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> ** • V >j -•', <•-*' ^ -* - ^ •, ** .<**, ^ , . . . . _ . ^ . ^ - . ._ _ . MMMMhfl K--- lrmlrt him, too. He was He's dreadful worried boat his effer in Wffl JttfS, TSTWlTirodittll J. TANUTVE, Uitor * FtfAfebra. j UcHENRY. ; : ILLINOIS. •I THE SMILE AND THM SIGH* • uoTmvt anile, which smiled in Onoe hailed upon the ptwini breese A new-bom sigh* which H|heain gladnem To gin a raft lea* mortef ease d formed » nnkJa--" /* w-»- i y to give the other rest u ThM. mutually their toils relieving. They lived in peaceful light and shade; , Nopetty Jealmisiee conceiving, :#4 Of nought, not even death, nfmici. yy •And when, with friendship utill unbroken, . Fiite caused them for a time to part, Each of the other kept a token. To prove the t*P were «jne at heart. "For, imiliw, the afefc to Heavenwm oaik£|/ ._9n an»W-told«n wm«* nne dasr, 1? V While, nghing, the smile oneuthstul taRitd, And lent its charm to lifeless clay* ^Tijl then, this world was often dretfr, ••• • Brt itai then iso the legend mith), ..Death • sigh gives iif« nntn the l IaI*'* smile iteeii illumines death. --Macmillan't Magasim. H* shaflied in arifl took a chair. Then fixed on as a stony stare-- . W e w r o t e a w a y , u n h e e d i n g . Until the clock struck twelve, and then . We aaked him, as we dropped our pea. Well, sir, what are yon needing? ' Oh, notW' much--I thought I'd call-- I see you kindly mention all .The foMts your village visit; nch trouble, is u? T Just say, * We're gratified to state That our eld friend and college matey --"-- J. Kbenezer Bkinner, Called at our office t'other day. Convened a while, and, by the wsjr. Went home with us to dinnoic. " --Franklin (A>.) Patriot. •J" J llCNT ANN. S^YtCtaBKire came across lot* from tb*> Tt* housq on the hill to where, in the Antisses' back oorch. Miss Ann was •shelling pease, iter greeting was, *f*iLa, Ann, you don't say thava you! iiilit then I might 'a knowed. As I was tellin' Hester yisterday, 4 If Ann is -Tjrjsitin', she1 il smell measles to hunt, mid eowe tear in' back. • Ann aUns was a»reg'la,r little angel of charity, bus'lin' prtund^ mish compliments is human; Erobably Miss Antiss appreciated hers, ut her manner of receiving it was characteristic. She said, "Well, I had to come hum some time, so it was as well one time as anuther. Hannah fiieeded somebody bad enough. How's JO&.folttP" * .... - " OUT folks is all smart; and I was up to Ruth's day afore yisterday. Ruth's layin' down lots of butter, and the farm docks beautiful. They're all well too, •only it seems to me Annie looks ruther peakid. She alius had so much color, and used to be so full of her talk, but -she jest set and sewed, and hardly said a word. Lizzy's growin' dreadful fast; =she's a reg' lar tomboy. Ruth alius was slack with her children. We, Hester -and me, had a real good time; and "when we come along down, we stopped -at Miss Hadden's, and there was ner and Harry Jackson a-settifi* on the Miss Hadden she hinted round •about his comin' there so often; but you needn't tell me, Harry Jackson don't ™Want Lizse an' her giggles an' eye- Tollin's. But, la me, how I be runnin' <on! I suppose you couldn't let mo have just a tiny cup Of yeast? ourn's worked, *nd Hester s dreadful partic'- lar ab&ut yeast." "Somethin's to pay/' Miss Antiss said to the pease, as she rSsitmed work 2t^r watching Miss Greene's yellow ,A-bonnet bob through the hole in the * fence. " Annie ain't growin' thin and 2uiet, and Harry Jackson ain't sparkin' Jze Hadden, for nothin'. Ruth she'd vet t see nothin' was the matter till nie had fretted herself to death, and en she'd call it a ortlerin' of Provi­ nce. Jacob's too busy, and Annie is ntiss clean through. She'd never say i MiJihlii' to nobody. But Ptt find out.' fche ehildrea gits over the heft of flio measles, I'll go over." A week later and Anilie wsr? seat^lfn east door, trying to read, ai|d not in oughts, when Jabcz clumped through, ^the hall, and tiptoed carefully over the of oarpet scattered -oa the fresh* ' ,ly paiuted 'floor. " Bt your mother to hum?" ri ".Yes; she is down in the garden. iflWop any one want to see her?" •J* "There's a woman a-settin' in a shay nt the gate, but she won't git out till she ^ Jtiiowslf Miss Ford's to hum." • " Who is it, Jabez?" »rts " I dunno. A little chitter-face ",'JJioKian» gittin' on in vears. I'll step •out an' call Miss