elf-possession as tbfe black eyes rent on her so keenly; but evidently he does not recognize her, and in a few moments they Ote chatting in a very friendly manner. And as the music strikes up they aiVebon J^iding through the lighted rooms. They stroll out in the grounds aftfer 'the Waltz is over. - .. , • "Your face seems very familiar to 'me," he says, musingly, looking down into her dark, expressive eyes as they stand in the moonlight. "Can it be possible we have Over met before to-night?" , She laughs lightly, perhaps a little guilt- fly. for she remembers it all so well. _ "Once having observed a face I never forget it." he goes on without waiting for a «eply. "For instance, I met a gentleman In a restaurant a few weeks ago who im- {ressed me as someone whom I had seen efore, but I could not determine when or Where. This morning I suddly remembered Chat be was in a train with me two years • #g° occupied a seat opposite." "You would make a good'detective," she ijays, feeling that it is only a question of time when he will remember that un­ fortunate afternoon. "Why should I care?" fhe thinks, impatiently. "It is no more fban hundreds of girls do every day, and 4hink nothing of it." ' > Rut she does care nevertheless. Itisthe Skeleton at the feast of good things which follows. Picnics, drives, walks, with in the evening to bewildering , Nina enjoys it all so thoroughly, ltta rhilip Cameron constantly at her Side. A sultry, morning, and Nina is lounging Jst one of the little summer-houses that <§Bt the lawn. Two gentlemen come up President* and Horses. Zacliary Taylor never looked BO im­ posing as when he appeared on horse­ back. Jefferson was a fine judge of horse­ flesh, and spent a good deal of his time in the saddle. President Buchanan was frequently seen on horseback and he owned a set of harness which cost $800. Lincoln was friendly to horseflesh, and had several pets in his stable. Hp always wore a high silk hat when he rode ont. President Tyler had some good horses, but he rode in a second-hand carriage, which was the only thing his friends had against him. During the latter part of his tenp President Artlrar took horseback rides almost daily and made a graceful ap­ pearance in the saddle. Gen. Grant was always associated with his horses, and his long experience in campaigning made him thoroughly at home in the saddle. It is said that a tip which a man once gave Andrew Jackson on a horse race saved that man's life when Jacksob afterward became President. John Quincy Adams was so enthusi­ astic a lover of horses^that he never missed the raoes which were held pear Washington while he was living at the capital. President Harrison pranced to his in­ auguration at the Capitol on a milk- white steed, imitation of the emperors as they cavorted along the Appian way. George Washington was so fond of horses that he once gave a stable boy a flogging because lie neglected to rub his animal down after he had come in wet from a hard gallop. „ President Cleveland has never tried a saddle-horse since he has been in Washington, and people say he is too heavy to sit well on a liorse. His car­ riage team, however, is one of the most stylish at tile capital. Eton Montem. ANECDOTES OF NAPOLEON. Hia,Personal Habtta In Palace Mid Canj>- v A Petition to the King of Koine. Having got rid of Josephine by di­ vorce, says St. James* Gazette, Napo­ leon found a successor to her in Marie- Louise of Austria, who is thus described by Mme. Durand: " . Marie-Louise was then 1$} years' old; she had a majestic figure, a noble car­ riage, a great deal of freshness and bloom, fair hair, which was not insipid, blue eyes, but they had animation in them, hands and feet which might have served as models for a sculptor. She was, perhaps, a little too stout--a defect she soon got rid of jn France. Such were the personal advantages which were first remarked in her. Nothing could be more gracious, more amiable, than her faoe, when she was quite at ease, either in her private life or in the society of those persons with whom she was particularly intimate; but in public, and especially on her first arrival in France, her timidity gave her an em­ barrassed air which many people mis­ took for haughtiness. She had been very carefully educated. No woman could have suited Napoleon better. When Napoleon married Princess Marie-Louise he was 41 years of age, and here is an account of his personal habits: In