THB PASTOR'S BKTXB1X. RUT. WASHINGTON 8LADD1S, hepaotor «its in hM easy-chair, Wfib the Bible upon Ms knM. ••• , gold to purple the clouds to tht lNp Am «h»mlBg momently; ; ahadowa lie in the vunya below,.:, ' n MadL hide In the ourtain"s fold; :,, And OM p««e grows dim whereon 1M fUMM, , " I nanber the days of old." t-~y. "Rdtflkiritor dark," as the Script®!* Aitb, •jfe the pastor's memories arc; •oAaiy thatis gone was shadowlaaa, i So alght TH without Its star; Bnt mingled bitter and sweet hath tte portion of hto cup; •«,. ««T!ie hand that in l"»e hath mOttoa," he " Im jove hath bound us up." m&f*. flies his thought over many Afield # 4 , Of stubble and aiww and bloo*n, 4 And MOW it trips through a festival, And now it baits at a tomb; Tfo--ng fucrfi smile in his reverie * * OftW that are young no more, And roieo* are heard that only cmne WMi the wind# from a far-off shore. TyT"'iiw» Vkinku of the day when first with ftW*. And faltering lips, he stood To apeak in the sacred^place the Word Tb the waiting multitude; e walks again to the home of God, N Willi the voice of joy and praiae, 'VUli many whose feet long tii -'/v' me have pre--ed Heaven's safe and blessed ways. e enters again the homes of toil, And Joins in the homely chat; toe ntands in ihe shop of the artisan; He alts, where the Master sat, t the poor man's fire and the rioh loan's (eHt, But who to-day are the poor: And who are the rich? Ask Him who keeps The treasures that ever endure. i more the preen and the grove resound _ With the merry children's din ; , "W'lHe itearfl their shout at the Christmas-tide, >" When Santa.Clans stalks in. . ; Once more he lists while the camp-Are roars • On the distant, mountain-side, Or, proving apoptlephlp, plies the brook ¥rnct»:i the fierce young troutlinga hide. And now he beholds the wedding train To the altar slowly move, And the solemn words are said that seal The sacrament of love. : iaon at the font he meets onoe more The tremulous youthful pair, With a white-robed chernb crowing response To the consecrating prayer. Bar the couch of pain he kneels, again; Again, the thin hand lies Cola in his palm, while the last far look Steals into the steadfast eyes; And now the burden of hearts that break Lies heavy upon his own-- The widow's woe and the orphanY cry And the desolate mother's moan. 8o blithe and glad, BO heavy and sad, Are the days that are no more, flo aaournf ully sweet are the sounda thai float With the wind* from the far-off shore. WOT the pastor has learned what meaneth the word That is given him to keep -- f> •'B^Joioe with them that do rejoice, And weep with them that weep." D Is not in vain that he has trod This lonely and toilsome way, It is not in vain that he has wrought In the vineyard all the day; Vtar the soul that gives is the soul that 1lua_ And bearing another'* load Doth lighten, your own, and «horten the way, And brighten the homeward road. "-Harper's Magazine-for September. FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. The fire bums cheerily on the hearth, Hi© great logs crackle and flare up the •wide chimney, up which it is my wont 4o say you could drive a ooach-and-four. 1 draw my chair nearer to it with a shiver. ""What a night!" I say. 44 Is it still snowing"?" asks my wife, who sits opposite to me, her books and ^rork on the table beside her. 44 Fast. You can scarcely see a yard l>efore you." 44 Heaven help any poor creature on the moor to-night!" says she. " Who would venture out ? It began snowing before dark, and all the people about know the danger of being be nighted on the moor in a snow-storm." 44 Yes. But I have known people Ifrozen to death hereabouts before now." My wife is Scotch, and t.hi« pleasant hawm in the Highlands is hers. We are trying a winter in it for the first time, and I find it excessively cold and jfsomewhat dull. Mentally I decide that future we will only grace it with our jnce during the shooting season, ently I go to the window and look -out; it has ceased snowing, and through rift in the clouds I see a star. "It is beginning to clear," I tell my , "wife, and also inform her that it is past *11. As she lights her candle at a side- table I hear a whining and scratching at the front door. " There is Laddie loose again," says jshe. 44 Would you let him in, dearf" I did not like facing the cold wind, :4>ut could not refuse to let in the poor sanimal. Strangely enough, when I 'Opened the door and called him he wouldn't come. He runs up to the door ead. looks into my face with rtumb en treaty; then he runs back a few steps, looking ftiound