f"ord"--escaping through the open door, for woqpan- eS Iliad of any age was Jabez's terror. Annie found a small figure surmount- •ed by a gre en calash seated bolt-upright "vi| aa old chaise, drawn by< n sleepy- ' looking white horse, whose every tail whisk seemed to disturb the driver, as «he always followed it with a " So, Jen­ ifer ." Oh, Aunt Ann, is that you? How • glad I am to see you! Mother's at home; She was down in the garden. Won't tyou get out?" v-.t " Yes, if you'lljgo to the horse's head Be keerful, child---as Annie took hold fit the bridle--" she's dreadful skittish. But who's a-goin' to take ray things?" beginning, now that she was able to take her eyes from the horse, to reach tfnder the seat and draw out various » ®~lnaskets and bundles. •iU-t? "Jabez!" called Annie; but Jabez a#as safely on his way to the meadow lot T^ith his rake over his shoulder. ^ • ; "Lizzie! Lizzie! where are yon?" • h <« Here--swinging." r " Oome down to the front gate. Aunt ' Ann is here." . "Oh, what fun!" and a merry-look- » k lug, sunburned girl of fifteen jumped * #om the swing, and ran around the jjiouse, through the large shady yard, to fee gate. "How do you do, Aunt Ann? It's so long since you've been here, I have al tie. Then the descent was acoom- lished. Grasping firmly the side and boalS, MbK cautiously put l® fofUbiSb.pewyw it back to see if Anniewiwlioraing the horse's head firmly, tried the other foot, and finally reached the horse-block in safety. Sale on terra forma, Miss Antiss breathed a jsi^h of relief, greeted her great-nieoes 'briefly, and turned to the horse. " Jennie must be put up. Where's that slab-sided boy that was rakin' the JWfiWiAJ bVi. U. le#.I AA^tako, l#e^ Jtl^ft^s." Tumbling them unceremoniously into Annie's arms, Lizzie sprang into the chaise, and chirruping to the fat horse, touched her smartly with the whip, astonishing the horse into a cow- like gallop. "My patience abide me, 'Liz'beth .will be killed^ It's a -if1 riskin' of Providence to drive so la#," said Aunt »iAnn. But^ th% ch«ls# itirabled and rolled into the lane in safety, notwith­ standing her fears, and disappeared in Ihe barn. Mrs. Ford was hurrying to the gate as they turned--a broad moth­ erly figure, wfiose gun-bonnet strings fluttered in the little breeze such a large body created fa. walking so fast. ^ 1 ' G* Why, Aunt Ann, Jpnp proper Mad to see you! Oome right in! I was down in the garden, and had to wash my hands. How did you come to get away, and all Hannah's five down with the measles!" "Hannah's five ain't mine, thank the Lord, and I'm free to come and go as I please. I wanted to see- Jacob; they're al through the belt on ©to.". ' *" ' *' * 44 We're dreadful pleased to see you, | anyway. aik right in to the koopin'- room. Annie, take your aunt's Don- net," said Mrs. Ford, who was a most hospitable woman, bustling into the house before them to open the door of i -a pleasant room, with two sunny win- "dows looking out bfer the rolling jhaeadows of the farm. A brighf car­ pet was on the floor; the roq3dnff-|hairs and lounge were covered wit* fresh chintz; several pretty pictures hung on the wall, and Annie's books covered the table and hanging shelves. Mr. Ford was a very well-to-do farmer,' and Annie had spent two years away from home at school, which accounted for the tastefol arrangement of flower* and trifles about the room. The green calash removed. Kiss An­ tiss proved to be ah exceedingly small, spare person, with a face yellowed by time and lined with innumerable wrhi- klcs, a sharp nose, and, faded blue eyes. Her very thin brown hair screwed into a nob on the back of her head, and the front arranged in two flat feiifcls, held in place by side combs directly over her ears. Taking her patchwork from her.bag, she. at once began takiqg small even' stitches, sitting bolt-upnjfbt in her chair, casting sharp glances mean­ while out of the window and about the room, where no movement of her favor­ ite Annie escaped her. Mrs. Ford took a rocking-chair and her knitting. Then the conversation began. . 44 Bo the boys and Jacob well?" "Usually well. Jacob gits prettv tired by night, but the boys go ahead, and do nicely. Sibyl said you'd been O U7ftVn^ w* 4TJ,* FVte^ef cl<M V%te of twi&fy miles to the Unioh: but it didn't look very nat'ral, and I warn't sorry to come away. There's hardly anybody left there that 1 knowed, either." 