camp, and during liis early cam­ paigns, Napoleon feared no fatigue, braved the worst weather, slept tinder a wretched tent, and seemed to forget all care for his person. In his palace he bathed almost every day, rubbed his whole body over with eau de cologne, and sometimes changed his linen several times a day. His favorite costume was that of the mounted Chasseurs de la Garda. When traveling he did not care what sort of lodging he had, pro­ vided that no ray of light could get into his bedroom; he could not bear even a night lamp. His table was supplied with the daintiest dishes, but he never touched them. His favorite dish was grilled breast of mutton, or a rpast fowl with lentils or haricot beans. He was very particular about the quality of bread, and he drank none but the best wine, and very little of it. It has been stated that he drank eight or ten cups of coffee daily, but this is a fable to be discarded with so many others. He took a small cup of coffee after his breakfast and the same after his dinner. He ate very fast and rose the moment he was done without troubling himself as to whether those who were admitted to his table had had time to dine. It has also been asserted that he took the greatest precautions against poison; this, too, is pure falsehood. , He spoke in a loud voice, and when he was in a merry mood his peals of laughter could be heard from afar. He was fond of sing­ ing, though he had a bad voice, and never could sing an air in tun6. When Marie-Louise bore a son who was designated king of Rome the em­ peror was highly pleased and took great interest in the child, a frolic with whom always put him into good humor. Per­ sons who came at such times to solicit favors were pretty sure to be graciously received. M. V , a man of real talent, who was at once highly informed and very Eoor, asked for an appointment, but, aving no patron, three or four peti­ tions which he presented never reached the hands of the emperor. Worn out, impatient, and daily growing poorer, he devised a stratagem which -would have been worthy of a courtier of Louis XIV. Necessity frequently inspires happy thoughts; he drew up with great care a little placet, which he addressed to "His Majesty the King of Home." He only asked for a place worth 100 louis; this was a very modest request. Full of the hope of success, he went to M. D , a superior officer, who was aid- de-camp to the emperor, stated his dis­ tressful case, and showed him the placet. M. D , whose kindness was equal to his valor, led the petitioner into the presence of Napoleon. . His majesty took the paper and remarked the super­ scription with evident pleasure as well as surprise. "Sir," said the applicant, "that is a/petition for his majesty the king of ^tome." "Very well, then," said fhe emperor, "let it be take* to its ad­ dress. " The king of Home was then 6 months old. A chamberlain was ordered to conduct the petitioner into the presence of his baby majesty. M. N , seeing that fortune smiled upon him, was equal to the occasion. He presented himself before the cradle of the king, and after he had made a profound and respectful reverence he unfolded the paper and read its contents in a loud and distinct voice. The infant king having uttered some inarticulate sounds, M. V and the chamberlain 8 gain saluted his majesty and returned to the emperor, who asked, with the greatest seriousness, what answer they had ob­ tained. "Sirs," said the chamberlain, "his majesty the king of Rome made no reply." "Very well," said Napoleon, "silence gives consent." Shortly after­ ward M. V was appointed to a post in a department administration at a salary of 6,000 francs. citing his ode and flourishing oopiea of it for sale: When the procession came to tlio top of Salt Hill, the ensign waved his flag a second time, and that ended the celebration; only the boys and the visitors all went to the inns at Windsor for a big dinner.