to see if I am following; >aad finally, he takes my coat in his mouth and tries to draw me out. " Laddie won't come in," I call out to my wife. 44 On the contrary, he seems to want me to go out and have a game •of snow-ball with him." She throws a shawl around her and -siomee to the door. The collie was hers before we wi re married, and she is al most as fond of him, I tell her, as she is of Jack, our eldest boy. . " Laddie, Laddie !" she calls; 44 come an, sir. ' He comes obediently at her but refuses to enter the house, and * F®"16® the same dumb pantomime he IMUS already tried on me. 441 shall shut him out, Jessie," I say " A night in the snow won't hurt him!" and I prepare to close the door. ' 44Yon will do nothing of the kind!" «ie replies with an anxious look, 44 but •on will rouse the servants at once and follow liim. Some one is lost in the 4now, and Laddie knows it." *^ughV "Really, Jessie, you are abrord. Laddie is a sagacious animal, no doubt, but I cannot believe he is as t Juat' How can he Possibly know whether any one is lostintbe •BOW or not?" "Because he has found them and ©ome baok to us for help. Look at him now I cannot but own that the dog seems vestless and uneasy, and is evidently en- -deavormg to coax us to follow him - he looks at us with pathetic entreaty in' his eloquent eyes. "Why won't you be lieve me ?" he seems to ask. "Oome," she continues ; 44you know jou could not rest while there was a possibility of a fellow-creature wanting your assistance. And I am certain Lad- -die is not deceiving us." What is a poor hen-pecked man to do ? I grumble and resist and yield, as I have often grumbled and resisted and yielded before, and as I doubtless shall do again. *' Laddie once found a man in the •now before, but he was dead," Jessie says, as she hurries off to fill a flask with brandy, and get ready some blan- Jtete for us to take with us. In the vaeanfime I take rouse the servants. They are all English, with the exception of Donald, the gardener, and I can see they are sooffingly skeptical of Laddie's sagacity, and inwardly disgusted at hav ing to turn out of their warm beds and face the bitter winter's night. 44 Dinna trouble yoursels," I hear old Donald say. 44 The mistress is right enough. Auld Laddie is cleverer than mony a Christian, and will find some thing in the snaw this nignt," "Don't sit up, Jessie." I say as we start; !fwe may be out half the night on this wild-goose chase." 44 Follow Laddie closely" is the only answer she makes. The dog springs forward with a joy ous bark, constantly looking back to see if we are following. As we pass through the avenue gates and emerge on to the moor, the moon struggles for a moment through the driving clouds, and lights tip with » sickly gleam the saow-clftd country before us. " It's like hunting for a needle in a bundle of hay, sir," says John, the coachman, confidentially, " to think as we should find anybody on uch a night as this! Why, in some places the snow is more than a couple o' feet thick, and it goes again' reason to think that a dumb animal would have the sense to come home and fetch help." 44 Bide a wee, bide a wee," says old Donald, 441 dinna ken what your En glish dugs can do; but a collie, though it hasn't been pleasing to Providenoe to give the creatur the gift o' speech, oan do mony mair things than them that wad deride it." 441 ain't a deridin* of 'em," says John. 441 only say as how if they be so very clever I've never seen it." 44 Ye wull, though, ye wull," says old Donald, as he hurries forward after Lad die, who has now settled down into a swinging trot, and is taking his way straight across the loneliest part of the bleak moor. The cold wind almost cuts us in two, and whirls the snow into our faces, nearly blinding us. My finger tips are becoming numbed, icicles hang from my mustache and beard, and my feet and legs are soaking wet, even through my ehooting boots and stout leather leggings. The moon has gone in again, and the light from the lantern we carry is barely sufficient to show the inequalities in the height of the snow, by which w© are guessing at our path. 1 begin to wish I had staid at home. 44 L'homme pro pose, mais lafemme dispose" I sigh to myself ; and I begin to consider whether I may venture to give up the search (which I have undertaken purely to sat isfy my wife, for I am like John, and won't believe in Laddie), when suddenly I hear a shout in front of me, and see Donald, who has all the time been keep ing close to Laddie, drop on his knees and begin digging wildly in the snow with his hands. We