41 What is it like, Aunt Ann?" said Lizzie, who had come in and seated herself on the w indow-sill beside her. " Oh,* farms now, much Mas it looks here. When we used to live there, on Greene's patent, between there ^nd Peru Village the pine-trees stood so thick,on each side of the road a two- year-old heifer couldn't crowd between them, and the sun never touched the road in the longest summer days. It was dreadful wild round there then. Onp day me and your gre't-Uncie Sam'el went into tht back lot to carry the men tfieir dinner--'twarn't fur from the house neither--<btit we had to pass a little wood, and right the other side on it, a settin' right up 6n end,' lookin* at us, was what "rre took for a great gray dog. He looked at us, and vr.4 .at'SJatV Ach Skai up -with 'Liz'beth, your tongue runs faster'n rer. Take them things"--handing at a bandbox, a woric-bag, a basket. a olone ! see that it was a gray wo|f--as big *ne as ever I seen, too.1' s and me with a utick, and hove at. him. He jumped tip; and bfctted 4 uSCp then we acme Oh my! weren't you friglrtenedf" Aunt Ann paused to take up a fresh bk»ok of patchwork, and cast a sharp glance sA the slight figure of Annie in the south window, bending oyer her tewing, with a sad, far-away look in the blue eyes, and a mournful droop at the corners of the pretty month. Some­ thing was the matter, miss Antiss made up her mind then and there* Annie had not heard one word of the brisk conversation going on around her, that was plain enough to be seen. What was the matter? That was t^e ques­ tion Miss Ann went over and over in her mind, while her tongue kept time with her needle. She would keep her eyes open and find out, for, like a good many other wise women, Miss Antiss never asked questions when she really wished to get at the bottom of any­ thing. So now she threaded her needle, settled her spectacles again, and. went on; for, as she said to herself, ,4Talkin' kinder covers up so, people don't think you're watchin' on 'em, and so is kinder throwed off their guard if you keep a-talkin1." 44 Frightened? No, not very. 'T war'nil the last one I see, by a Jugful, or of other animiles either. One night the old cow came helleiing home, tail straight up in tne air, and something dark-colored and yellow right between her shoulders; the creature jumped off jSithe cow stret up a tree close by the barn, and from one branch to another way off in the woods agiq; it was a pat- amount, and the poor cow had to be killed, it had tore such a hole in her shoulder." 44 How perfectly dreadfulL Just sup­ pose there should be any* catamounts around here!" and Lizzie glanced with a shudder toward the grove of sugar- maples by the river. Do tell some more about it. Wasn't Jiost forgotten how you look. But whyr that a very wild place?" ,f j|on't you get out?" "Wild? I guess it Was! Whvi^hen ..'wwh rn»rtnnm.n,«.f„^» I was little, If any of the men-folks didn't oome in at dark, big fires would be lit, "sttd fl£ll' th'tf tih '̂ ans and tia- K v d j w j through tl ron. till they found >n!e|£| We* gi Mo dowfi kinder we was a-ruimiiy TK& Uoys'h' killed a bear that dav in the corn-field, and so they went and got it and sot it up, nat'ral as life, right in the path we was str comin' by. We was a-laughin' and gigglin1 they could 'a hearerus a mile off; so they hid to see the fun. Pretty soon we come kerslap on ter the bear; and then such a screechin' as we sot up! Father he come out, and warn't he mad! Such a lickin' as every boy he ketched got was a caution. 44 Our folks»sEas Quakers. Myjoother wM^*tk?agf%' harsh^ftaietlwinan, thoa^fatHepdised to witfk JtAifc Avin' good times. Many's thd* time me and Liz'beth's throwed our white dresses in a bandbox out the winder to our cousins, the Greene boys, and clim out arter them, toxun awa^ to a dance, footin' it four or perhaps Mx miles to it,.; When we'd be bomin' home, though, through them pine woods. 