--"A Glimpse oj Eton School," by Edwin D. Meade, in St. Nicholas. Co-operation. No system is so injurious to labor and capital alike as that of intermedi­ ate bossism. The middleman, who ia a non-producer, who is rarely a capi talist, who is generally below the aver> age in intelligence, whose only quali-<' fications are egotism, a supreme con­ tempt for the rights of others, and sometimes the brutality of the slaVc driver, always succeeds in appropriating to himself a large income, which ho does not earn by honest labor, and which is deducted from the rightful earnings of labor and capital combined. Take the building trades alone in this city, and calculate the tax these middlemen impose upon them. Five million dollars yearly, at the lowest calculation, is appropriated by them, which should be in justice equally dis­ tributed between capital and labor. Forty thousand workmen are annually employed in the building trades in Philadelphia, and this is a very low estimate, Jnd in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred none of those are directly employed in- the capitalist who invests his monel in the enterprise. Every contractor! as a rule, calculates to make 50 emits per day of profit off tho men he 1 employs, so that it only on > contractor employed all the hel and finished the operation all throug] his profit would amount to $G,000,C ) in the buildings erected in Philade' is not the c pe. >liia in one year. But this Any old Eton boy would tell you that you might as well never have been born as hot to know about Mon­ tem. Why, Montem was as old as Queen Elizabeth's time, and Queen Victoria was very sorry to have to con­ sent to have it broken up. The senior colleger was captain of Montem, and he sometimes made £1,000 out of it. On the morning of Montem day, the 'captain gave a great breakfast in the Hall to the fifth and sixth forms. Then the boys marched twice around the school yard, the ensign waved the great flag, the corporals drew their swords, and the procession started through the Playing Fields to Salt Hill, in a long line, accompanied by two or three regimental bands. The oflicers wore red-tail coats, white trousers, cocked hats with feathers, and regimental boots; and the lower boys wore blue coats with brass but­ tons, white waistcoats and trousers, silk stockings and pumps, and carried slender white poles. But before this, long before sunrise, the salt-bearers and their twelve assistants had gone, some on foot and some in gigs, to their places on all the great roads leading to Eton, to beg "salt" from everybody they met. Salt meant money; and everybody had to give them salt. George the Third and Queen Charlotte always gave fifty guineas apiece. The money went to the captain of Montem, to help him pay his expenses at the university to which he was to go after leaving Eton. The salt-bearers carried satin money bags and painted staves, and as receipts for the salt that they secured they gave little printed tickets with the date of the year and a Latin motto. * Everybody went to Montem. King George always used to go, and Queen Victoria went. There was always "Montem poet" who dressed in patch- wdrk end wore a crown; and he drove about the crowd in a donkey-cart re- No. 1 contractor takes the whole work throu ;h, of course calculating the usual profi of the men he directly em­ ploys, and similar amount off his sub contracts; So. 2 contractor digs tho cellar unde similar conditions; No. 3 lays the sto e; No. 4, carpenters; No. 5, brick-laylrs; No. 6, roofers; No. 7, plumbers; No. 8, gas-fitters and bell- hangers; Nb. 9, lathers; No. 10, plas­ terers; No.ill, mantel-setters; No. 12, painters; Ifo. 13, chandelier-makers; No. 14, paplr hangers, and a number of others, such as granite or soft-stone cutters, one* of which, and often both, must be employed, and sometimes fres­ co-painters and decorators. All these sub-contractors must have their profit, and this profit must come from tho workingmen or the capitalist, or both. The question now arises, can this ex-, penditure be avoided ? and If so, how ? And we answer, it can, and by co-oper­ ation. The building trades, united as they are at present, could without much trouble convert their present system of wage-working into co-operation. We do no* assert that co-operation would eradicate the wrongs or remove all the grievances to which labor is sub­ jected, but we assert that it would greatly ameliorate the condition of those who are the employes of sub-con- tractors,- and sometimes of sub-con­ tractors' sub-contractors. Henry George says that "co-operation in supply let it go as far as it may, in excluding middle­ men, only reduces the cost of ex­ changes;" but this reduction must come first into the pockets of the producers, and $5,000,000 distributed among them in the course of a year would give them many comforts of which they are at present deprived.