. A.., ........ u. WiZUOVT ST, ami s. rnu WW.-'A' III j M y «V»»T- IV "T~ i.u.i|*jfj*p» I»ijijmj,^P HI iippepipi^sipppi S*'i /A , ,^ • 1>V>i fiei&jij •Ai , h . " « . % ixU^^I0 *V*<A ** -f 5 JaV U ^ .<»• 11 1 r4j??i ^ S.A. »•+*; 4 stood Tjesldn a pearly Stream, "C, »t|| W in ita lac" wSeoted, 1 saw a form most like my own, , s With countenance dejected; '••_ j^nd aa 1 looked and looked a*r»®f. 4 ** *0 Upon the linPs of sorrow, \ ' ,»"A even wished that I were dead, •:, And need not meet the luorrofc ,. s* .for hopes were crushed and ' "i Aii>l liioada liad proved unfaithful; 1 d I had grown to think of life - - rf'ith feelings almost wrathful; And aa I stood and uur»e<l my grief, And thought of all niy trouble, V Asd aiuaed on misplaced coufidsgos Twhich love had served to doupfcj : -*««: --• • ';;* hetrd a note of music shrill-- A song of life and gladnes*, 1 turned me from the flowing brook AJHI quite forgot my sadness ; fov as I looked 1 saw a youth, W*th face both bright and smifjlaf, ^' Ind this is what the mugex saagj,*' t Tho summer hours beguiling: «.v'lWOU. lei'us, aa we pass through Mi^ a«r Be aivays glad and cheery, f Xtjr though the hours be dark and oold, They cannot all be dreary. There's light and health and pleasant home, • tft'l'Add bonrs for rest ami slu?ul>ar, j .flnilliqg flowers in mossy bowers, ' "AniTbtowaiiigw without number. • <M And birds to eing in carols sweat ^..X-jThcir soog of happy measure, * Tfad when I think of these I feel -1*7% ivttrt even life's a treasure. 3Jnr <Sod who guards the sparrow's UIUIII ' H ^wili not neglect to guard us, _ l„Aad come what may, or come what will, He'll ever walk beside us. x'm content with what He sends, Nor stop to weigh my trouble, Tor when we dwell upon mroelves •«W^*'We always see them double." Tin here the singer passed from sight, v.-.-jBeytind the forest's shadow; at nature wore a brighter look ?iAs I recrossed the meadow. / "C0.» fmlirnf •»'•< • bo* .a*<' CfiAPTER L *• Dart, Maitland, Dart & Co." Qo the name stood upon the great plate ; and in these names had the business of the bank been prudently and profitably conducted for as many years m the majority of the inhabitants of Highborough could recall. Trade panics had laid waste many -another long-established firm; bank ruptcy had swooped unexpectedly upon SMtoy a hoaee where wealth had seemed aa limitless as here; but the bank of Messrs. Dart, Maitland, Dart & Co. Jtelffits head high above all treacherous #irter8, and stood unmoved and utterly d&tire after the heaviest gales had pift8S6Q« The name of the firm was a passport <o$ ^Oft and reliance, as well as a prompt introduction to the first society o! the <3rontry ; and the present representatives these ; Maurice Dart, the senior jlurtiier, a handsome man of 50 years, wbo imagined the wishes, the weaknesses and the hopes peculiar to other men could not move him now; and Walter Maitland, both in appearance and man ner, a strong contrast to his senior part- 1*07. Though but ten years younger, he looked nearer 30 than 40, and the frank- aafP of his blue eyes, and the gay words » prompt upon his lips, seemed doubly frank and doubly gay, contrasted with his senior's reticence and gravity. The third partner was one in name alone. His father's death had left him a rich share in the bank, but his only inter course with it was the polite periodical acknowledgment of its having swept away the debts which were the worst enemies he had had to fight since he entered the army. About 4ike 11 Oo." there was of course that vagueness which is inseparable from 5ie eegsonaen. In the outer world it was supposed that an unlimited number of people had invested their savings or their patrimony on purpose to be con sidered "of the firm." But among the •clerks 6nly one case was known with cer tainty. He was neither the oldest nor the most experienced, though the most fl^eerful, perhaps, and the most indus trious. He had deposited in the firm the sum which his father, through a iortj years' course of valued and profit able , managership, had accumulated to fceqefiMth to him; and so, being enabled to doaw what doubled his salary as clerk, Tom-.Leslie looked upon himself as a partner of no mean order, and built lofty Nasties for a time when his name should upon the brass plate otherwise thfestae "Co." Cheerfully and constant ly he erected these edifices; but to at- teiiipt to lay their foundations on terra %na, either by saving or speculating, iiever entered Tom's head. With hie liipt&j*--a little old lady, as hopeful and ^eerfuls>and trustful as he wsshijssclf lived in a pretty white cottage Beyond the town, and here he had flow- , all the year round, and birds, that in the gloomiest weather, and a pk®° on which he was no mean perform- • Q?