'twarn't no laughin' matter--the wolves on each side on us among the trees. First one would yelp and howl--make your hair stand up straight--and then a dozen more would jine in, till it seemed as ef they was close to our heels. How we would clip it a-goin'! The bridge over the river we ̂ had <jer cross was jest pine poles with the baifk. on. The way we went over fchem was a caution--didn't stop to pick steps much, I can tell you. Sometimes when the moon was bright, we could see the wolves a-skulkin' along bstwss" ths trees; if we had a torch, the boys alius waved |t, and we alius kep' a-talkin", ^®l! *w« g# 44 Aunt Ann, you must have been such a wild girl! and now you think I'm wild. Why, I'd run ten miles if I thought there was a wolf anywhere near me." " Times is change since them days," said Aunt Ann,~"gutirded!y. " I don't suppose I was so dreadful wild for them days. Mercy to me! is it five o'clock?" For Annie was setting the table, smoothing out the white cloth, bring­ ing out and carefully wiping the plain white china, putting oh Wild strftwbeir- ries, #weet June butter^ light, sjaowy biscuits and small, round, old-fashioned seed-cakes, beside the more substantial dishes for the men, while Anna Maria, the help, brewed the tea and made ready the table in the outer kitchen for the hired men; but doing it all with the same listless air and far-away look iliss Antiss had watched all the' afternoon. .'•Ruth, don't Annie look rather Sf>ih- dlin' ?" Miss Antiss said, during one of Annie's frequent excursions from the room. 44 Why, do you think so? She's been sewing hard, harder than I wanted her to. Perhaps you see her so seldom that you see a change more'n I do. Do you think she looks sick?" ' j A only kinder a*d pimpin. I brttng over some or my root beer; you'd better see that she drinks it and don't set in-doors too steady. Make her putter in the flower-beds or some- thin' of that kind," Miss Antiss hasten­ ed to say, for if Annie's trouble was a heart-ache, her mother's bustle and and worry about health and loss of ap­ petite would be more than she could en­ dure; so she spoke carelessly, but being the family and general oracle of the neighborhood, her wor<|s received;1 the attention they deserved.. 64 Autiie favors me more thas therest On you," She said to -Liseie, who fell to wondering what possible resemblance there could be between Annie's rippling mass of brown • hair, violet eyes and small, elegant figure, and Aunt Ann. 44 My hair used to curl when I was young," Miss Antiss went on. 44 My mother couldn't abide it, but father thought it was pretty; so he used to let me wear it hangift' down sometimes, and I'd curl it then. One night, when 1 was asleep, mother took the shears and just suwed it all off. Didn't I feel bad when I woki up!'* ^ a / 'P " Why, whnti, a V>rrid woman .she m^j$t |i%ve be6|i!,3'. aiiid^fl^^ping down from the window- sill to set the chairs artnmd the table. 44 I'm glad i didn't have her tor my mother." 44 Don't speak disrespectful of your gre't grandmother, 'Liz'beth. She was a proper smart woman, and did more weavin' and epinnin' than any other woman in the country a'most, but she didn't believe in danciii' and curlin' hair, and she fit the world's ways alius." "Tear3 teadyt" flftd Aufifa, Bring­ ing ilk tlie teaj^ 4^Etnd fathei's opm- was ftd pleasant and free-hearted; hut he was awful easy mad and turrible proud. He'd sparked me 'mpst a year, *° all the singin'-schools and huskin s and quiltin's and dances that I eould run away ter. Gals is so fitty; some* time» they bite their own noees off, with thdir eyes wide open, too. Sioh a danee as I led him! Just think on it, Annie--one night, when he asked to see me hum from singia'-school, I tol* him yes, if he woyld walk befcfnd jest where I did; it had been a-rainin', and was dreadful muddy. Hum I went, walkin' through the middle of every puddly, an' the deepest mud-holes I could find, an' he arter me, ready to follow me anywheres^ 44 We was a-talkin' of boin* merried in the fall; the day waratwt; hot I was a-spinnin' an' weavin' an' bleachin' my pillar-burs an* sheets. I've got enuteid ftwjv' yit. Theie was a»«theT fySpi sispt ter hang rmind *me iti them dayir; he's dead and gone now, but it made Joe dreadful provoked to have me no­ tice him, because he warn't very stid- djy and. besides. Joe wanted mc>ll to himself. Sosiiatimef, to plague pm, I uised to laugh nidtalk wift him, t^ousdi I never thought he could hoF a candle to Joe. One night we went to an ap- ple-boe at Peru Village. We all went in chaisls because itim a-i%inin'. Alt the way Joe was a tryin' ter make me fromise not to have nothin' to say ter 'rank "Brodmaii Ui#t night; bit I was like some other gafe, silly and giddy, and a reg'lar spitfire infer the bargain. So I fired th{H and ae| L s 4 Joe Ed­ wards, I ain't bound yit, and Pll talk to jest who I please.' •'4 Very wtell, Ann,'he