--Building Trades' Journal The Eight-JIour Working Dll* Every indication points us to the be­ lief that such a further reduction in hours of labor, even below the eight- hour limit, is not only possible, but ex­ ceedingly probable, if it is allowed to come naturally, not artificially; that the progress of art and science is rapidly tending, where it is unchecked, to make less labor necessary for man's subsist­ ence. Nothing could be so certain to check or destroy this tendency as an organized effort by labor to gain a forced, artificial, and unfair advantage over its employer. When hours of la­ bor are far above the limit possible at the time, statutory interference can do camparatively little harm; the nearer they approach the natural limit, tho more does statutory interference tend to drive them up again. Labor organi­ zations can do very little by striving for a legal eight-hour day; they can do very much by striving to sweep away passion and prejudice, by upholding peace, order, and security, the condi­ tions of efficient production, and by in­ culcating an intelligent consideration of facts by their members. Only in this way can they gain or approach an eight- hour working day.-- The Century. General B. Gen. B. was considered noted as a civilian before! the war commenced; but his appearnice. as a military com­ mander was far Jfrom soldierly. When in chief command of an expedition or off duty he went in citizen's dress, and that usually in Ihe most boorish taste. One of his aids,! who had been left be­ hind when the General and staff started on an expedition was inquiring his way with a view to overtaking them. "Have you sden Gen. B. pass herq this morning?" be asked of the officer of the guard at one of the regimental camps. "No," said the Lieutenant; "there has been' no general this way this morning. There was a suspicious-look­ ing crowd along here about an hour ago, and in the middle of it there was an enormous shirt collar. Who there was inside of it, or whether any one was there, I am unable to say." "That's Gen. B.," said the aide, and away he galloped to overtake the suspi­ cious shirt collar. PCBING the past summer A young Frenchman proposed to his wife to take a little tour in Switzerland. "What is there in Switzerland?" asked the in­ genuous lady. "What is there in Switzerland?" echoed her husband. "Why there is the most wonderful scenery in the world--lofty mountain peaks tipped with rosy snow, verdant vales, sleeping lakes, and " "Oh, bother your sleeping lakes," cried she. "take me somewhere where there are shops to buy things at!" HE wan a venerable and agricultural- looking man, attired in the latest New Jersey fashion, and he stood at a street corner near Washington Market. Hold­ ing up his left hand, and gazing re flectively upon three pieces of string tied round an equal number of fingers, he soliloquized: "That's to remind mq --get a spool of cotton; t'other means don't forget the calico. But what is this one for? Ah, that's don't get drank again." A. RAILWAY traveler says that he really caught cold through sitting next to a wet nurse. ' How Ireland Is Governed. One of the chief grievances of which those Irishmen who desire home rule complain is the way in which Irelaud is governed by English officials. All the local affairs of Ireland, indeed, are under the direct or indirect control of what is called "the Government of Dub­ lin Castle." Dublin Castle has been, for many centuries, the residence of the chief executive ruler of Ireland, who has always been appointed by the British crown, and has been the repre­ sentative of the British King or Queen in that country. The Lord Lieutenant, or Viceroy, of Ireland, as this ruler is called, has al­ ways enjoyed large, almost despotic, powers. He is not responsible, in any way, to the Irish people, over whose concerns he exercises so large an authority. He is responsible only to •the British Cabinet, and, through it, to the British Parliament. If every Irish­ man in the land opposed his policy, they could not call him to account. So long as he was sustained by the British Government he could do as he pleased. Usually the Lord Lieutenant has been a great English peer. When he has been, as the present holder of the office is, an Irish nobleman, he has yet been devoted to British, rather than to Irish interests. Associated with the Lord Lieutenant is the "Chief Secretary for Ireland," who is almost invariably an English­ man, who sits as a member