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UNDU* WOOESTr, . .. 'j* "i swift coupe the* frctotvjssi' Bow JitttSl tRrcehVMat a fy J '* ^ 'fdii , -- jat daw**rf< . I noltnomlel^e nay heart a •lavement ; (JbeoM ,wske from the «!>TTKoirr<yf one brief hour, To live agnin iu Hint HI»< contentment; Btnlw (HI- Uig.ur tlmn wealtk or power, > Hm priceless {KtsestMMpl F»ar «WMt OOQMnt meant. ' ' '• '.IN. Ilittlethondhttn that hvrried ride, lire tbe dying afflatus of ~ 1 he Beggar Stn- ' c ' Were lout in the whir at the wheels outside, That I for an uwi'ivnt could l»e so imprudent, 80 msh and mi foolish km Tt>(»r^e Tbe barriers that stiH from vou divide me; thai fort une and rit:tk are ail voitrg, at d Yet-- Well. I loat myself, fWi.Unj; yon h-elde iim jLltrt I must confess that I ^ou't quite know How it was, but i fount wif »tm about you. And durllns, I found thnt i love.I you so "Hut 1 felt 1 never ooul I live wiihout you. -Stair lips were so temptingly near-in y own, Aia<i your eves met miue with a trusting stray . glance. I<!r«le the sweete-t kSss I >ind ever known Wu that, in its glorious subtle frngranos. > i • I said what I had no right to say, :f Bat the answer ymi gave tnmle me audacious; OfH ruins t lie orairage to cue or swtif Htd you been leas kind, had you been less gra­ cious. ft was wrotiir mv love, I'd no right to let r(> , ; My .ecret, or to say I love you. „ y Aa«t vou're freo HK VOU wore Inifore we met, ' ~ ' Or the liir la that circle the air above yoa. J8" ' $f A * V'-v ( J If you've any doubt, of your Yes last ni«hft. • I know how unworthy 1 aui. and therefore - Shall not be surprised it the cold daylight Will show you U it not one you car* for. HKR AKSWJES. s.-- : ' Vow not* ic received. has been dulyrevi; • $»'• , VSl» aorrv that conscience should thus affafet v- ' you ; - ff you've IUIV doubt of my meaning. Fred, s? \ • I'm at hori)e to-nfgtu. and may 1 expect you? •C" v -v, 1 * f ? - > ' V T H E B L A C K D O O v There was acea eless rumble in the *1*" as the heavy raJ»Mirep» battered ttpoft the laurel-thickets and the matted m«« and haggara • rocks be­ neath. Four water-soaked men,made their difficult vways through the drenched forest The little man stopped and <-hook an angry flnprer at where night wa; stealthily following them. ••Cursed be fate and her chil­ dren and her children's children! We are everlastingly lo-t"' he cried. The panting procession halted under some dripping, drooping hemlocks and bwore in wrathful astonishmeut ••It will rain for forty days and forty nights," said the pudgy man. cuoaningly, "and I feel like a wet loaf of bread now. We shall never find our way out of this wilderness until I am made into a porridge." In desperation they started again to drag their listless bodies through the watery bushes. After a time the clouds withdrew from above them and great winds came from concealment and went sweeping ana swirling among the trees. JJignt also came very near and menaced the wanderers* with darkness. Tne little man had determination in bis legs. He scrambled among the thickets and made desperate attempts to And a path or road. As he climbed a hillock he espied a small clearing upon which sat desolation ami a venerable house, wept over by wind waved pines. 1 'Ho," he cried, "here's a house." His companions strangled painfully lifter him as he fought the thickets between him and the cabin. Ait their approach the wind trenzledly opposed them and skirled madly in the trees. The little man boldly confronted the weird glances from the crannies of the cabin and rapped on the door. A score of timbers answered with irraans and, within something fell to the floor with a clang; "Ho," said the little man. He stepped back a few pace-. • ** Somebody in a distant part started aad walked across the floor toward the door with an ominous step. A •late-colored min appeared. He was dressed in a ragged shirt and trousers, tbe latter stu..'ed into his boots. Large tears were falling from his eyes. "How-d'-do, my friend?" said the littie man, atTahiy. "My ol' uncle, Jim Crocker, he's siek ter death,' replied the t*late-col- •ored person , "Ho," said the Iitt!e man. "Is that ao?" .The latter's clothing clung desper­ ately to him and water sog^ed in his hoots. He stood patiently on one foot for a time. " "Can you put U3 up here until to- •Borrow?" he asked, Anally. 4tYes," said the slate-colored man. 'The party passed into a little un- «ra4heri room, inhabited by a stove, a £&atrwav~, a few precarious chairs and A mHs&hapen table. *CL fry yer some po'k and *nake yer f»rstfcal afcmosplbere of gloom. Suddenly a Strange cry came, t6 their ears from somewhere. It was a low, trembling call, which made the little roan quake privately in his shoes. The slate-colored man bounded at the stairway and disappeared with a flash of legs through a hole in the ceiling. The party below heard two voices in conversation, one belonging to the slate-colored man and the other in the quavering tones of age. Di rectly the slate-colored man reap nftared from above and said: "The ol' man is too* bad foi*his supper." He hurriedly prepared a mixture with hot water, salt and beef. Beef tea it might be called. He disap- Once more the party vaguely, talkiqg over Tne roice of age arose pea red again, below heard, their heads, to a shriek. Open the * * :»«• *V?v' ::Myi: •••• . i<frr ••te m* m coffee," said the slate-colored with weight of death m tuan to this guests. 