all rush forward. Laddie has stopped at what appears to be the foot of a stunted tree, and, after scratching and whining for a moment, sits down and watches, leaving the rest to us. What is it sppears when we have shoveled away the snow ? A dark ob ject. Is it a bundle of rags ? Is it--or alas! was it a human being ? We raise it carefully and tenderly, wrap it in one of the warm blankets with which my wife's forethought has provided us. 44 Bring the lantern," I said huskily ; and John holds it over the prostrate form of, not as we might have expected, some stalwart shepherd of the hills, but over that of a poor, shriveled, wrinkled, ragged old woman. I try to pour a little brandy down the poor old throat, but the teeth are so firmly clenched that I cannot. 44 Best get her home as quickly as may be, sir; the mistress will know better what to do for her nor we, if so be the poor creature is not past help," says John, turning instinctively, as we all do in siokness or trouble, to woman's aid. So we improvise a sort of hammock of the blankets, and gently and tenderly the men prepare to cany their poor, helpless burden over the snow. 441 am afraid your mistiess will be in bed," I say, as we begin to retrace our steps. 44 Never fear, sir^' says Donald with a triumphant glance at John; 4'the mis tress will be up and waitin' for us. She kens Laddie didna bring us out in the snaw for naething." 44 I'll never say naught abont believing a dawg again," says John, gracefully striking his colors. '44 You were right and I was wrong, and that's all about it; but to think there should be such sense in a animal pisses me.'" As we reach the avenae gate I dis patch one of the men for the doctor, who fortunately lives within a stone's-throw of us, and hurry on myself to prepare my wife for what is coming. She runs out into hall to meet me. 44 Well ?" she asked eagerly. 44 We have found a poor old woman," I say; " but I do not know whether she is alive or dead." My wife throws her arms round me and gives me a great hug. 44 You will find dry things and a jug of hot toddy in your dressing-room, dear," she says; and this is all the revenge she takes on me for my skepticism. The poor old woman is carried up stairs and placed in a warm bath under my wife's direction; and before the doctor arrives she has shown some faint symptoms of life; so my wife sends me word. Dr. Bruce shakes his head when he sees her. 44 Poor old soid," he says; 44 how came she out on the moor on such a fearful night? I doubt she has received a shock, which at her age she will not easily get over." They manage, however, to force a few spoonfuls of hot brandy and water down her throat; and presently a faint color flickers on her cheek, and the poor old eyelids begin to tremble. My wife raises her head and makes her swallow some cordial which Dr. Bruce has brought with him, then lays her back among the soft, warm pillows. 441 think she will rally now," says Dr. Brace, as her breath ing becomes more audible and regular. 44 Nourishment and warmth will do the rest; but she has received a shock from which, I fear, she will never recover and so saying he takes his leave. By and by I go up to the room and find my wife watching alone by the aged sufferer. She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. 44 Poor old soul," she says; "I am afraid she will not rally from the cold and exposure." »I go round to the other side of the bed and look down upon her. The aged face looks wan and pinched; and the soanty gray looks which lie on ihe pillow are still wet from the snow. She is a very little woman, as far as I oan judge of her in her recumbent position, and I should think she must have reaohed her allotted three-score yean and ten. 44 Who can she be ?" I repeat, wonderingly. 44 She does not belong to any of the villages hereabouts, or we should know her face; and I cannot imagine what could bring a stranger to the moor on such a night." As I speak a change passes over her face; the eyes unolose, and she looks in quiringly about her. She tries to speak, but is evidently too weak. My wife raises her, and gives her a spoonful of nourishment, while she says, soothingly: 44 Don't try to speak. You are among friends; and when you are better you shall tell us all about yourself. Lie still now and try to sleep. . The gray head drops baolc wearily on the pillow; and soon we have the satis faction of Leasing by the regular respira tion that our patient is asleep. 