of the Brit­ ish House of Commons, and who goes jn and out of office with the British political party to which he belongs. The Lord Lieutenant also holds his place only so long as his party is in power. These two chief officials, with their headquarters at Dublin Castle, preside over a large body of mi^or officials, and over the general land con­ cerns of Ireland. The Lord Lieutenant has a very wide range of appointing power. Ire' land's affairs are mainly administered by a number of boards, the chief of which are the boards of local govern­ ment, public works, national and inter­ mediate education, lunacy, fisheries, charities, prisons, and loan funds. The members of all these boards are chosen by the Lord Lieutenant, and work unde* his supervision. They manage all the affairs relating to the poor, public health, cattle diseases, the prisons, and the schools, and other purposes of local governing bodies. There are local elective boards in the Irish towns, but these are elected by a restricted suffrage, and their acts may be reversed and rejected by the central boards at Dublin. The Lord Lieuten­ ant also appoints the Lord Lieutenants of the Irish counties, and these in their turn, select the unpaid magistrates who dispense justice in the local courts. It is said that, although Ireland is Catho­ lic by more than four to one, three- quarters of the local magistrates so ap- Eointed are Protestants. The Lord lieutenant selects the Poor-law Guard­ ians, and the Sheriffs of the counties; and the Sheriffs, in their turn, appoint the Grand Juries, which, in Ireland, possess large powers of local control. The "stipendiary" magistrates, who are paid for their services, and who hold higher courts, are also selected by the central power at Dublin Castle. The police, who have in charge the mainte­ nance of public order in Ireland, are under the command of an inspector general at Dublin, who is the appointee of the Lord Lieutenant; and the police, also, are really under his control. The Irish police are a military force, armed with rifles and swords, and drilled in military fashion. Thus it is seen that the local affairs, the administration of justice, and the preservation of order in Ireland are virtually in the hands of the Lord Lieu­ tenant, who is not in the least responsi­ ble to the country wherein he exercises his great powers, buWmly to the Brit­ ish Government. Mr. Chamberlain, the British statesman, v^jbo has recently opposed Mr. Gladstone's scheme of home rule, yet declared, on one occa­ sion, that the system of British rule iu* Ireland "is as completely centralized as that with which Russia governs Poland. An Irishman at this moment," he added, "cannot move a step, cannot lift a fin­ ger in any parish, municipal, or educa­ tional work, without being confronted by, interfered with, controlled by an English official, appointed by a foreign government, and without a shadow of representative authority." -- Youth's Companion. He Was No Tell-Tale. The code of schoolboy honor outlaws a tell-tale, and there is no meanness which a high-spirited boy more thor­ oughly despises. When Salmon P. Chase, afterwards Senator, Governor of Ohio, Secretary of the Treasury and Chief Justioe of the United States, was a boy, he was at ochool at Cincinnati. One day there was a fire made in one of the rooms. The boys were called up find catechised as to its origin. All ex­ cept Chase denied all knowledge of the affair. When the questidjn was put to him as to whether he knew who had lighted the fire he replied: "I do." "Who was it?" "I will not tell." The professor grew angry. The pres­ ident was called in and Chase was again asked. He again refused, saying: "Mr. President, I did not intend to insult Prof. Blank, but I am not going to lie. [ know who made the fire, but I will leave the school before I will become a tell-tale." As he said this his large intellectual eyes looked squarely into that of the president, and the latter fully appreci­ ated that he meant it. He said that he would excuse Chase this time, and dis­ missed him with a slight reprimand. Digging in a Glacier. A well at Yakutsk, to Siberia* * has been a standing puzzle to scientists for many years. It was begun in 1828, but given up at thirty feet because it was still in frozen earth. Then the Russian Academy of Sciences continued for some months the work of deepening the well, but stopped when it had reached to the extent