«s«And»aB regularly as Saturday morn- : icame around Tonas taking his hat, woDid say in the most natural manner: *bi think we should like a couple of the ;ywager fellows out to dinner to-morrow -*«hoHidn't we, mother ? Their mlari<i not like mine, and things are dear, 3^00 say." il'fue, their salaries were not like his, vnt then he would not have the small, •bright house, nor the small, bright 'mother, denied any comfort he oould .Inlnk df, and so there was never one agactiy of Tom's salary left when the ywrr was up. ^tope or twice Mrs. Leslie would in- raefnlly where her son picked up th^dl^erless clerks whom he delighted to supper--or, as he ul- ways called it, "to a little music." But h** genial hospitality was, after all, as as his; and so, though she kept 'the Aoeounta, there was, as I said, never a penny of Tom's salary left when the jaarwasup. " He thinks that that £400 • iyear of his is a King's revenue" thought Mrs. Leslie, one Saturday norfcing, watching her son cross the load; drop his gift into the expectant luuud of the crossing-sweeper, and turn the oorner to nod to her. " He will soon expect me to adopt a few young salaries are less than his own. 31^8 Md, trat inherited his father's sav- iafe Aktnre !" She tned to regret this but, alter all, she oould not •help tli« warmth of perfect satisfaction JiJiiixj£ her eyes. ,'Opven nis practical father had rejoiced t]$$ hie nature was his mother's from the time that nature began to assert .itsftif .in little T#m--" Little Tom " then ;to Ms parents; " Little Tom Leslie" jUfter ward among his schoolfellows; •*'-Liitie IJ--lie " now among his fellow- tslerks. ^©E this particular Saturday morning, a# he walked to the bank, Tom loitered •little in one street--a quiet street of Mftdaome private houses, before one of wiiiek stood a couple of cabs piled with boxes. Tom wait^l long enough to be sure that the cabs bore nothing but luggage. Then he walked brisMy on, and, entering the bank excitedly, tola his fellow-clerks of the arrival of the Colonel's household; and for fully five minutes forgot, in his excitement, to add his genial invitation for the mot- ram. When the coming of the regiment had been discussed, he turned to his desk, not to loiter again throughout the day. •n hour afterward Mr. Dart drove up, and with a quiet "good morning!" passed through the bank to his own Srivate room. Here presently Mr. [aitland joined him, ana, standing be fore the fire, discussed various items of town news--among them, of course, the arrival of the regiment. " Col. Conyngharo has only one daugh ter. We must help to introduce her. Young Dart, having onoe belonged to the regiment gives it, as it were, a claim upon us."~ " The Colonel's daughter will need but little introduction," remarked Maurice Dart, quietly. CmPTEftlt "Dart, Maitland, Dart & Co." The names stood unaltered on the great plate; yet--except the sleeping partner, away in India now--ea<ili one represented by that sign was perfectly aware that a great alteration had been growing in himself ever since Col. Con- yngham and his daughter had been liv ing in Highborough* The strong bank walls no longer limited his hope and ambition. Beyond them stood revealed a home of love, and ease, and sunshine, brightly possible; and in this future the only mission of the good old bank Was to furnish the home with luxury. It was a winter night. The bank win dows were bolted and barred, the great books were locked away in the trusty safes, and the manager was asleep up stairs, with the loaded blunderbuss be side his bed. But in his brilliantly- lighted drawing-room at home, the sen ior partner sat alone--a striking-looking man in his evening dress, with the hot house flowers fading in his coat. The room had been filled with guests up to this t^me, but now Mr. Dart sat alone before the fire, buried in a thought which deepened minute by minute, un til the door was opened, and Walter Maitland re-entered the room he hud but lately left. "I could not help coming back," he said, beginning hurriedly to speak, as if the words forced themselves from him in his nervous haste. " There is one thing about which I must speak to you to-night--about which I have wanted to speak to you for a long time. I feel he was leaning against the chimney- piece opposite his friend, and looking