sea, talkia' slow like, 4 jest as you plesse; but my wife sha'n't make so free with Brod- man.' 4 Better wait till you git your wife,' I spit out, and jumped out of the shay, and run inter the house e'en- a'raost afore he could draw up. All the evenin' 1 was dreadful cool to him, and smilin' to Brodman; and the cool­ er Joe looked and the sterner he sot his mouth, the more I laughed and carried on. He didn't come a-qigh me only once, and then to ask was I ready to go hum. I said 4 yes,' keerless like; but I meant to make it all up goin' hym. When the wagins come to the door, I started on ahead, and Jumped Into a shay standin' there. Joe had drove a black hoss, so I was sure it was his'n; but pretty soon I heerd a wagin drive off as if the ole boy and all was arter it. Somebody come and jumped into my wagin; and who should it be but Frank Brodman! I guess I was pretty still all *he way hum, 1 was sfcart 'most to death, but kep' a-sayin' tq myself I would tell Joe hoW I had made a mistake, as 1 had tole Brodman as soon as sot foot in the shay. 441 had forgot how proud Joe was. He never come anigh the-house agin, though I sot and watched and waited and listened nights together, thinkin' I heerd his step in the wind, and was all of a trimble every time the door- latch rattled, till father would rake up the fire and send us all to bed. I ought- er have gone right up to him the very next time I see him at meetin' and said, 4 Joe, I made a mistake,' and he was food enough hearted to make it all up; ut no, I let him pass, tryin' to look keerless like, and by spring I heerd he was keepin' company with Sara Hitch­ cock at Peru. Well, they was merried th^ next summer. I dunno how happy they be, though. » 4>I didn't have much time to think of my troubles. People worked in them davs. What withchumin,' an1 quiltin', an' weavin', an' doin' up the iall an' spring sewin', beside the house-work, there warn't much time to cry; but somehow I never found nobody to take Joe's place, and I dropped out of the frolics and dances. Arter my sisters was all merried, folk begun to call me an ole maid. I might have got mer­ ried, to good providers too, but they warn't Joe. »So you see what I've come to--jest livin' round from pillar to post, a-tendin' other folks' children, when I might 'a had sons and daughters of my own. Dear, dear! gals is dreadful foolish. If they vrattld only lam by other folks' troubles! But they don't, and they won' t as long as the Lord keeps ono on them on the foot,stool, Annie, be voti asleep?" "No indeed, auntie. I have heard every word. I guess every one alirost has days they wish they could live aver." ;*<• :v • > ' 44 Likely; but go to sleep. You'll be white as skim milk in the mornin'." Miss Antiss put out the light, got into bed, and lying motionless, breathing hard and regularly, soon was not sur­ prised to hear a low sobbing and feel the shaking of the bed by the efforts a stalwart, sui^- Annie made to suppress her tears. • and left it oil jtbe stage. "Wl dat Beeff" See the Ca tire* at the head *f the local He dreams talks )n his the burden of hit) song If Pickles!" Young man go slot * gar wi!l «o«tr on your stomacb! ..Read the irotiee of hause acres of land for Rfeat, to bs ^^columa, • f > u i ' . ' * - *itlt IENJOY L1FB. ',s What- a truly beantiAil Bye fu! Nature gives us g ing. ' Farmer Ford burned man, whose kindly Brown eye|Mi, 11 to beamed a much warmer welcome thai prjme< his quiet 441 hope I see you well, AuifjIn_e(j* Ann." * Supper passed off in a more gener^0®!"* 13i conversation, in which Miss Antiti took her own large share; and siek were farmers retire early, the night was n< boxes*-- very old when Annie and Aunt Arie |t . were shut up in the spire room t£ gether. To have a . quiet taf : with Annie had been Miss Anti#®**® '* chief reason for riding seven milj t» 13c.; in the hot sun day; %>ut si £• 13o,; made herself ready for- bed in ' ta Ifty ; iiiiasually silent mood, nor did si j speak, until, awful and Wonderful in jre are tnree-storied n|ght-cap and fa frill < have- her night-gown collar that reached jtayed the end oi her shoulders, she perchw we herself on a chair by the bed whe^ per. Annie was lying with her pretty halor^ spread over the pillows. ^ - 44 Visitin' at the Union • and .t&ikisii, Rli about old times makes mfr feel scr losing some like. What a wild thing I way when I was a girl! It don't seem as ef anybody could sober down as I have sence. Did you ever wonder, niece, when you've neerd me tell how many beaux I've had, how 1 came to be an ole maid? Well, somehow, I feel just like tellin' about it to-night. 