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1. VHRtLVNK. C«tor iM Publisher. 1 r" - ILLINOIS. CVIT19t'» I.AfIT CHARGE. Sfw stimxiAM name with ago ; iJ4, On History's page Shall shine Wto» greater glRSiu" And baniw Anil t«U 1 How Custer fell, ; » « And sing tit* thrilling story1. ^ O'er the billowy breast i - ^ Of the savage West Bit bugle's echoes floated; And the troopers all At the martial call, -S. _ S^tKng light to the task denoted.. ,i >•>#?<* 'neath the noontide tilt Went the trampling feet,.; Daikni^s stayed the column^ h o the valley deep v i XVhere the rednien slrep By the Big Horn, wild and aofeMUL With sudden flash-- ; • The sabres flash-- What though the foe outnumoir, So the field be won. "V Ere set of sun i And the night-owl wake from dumlMtCf Bnt the camp outspewed f ; j Its savage brood, | ' Andthe locust swarm, expaartlng, > Was a blast from hell ; That withering Jell, ' ' llw lives of R11 demanding. -1 The ensanguined sun When the day was done^ Want down in crimson glor| And the pale moon's " Flung silvery gleanis la the eyes of corpses gory, ' To the field of death Cfime the night wind's breath. O'er the silent prairie creeping, And wailing loud . Drew the battle shroud Stem the forms with Custer sleeping. Ijike a mighty shield Lav the smitten fieid, Its bloody blazon bearing. And the stars grew dim At the legend grim Stamped deep by human While a soldier's fall At his country 's call Shall on his name shed lustef* „ The tongues ef men And the jioet's pen *11 tell the tale of Custer. ife' Stranger to Canada, I think you said. #irst visit to Ontario? Well, you're heartily welcome to Indian Creek. Take a chair on the piazza till dinner's ready--we dine early in these new- world parts. k Fine farm? "Well, yes; Indian Creek h a nice place--grass-land, corn fields, %oods and creeks--all belong to it. .Stock, too--they call it the best-stocked farm in Ontario, I believe, and I dare ry they're right. All mine; and yet came to Canada twelve years ago without even a traditional half crown In my trousers pocket. You look sur­ prised. Would you like to hear the litory ? There's a good half hour to din- ®er-time yet, and it's a story I never fire of telling, somehow. 1 began life as the son of a village j|arpp>nter in the south of England. Ton know that class pretty well, I dare 'fay, and what a gulf was fixed between " i»e and the vicar of the parish. And Jet--and yet--from the time she was * years old and I 11, and she fell down in the dusty road outside the carpen­ ter's shop, and cried, and I picked her ' lip and smoothed the little crumpled "pinafore and kissed the dust out of her 4$olden curls, I loved but one girl in the .fForld, and that was the vicar's daugh- ' -|er, Winny Branscome. , Madness, you'll say. Well, perhaps 3§o, and yet a man is bnt a man, and a Droman is a woman; and love comes, Whatever one may da There's no class distinction recognized by childhood, fnd we were playmates and friends till he went to boarding-school. If Miss Winny had had a mother, no doubt fhing would have been different; but 'lire were alike in never having known a Roman's care, and the old vicar was %hnd to everthing bat his theologieal _(#reatises. But when she came back from her tJLondon boarding-school a beautiful jroung lady, all smiles and lace and lit­ tle lovely ways--then I knew. I had - tried my best to study and work and ipake myself more like the men sbe Vould meet; bnt what can a lad in an English village do? I just had enough education to make every other lad in the S'.ace hate me, and beside the men of er world I suppose I cut rather an as­ tonishing figure. Yet the love of her •as so beyond all else in me, that mad, feopeless as I felt it, I had no power fver myself, and the first time I caught er alone in the woods--she avoided pie, I saw, and I had to watch for a . gthance--I told her the whole story and f""'raited for her answer. She grew scar- et--a rush of color that dyed her fair A#weet face--then deadly white. "Dick," she said, and she was trem- / ' tiling from head to foot, "you know it can never, never be; you know you are wrong even to think of such a "thing. . Borne girls would think it an insult--I Jmow you better; but if my father heard : . bf this he would say you had abused |his kindness to you; he would never forgive you. Forget your madness." And she ran from me. ! I let her go. I had seen the blush -and the tremor, and I guessed that if I had been Mr. Loftus, the young 'Squire, instead of Dick Hawtry, the carpenter's son, her answer might have been dif­ ferent. A great resolve sprang up jn my soul, and I took a solemn vow in those June woods. That very night I sold the old shop (my father was dead, and I had taken to the business), and with the money I bought an outfit and started straight for Canada. It was pretty tough work at first, but I worked like a galley-slave--starved and pinched, and saved, and never spent a cent on myself except for the books I sat up half the night to read and study. , Well, in this country a man who works and doesn't drink is sure to get on; and I had a mighty purpose in my head. By-and-by I bought some lancl : dirt cheap, and sold it for three times what I gave for it--then I began to make money fast. I should call my . luck wonderful if I believed in luck, and didn't prefer to think I was helped by a power far abler than my own. - At last, ten years to the day after I set - ^ foot on Canadian soil, I bought Indian Creek farm, and began to build this ' " house. All the neighbors thought my good fortune had turned my brain, for I fitted it up and furnished it for a lady, down to a little rocking-chair by my study table, and a work-basket with . a tiny gold thimble in it. And when all that was finished I took the first - ship for Liverpool. ; Ten years builds a city over here. It , doesn't make much