with intense scrutiny into his quiet face--"that I have been dreaming a dream which a word of vours could at this moment dispel. Tell me if it is f.o. It will be a greater kindness than your silence, though the kindness is sure to be the motive of that. Tell me at once, Dart. It cannot be very pleasant to you to see my anxiety. You are far too good a fellow to feel pleasure in that." "What am I to tell you?" inquired Maurice Dart, without meeting his com panion's eyes. " Surely you know! I said to myself that when I met Isabel here in your house, to-night, I would find it out if my fears were well-grounded; and if I could not discover, I would ask you for the truth before I left Dart! end this wearing suspense for me. It has been growing through all these months side by side with my love, and has become unbearable at last!" Maurice raised his head now, and met his companion's anxious, questioning eyes. "I am glad you have spoken, Maitland 1" he said. " I have guessed at your anxiety, while I have felt my own; and I have often wished to break the silence we have held on this one point. I fancied you had something to tell me. I fancied so but now, when I saw you re-enter the room." "Indeed, not" exclaimed Walter, with his usual frankness. "I wish to heaven I had. I wish I dared to say that Isabel had given me encouragement enough to make mc even hope. And I could not ask her to--to love me whife I felt that yon knew how useless it would be." UI do not know," returned Dart--- his words sounding very slowly after Walter's eagerness, yet all his self-com mand failing to hide their new ring of hope. "Isabel has never heard a word of love from me. She is gentle and kind, and winning always; bat I cannot read beyond." " To me, too, she is bright and pleas ant always," put in Maitland, restlessly; " and I can discover nothing more. I fancied you could put me out of one phase of this uncertainty." "And you are very glad to find I can not," said the elder partner, And then their eves met, with a smile which was strangely wistful for such strong and manly faces. " Dart!" said Mr. Maitland, "you are the elder man--the richer--the better, too. You shall speak first. Do it as soon as you can." " Seniority has no claim in such a ease as this," said the senior partner. "We can wait." "I can wait no longer!" put in the younger man, impatiently, "Anything will be better than this suspense. Why on earth sh#uld we wait? Isabel knows us both thoroughly, now. She knows we are both too old for this love of ours to be anything but deeply earnest. She knows enough of us and of our position to make her decision easy to her. So let us know the worst, or--best. Yon have the right to speak first." "I will not take it!" said Mr. Dart, speaking more quickly than he had yet done. " Let us write. Let us write-- together." A few minutes silenoe, -while Walter thought this over--leaning his head on the arm which rested on the ehimney- piece. " Let that be decided," urged Maurice. "We will write to-morrow. Let her receive the two letters together, that she may think of us together. Promise me your letter shall be ready for to morrow's post." " 1 promise," said Maitland, raising his head again. " Thank you for this arrangement." CHAPTBB m. The fire roared and crackled cheerily in the private room at the bank, but neither of the partners had arrived. "I never knew him so late," remarked Tom Leslie, as if finishing aloud * pns- zling conjecture. •«Who ? Old Dart I" "Mr. Dart. Yes." " Leslie feels it incumbent on him to uphold the dimity of hifrpartners," put m another Cicik. "His breast swells proudly with a fellow-feeling." " What an idle set you are, this morn ing !" remarked Tom, turning from his desk with the quick, kindly smile which madeiiis face so pleasant to look upon. "As soon as I am senior partner I shall give you all a sweeping " The listeners laughed, enjoying the ab surdity of the idea; and one or two ques tioned him, with mock anxiety^ ss to the treat he intended to stand them on the oocasion. Through all the laughter Tom pursued his work, and Dart noticed this when he entered the bank: and though it was but very curtly that he answered Tom's quiet greeting yet be fore he reached the inner door he turned and spoke to him. " Cold outside, Leslie. Keep up good fires. It is hard," he muttered to nim- self, "to pass him without a word." Then Mr. Dart let the spring door close behind him, and, sitting down in his office chair, leaned on one arm only--as very calm men do when they are ill at ease, as