44 When I was eighteen I kep compa­ ny with Joe Edwards--that's Squire Edwards down to the 4 Corners,' him that owns the saw-mill. I was real good-lookin' in, them days. You favor me, Annie; but, then, there's nothing like havin' to fight your own way in this world to dry up a woman's blood. My! whatadanoe l led thatfellarl I that mountains, glens and oceans, lids ef means for enjoyment, desire no better when In pejrfe |^nt how often do the ma)arlt pie feel like giving It up dti dUCouraged and worried out, ease, when there Ik ^o a brown-study. A sudden impulse made Miss Antiss call 44 Whoa!" and Jennie, always ready, for that request, stood still. She was in for it now, she thought, as the young man raised his hat and checked his horse. 44 Good-day, Henry, flow's y^hr mother?" 44 Very well, Miss Antiss. She was wondering the other day, why you have not'been to see us in so long. ' 44 I've been away"--briefly. > "Be you pressed for time?"--suddenly. 44 No, not at all. Can 1 be of any service?" 441 dun no about service, but I wish you would ride on to Ford's to see him. that new-fangled grass seed vbiit I don't beliewa he'U git round to it to-day. It would ease ins mind wonderful, 'i1™ g°,Miss Antiss *--looking a "ttle ghfaver than before. «*Good- ftioming," and he rode on,* ' 44 There, Ann Antiss, db yon snptoOM the Lord will ever forgive you that ue f Jacob's 'most to the Ferry by this time. But I'll resk this one. If they'll only happen to git a-talkin', Annie '11 re­ member what I tol' her last night. She's a good forgivin' gal, too. Whan I git home I'll look up that reoeipt for weddin' oake. I fe*I it in my Ws like enough we'll be a-wantin' it afore lone." Meanwhile Harry Jackson on. but so slowly that it was nearly noon befwe he tied his horse in front of the Fords' gate. Knocking on the door with his whip, ho stoodf thinking, half in-pain, half in anger, of the last time he had stood there with Annie; but he was a proud fellow, and, biting his lip, looked stern and Indifferent enough when the uoor was opened, and Annie, her hands full of roses, stood before him. They both started, and Annie dropped half her flowers. 4 * Good-morning, Miss Ford. Is your father at home?" Harry wondered at tha formal tone and. sound of his voice when his heart was beating so .wildly in Ms throat, at the sight of Annie's sweet face, npw crimson with blushes. Yes. Will you walk is?--that is to say, No--I mean--" But Annie could get no farther. She covered her face with her trembling fingers, and burst into tears. 46 Why, what does this mean?" Com­ ing into the hall and shutting the door, Harry stood before Annie in the gloom of the hall. 441 am very sorry if the sight of me is so unpleasant it forces you to cry so bitterly. Sit down here" --drawing a chair up, and leaning dangerously near the pretty rippling hair and slight trembling figure. 44 Harry--Mr. Jackson--I must ex­ plain something now while I have the opportunity. I aever received your note inviting me to the picnic till a whole week afterward. Sam carried it in his pocket all that time." 44 A whole weekl And that was the reason you went with Morgan, and never sent me a single word as an ex­ cuse. It made me think very hard things of you, Annie. But why didn't you tell me when we met at the Lanes' partv?" • " B ec ause--beoauso you looked and acted as if you did not care, and 1 did not want you to think that I did." 44 Ah, but 1 did care, and I have not 'had a really happy moment since, I have been so miserable. Annie, dear one, will you forgive me?" kneeling down to draw the little fingers away from the tear-stained face. 44 Look at me, love, and tell me you will take me back again, and I'll bless every wrinkle in Aunt Ann's face the longest day I liW."; Young Mrs. Jackson, with a very be- com lng;l lush on her' bright' face, was entertaining Miss Ann Antiss for the first time at her new home. All the glory of paint and paper the old home­ stead had received, all the new furni­ ture, had been exhibited and admired before the two sat down in the pretty east room, gay with the tasteful ar­ rangement of wedding presents that Annie called her own, when suddenly young Mrs. Jackson startled Miss Antiss into dropping a whole row of knitting by saying: 44 Aunt Ann" how did it happen that Harry came to the farm that morning just after you had gone away, and how did it happen that he had you to bless for sending him there?" 