44 You must come to bed now, Jessie," I say. 441 shall ring for Mary, and she can sit up for the remainder of the night." .But my wife, who is a tender hearted soul ana a born nurse, will not desert her post; so I leave her watching and retire to my solitary chamber. When we meet in the morning I find that the little old woman has spoken a few words and seems stronger. " Come in with me now," says my wife, 44 and let us try and find out who she is." We find her propped into a reclining posture with pillows, and Mary beside her feed ing her. How are you now?" asks Jessie, bending over her. 4' Better, much better, ihant you, good lady," she e*iys in a low voice, which trembles from age as well as weakness. 44 And very thankful to yon for your goodness." I hear at once by the acoent that she is English. 44 Are you strong enough to tell me how you got lost on the moor, and where you came from, and where you were going ?" continues my wife. 44 Ah! I was going to my lad, my poor lad, and now I doubt I shall never see him more,"says the poor soul, with a long sigh of weariness. 44 Where is your lad, and how far have you come ? " 44 My lad is a soldier at Fort George; and I have oome all the way from Liver pool to see him, and give him his old mother's blessing before he goes to the Indies." And then, brokenly, with long pauses of weariness and weakness, the little old woman tells us her pitiful story. Her lad, she tells us, is her only re maining child. She had six, and this, the youngest, is the only one who did not die of want during the Lancashire cotton famine. He grew up a fine, like ly boy, the comfort and pride of his mother's heart, and the stay of her de clining years. But a 44 strike" threw him out of work, and, unable to endure the privation and misery, in a fit of des peration he 4 4 listed." His regiment was quartered at Fort George, and ho wrote regularly to his mother, his letters get ting more cheerful and hopeful every day; until suddenly he wrote to say that his regiment was ordered to India, and begging her to send him her blessing, as he had not enough money to carry him to Liverpool to see her. The aged mother, widowed and childless, save for this one remaining boy, felt that she must look on his face onoe more before she died. She begged from a few la dies, whose kindness had kept her from the workhouse, sufficient money to carry her by train to Glasgow; and from thence she had made her way, now on foot, now begging a lift in a passing cart or wagon, to within a few miles of Fort George, when she was caught in the snow-t'torm; and, wandering from the road, would have perished in the snow--but for Laddie. My wife is in tears and Mary is sob bing audibly as the little old woman con cludes her simple and touching story, and I walk to the window and look out for a moment before I am able to ask her what her son's name is. Ao I tell her that we are but a few miles from Fort George, and that I will send over for him, a smile of extreme content il lumines the withered face. 44 His name is John Salter," she says. 44He is a tall, handsome lad; they will know him by that." I hasten down stairs and write a short note to Ool. Freeman, whom I know in timately, informing him of the circum stance, and begging that he will allow John Salter to come over at once, and I dispatch my groom in the dog-cart that he may bring him baok without loss of time. As I return to the house after seeing him start I meet Dr. Brace leav ing the house. 44Poor old soul," he says; 44her troubles are nearly over; she is wtnlHng fast. I almost doubt whether she will live till her son comes." 44 How she could have accomplished suoh a journey at her age I cannot un derstand," I observe. 44 Nothing is impossible to a mother," answers Dr. Bruoe ; 44 but it has killed her." *• I go in; but I find I cannot settle to my usual occupations. My thoughts are with the aged heroine who is dying up-stairs, and presently I vield to' the fascination which draws me back to her presence. As Dr. Bruce says, she is sinking fast. She lies back on the pillows, her cheeks as ashy gray as her hair. She clasps my wife's hand in hers, but her eyes are wide open, and have an eager, expectant look in them. " At what time may we expect them?' whispers my wife to me. 44 Not before 4," I answer in the same tone. 14 He will be too late, I fear," she " she is getting rapidly weaker." But love is stronger than death, and she will not go until her son comes. All through the winter's day she lies dying, obediently taking what nourish ment is given to her, but neves speaking except to say : " My lad, my lad ! God is good ; He "will not let me die Tfufcfl he comes." And