well as tired. He was sitting so, looking moodily down into the fire, when Mr. Maitland entered the room. The senior partner did not turn to greet him; and, even when Walter stood upon the rug beside him, he did not venture to meet his eyes. "Maurice, began the younger w»"»( I suppose I may congratulate you. It is rather hard; yet no one ought to do it so heartily as I--I, who know what a good fellow you are, and what--what a wife you have won." A glance of surprise into his friend's face, and then Mr. Dart spoke innfew words, as was his custom: " She has refused me, Maitland." " Refused you!" Walter repeated the words, though not incredulously. Only truth, he knew, could have weighted them so sadly. "Shehas refused me, too!" he said. " She has never cared for me but as a Mend--simply and only as a friend." "In a few kind words to me," said Mr. Dart, without looking up, "she told me she had given her love elsewhere. I was trying, when you came in, to pre pare myself to tell you, * I rejoice in your happ'ness, Maitland.' Aid now you--you come and say the same to me." Buried in one long, sad thought, the partners in the good old firm sat in their silent room, while the work and pleasure of the world went on without. But the day's duties had to be gone through and these were not the men to fehun them selfishly. " I suppose we had better settle with Leslie about his holiday," remarked Mr. Maitland that afternoon, sending to summon Tom to the partners' room. He will lose every glimpse of summer if he waits longer." " He should not have postponed his holiday. He had his choice. Well, Leslie, when do you wish to start ?" in quired the senior partner, when Tom en tered the room. ' " You said about the middle of Octo ber, and this is the 20th." " Thank you, Mr. Dart; but if it would make no difference I would rather take my holiday from the 29th." " Then it is to be hoped you are going on a visit," remarked Walter Maitland, pleasantly; "for November days are not the pleasantest for a tourist." "lam not going on a tour, sir." Tom hesitated only a moment; then both his listeners were conscious of a new earn estness in his voice; "I should like to tell you, gentlemen, why I want my holiday then. The 29th is to be my wedding-day." Mr. Dart returned quietly to his writ ing. Mr. Maitland rose from his seat and moved to the fire, turning his back to Tom. Before the eyes of both the partners there hovered a face which had led them, too, to dream of a possible wedding-day--dreams from which they had so lately been awakened. It would oe hard, with these memo ries rising thick, to talk to their favor ite clerk of his good fortune ; yet it was not in Walter Maitland's nature to let any selfish feeling prevent him. "Indeed, Leslie!" he said, "I am surprised ; but very glad, of course, to hear it.' I prognosticate every happi ness for your wife. Of course I cannot do so for you until I know who she is." " You know her well, gentlemen, said Tom, flushing. " Her father, Col. Con- yngham, is my mother's cousin. We have rarely visited them except when they were alone, because--at my moth er's cottage, of course, we could not en tertain their guests. We have always been--aa old friends and relatives should be; and 1 have always loved Isabel. But it was necessary for us to wait a little. Though it would be difficult for you to realize the fact, gentlemen, a marriage is an expense, and debt " " You can gos Leslie," remarked Mr. Dart, without raising his head. " And the holiday, sir? " " TaH* your holiday when you choose; only don't make such a fuss about it/' " And is there nothing more you in tended to say to me, Mr. Maitland ? " inquired Tom. "I should say," remarked Walter, with a jealous anger in his eyes, "it is an irreparable mistake you are malting to marry on your income--unless you had chosen a wife in your own position and used to such a life as your mother's." "My mother's life was such a life as Isabel s, at Isabel's age," said Tom, and for a moment his face was re allv hand some in its flush of honest pride"; " and Isabel has known what my mother's life is for many a year past. Would I many her under any false pretenses ?" " I presume, then, that Miss Coayng- ham knows the extent of your income ? " asked Maitland, with compressed lips; " or have you, in your foolery, been rep resenting yourself as a partner in thm bank ? Her eyes are open to the folly of what she is doing, eh?" " She knows everything, sir," rejoined Tom, his eyes much puzsled, and a little angry ; " and she does not