44 Oh, as for that," said Aunt Ann, leaning back and beginning to rock very hard--44 he tol' you, did lie? Well, he might have kep' it to himself, 1 think. But I ain't a mite sorry I sent him, and I don't believe you we nei­ ther." And she did not look so at all when she put her arms around Miss Antiss' neck, and pressed soft, thankful kisses on hor with^rrd ^hcck. -- Harper's Bamr. . , Glass. •'- * 1' » '-4- "* - "Ml •- & tfce' iteftfimia,'Prof, Rloard; of Trchewan, tell® the following tale; 44 A child's drinking-glass was bought one day at Saaz, for about seventy kreutzer, and for six months it sustained its char­ acter of unbreakable glass. But about nine o'clock one evening, in the sixth month, it was used in drinking eau sucre, and was then plaeed, with a sil­ ver spoon in it, upon a large oaken table. Suddenly I heard from my room a violent explosion like a pistol-shot and a metallic sound. I ran in and saw the whole floor strewn with needles and splinters of glass, scattered thinly and widely--and not only upon the floor, but the bed, the table, tne wash- stand, the carpet and the clothes hung up were covered with these shreds. I I looked everywhere for the cause of this explosion, and at last remarked that the child's drinking-cup was gone. The empty glass had exploded--with­ out apparent cause, without the ap­ proach of a light, and having a spoon in it--with such extraordinary force that the whole household was fright­ ened. I relate this story, therefore, not onlv for the information of chemists and natural philosophers, but also of those families who believe that in this so-called unbreakable glass they pos­ sess remarkable and unspoilable play­ things or useful household goods, to show them that when such an explosion occurs it may cause not only fright but mischief." To the foregoing the editor of the Polyleehnichen Nolizblalts adds that such explosions of toughened glass, often without any apparent cause, have been pretty frequent, of late, and appear to be on the increase. ^-British Journal of Photograph*. --King Alfonso spends hours and hours talking with his bride by tele­ phone. A year from this date he will probably hire a lightning-rod man to run his end Of the machine while he loafs at the club--and she will have her chambermaid instructed to keep the thing going while she reads Daudet's novels.--fifty (My Derrick. Hana«liig ̂ 44 MANAGING mammas" is a plflrilft of satirio import applied to ipojlsim who are presumed to be of«H»ii|#«is and unduly ambitious to desira­ ble matches for their daughters. It Is employed so vaguely and so ii " inately as to have very little and very little justice, but it always Conveys, or is at least intended to con­ vey, a degree of reproach. Hardly anV woman with marriageable daughters, whether one or several, can escape Una imputation of being a manager. Not to oe so labeled or libeled--tne words as used are nearly svnonomous--she must keep aloof from ner daughter Or daughters in society, and whoUy neg- Wt the d»ity wMc?» she manifestly owes them. Even then it is questionable if she will not be accused of doing mora in a matrimonial w&y by appearing to do less; it is only a deeper art, It wffi be said; it is some new rose she is prac­ ticing to render more certain wlmt she assumes to be indifferent to* Thus, v hether she manages or does not man­ age, whether she likes management or detests it. she is by common report h manager all the same. Every mother of any fafr-f ttits has daughters in society is naturally sensitive to the suspicion to which she is aware she is incessantly liable. She instinotively shrinks from it, while she knows she cannot shun it, and is there­ fore placed in a perpetually awkwaxd and embarrassing position. By trying to avoid it, many mothers go to the op­ posite extreme, surrendering such su­ pervision and direction of their girls as are simply prudent and proper, and they often have occasion to rue their premeditated remissness. The people who talk so muoh of managing mammas would seem to be­ lieve that the first obligation of a mother, when she has a marriageable daughter, is to remain it> absolute ignoranoe of her