at last I hear the dog-cart. I lay my finger on my lip and tell Mary to go and bring John Salter up very quietly. But my caution is needless ; tie mother has heard the sound, and with a last ef fort of her remaining strength she raises herself and stretches out her arms. 4# My lad, my lad !" she gaspes as, with a great sob, he springs forward, and mother and son are clasped in each oth er s arms onoe more. For a moment they remain so. Then the little old woman sinks back on my wife's shoul der, and her spirit is looking down from heaven on the lad she loved so dearly on earth. She lies in our little ohuroh-yard un der a spreading yew-tree, and on the stone which marks her resting-place are insoribed the words, 44 Faithful unto Death." Our Laddie has gained far- spread renown for his good works; and, as I sit finishing this short record of a tale of which he is the hero, he lies at my feet, our ever-watchful, faithful companion and Mend.--Chamber#' Journal. - 1 1 ' 4 ' ' No More Browning. Interesting and successful experiments have been made at Havre with a dress designed by M. Selingue for saving life at sea. The trials took place in one of the large docks of the town. One of the harbor pilots and a boatman wearing ordinary clothes and heavy sea boots, put on the life-saving dress and plunged into the basin. It was found that they floated in the water without making the slightest movement. The men next swam for some time about the dock. When they emerged from tha water they were examined by the commission, who satisfied themselves that the men still wore their heavy clothing and boots. The inventor next proceeded to out the suit all over, in order to show that a person wearing the life-saving clothes would still float, even though thev should be torn by coming in contact with floating wreckage, rocks, etc. Alto gether, thirty-two cuts and rents were made in the dress, leaving the body of the wearer in many plaoes exposed to view. One of the men then divested himself of his clothing, and, plunging into the water, feigned to be drowning. His companion, still wearing the out and mutilated dress, entered the basin and easily brought the other to the shore. So well satisfied were the commission with the result of these experiments that they at once gave the inventor an order for thirty of the life-saving suits, for the use of the crews of the two life-boats stationed at Havre. The dress consists of a paletot and trousers, forming a sin gle garment, and is rendered insub- mergible by being divided into twenty- eight compartments, each of which con tains a float, composed of twenty small cylindrical floats. The system may be applied to any clothing. A Carious Sermon. A remarkable sermon was recently preached by the English Bishop of Man chester, near Bolton, in the course of which he said everybody deplored the comparative failure of results which Christianity had produced in the world. No one, he supposed, would say to-day that Christianity had done in the world what it might reasonably have been ex pected to have done. He could not ac count for the failure. It was easy to say, if it were God's work, it surely must have prospered more than it had done. That was not his way of arguing. He oould see, from its own inherent excel lency, its own admirable structure, its own entire harmony with and adaptation to every want of nature, that Christianity must be divine. But ask him why it had failed--why there were perhaps 50,- 000 out of tne 80,000 people in Bolton and the neighborhood living as if there was no such thing as Christianity--he could not explain it; he could only say it illustrated that important truth of the power which man had in his freedom of will to resist and quench the sanctifying power of the Holy Ghost. Horrors of the India Famine. The editor of the Madract Times, a member of the relief committee, writes under date of Aug. 1 as follows: The population of Southern India, more or less affected by famine, numbers24,000, 000. In the most favorable circum stances, at least one-sixth will die. Twenty-three people in all died of starv ation in Bengal. In Madras, no camp of 8,000 rises morning after morning with out leaving thirty corpses. In the in terior the distress is most fearful. One gentleman passing down the valley in the Wylaad district counted twenty-nine dead bodies on the road. A ooffee- Elanter seeking shelter from rain in a ut found six decomposing corpses in it. On any day and every day mothers may be seen in the streets of Madras offering their chldren for sale, while the found ling portion of the poor-house is full of infante, found by the police on the road, deserted by their parents. Since the famine began 500.000 people have died of want and distress. Th© first big trag edy may be expected in Mysore. In that provinoe, indeed, information has reached me from Bangalore of two oases of cannibalism already. Wheat inthe northwest. The Chicago Tribune says Mr. J. Z. Werst, of that city, has made a careful and independent survey of the situation, and gives the following as estimates of the wheat crop of the four States named this year. His estimates a year ago were very near to the afterward-published offi cial figures: BueheU. Iowa 80,897,000 Minnesota.. 