4,Qo ahead, old boy," cried the lit­ tle man cheerfully from where he sat «u the table, smoking his pipe and Wangling his legs,. -"My oP uncle, J!m Crocker, he's dick ter death," said the slate-colored window fool! Do you think I can liye in the smell of 'your soup?" Mtitterings by the slate-colored man and the creaking of a window were heard. The slate-colored man stumbled down the stairs and said^with intense tgloom, "The black dorir'll be along isoon." ' The little man started, and the pudgy man sneered at him. They ate a supper and then sat waiting. The pudgy man listened so palpably that the, little man wished to kill him. The wood fire became excited and sputtered frantically. Without a thousand spirits of the winds had become entangled in the pine branches and were lowly pleading to be loosened. The slate-colored man tip­ toed across the room and lit a timid candle. The men sat waiting. The phintom dog lay cuddled to a round bundle, asleep down the mad- way against the windward side of an old shanty. The specter's master had moved to Pike County. But the dog lingered as a friend might linger at the tomb of a friend. His fur was like a suit of old clothes. His jowls hung and flopped, exposing his teeth. Yellow famine was in his eyes. The wind-rocked shanty groaned and mut­ tered, but the dog slept. Suddenly, however, hegot up and shambled to the roadway. HP cast along glance from his hungry, desparing eyes in the di­ rection of the venerable house. The breeze came full to his nostrils. He threw back his head and crave a long, low howl and started intently up the road. Maybe he smelled a dead man. The group around the Are in the venerable house were listening and waiting. The atmosphereof the room was tense. The slate-colored man's face was twitching and his drabbed hands were gripped together. The little man was contiually looking be­ hind his chair. Upon the counte­ nance of the pudgy man appeared conceit for an approaching triumph over the little man, mingled with ap­ prehension foi* his own safety. Five pipes glowed as rivals of the timid candle. Profound silence drooped heavily over them. Finally the slate- colored man spoke. "My or uncle, Jim Crocker, he's sick ter death." The four men started and then shrank back in their chairs. "Damn it!" replied the little man, vaguely. Again there was a long silence. Suddenly it was broken by a wild cry from the room above. It was a shriek that struck upon them with appalling swiftness, like a ;'ash of lightning. The walls whirled and the floor rumbled. It brought the men to­ gether with a rush. They huddled in a heap and. stared at the white terror in each other's faces. The slate-colored man grasped a candle and flared it above his head. "The black dorg," he bowled, and plunged at the stairway. The maddened four men followed frantically, for it is better to be in the presence of the awful than only within hearing. Their ears still quivering with the shriek, they bounded through the hole in the ceiling and into the sick­ room. With quilti drawn closely to his i shrunken breast for a shield, bis bony j hand gripping the cover, an old man ; lay. with glazing eves fixed on the 1 open window. His throat gurgled and a froth appeared at his mouth. | From the outer darkne.-s came a i strange, unnatural wail, burdened and each note It was the W" ¥:M- ; fcc'v Vv fe- iK. 'Tftiuk he'll die?" asked the pudgy [ gently. » *.'He won't die! fig's an 61' man. ^ut he won't die yit! . The black dorg •Ain't been around yit!*' 'The black dog"' said the little map, feebly. He struggled with him­ self for a moment. . .'.'What's the black dog?" he asked attest < "He's a s^erriV' said the slate- colored man in a voice of somber hue. • .'"Oh, he is? Well?" ' . /"He hunts these parts, he does, an' when people aregoin' to die he comes |M!d sets and howls." ; ••Ho," said the little man. He looked out of the window and saw ! filght making a million shadows. ^7 v The little man moved his legs ner­ vously. . 4"l don't lielieve in these things," eaid he, addresitng the slate-colored «aao, who was scutHiqif with a side of feork. ' "Wot things?-' came incoherently ftest the combatant "Oh, these--er--phantoms and ghosts and what not. All rot, I say." "That's because you have merely a •tpniach and n > soul,' grunted the {pudgy man. Vllo, :$d pudgkins!" replied the lit­ tle man. H.s back curved with filled with foreboding. song of the spectral dog. "God!" screamed the little man. He ran to the open window. He could see nothinv at tlr.