of some 382 feet, when the ground was still frozen as hard as a rock. In 1844 the Academy had the temperature of the excavation carefully taken at various depths, and from the data thus obtained the ground was estimated to be frozen at a depth of 612 feet. As external cold could not freeze the earth to such a depth, even in Siberia, geologists have concluded that the well has penetrated a frozen formation of the glacial period which has never thawed out. WHAT the students considered "an aggravating case of cowhiding" recently occurred at an Eastern college. The wily old janitor hid his cow to prevent the students from taking her to the top of the dormitory. MICHAEL ANGELO, the great Italian architect, was bom In 1475 and died in 1664. Tricks of Hone Traders. "I've got a trick horse in my stablo at this moment," said my friend, the veterinary surgeon and trader, "that will make me big money before people get onto his tricks. Snider's coming to try a trade with me to-day, and if you wait till he happens along you'll witness the hull racket. Ah! here's the Jim dandy now, as I'm a sinner V Snider is a milkman who varies the monotony of dairy devices by occa­ sionally resorting to traders' tricks. I make this statement on the author­ ity of people who own lactometers and have swapped horses with Snider; not necessarily to cast any reflection on the gentleman's propity or his publio use­ fulness. "How do, Snider? How is the colt?" "No better, Doc." "Guess IU have to take him myself, Snider?" "Bout the size of it, Doc." I "Gimme $50 to boot and my mi mar's yours!" "Lemme hev another look at that new mar, Doc, 'fore I close." The new mare was brought out and Snider went over her very carefullv. iShe looks all right, Doc." 'Sound as a fresh egg, I'll warrant Snfcler." "I guess 111 risk her in other ^frays and go you. Here's the coin* Take the colt and gimme the mar." "You gimme the colt and take the mar, Snider! That's the way to put it! Hyar, Lou, move!" The Doc yelled this last at his animal and administered to her a vigorous kick on the flank at the same time. The mare, heretofore lively and obedi­ ent, suddenly stood still and planted her four feet in the soil as if she ment to take root. "Take her off, Snider!" exclaimed the Doc, putting away his $50. "I'm in a h u r r y . " • • • • > " , t Snider proceeded. But the mare wouldn't. , He coaxed, he jerked, he slapped, he shoved, he prodded. The mare was as immovable as a stone fence. Schemes of various kinds were re­ sorted to to waken her up, but all in vain. Then Snider, sweating and swearing, decided to give it up as a bad job. He accordingly delivered himself of this unstudied oration: "Doc, you know well that if there is any--thing--on-- this--earth I hate worse'n Satan, it's a darned balker. You've got one onto me this trip. Call the dicker off, an' say it's only a cod." ( "Can't think of it, Snider!" quietly replied the Doc. "A bargain's a bar- gain. Take the mar 'n git, 'fore you rile me with yer funk!" "Take an' git!" exclaimed Snider. "Don't you see an airthquake wouldn't budge the brute. Say, Doc," he pro­ ceeded in a more conciliatory tone, "I'll drop $25 on the deal and never say another word about it. Come!" "Well," said the Doc thoughtfully, "I hate to give back good money I win on the square spec; but seein' it's you, Snider, here's half your boot and the trade's off. Git back to your stall, Lou!" and by a magic touch the balky mare was made to frisk into the stable without another word. "As I was telling you, just before Snider came up, I want only a trick hoss, whose tricks are worth something. I got that mar, Lou, down pretty fine in three weeks' lessons, ain't I? She'll make a pile for me if each sucker as he gets kitched on her doesn't squeal and give the snap too dead away."