call it-folly." "You can go." The clerk left the room, do«inn the door quietly behind him. "They must have had haraannglet ters," he said to himself, trying to ao- count for the partners' impatience. " They have a good deal of anxiety which we subordinates are spared." And blinking this, he took his seat and wrote away more diligently than ever, while his lellow-clerks wondered over his mood. " Leslie ought to go." v Those were the words whtoh l»t last broke the silenoe at the room which Tom had left. "Yes." Then the day's work went on to its close, and the partners, separating on the bank steps, went their several ways thinking very longingly of one to whom both had been faithful. This was the first, night for many months which either had spent without these bright, vague dreams of hi* home mieht be with Isabel at its head; and their hearts were filled with resentment against the winner of the prize which they had coveted, "You knew this morning that she was to marry some one else--why should your thoughts be harder now that you know who has won her?" So a voice seemed arguing with them, but below all the angry thoughts surged on. " For him to be the one to gain her-- he, a paid servant in the bank 1" CHAPTER IV. When Mr. Dart reached the bank next morning, worn and harassed after his sleepless night, he found that Maitland, contrary to his usual custom, had arrived before him. Though the two friends greeted each other as usual, a most un usual silence settled presently upon them both. Eventually the senior partner, making an effort, remarked on the cold ness of the weather; and his companion, putting down a letter which he held, an swered leisurely. But his pleasant blue eyes were restless and rather dim, and the moment the answer was given the silence wrapped them both once more. For an hour the office clock had ticked a solo in the quietness, when Walter Maitland rose slowly from his chair, with the Times unfolded in his hand, and, letting the paper fall, came and stood upon the rug beside his friend, who had just re-entered from the bank. Very gently he laid his hand upon his senior's shoulder. " Dart, old friend! I want to speak a few words to you in great earnestness. Since we met yesterday morning, I have grown to feel quite certain of one thing --quite. The time has not in reality been very long, but it seemed so, and gave me plenty of opportunity for thought; and what I have grown to feel so sure of is this: I shall never marry now." " Nor I," replied Maurice, meaning it as men do not often mean the phrase, though they utter it as firmly. " I--fancied not. Now we are both wealthy men, Dart," continued Walter, bravely and gently, "and this wealth we offered, a day or two ago, to Isabel Conyngham. You guess what I am go ing to sav ? Shall she benefit by our-- love for her ?" The senior partner looked up slowly, questioningly. A thought, which had been haunting him all night, made the full meaning of these words quite plain to him. " Yes, I see you have felt this," re sumed Walter, quietly, " just as I have felt it. I see that my words only came as an ending to your thought. I under stand how it put itself to you. Leslie has invested all his father's savings--all hiB patrimony, as one may say--in our bank, and spends his whole days here most conscientiously, mosttrustworthily. All he draws for this cannot keep a house which we--you and I--like to picture as Isabel's home. And then his mother has to be provided for. You think, Dart, that it would not hurt us and could not make any difference to Capt. Dart, who has no voice in any bank matters-- if Leslie had power to draw what would keep them more comfortably. In short --in short, old fellow! you would him equal partner with me." "With ourselves," said Mr. Dart, shortly--" with ourselves, you mean ? If we were all equal partners-- "Let us discuss it this afternoon. Think it over till then, Maurice," put in Walter, feeling that the senior partner should have time to make his decision; " we will talk it over again." The discussion was duly held that afternoon, in the partners' private room; then Tom was summoned to hear the re sult of it. Though not a long interview, it was one impossible to describe--for how could any words show the utter failure of Mr. Dart's effort to maintain his grave reserve through Tom's extrav agant, boyish, humble, proud, ridiculous gratitude ? _ Or describe Walter Mait land's persistent (though always disre garded) assurance that, as Mr. Dart had decided to make this arrangement, he was