->t save the pine trees, ensia*ed in a furious com­ bat, tossing back ami forth and strug­ gling, The moon was peeping cauti­ ously over the rims of some black clouds. But the chant of the phan­ tom guided the little man's eyes, and he at length perceived its shadowy form on the ground under the win­ dow. He fell away gasping at the sight. The pudgy man crout hed in a Corner, chattering insanely. The slate-colored man. in his fear, crooked his legs and looked like a hideous Chinese idol. The man upon the bed was turned to stone, save the froth, which pulsated. In the tlnal struggle terror will tight the inevitable. The Uttle man roared maniacal curses, and rushing again to tbe window began to throw various articles at the spectra A mug, a plate, a knife, a fork, all crashed or clanged on the ground But the song of the spectre continued. The bowl of beef-tea followed. As it struck the ground the phantom ceased its cry. J The men in the chamber sank j limply against the walls, with the | unearthly wail still ringing in their I ears and tbe fear unfaded from their j eyes. They waited again. The little man felt his nerves vi- • brate. Destruction was better than | another wait. He grasjfed a candle j and going to a window, held it over j his head and looked out. ' j "Ho!" he said i His companions crawled to the Farmer UMI Kalth 8nl ttl* Cy- olons Came » usMlto Same. It was in Western Kansas. Just at sundown of a summer's day I rode up to a house whtoh stood on the prai­ rie, ten mile^ from anywhere, says ^ writer in the N<>w .York Recorder. A lank, hungryrlooking man stood in the door, and when 1 asked if 1 could put up there for the night he thought itover for a minuteanfd then replied^- "It'll crowd things purty clus,' bat I guess you kin stop." , ' Hid house was only one M»ry . and one room, and.he had a wife and five children. It was a very slim supper we sat down to, and the family were evidently very poor. The man seemed to think some explanation necessary, and after supper he remarked:--' "The fact is, stranger, we haven't had a fair show out here^ , v," J i-,, "Sickness?" < Vr "Some sickness, but n0t.en0M*h t0 discourage." -i ^ > r ̂ • •Grasshoppers?^, : •Some few, but htt ft'p them 'era infernal cyclones that knocks tbe tar out o' us around hetfe.* 'Joseph, don't you swear!" chided the wife, as she boxed two ot< the children's ears. Who's a=swearfn*? I'm jest s=ssy- in1 that if it wasn't fur thera gaol durned, infernal, cantankerous, thun­ der aud blazes cyclones a-whoopin' it up every summer, we might git a bushel of taters ahead now and then!" ^. Irith a mile to seo a man toolmJfc|£iM had ilepped out of a bond-l»t, hit clothe* nicely brushed, and everything about him indicating refinement?" "Yes, Mr. Calloway, j do," an* swered Miss Twilling, with a sign id­ ea nt look." ,"i like to see such a man as you have described about once a year." •. • - paid passion. A tempest of wrath was in window and peered out with him. the pudgy man's eye. The final epi- "He's eaten' the beef-tea," said the slate-colored man, faintly. 'The damn dog was hungry, the pudgy man. / ^ "There's your phantom," saill the little man to the pudgy man. On the bed the old man lay dead. Without, the 8[>e tre was wagging its taiL--N. Y. Tribune. thet used hy the little man was a •carefully studied insult, always ferought forth at a crisis. They quar­ reled. "All right, pudgkins, bring on your gbantom," cried the little man in conclusion. ' His stout companion's wrath was too huge tfur words. The little man •miled triumphantly. He had staked Ate opponent's reputation. sUeat. AFTER a man has l>ecn refused by girl, he goes around looking like a "Do they occur every season?" l asked. They do. They don't occur all over the State, but they do right here. They're got up for my especial benefit--Just a hundred rods wide, so's to rake my farm lengthwise. Durn my old butes! but I'm a-gittin' tired of 'em!" "Joseph, how dare you complain of the Lord's doin's!" exclaimed the wife, as she gave the squalling baby a shake that nearly broke its neck. 'If the Lord is a flingin' them cy­ clones at me, then I'te a right to com­ plain!" he answered. "This is our third house in three years. The other two are scattered all over America. We've lost crops and cattle and pigs and hens, and 'twon't take more'n one more cyclone to make a mighty home­ sick man of ma" "Joseph, the Lord hears you?* < 'Can't help it if he does. Pill glt- tin' powerfully discouraged over sich bizness." "I say to you to put your trusty in the Lord!" she exclaimed. "You haven't fully done it, or we wouldn't hev had them cyclones. Shouldn't he do it stranger?" ? , "I think so." , "Of course he should, but he's bin stiff necked about it and. brung ca­ lamities on this family;'!' . ; "Well, I hjev bin a leetle mulish, I guess." said Joseph, 1 "bflt I'll qttlt right off and go to triistio'.V' , • We went to bed soon after* and -it was just at aaylight that I was awak- eired by tho man getting ujp and look­ ing out doors and saying: to his wife: "1 can't Say for sure, but I guess you'd better git them young 'uns into the dugout. Dod rot my hide but it would be just my luck." She roused up the children and left by the back door, and the husband went with thefti. I got up off the floor, where I was sleepinsr, and was just pulling on my clothes when he ctfme rushing in. "Is anything the matter?" I asked. "I should somewhat insinuate that there be!" he excitedly exclaimed. 