difference in a Devonshire village. The very gates were still half off their hinges, as I left . them, only the people were a little •older and a trifle more stupid; and there was a new vicar. Old Mr. Brans- come had been dead six months; died •very poor, they told me; there was nothing left for Miss Winny. My heart gave one great leap when 1 heard that And Miss Winny? Oh, she had gone governessing with some people who were just oft to panada, and the ship sailed to-morrow4 trtsii Liverpool. TheLiverpool exprew&ever seemed to crawl so slowly before; I got there to find every berth taken on board the Antarctic, and the Captain raging at the non-appearance of two of the crew. Without a second's pause I offered for one of the vacant places. I was as strong as a horse, and active enough, and though Ike Captain eyed me rather askanoe--I had been to a West End tailor on my way through London--he was too glad to get me to ask any ques­ tions. So I sailed on the ship with my girl, little as she knew it I saw her the first day or two, looking so pale and thin that she was like the ghost of her old self, and yet sweeter to my eyes than ever before. The children she had charge of were troublesome little creatures, who worried and badg­ ered her till I longed to cuff them well. But there was a gentleness and a patience quite new to my idea of Miss Winny, and I only loved her the more for it After the second day out the wind freshened, and I saw no more of her. We had an awfnl passage. It was late in November--an early winter, an^ the cold was intense. It blew one con­ tinuous gale, and some of our ma­ chinery was broken--the screw dam­ aged--and we could not keep our course. As we drew near the other side of the Atlantic we got more out of our bearings, and at last the fogs told ns we were somewhere off the Banks of Newfoundland, bnt where no one was quite sure. It seemed to me it had all happened before, or I had read it or dreamed it At all events, it was hardly a surprise to me when, on the tenth night, just after 'midnight, the awful crash and shock took place--a sensation which no one who has not felt it can imagine in the least--and we knew that the Antarctic had struck. It's a fearful thing, if you come to think of it; a great steamer filled with living souls in the full flow of life and health, and in one moment the call coming to each of them to die. Before you could have struck a match the whole ship was in a panic--cries, ter­ ror, confusion, agony. O, it was awful! I trust never to see such a scene again. I made my way through it all as if I had neither eyes nor ears, and got to the stateroom I had long ago found out was the one which belonged to m.v girl. I knocked at the door with a heavy hand; even at that awfnl moment a thrill ran through me at the thonght of standing face to face with her again. "Winny! I cried, "come out I make haste! there is not a moment to lose!" The door opened as I spoke, and she stood just within, ready dressed, even to her little black hat. The cabin light had been left burning,by the doctor's or­ ders, and it fell full on me as I stood there in my sailor's jersey and cap. I wondered if she would know me. I for­ got the danger we were in--forgot that death was waiting close at hand--for­ got that the world held any but just her and me. "Dick!" she cried, "Oh, Dick, Dick!" and she fell forward in a dead faint on my shoulder. All my senses came back then; and I threw her over my arm and ran for the deck. A great fur-lined cloak had been dropped by the door of the ladies' cabin. There was no light, but I stumbled over it as I ran. 1 snatched it up and carried it with me. Up above ail was in the wildest chaos; the boats were over-filled and pushing off; the ship was settling rap­ idly ; people shouting, crying, swearing. One hears tales of calmness, and courage often enongh at such times, which make one's heart grow as one reads them; but there was not much heroism shown in the wreck of the A ntarctic. The Captain behaved splen­ didly, and BO did some of the passen­ gers, but the majority of them, with the crew, were mad with terror, and lost their headB together. I saw there was no chance for the over-crowded boats in the sea, and I sprang for the rigging. I was not a second too soon; a score of others fol­ lowed my example, and with my pre­ cious burden I should np^ have had a chance two minutes later. As it was, I scrambled to the topmast, and got a firm hold there. Winny was just com­ ing to herself. I had wrapped her round like a baby in the fur cloak, and with my teeth I opened my knife to cut a rope which hung loose within reach. Witli this I lashed her to me, and fas­ tened us both to the topmast. The ship sank gradually; she did not keel over, or I should not be here telling you the story now; she settled down, just her deck above water, but the great sea washed over it every second, and swept it clean. The boats had gone! One or two of the crew, floating on loose spars, werp picked up afterward --no mora The rigging was pretty full, at least in the upper part; down below the sea was too strong. The Captain was near me. I felt glad to think he had been saved--he was not a coward like some of the others. How long was the longest night you ever knew? Multiply that by a thou­ sand and you will have some idea of that night's length. The cold was aw­ ful. The spray froze on the sheets as it fell, the yards were slippery with ice. I stamped on Winny's feet to keep them from freezing. Did you notice that I limp a little? I shall walk lame us long as I live. Sometimes there was a splash in the black water below, as some poor fellow's stiffened hold re­ laxed, and he fell from his place in the rigging. There was not a breath of wind, nothing but the bitter, bitter fog. How long could we hold out ? Where were we? How long would the ship be before she