very glad to accede to it? And, after that interview, who could repeat the limitless promises Tom made to his fellow-clerks when he told them of his marriage ? Or tell how he reached home in half his usual time, and put his arms wound his mother, with his eyes full of tears--just as if he had been 13, instead of 80? But, above all, who oould describe Isabel's mute, wondering gratitude to the two men whom she had given such pain? "I am very, very grateful, Tom," she said appealing to him, with tears thick upon her lashes; "but I would rather not talk about it--yet. Left me have time to think of it." Quick to understand her wish, and del icate in carrying it out, Tom left Isabel, delighted that his news had moved her so, yet wondering over it a little, too-- because the secret of the partners was so safe'in the keeping of the girl whom they had--not unworthily--loved. But hardest of all would it be to describe how brilliantly before Tom's eyes that night there came a vision of that identi cal brass plate which really met him face to face when, after his "holidavs," he first reached the heavy, familiar doors of the Highborough Bank-- "Dart, Maitland, Dart k Leslie." " Co." was no more. A Practical Test. A Boston gentlemHn of some literacy pretensions recently told an acquaintance in this city the following story, illustra tive of Wie alleged discrimination of magazine editors in favor of contributors of note, and vice versa: He was dis coursing me months sinoe, he said, to the poet, Low» lls on this topic, and in sisted that oooliibutions to magazines wexe not published for their merit, but only when they wen from friends of the editor or were the productions of famous pens. Lowell, on the contrary, main tained that magazine, like newspaper editors, were no respecters of person, and that they were entirely Impartial in their choice of contributions. To prove his case he wrote a short poem, on which, it is to be presumed, under the circum stances, lie bestowed more than usual, pain*, which his friend sent to a promi nent Boston magazine as his own. It w^a returned as unworthy erf publication. The South American States* The condition of the South American continent, taken as a whole, is not a satisfactory one, whatever way we view it. Politically, it is split up into a num ber of separate states, few of which pos sess any real political vitality, and nearly all of which are too poor to obtain any stable position as traders among the na tions of the world. The same dominance of the soldiery which has nearly de stroyed Old Spain has helped to prevent hitherto the development of most of those offshoots from her which form the states of Central and South America. There is, to all appearance, an absence of the capacity for oreating solidly-based civil institutions in the Spanish race, and, although these Spanish colonies have all thrown off the yoke of the mother country, they have made next to no progress in the art of self-govern ment. Not one of them all can show an orderly, well-knit system of authority, such as Prescott, for instance, says--no doubt with exaggeration--the Incas of Peru or the Aztecs of Mexico possessed. The Spaniard of America is civilly a de graded being, through the superstitions which have so long molded the quality of his mind, and the mixed races and natives whom he has called into being or subdued have never risen to the position of the peaceful, order-loving citizens of free states. Therefore we find continual wars going on, brigandage and murder rife, in even the most promising of the states, and an absen.ee of any progress worthy of the name in every Spanish re public save one. Public offioes are filled through corruption, and integrity and fair dealing are qualities almost un known. When contrasted with the United States, the utter backwardness of all South American states comes with startling force on the mind of the politi cal student. The very beginnings of life which society evinces there serve but to suggest, as it were, the corruption which makes one almost despair of these states ever developing into healthy po litical organizations. Chili alone among the Spanish states of South America has made real progress in the art of self- government, and has been blessed with internal peace for a generation.