'There's a gaul durned cyclone gittln' ready for bizness down thar, toward EUiworth, and you can't git into our hole in the ground any too fast!" H«Whad constructed a rude outdoor cell-r against the * hill behind the house, and I follow him and crowded in. He stood by the door a moment to watch the storm, and When tie en­ tered he growled out: "She's a-comin' head fust .in this direction, and jest exactly 400 rods wide to an inch!" She came. She came with a roar and shriek, and with such force as to tear up the grass by the roots. In three minutes It had passed atod the farmer and I crept out The house was not to be seen, while chicken- coop and pig-pen and sod-stable had vanished and' leiffc no trace behind. We stood gazing about us in .siloiiCiJ, when the wife called outi ' '> '< 6 •«' "Joseph, has she passM?'*;?;, " S h e . h a s . " • i . t "And didn't I tell you to trust in the Lord?" "You did: and now you. crawl ti,p and see what trust)n' the Lord in the State of Kansas amounts to! Dam my good-fur-nothin' old hide but this is the last straw, and we start back for Illinoy inside of an hour!" Origin or Butterflies, And old story tells that when Jupi­ ter and Juno were married the wed­ ding was celebrated with great splen­ dor.. . A feast was given, to which all the gods were invited. Many princes and. tine nobles from the earth were also invited. Amontr the rest came a Persian prince, named Chrysalus. He was "rich in golden attire, in gay robes and with a ma';estical presence." He was attended by a train of gorgeously dressed followers, lords and knights and fine gentlemen. But with all his state and riches, Chrysalus was but a foolish fellow, with an empty head and a silly speech. And it is very likely that the ostentatious parade of his rank and possessions only served to make the fact of his lack of wit more apparent and more absurd. Seeing a prince come in such pomlp and state, all the gods rose to do him honor. They hastened to give him a lofty seat, and' to welcome him in their midst: but Jupiter, who was no doubt a man ef tine perceptions, no sooner looked at him than he • "per­ ceived that he wasalight^phantastic. idle fellow." In his wr^t i thatjsuch a man should be found in, such a high place, Jupiter suddenly turned him and ail his proud followers into butterfles, and condemned them to rove about forever 'aihcAitig ttfeftt- selves, but fullfilling no good pur­ pose. i MM Fixed The Time. "Be careful how you accept gen­ eral invitations," say the wise people ot the world. There is a kind of spe­ cific invitation about which most men would need no such warning. "Miss Twilling,,' said Mr. Oallo* waF, dawSWIOM ' NenralffU *>* »b* Toe. ^ A neuralgic pain, more or "m Se­ vere, at the base bf the fourth toe is not uncommon, but has attracted medi- | cal attention only within recent years, i Dr. Morcon of Philadelphia, in 1876 was the first to describe it, and to re- port a number of cases. He had him. self suffered greatly from it. The attacks always came on sud­ denly. He was often obliged to re- move his boot, sometimes when walk­ ing in the street, sometimes when riding in his carriage, and sometimes even when in company. When on horseback he has been compelled to dismount, tie his horse to a tree, and lie on the grass, unable to proceed further. He found the affection much more frpquent in Women than in men--a result, no doubt, of the greater deli­ cacy of women's feet and of their wearing tight shoea Dr. Bradford, to whose paper ou the subject, read before the Suffolk Medical Society, we are indebted for our facts, says that hisown investiga­ tions in respect to this ailment ac­ cord exactly with those of Dr. Mor­ ton; that the symptoms were the Same, and the proportion of male and female patients about the same; One of Dr. Brad ford's cases was that of a young lady obliged to stand all day. She was in excellent health, but for years had suffered from pain in her right foot, radiating from the base of the fourth toe. He? shoes were made with great care, -but she suffered all the time, and sometimes the pain was so intolerable that she would willingly have submitted to a surgical operation for relief. She was relieved by treatment and properly constructed shoes. The following is, in brief, an ex­ planation of this "metatarsal neu­ ralgia," or "Morton's affection of the foot" The base of the fifth, or lit­ tle, toe is in a line with the neck of the fourth toe's corresponding joint, and by becoming pressed against the nerves of the latter, it irritates and inflames them. The pain which results is msome- times only of a dull character, but sometimes is severe and throbbing, and may extend above the ankle. As in other neuralgia pains, there is no inflamation to be seen nor any swel> ling. In «dost cases, protracted rest and the use for a while of quite broad- soled shoes will effect a cure; but sometimes the excision ot the head of the fourth metatarsal bona is sary.--Youth's Companion. •..