29,716,#00 Wisconsin 23,280,000 Kansas. 18,666,000 Total .........96,009,000 Mr. W. has also collected the follow ing Chicago prices on the crop-years Highest. .1*1.77 Lowest. Attrage. Highest. .1*1.77 $0.93 $1.27 .88 1.03 .81 .98 .89 1.14 .. 1.34 1.01 1.19 .. l.«l 1.08 1.38 .. 1.31 .88 118 .. 1.33 .78 .94 .. 1.68 1.01 1.31 .. 3.90 1.88 1.87 1875 1874 1878 1873 1871 1870 1869 1808 1867 Average of last fire years, $1.12; do of preceding flye years, $1.29. A Distinction. The circus is coming again, and onoe more we will have the pleasure of wit nessing the cheerful spectacle ef seven church members taking one 2-year-old child "to see the animals." 441 didn't go into the .circus department," said a good deacon, after the last moral circus was here, 44but I dropped in to look around the menagerie a few moments with my little grandson, and I do think the man that tied his legs in a bow-knot around his neck and then crawled through the hoop was aloneworth the prioe of admission."Burlington Hawk-Eye. SLAPSTOHg. ThcOreftt «n«llah Btnt--wn r»P» > Tr-- la th* Fmnw of 1,4M People. [From tlM London TtsMe.] The residence of the Bight Hon. W. E. Gladstone, Hawarden Castle, near Chester, was on Saturday visited by the members of the Bolton Liberal Associa tion and their friends. Ihe party num bering abont 1,400. The ex-!Premier at onoe granted them permission to roam through the splendid grounds, but to the further request that he would ad dress this large company of Lancashire admirers he at first gave a decided re fusal. Then the oommittee who had the excursion in hand pressed him to at least show himself, and at last, after some hesitation, he said he and his son (Mr. W. H. Gladstone, M. P. for Whit by) were, in the course of the afternoon, going out to fell a tree in the park, and he would then respond to any vote of thanks that might be aooorded him, With this assurance the Bolton Liberals were oontent, and the hall was anxiously watched br attentive scouts for the egress of the right honorable gentleman and his son. A little after 4 o'clock Mr. Gladstone and his son came from the hall, clad in rough working-suits, with slouch hats, and, ax in hand, proceeded to a distant portion of the park, and, the scouts having given the signal to the main body of excursionists, the wood men were followed by large numbers of people. A halt was made under a huge ash tree of certainly not less than fifteen feet circumference at the base of the trunk, and father and son set to work in earnest in the presence of more specta tors than ever before saw a tree felled, certainly on the demesne of Hawarden Castle. Before beginning, off wer>t hat, coat, and neckerchief, till they had on only check shirts and rough light pants, and as the chips flew at the stroke of their axes the admiring excur sionists picked up some of the fragments and carefully treasured them as mementoes of their visit. As some relief to the monotony of waiting, the excursionists sang several glees, which served as accompaniments to the thuds of the axes, and, as the ex-Premier paused to breathe awhile, crowds gathered round him with a view to shaking hands. Like a gallant man, Mr. Gladstone granted the favor to the ladies of the company, but sternly refused it to the male sex, who had to oontent themselves with lusty cheers at frequent intervals. The enthu siasm was intense, and, when the right honorable gentleman leaned on his ax to wipe away the perspiration from his brow, his scanty hair waving in the breeze, and in the fore and background a splendid landscape of woodland, the scene would have made a picture. In one of the pauses the right honorable gentleman complimented the excursion ists on their excellent singing, which, he said, was not remarkable, seeing that Lancashire people were renowned for their musical ability; and, later on, when a perceptible inroad had been made into the trunk, two