--Fra- aerf8 Magazine. Treasure-Trove. On different occasions in 1864 the Crown put in claims for treasure-trove-- a gold coin found at Long Crendon, in Buckinghamshire; sixty-two gold coins found in an earthen jar in a field at Stockerston, Leicestershire; no less than 6,000 silver pennies of the time of Henry III., found at Eccles, near Manchester; and 760 silver coins earthed up near Newark. The next following year gave the Crown a claim to 180 silver coins of the reigns of Mary, Elizabeth, James I., and Charles I., found at Grantham, and to a gold cross and chain brought to light at Castle Bailey, Clare, in Suffolk, The years 1866 and lb67 were marked, among other instances, by the finding of nearly 7,000 small gold and silver coins at Highbury, near London; eighty guineas concealed in the wall of an old house at East Parley, near Christchurch, Hants; and 260 old silver coins in a house at Lichfield. In other years there were 900 silver coins found at Cumberford, in Staffordshire, and eleven rose nobles found in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey. These several instances of treasure-trove were settled in various ways. Some of the findings were re turned by the Crown to the finders; some were sold to the British Museum, in a manner to place an honorarium in the finder's pocket; some were presented to museums, and the money value given to the finders; some are retained by the Crown, as antiquarian curiosities; while one has been handed over to the de scendants of a former owner.--Cham bers'Journal. Educating a 0 or 111A, Prof. Owen, Prof. Mivart and others attended the reoent private reception ia London of the young Berlin gorilla, named Pongo. Mr. Frank Buckland tried to teach him to write, but, although he did make some marks on the paper, he preferred to carry the pencil to his mouth, and swallowed about an inch of the best Cumberland lead. Pongo'a fa vorite position is to sit on the floor and hug a stick or an umbrella, and he is pleased to be trusted with an umbrella, although he does not always deserve the confidence, because he has a tendency to open it in a new and expeditions way,. and no nmbrella frame can resist his very great muscular strength of arm and jaw. He drank half a glass of beer in the presence of the audience, and also ate some roast be«f and potatoes; but ordinarily he lives chiefly on vegetables, and makes" enormous meals of _ them. In the morning they give him milk and fruits, cherries, currants, raspberries, etc. At midday he has a basin of boiled rice, and anything else that he can get. In the course of the afternoon he has more fruit, and perhaps some eau sncree of wine and water. In the evening more milk is brought, and this, with bread and butter and eggs, com pletes his supper. He goes to bed at 8, and sleeps as late as 8 the next morn ing. But he has learned to smoke--at least when the cigarette has an amber mouthpiece, for he does not like the taste of tobacco. Saw the Bashi-Baxouka Puisked Lying. Three Ba«hi-Bazouks the other day, in their wanderings, came across the body of a Russian soldier. They de termined to bury it, and were on the point of placing it in a hurriedly-dug grave, when the Russian came to his senses, and, observing their intention, remarked that he was not dead. They looked at him for a few seconds, when one of them remarked, "Really, you Russians are such liars that it is impos sible to believe anything you say. We found yon here dead, so you must be buried; and they buried him. --London Thtik PITH AND P01HT. m Tn ran is the oldest and best tanneC To A hungry fly, rn bald orchestra 4 an oasis. % : WHEN engin-ears comprom-eyes, anW body nose the people are a-faeacL ' SOKE people read the eleventh ootitt* mandment, " Do riot and fear not" | DON'T put human victims to the * but you may treat hungry horses in way. THMBK is one town in wheztb •& no matter what happens, it will hi ' Johet You know mock-modesty as you db ' . mock-turtle--from its being the nrodutia of a calf's head. A gTTTT-g being ssked what were lljs * " great feasts, promptly replied: " Breafc* fast, dinner and supper. * FiiY traps have begun their annual task of scaring the flies away from th* trap into everything else. WHY is a young lady of 17 brief BIUD|* mere like the Sultan's AsiatiopossesaionOT Because she is a she minor, „ ^ "DON'T you think, husband, yoftt are apt to believe everything you heartiF. • " No, madam, not when you talk." H'1» W» rather think that the most r£'f luctani slave to vice that we ever saw was a poor fellow who had his fingers / A CONTEMPORARY says of a very prOn$» , inent militia General that "his swolC was never drawn but onoe---and then M a raffle." A SPINSTER lady of 50 remarked the other day that she could go alone at months. *' Yes," said