•'•Y.W- A Neat Swindle. It has been stated by P. T. Bar- num's admirers that his success in the show business is due to the fact that the American people like to be hum­ bugged. That may be the fact, and it is cer­ tain that there was a "sell" perpetra­ ted in Chicago which was heartily en­ joyed by the victims. "It was back in the sixties/' says an old resident, "whfen the populace was startled by the lavish display upon dead walls and curbstones of a •guttersnipe,' bearing the announce­ ment, 'He is coming.' That was all. Who 'he' was, or when 'he' was 'com­ ing' was nowhere stated. "One Sunday tuorning the newspa­ pers heralded the fact that 'He is here,' and again the dead walls and curbstones took up the cry and told the same thing. Fronrtbe announce­ ment it appeared that 'he'was a •mysterious wonder,' who Would give marvelous exhibitions that nipbt at Brvan Hall. "The sensation created by the an­ nouncements. 'He is comih^' and 'He is here,' attracted a great crowd to. the hall that night, and the tfdtent of the singular advertiser was eagerly watched for. • "At last the hall was filled with paying people, and the window of the box office was closedt a bell, rang and up went the curtain. "All that could be seen Was a big sign, reading'He is gone.' And he was, too. and with all the money; but the victims enjoyed it" Only One. . ' Si, "There was once a little girl--and the only reason there is none such now is that she has trrown a big girl --who talked of everything in the plural. Especially was she likely, at the table,4 -sk for "forxs," '*spoons" or potatoes," when it was but one of the articles she really desired. One day her papa said to her at dinner, "K itty, don't ask'for biscuits. Say, 'Please give me a biscuit' You don't want more than one at a time." "No, papa," was the dutiful an­ swer; but presently came the request: "Please may I have some rolls?" "A roll," corrected her father, and she repeated the words carefully. Thfen all went weil until the cheese was handed round, and this Kitty was not usually allowed to eat. Yet she delighted in it, and realized that her success in obtaining a bit might be determined by her manner of ask­ ing for it Leaning forward, she said anxiously, in a soft, sweet voice: "Papa, will you please give me a chee?" Backward Kj-ea. An ingenious inventor has discov­ ered a means for providing "eyes in the back of the head." No longer will the Schoolboy lie able to indulge in his pranks when the master has turned his head, for by means of the new in­ vention the master will be able to ob­ serve what goes on behind his back, and punishment sure and swift wlU overtake the offender. This new op­ tical iustrument, which performs this extraordinary feat, consists of a new kind of spectacles, on each bluish glass of which a small round reflector or mirror is fixed, which enables the wearer to watch -- without turning round--the featuWs 4f those behina- him as plainly as though he had a pair of eyes in the ba£k ol his head. They do not Impede forward vision, nor can they be distinguished from ordinary spectacles. tiri • MAN can learn more in one day's trouble than he can ta a y*ar of joy. An Okl Stager Whose Coolness (tetwl the tigers. • The heroism and bravery of Robert JSmery Is an example to every school­ boy in Nebraska to-day. Gage County has the honor cf being his home and Beatrice his abiding-place, says the Omaha Bee. • In 1884 Tiobert Emery was a stage driver along the St Joe ant) Denver route. In August of that year oc­ curred the great Indian raid, when so many settlers lost their lives. There were nine passengers in the coach-- seven men and two ladies. Although exceedingly dangerous, he offered to drive to Liberty farm, where his brother Charles lived. The morn­ ing of August 9, 1864, was beautiful. The sky was clear and a cool, refreshing breeze came up from the northwest The Coach left the station of the Big Sandy with Its freight of human lives drawn by four large and mettled steeds, in which the driver had unbounded confidence and over them perfect control. The journey was without accident, or un­ usual incident until about 11 o'clock, up to which time no signs of Indians had been seen. But just as the lead horses had passed over the hill and were on a spur that led into the bot­ tom land or valley--this was narrow and bordered on either side by deep ravines, worn by the water--and be­ fore the coach had commenced the descent the driver discovered a band of Indians about thirty rods in ad­ vance. He wheeled the horses in an instant--two rods farther on he could not have accomplished the turn--and, laying the whip to their backs, com­ menced an impetuous retreat The passengers were terrified and were at once on their feet. £mery said: "If you value your lives, for God's sake j keep your seats " The Indians, about fifty in number gave chase with their terrifying yell, and for about three miles, which were accomplished in about twelve minutes, pursued and pursuers made the most desperate efforts at speed. The savage yells of those bloodthirsty villains and the wails of despair of the men and women are past the power of pen to describe. . But to the glory of the driver be it said that he was the only steady-nerved and un- excited person in this memorable chase. The coach bristled with ar­ rows, "like quills upon the fretful porcupine;" They grazed voung Emery on every side and cut the tarett off the head of the wheel horse, but the young man heeded nothing but his driving. There are two points at \vhich all would h ive been lost but for the driver's wonderful presence Of mind. These were two abrupt turns in the road where the coach would have been thrown over had he not brought . . . . . _ , A , - . m o r e j o y f u l l y r e s p o n d . S h e i s t h e the team to a halt and turned with^ steady light of her father's house. care. This he did, to the dismay of some of the passengers, who saw es­ cape only in speed, but their subse­ quent praise of his conduct was as great as his courage was cool and cal­ culating. George Constable, who was conducting an ox train over the route, saw the coach about a mile ahead and at once corraled his twen­ ty-five wagons. The brave driver drove his nine passengers into this shelter and safety. Words could not express the gratitude felt for their hero and deliverer. In the delirium of their delight they embraced aud kissed him and thanked God that he had held the lines, and that they were in a position where they could not interfere. The noble steeds were not forgotten. The passengers pet­ ted them and cast their arms about their necks .with feelings of grateful emotion. This memorable drive would never be forgotten, though not recorded here, for the story would be handed down to posterity by the successive genera­ tions of the saved. The hero of that day's chase won not his best laurels in that hour, for wherever he was known his gentle manner and kind leeds won for him a welcome in avery heart Devoid of boastful pre­ tense, he wore meekly his well-de- jeryed honors, and silently carried a hero's heart. His health was frail ind in about a year he was prostrated with fever, and while upon his death­ bed, yet still conscious, Mrs. Ban- iolph, one of the number* he saved from a horrible death, placed upon his finger a beautiful gold ring, upon which was engraved the following: "E. Umphrey. G. C Randolph and Hattie P. Randolph to Robort Emery, In acknowledgment of what we owe to his cool conduct and good driving Tuesday, Aug. 9, 1864." Soon after this he passed away from these scenes of warfare to the silent and peaceful realm of the dead. The doctor who attended him in his last hpurs eulo­ gized him as a silent hero and one of the noblest of mankind. ate te&ihtitefc ami' the* are all i ticently upholstftisdl The librafpear, for instance, is basil with globelhi tapestry, and the diNkw> ing-room Is furnished entirely in white satin. Two of the Carriages are for the sole use of the £mpefor'§ Qhildren and thcJr nurses. ^, v- Her gpeeeh.' • •' Sarah Japhet Saunders had a way of winding herself up in her own flow of language until her ideas became somewhat con fused. She was called Sarah Japhet because her husband's cousin, "Jeems" Saunders, had also married a Sarah, and the two families lived in the same town. One after­ noon a neighbor of Sarah Japhetfs was giving an account of a recent picnic to an elderly female who had 'been kept at home by "rheumatiz." "Scroggin's Glen was well enough," she said, in reply to some question of the invalid, "but folks need t* be pooty sure-footed b'fore they go scram blin' up an' down them peaked rocks. As for me, I was thankful tb' days when sech gymnastics was ex- expected of me was well over with. But I wish't you e'd *ve been there t' partake of th' spread, an' t' heqr Sarah Japhet's speech. She fa'rly outdone herself!" "I want t' Hnow! What did she say in partic'larK? "Oh, she saida\power o' things, but th' best of all was what she said 'bout them little oily fish-sardines, they call 'em, but they aint nothiu' but hcrrin', pickled over some way-- that those city folks that's boardiu' over t' th' Emmons's took along t' th' picnic. "Most of us liked 'em fa'rly well; there was an extry large supply of 'em, so we didn't feel t'hesitate*bout eatin' 'em. But Sarah Japhet, some way or 'nother, couldn't seem t' relish 'em. If she'd kep' mum, 'twould've been all right 'nough; more'n likely folks wouldn't 've noticed whether she eat 'em ornot; but what what d' you s'pose she done? "She stepped oner t' one o' th' boarders, a kind of a toppln' young woman, an' says she, 'I feel t' say I'm real glad I don't set muce by them little fish you folks fetched, fer if I did, I sn'd feel called upon t' eat 'em, an' that would be kind o' disagreeable to. me, seein' I don't relish 'em!' •'An' then she set down again, as pleased as pie. But I calc'late that boarder didn't get her bearin's ajjain, fer some minutes; an' I reckoh if she was'u pass any opinion on Sarah Japhet, she'd put her down fer scat­ ter-witted.'