--Ex­ change. No Encouragement. Old Dawson stood on a street corner, with one hand over one eye. His face wore an expression of pain and disgust. "What's the matter, Uncle Dawson?" some one asked. "Somebody gwine ter git hurt, dat's wLut's de matter. Neber seed sich conditions ez dese heah we'se got on han's at de present. Dar ain't no 'cour- agement 'roun' heah fur er man ter keep sober an' s'port his fam'ly. Look at dis heah eye; nearly gouged out. Fur de las' ten yeahsl'se been er comin' ter dis town an' er gettin' drunk ebery time I come, an' nuthin' neber hap­ pened. ter me outen de way, but dis mawnin' ez I wuz comin' in I thinks ter merse'f, dis way: Look heah, Dawson, keep on wid yer foolishness an' some­ body gwine ter hurt yer, somebody gwine ter up yer, sho'. Er drunk man is., mighty ap' ter git hurt sooner or later, an' y&r'd better look out! Dese thoughts skeered me, da did, an' I 'zolved dat I wan't gwine ter git drunk in town no mo'. Wall, sah, wid dat lution straung in mer mine, I walked 'roun' tendin' ter mer bus'ness, glad dat I wan't in no danger, when de first thing I knowed er drunk man staggered np er gin me, hauled off, knocked me down, kicked me, an' den re'ehed down an' tried ter gouge dis heah eye out-- dis eye, dis 'un right heah. Laung ez I kep' drunk 1 wuz all right an' didn't git hurt, but jes ez soon ez I 'gun ter stay sober, it wuz all wrong an' I did git hurt. Dat's whut makes me say whut I does, dat da ain't no 'courage- ment roun' heah. I'se gwine down yander ter dat bar! house an' fill mer­ se'f full, dat's whut I'se gwine ter do." The next morning he was taken be­ fore the police court, having been ar­ rested for drunkenness and disorderly conduct. When the judge had pro­ nounced sentence on him, the old fellow said: "Bless de Lawd, I doan know whut ter do. Ef I stays sober folks tries ter kill me, an' ef I gits drunk da locks me up. Ter save mer life I kain't fine no 'couragement roun' heah. Take me erway," he added, addressing an officer.- "Take me erway an' I doan kere ef yer flings mer offen de bluff."--Arkanaaw Traveler. A Hint to the Wealthy. . "Don't you know," said a Chicago capitalist, "that I do not see how so many men are poor, or rather, why more aro not rich. Why, every day I have from five to ten callers, any one of whom has discovered a scheme by means of which he can make a million in less time than I can make a thousand. Yet they stay poor. Why don't they work tlreir schemes ? Oh, they all need a lit­ tle capital. I think some philanthropic millionaire ought to die and bequeath a few hundred thousand to a fund for the 'development of schemes;' if the schemes don't pay a fair interest to the fund we would have a precedent which would enable rich men to refuse such appeals without having to listen to long- winded explanations." It was suggested that the speaker practice his theory of endowment, but the atmosphere grew chill thereat and the conversation closed. --Chicago Herald. MOUSE jewelry is the latest caprice in the eccentric jewelry business. Bangles, rings for ear or finger, pins, and pendants are decorated with a skill­ fully modelled little animal, warranted not to squeak, nor make the wearer hop on to the nearest chair or table. ran AND ponrr. THE streets of married life should? never be kept In family jaw. WHEN doe* M man impose upon him- , self ? When he taxes his memory* • f SITTING BULL has five wives. They. manage to keep his wigwam for him. WHY IS a lazy young dog like an in-: olinsd plane? Because he is a BIOWptip*1 IN the olden times we lived bv days ^ of toil. Now we liv* by Knights of Labor. I Ijr there is any one who shculd lie' "rapped in slumbe;," It Is the man who i snores. "NOW, THEN,"(laid thft danning-maatoy when he was setting his clock, "all t hands around." "WHAT," asked Toozer, "do you think of a man who owed his tailor a bill for two years?" "The deuce!" ex­ claimed Brown, excitedly,."Who is the tailor! Quick!" "THIS is a rather dead kind of town," said, a drummer in a wearied tone of .voice to the barkeeper. "Well, what can you expect," was the dogged reply, "when the principal industry of the > place is a crematory ?"--Judge. THE self-sacrifice of boxers is really something wonderful. There are very few who would not prefer their oppo­ nents to have the newest, softest, and best gloves, while they would put up themselves with an old and hard pair. " MOTHER," said a little girl to her 'parent, who takes a great interest in charitable institutions, "I wish I were an orphan!" "Why so, my d^ar?" "Be­ cause I should see more of you; for you aro always going to the orphan asy­ lum." WHEN a woman gets on a street car and spreads out her skirts so.that she occupies two seats, you can make up your mind that her husband always sits on the edge of his chair and says, "Yes, m'm," "No, m'm" to her--New Haven News. "JIM," said an honest coal dealer to one of his men, "Jim, make that ton of icoal two hundred pounds short. It is for that poor delicate widow, and she will have to carry all of it up two ifliglits of stairs. I don't want to over­ tax her strength." "I'SEE in the paper that the new comet is visible to the naked eye," said Amy to her friend, the high-school girl. "Would it not be better to say that it was visible to the unclothed organ of rvision?" gently suggested Mildred.