her hateful young half-brother, " and you've been goingn 'alone' ever since and never euchred/ anybody." £> 'it PATERFAMILIAS: " To-morrow is tutor's birthday; what can I get for a present ?" Charley (who has beei* watcUf- ing the dogs in the street): " Get him * - muzzle, papa; he is always biting the governess in the cheek!" A VERY precise person, remarking upon Shakspeare's lines, "The good that men do is often interred with their bones," carefully observed that tliia in terment can generally take plaee^with- ' out crowding the bones. ' AN old citizen in a country village, on having a subscription list handed to hint... toward purchasing a new hearse for the place, thus excused himself: " I paid $5 for a new hearse forty years ago, and me and my folks hain't had the benefit of it yet." A FRENCHMAN, soliciting relief, said, very gravely, to his fair hearer': "Ma'mselle, I never beg, but dat 1 have von wife with several small family, !' dat is growing very large and nossing to make deir bread out of but the perspira tion of my prow." A PASSIONATE temper renders a *N«N unfit for advice, deprives him of his rea son, robs him of all that is great and noble in his nature, makes him unfit for conversation, destroys friendship, trans forms justioe into cruelty, and tuns alt.', order into confusion. THE peculiarity of the fly is that he always returns to the same spot; but it is the characteristic of the mosquito that he always returns to another spot. Thus he differs from the leopard, whioh does ( not change his spots. This is an impor tant fact in natural history. THE BIRTH OF THE CUCUMBER. A teraph was sick with the oolic one day, And, weeping, leaned over the moon; Tbc tears, as they fell, floated lightly away On the gossamer pinions of June. Bat one, as it drifted along in the damp, Sank wearily down to the earth; As trembling it lay, 'twas embraced by a eramp, And the cucumber blushed into birth. --Boston Courier. A YOUNG dentist was introduced to a fashionable beauty the other evening^' and gracefully opened the conversation, by saying, "Miss , I hope I may consider that we are not entirely unac quainted; I had the pleasure of pulling a tooth for your father only a short time ago." " WHAT do you know about the pria- , oner ?" asked the Judge. " I don't know nothin' 'bout him, Judge, only he's < bigoted." "Bigoted?" said his Honor. "Yes. sail." "What do you mean by * bigoted?"* "Well, Judgo," exclaimed ' the witness, " he knows too much folk. - one niggah, an' not 'nuff foh two." " Duo you say I wa3 the biggest lie you ever knew ?" fiercely asked a ruffian of a counsel, who had been skinning him in his address to the jury. " Yes, I did," replied the counsel, and the crowd eager ly watched for the expected fight. "Well, then," said the ruffian, "all I've got to say is that you oould 'a never knowed my brother Jim." AN IDYII OF THE SB*. They sat on the broad verandah Overlooking the moonlit sea, And from out on the dancing watsn Came floating a sound of gieew • But suddenly with ii blending Came cries of childish woe-- . Came the sound of a slipper descending In measured cadence slow. " There's a squall out there," said a lounger; " Out there oa the moonlit seas." " Oh, no; not a squall," said the other; " 'Tis only a spanking breeae." --Nine York Commercial Advertiter. { An Ocean Mystery. On the 5th of August, last year^ this three-masted iron steamship Greats Queensland left London for Melbourne with a large cargo and sixty-nine pa»v sengers and crew on board. At Graves*; end she stopped to take on some thirty tons of black gunpowder and two torul of patent gunpowder. After this was laden, ahe proceeded en her voyage, and has never been heard from since Aug. 12, 1876. A name board belonging to her, however, and some life buoys, have been washed ashore on the south coast - of England. The E glish Wreck Com missioner has jusi decided that the steamer must have been destroyed by the explosion of the patent gunpowder, which was proved to have been in baa condition and improperly packed. Kellogg. Parties bearing the above name will be interested to learn that a work is now in preparation giving the genealogy of the family in this country from the mid dle of the seventeenth century to the present time. Ail interested will confer a favor by communicating with the pub lisher, Bnfus B. Kellogg, Green Bay, Wisconsin, who will 8<vnd, to any, oirou- ltirs with the outline of information desired. Persons of other names, with Kellogg ancestry ̂ are particularly re quested to write.