^ A Good Daughter. There are other minister! of love more conspicuous than a good daugh­ ter, but none m which a gentler, lovelier spirit dwells, and none to which the heart's warm requitals The Deacon's Wooing. Deacon Sharp, who lives in the Buckeye Valley, has never married. He made the attempt once, but his humility and piety worked against him. He was the same long sol em n- visaged chap then that he is now, with what is known as a "gift of prayer." In season and out of sea­ son he was ready at any moment to flop down on his knees and tell all he knew of spiritual grace. Tnere were thesfe who said he liked to hear him­ self talk. On this occasion he asked Jenny Price to be his partner for life, and Jenny, who was a prime little school teacher, consented. Then the deacon flopped. He be­ gan in his usual strain by invoking forgiveness for his sins. He was everything that was vile and as he enumerated the crimes laid down in hisown imagination, Jenny began tJo fidget. At last she touched the dea­ con on the shoulder: * "You needn't pray any more on my account" she said. "I wouldn't think of marrying such a wicked sin­ ner. If you are only half as bad as, you say you are, I wouldn't have you.! I hope you will repent before it is too late." And she left the astonished deacon to his own reflections upon matri­ mony and grace.--Free Press. The German Imperial Train. The German Emperor's imperial train cost altogether $750,000. Its con­ struction occupied three years, and is a very elaborate example of railroad luxury. There are twelve carriages, *U connected bf 4<corridor%M which unduly deprived. Her idea is indissolubly connected with that of his happy fireside. She is the morning sun and evening star. The grace, vivacity, and tenderness of her sex have their place in the mighty sway which she holds over his spirit The lessons of re- corded wisdom which he reads with her eyes comes to his mind with a new charm, as blended with the beloved melody of her voice. He scarcely knows weariness which her song does not make him forget, or gloom which is proof against the young brightness of her smile. She is the pride and ornament of his hospitality and the gentle nurse of his sickness, and the constant agent of those name­ less, numberless acts of kindness which one chiefly cares to have ren­ dered because thev are unpretending but expressive proofs of love. • » Disease at the Baek Door. Yes, it is the nasty habit of pitch­ ing out of the back door a pailful and dipful, now and then,of greasy water, and a handful of parings and the gen­ eral waste of the kitchen, which breeds fevers and billious diseases. Tbe waste d isappears for the most part in the soil, but that is the key to the mischief. The soil gets full, after a time, and ferments and the hot siin breeds gases which surrqund and enter the house. This is true not only of the cheaper, poorer houses and care­ less families; but well-to-do, intelli­ gent people have spots behind their houses saturated with slops. In populous towns no amount of super­ vision can prevent a great deal of filthy evil; but in the country towns slops should be carried out to trees, and poured in small quantities here and there as a fertilizer: Trees will take up a large quantity of water, and be grateful for it There must be simply constant intelligence in the disposal of waste.--Farm Life. In Japan. Jap fashion 's so much followed that this hint as to what the Japs think the correct thing may be worth following in Belgravia. An invita­ tion to dinner among the upper classes of Japs frequently commences about as follows: "I beg pardon for thus, insulting you in begtring your company at my house to dinner. The house is small and very dirty. Our habits are rude, and you may not get anything fit to cat; and yet i hope that you will condescend to be pres­ ent with us at 6 o'clock on the 9th of December." Upon arriving at the house you will find it spotlessly clean, tasteful in arrangement, and the host and hostess affable indeed. The bill of fare consists ot ten or fifteen courses, the best the market can af­ ford. All the self-humiliation of the host is the method adoptgd to pay you honor. • . Laoky and Unlucky Plants. * The pear tree is in some parts of New Hampshire called witch-wood, and is occasionally carried in the pocket to keep off witches. In Nova Scotia it is thought that it is a cause of bad luck to keep in the house common begonia, called beef-steak geranium. In Salem and Boston it is thought unlucky to keep "Wan­ dering THE warmth and moisture of the soil are increased by the organic mat­ ter in it and acids formed by the de­ cay of vegetable matter are all 1m* portant in dissolving the mineral matter which forms the food of plants. It is the key to the treasures of the soil, and If farm-yard manure or com­ posts or othersubstance rich in organic matter are not put on the cultivated land, or fed ou it, the soil becomes Will something . as fte*. and in- ma-" do wood«*» In making .. d»rl$^.4Mltset4t. Get twfr squares of ifflk nfcfil, otf If yott can't find that, aJBtteriie^natiV or al­ most any othter fiajitoiNi thin material. There are eight rite to the aiserage parasol; and two squares exactly in handkercbief shape. so placed that one point comes mid­ way of the side of the other, will just cover the parasol. Lay theseequares over the frame and attach the points very lightly. If carefully done, « pi a will hold them until properly ar­ ranged. Then cut a small hole in the middle of each section; through this the tip of the