-- ^Pittsburgh Chronicle. • SMITH--I say, Brown, there comes IDumley. Let us turn this corner and ^void him. Brown--What's the trouble, io you owe him money? Smith--No; but he sat up with a corpse night be­ fore last and is boring his friends to {death about it.--Puck. "WHAT have you for dessert?" asked jthe tired boarder of the new girl, with Ispit curls and an avenging smile. '"Mincepieapplepieraspberr y r o 11 a n d cocoan utpuddin'only thecocoanutpud- din'salloutandthat'swliatyougetforc o m- in'late," answered the sweet thing. FIRST young doctor--I had a patient named Pillkins when 1 first came, but have lost track of him. Second young doctor--I know him; had him once; he was a regular dead-beat. "He was?" "Yes, never got a cent out of him." "How did he escape paying you?" "He died." "AH, doctor, you are here ?" mur­ mured Mrs. Rugefix upon coming to herself after a fainting fit; "I am in­ debted to you for my life." "Not your life, madam," replied the doctor with a graceful bow, "but perhaps I have helped you in another way. All the women here declared you had fainted, but with your complexion, madam, the thing was absurd. I therefore insisted that you were rendered unconscious by a rush of blood to the head." The Effect of Millerism. The effect of Millerism upon the re­ ligious sentiment of to-day, the trend of the world's thought, is not so insig­ nificant as might be supposed. Its effect upon the aggregate is the evolution of effect upon the individual, updn the children of the followers of William Miller in particular. The Christ of my childhood was not" the loving Christ of mj' latter years. He was an offended judge, coming to burn up the world, and how I wished he might be driven out of the heavens, his throne taken by one who wonld let the world go on as it was! Not until I was a girl in my .teens, and one of a merry set at board­ ing-school, did I lose that sickening dread with which for years I had fallen asleep. It was at that time I almost ceased saying my prayers, glad when I could forget their omission. Then came the Sahara of Skepticism; how else had been reached the path to a certain faith ? The children of the Millerites are indebted to their early experience for a quickening of their inner life, which, forced and unnatural as it was, proved their after-salvation from formal ac­ ceptance of religious teaching without questioning or doubt. They are to be found, as a rule, identified with ortho­ doxy, I and are characterized by a healthy independence of thought, a tendency to probe for the foundamentals of doctrine. I think it may be said of them that they have a wholesome aver­ sion to the literal interpretation of Scripture, the letter that killeth, as it killeth much of the joy of their child­ hood. "According to that system," they say, the world would have come to an end in 1843 or 1844, There would have been no help for it." To them Millerism was a spiritual cyclone, clear­ ing away tho thick fogs of naturalism. "We cannot understand," wrofcte Theo­ dore Parker, "the mental and religious state ef men who saw the divine in a serpent, a cat, or an enchanted ring; yet each religious doctrine has some time stood for a truth. It was devised to help pious hearts, and has imper­ fectly accomplished its purpose. It could not have been but as it was. Re­ ligious history is a tale of confusion. But, looking deeper, we see it is a series of developments, all tending toward one great and beautiful end, the harmonious perfection of man. Each form may perish, but its truth never dies."--The Century. But Few Succeed. An old merchant said years ago that not more than one per cent, of the best class of merchants succeed without fail­ ing in Philadelphia. Not more than two per cent, of the merchants of New York ultimately retire on an indepen­ dence after having submitted to the usual ordeal of failure, and not more than three out of every hundred mer­ chants in Boston acquire an indepen­ dence. In Cincinnati, out of 400 busi­ ness men in business twenty years ago, five are now doing business.--Dry Goods Chronicle. AT the Aquarium--"Oh, mamma! js that a real turtle or only a mock tw- Ue?" .