daughter's masouline acquaintances and assooiates. to have no preference for men of character, re­ finement and reputation over men frivolous, vulgar and dishonorable, and to be totally regardless of the kind of a husband she may elect. Should a mother fail to show interest in her girl's matrimonial prospects, should she permit her to be introduced to young men of soiled name or of no worth, she will be far more sharply criticised, and very deservedly, than she can be for any amount of the most act­ ive and obvious management. She has ever to steer between Scylla and Cha­ ry bdis; if she avoids one, she is pretty certain to go to pieces on the othet. She muse choose between entire reok- lessness of her daughter's wedded hap­ piness, and the name of an unflagging contriver and manipulator in her con­ nubial interest. If sne be a. true woman and a good mother, she will not hesi­ tate. Her girl's safety, establishment in life and future contentment will pre­ vail with her over any apprehension oi scandalous or censorious tongues. To be a manager is, after all, an error--to style it such--in the right direction. Any mother had better be too careful than too careless, had better take her daughter's peace and prosperity too much to heart than too little, had better be very earnest and untiring in pro­ ducing a certain conjugal result taan heedless In observing the drift of ooflfc- promising circumstances. ^ Managing mammas are generally ac­ cused of exerting their peculiar ability and influence in behalf of (expected!) rich sons-in-law, irrespective of any other consideration. Were this true, many of the harsh things said of then might be extenuated, if not excused, but it is not true of any number of mothers, who are called mana­ gers when they are suspected of wanting any kind of son-in-law. So many men, especially very young men, are afflicted with conceit, coxcombry, or egotism, or all three together, that they are apt to imagine that mothers cherish designs upon them, when the mothers would not annex them to the family on any account. Rebuked for their pretension or insolence, they com­ fort their wounded vanity by deolariqg that their treatment is due to their un­ willingness to propose, as was evident­ ly the maternal determination that they should. They are fond of closing their expressed grievance by .assorting man's right to choose Ms own mother- in-law, and their unshaken resolution not to be dragooned into matrimony by any woman alive* They seldom have any faith in their own averments, for they know far better than they could be persuaded to confess that as sons-in-law of any mamma, managing or otherwise, they would be supremely ineligible. !' Most of the talk and cheap satire about managing mammas is in this country downright impertinence. Women who are really such, in the full and offensive meaning ordinarily at­ tached to the words, are not admirable nor always estimable, though some­ thing might be said in their defense, but there are really very few of them. The majority are coinage of the brain or creatures of cynicism. The men who imagine that mothers and their daugh­ ters are angling for them would be lets unjust and less foolish if they knew that neither those mothers nor those daughters, supposing them _ to be ad­ dicted to marito-piscatorial sports, could be induced to fish in such shal­ low streams. Instead of too many managing mammas, in the loose, mere­ ly satiric sense, we have not enough of them in the Republic. American moth­ ers, as a rule, are notoriously careless about their daughters' matrimonial prospects and possibilities. They need, in a rational way, to manage more than they have done or are likely to do In. many years to oome.--Harper19 fiacar. --At Memphis. Tenn., a few morn­ ings ago, a negro called at the Jail, and demanded permission to see a comrade confined there. Jailer Dawson refused, and the negro began abusing him in a violent manner, and Dawson, drawing a revolver, fired; but, missing the hegro, the ball went through the glass door of Cornelius Griffiths grocety, eorner of Overton and Front streets, some 200 yards distant, and struck Mr. Grilling just below the heart, as he waa standing in the room. He turned and ran into an adjoining room, and, falling into the arms of his wife, exc* ^ Katie, I'm Irjtljndr' soone b I : i**«. Hi • I * i>t€ .... i *• * ̂4- J ?! - m -a ' lS,** > 1 « 't 'j - ^ H J.I