stick is to be passed, the circle, or rim, around it having been previously removed, which is easily done by taking, out the little rivet that holds it to the. wood. Oiit of the material that, comes off* at the sides w ben ̂ the squares are cut make a tiny puff: , , . Put this around the tip and put the little rim back in place. The edges of' the fiaaterial mayt>e hummed or turned iu and covered by a ruffle of lace. If desired, a lining may be put in. To do this, it is well to hiye a pattern taken from the cover as it originally wa9 on the parasol. While it is considered quite an un­ dertaking to cover a parasol nicely, it is by no means the formidable task that many people seem to think. What is required is exceeding care and neatness and a very close atten­ tion to the minor details of the jobu Once having tried vheexperiment*the careful needlewoman will experience but little ditHculty in doinc a good piece of work. A hit of crepe de Chine, crepe lisse or other material costs but little, and will make avery handsome finish to any one of the score of old frames, many of them with really elegant handles, which may be found in almost any of the store-closets or wardrolies in the coun­ try, and which are, as a general thing, thrown aside as absolutely worthless. Fine work is by no means a monop­ oly; and, while there is a certain hand­ ling, which may be called "style," in the putting up of these goods, the neatness which Is required to do a first-class job may be acqaircd by al­ most anybody. A trimming of lace, plaiting, ruching and putting, indeed, garniture of any sort which is made of material, can readily be arranged by any lady of ingenuity; and as there Is in many families a greater amount of good taste and wit than money, it is well for the wives and daughters to realize that they can, with but trifling cost, supply themselves, not only with parasols, hut with many other beauti fill (hingi. ? '7'" A ChUd'i ladAaemw.^;Vs- % • At a certain livery stable in this cUty the men Were so loud and pro- fane in their ebnversation that they were freqnentlv complained Of to the "boss," who threatened to discharge them,one &nfl all, if they did not re­ form. • „ • . They listened to him respectfully, but went on swearing right and left, quarreling and wrangling atnong tnemselves all the time they were grooming customers' horses, or harp nessing teams within earshot of the public. But of a sudden all this stopped The man who had been the loudest and most profane swearer went abdut his work as still as a mouse. All the men spoke pleasantly Jo each other, and not a loud or violent word dis­ turbed the serene ̂ lr. It was as if a miracle had happened. • ? > "You men have turned over.a new leaf," said the proprietorof the stable, "what has caused tho change? ;Tou used to swear by thcnr-" • '• "H-u^h*; to&i'.' ttt%man Mar* est to wi flbti't Want Mr to know," ' v ' He looked up and .saw a little face at a window--the f&ee of a delicate child, whom he now remembered to have seea pldyiugi-.lately jabout the stable; ? "It's Jim's kid.. Her inothejf is dead, and wejve fcaketi „ h# t© help fetch up for Jite.i SIIWJ a t|ght jBjice little thing; am$ she thinks her ;jpap is just hunky, and we don't 'low her to get wi«d. or any» wrong-doin', ind if enny man uses a swearword before her we'll break his--gosh, I nearly done it Well, we're all just a bustin' with meanness, but it's got to stay there, 'cause, you see, Nelly's a real little lady." "I see," said the liveryman, good- humoredly, "that Nellie is going to be a missionary round herei and keep all you fellows straight" And the little face at the window smiled down on them, and Nellie was happy because they were "pap's" friends. • * Obeying Orders. . jfni, q , who had kept Frehch servants, decided that they were too wise and witty for such employment, and engaged a German instead, who was recommended as being a young man who would obey orders to the letter, and make no remarks what­ ever about them. , One day Mrs. Q--- came down­ stairs in a great hun-y, and said to Johann, who waswaiting meekly In the hall: "I am in a great hurry to get down town. I want you to go right out and bring to the door the very first carriage you come across." Mrs. Q meant, of coarse, the first public carriage, but she did not 6ay so. In a few moments JohanfB came back, and bowed Mrs. Q to the door. She went out and foiioi awaiting her there--a hearse! - ' t m r,t ~ ' .4 v . " *yi ^'4^; CJ'j 7 " '•> X "K ' A ? .-P r.i •i-:; An t'nkllici Reply. Hfife--You may ble*s your stars fer the*way I mend and care for youtf clothing. What in the world would, you do without me? <« Husband--If I didn't have to pay yqur millinery bills I could spend that mbney on new clothes for myself, and thjen I wouldn't have to wear patent clothes at all.--Texas Sittings. - <•?:£ gljj " 'AM THIS is the way men love; give .a peasant a fortune, and he will discard his peasant sweetheart and look around for a princess to spend, it on. WHEN an idle man wants some­ thing to do, he goes around tacking up signs in his office that read. "Thi* **i to my busy day." ? < "K I ; '• ->r ; ;*V xfr.*.