of the leading excursion ists took the opportunity to propose and second a vote of thanks to the right hon orable gentleman and Mrs. Gladstone for their kindness in allowing the use of the park, and for favoring them with their presence. The vote was carried amid lond cheer- Mr. Gladstone, leaning on his ax, ac knowledged the compliment, and ex pressed his pleasure at seeing so many friends present enjoying the scenery of the park, as his wife and son had en joyed them from their infancy, and he himself for half his life. The right honorable gentleman then continued: " I hope some of you will live to see the time when there will not be such a con trast between manufacturing towns and the country as there is now." A Pet Dog Shot in Its Mistress' Arms. A suit was commenced before Justice Semler, of Brooklyn, yesterday, by Miss Alice Begg, against George Huntington, to reoover $5,000 damages. The action is brought under the following circum stances : The parties are neighbors, Miss Begg residing at the corner of Lewis avenue and Witherspoon street, and Mr. Huntington at No. 787 Wil- loughby avenue. The gentleman, it seems, found one of his favorite chick ens dead in his yard, and, believing Miss Begg's dog was the cause, went to her reeidGiicc, aimed with a revolver^ and demanded the animal's life. Miss Begff, to save her pet, grasped it in her arms, and Huntington, not to be de feated, shot the dog wliile its mistress held it. Miss Begg not only had Hunt ington arrested for shooting her pet, but also for trespassing. The father of the defendant is also brought into the case on the ground of attempted assault and battery on Miss Begg because of his son's arrest. It is alleged that he was prevented from committing violence only by the presence of an officer. The nervous system of the lady is said to have been very muoh shocked by the shot which ended the dog's life.--New York Herald. SftsoeMiig Accident. A terrible accident happened a few days ago at a railroad crossing about ten miles west of St. Louis. Mr. W. F. Ritehey, his wife and two children were crossing the Missouri Pacific railroad track in a covered wagon, when a pas senger train going west struck the vehi cle and tore it into splinters. Mr. Ritehey was tossed into tne air and in stantly killed. His wife and the two children were carried 250 yards on the engine front. Mrs. Ritehey was breath ing when taken from the engine, but died while being carried to a W&gon. The babe was fatally injured, and the remaining member of the family, a little girl named Gracie, has a broken thigh. One of the horses was killed outright and the other escaped unharmed. Mr. Ritehey was a nephew of Judge John F. Long, Collector of Customs at StLouis. Condensed Beer. Condensed beer is the latest disoovery in the drinking line. The process has been patented in England. The beer is evaporated in a vacuum until a large part of the water and alcohol is distilled away. Beer, it is said, may thus be re duced to one-eighth its original bulk. To restore the beer it is only necessary to add the bulk of water distilled off, with a small quantity of yeast or other ferme nt. Thus will the Briton who loves his drop of good beer be enabled to carry his nose-painter with him wherever he goes. mr laaaT FBOFOSAJL. AS last, the long day's baying done, I turned to leave the fragrant meadowi where, on th* grass, the setting arm • ' L, Before ma eaatmy lengthened shadow.^ ^ ^ ' * narrow path, that ran inni Br LoTen'i tami, a crooked by-way Waioh eomrwhere thereabouts btigaa, , <«ded on the dusty highway. w":': ' *h®ir barnyard first of all, |L • rr® wandered through a wooMbtOK W oldmne - « inciting yon to follow. ^ - 7 < Wj^mbed a hill where all the dat ^ ""' «t^?-? '̂,r,.rd>y«>d a mimic Bsvbftl; ^ flowed thw slid beneath our barn's brown gflto. A shorter eat It wsa, that led To our own homeatead from the eeeAilE* And. so I foiDomd itiiurtotdL • And on before me went my nhadow. \ »en, nearing LoreA's farm, I heard The white-horned eafttln hinu. i__ i ilowjqgt I glanced behind the barnyard walL %ad there sat Katy milking "Speckle W favorite oow among them alL ' » "tier fine ooat flecked with many a fieajjn^ Then up got Katy--so by that I knew her milking done--and atraichtaM.' While my own heart went pit-a-pat, Came toward me through the open -Ike sun dropped down from out the sky, And left the west with rioh trald laden • As awkward country lad was 1, * And Katy bat a simpio maiden, Hfer eyes met mine, as if by ' • Not knowing who it was; then rttj5jr,~ - "" •Heath drooping lids withdrew their gli Then baok again to mine stole slyly. With that last lojk my courage grew! "• said--it may have been I swore it-- She was the prettiest girl I knew, And told ber how L loved her for it. • Perhaps she gave me no reply, • Perhaps it WM the night's gray enrtfein.' " Blow-falling from Uie twilight sky, Which left licr answer so uncertain. Then winding homeward, torn with doubt, 'The tree-toads trilled their firm eonviotkNI j T»e patriarch frogs, with deep-bass afloat, Grew hoarse and loud In oontradietion ; The katydids pronounoed both ways; But ere the moon was one hour older I aat beneath its silvery rays With Katy's head upon my ahouldor. PITH AMD POINT. BIST thing out---A conflagration. As old-fashioned watering-place--A pnmp. WHEN is a ship like a dressmaker? When she's rounding the oape or tacking about. WHAT is the difference between chari ty and a tailor ? The first covers a mul titude of sins; the second a multitude of - sinners. A oXiEBOYMAN of ordinary abilities asked for a license to preach. "I grant you. permission/' said the Bishop, "but nature refuses it." " THAT was very greedy of yon, Tom my, to eat your little sister's share of I cake." "You told me, ma, I was id- ways to take her part," said Tommy. A ST. LOUIS reviewer wrote an article entitled " Martin Luther--Diet of Worms," and the compositor set it up, 44 Martin Luther died of worms." _ TRYING to do business without adver tising is like winking at a pretty girl in the dark; you may know what yon are doing, but nobody else does. " YOTJ'RE a smart fellow," sneered a lawyer to a witness, the other day, in a Brooklyn court. "I'd return the com pliment if I wasn't under oath." replied the witness. IT is estimated that there are 2L400 disorders to which the human frame is liable. When a man is laid up with the rheumatism, he is apt to think that the entire number has struck tu'm in concert, A COUNTRY school-master's description of a money-lender: "He serves you in the present tense, he lends you in the conditional mood, keeps you in the sub junctive, and ruins you in the future." AT a public 'contest lately held, the following was the prize conundrum? What is the difference between a tenant and the son of a widow ? The tenant has to pay rents; but the son of a widow has not two parents. THERE was some philosophy in the henpecked husband who, being asked why he had placed himself so complete ly under the government of his wife, an swered, " To avoid the worse aiavecy of being under my own," HAWK-EYTUKS. Burlington man to fruiterer: " Give me 25 cents worth of grapes." Fruiterer, in amfiFoment: "We don't cut our grapes; you'll nave to take a whole one." The potato-bug doesn't think of his stomach, all the time. He is passionate- ly fond of the odor of exquisite floweib, and MB favorite resort is in the tube* rows. The with the white vest often looks disconsolately at the varying lines across the front of that garment, and wonders why all bars are not built the same height. Striped stockings are going out of style, and the Sunday-school picnic will no more be electrified by a brilliant dis play of the northern lights every time a girl falls out of the swing, Ex-Gov. Packard has gone out of pol itics, and spends all his time feeling the gums of the twins for teeth, and trying to teach them to talk. And, when the twins are simultaneously smitten with the worst kind of nocturnal anti-concilia tion colic, Packard just sits up in bed, and holds his hands over his ears, and says: "Merciful Heavens! This is worse than the river-parishes." Yesterday morning a man knocked a baker off the sidewalk down on Main street, and some one was heartless enough to speak of the victim as "kaook- knead." Dough nut make ache the heart of the unfortunate by vile puns. The cruel fates never appear half so grim and pitiless as when they marry a girl whe has gone through Vassal', and can play divinely, paint like an angel, dance like a fairy, and slam the front door in seven languages, to a man who owes for the clothes he was married in, begs his tobacoo, and buys his wood half a cord at a time. NEARLY 8,000,000 of sheep were de stroyed by disease or the depredations of dogs and wolves uuring the last year, representing a money value of nearly $8,000,000. The loss is greatest pro portionately in North Carolina, Florida and Louisiana, and ranges from 17 per cent, in the former State, to 3.7 in Ne braska, the average being abont 8. THE last case of cow-hiding comes from Colorado, where a woman is said to have hidden her oow lander the bed to save it from taxation.