broke up? Would it be by drowning or by freezing? We asked ourselves the«e questions again and again, but there was no answer. Death stared us in the face ; we seemed to live ages of agony in every minute and yet, will you believe me, that all seemed little in comparison to the thought that after all the struggles and the sorrows, after all those ten long weary years, I held my girl in my arms at last? She had pulled one corner of the cloak around my neck (I stood on a level just below her), and her hand lay there with it--it was the hand that warmed me more than the cloak--and her cheek rested against my own Often I thought its coldness was the coldness of death, and almost exulted in the thought that wexshould die to­ gether. And then I would catch the murmur of the prayers she was utter­ ing for us both, and know that life was there still, and hope lived, too. Well, well! Why should I dwell on such horrors, except to thank the Mer­ cy that brought us through them all? Day dawned at last; and there was the shore near by, and soon rockets were fired, and ropes secured, and one by one the half-dead living were drawn from their awful suspension between sky and sea, and landed safe on shore. They had to take Winny and me to­ gether, just as we were, and even then they h«l hsrd work to undo the clasp of my stiffened arms «hout IM*. I knew nothing then, nor for long after, and it is wonderful that Winny was the first to recover, and that It was she who nursed me back to life and reason. And how did I ask her to marry me? Upon my word, now yon ask, I can't remember that I ever did. That seemed utterly unnecessary, somehow. Caste distinctions look small enongh when you have been.staring death in the face for a few hours; and words were not much needed after we had been together in the rigging that night Somehow I was glad it was so; glad my girl had taken me, in my cap and jersey, for a common sailor, and yet loved the old Dick through it all; glad that she never dreamed that I was ownet of Indian Creek farm, and the richest man in that end of Ontario, and had wealth, and a position higher than Mr. Loftus, the young 'Squire at home. The people she was with had all gone down that awful night; she had no one' in the world but me. We were mar­ ried at Montreal--the Captain of the Antarctic gave her away--and then I brought her home to Indian Creek. To see her face when she saw the rock­ ing-chair, and the work-basket, and the thimble! Heaven bless her! There she comes with her baby on her shoulder. Come in to dinner, friend, and you'shall see the sweetest wife in the new country or the old-- the girl I won amid the ocean's surges. Japanese flower Gardening. Among the Japanese the lovo of flowers and plants is an absorbing passion. In the smallest of dwellings there is an altai-like niche, in or upon which flowering plants are arranged, but they have in some districts a most remarkable custom in connection with window gardening. In houses wherein reside one or more daughters of a marriageable age, an empty flower-pot of an ornamental character is encircled by a ring, and suspended from the window or veranda by three light chains. Now, the Juliets of Japan are of course attractive, and their Bomeos as love-sick as those of other lands. But instead of serenades by moonlight and other delicate ways of making an im­ pression, it is etiquette for the Japa­ nese lover to approach the dwelling of his lady, bearing some choice plant in his hand, which he boldly, bnt, let ns hope, reverently, proceeds to plant in the empty vase. This takes place at a time when he is fully assured that both mother and daughter are at home, and 1 need scarcely say neither of them are at all conscious that the young man is taking such a liberty with the flower pot outside of their window. It is be­ lieved that a young lover BO engaged has never been seen by the lady or her mamma in this act of sacrilege; at any rate, a friend tells me that, during his long residence in Japan, he never heard of anyone being detected in, the act or interfered with in any way. The fact is, this act of placing a pretty plant into the empty flower-pot is equivalent to a formal proposal to the young lady who dwells within. The youthful gardener, having settled his plant to his mind, retires, and the lady is free to act as she pleases. If he is the right man, she takes every care of his plant, waters it, and tends it carefully with her own hands, that all the world may see and know that the donor is accepted as a suitor. But if he is not a favorite, or if stern par­ ents object, the plant is removed frOm the vase, and the next morning finds it withered on the veranda, or on the path below. In a word, if you are not the right man, it >is evident that this phase of window gardening must be a difficult and disappointing one to carry on in Japan.--F. IT. Burbridge. Eclipses of tlie Sun. * Site eclipses of the sun are earned by the moon's passing between the earth and the sun. If the two bodies fol­ lowed the same track in the heavens there would be an eclipse every new moon, but as the orbits are inclined, the moon generally passes above or be low the sun, and there is no eclipse. Occasionally the sun is near one of the moon's nodes--the points were the planes of the orbits intersect--when it passes, and then an ellipse odOurs. If the sun and the moon were always at the same position with regard to the earth, and always the samo distance from it, the eclipses would always be of the same size. Brit as these condi­ tions vary, so do the appearances ot the eclipse, for instance, let us sup­ pose that at the time of an eclipse the cecter of the moon happens to pass di­ rect over the center of the Bun. If the moon is near the point in the orbit which is at the least distance from the earth her apparent diameter will ex­ ceed that of the sun, and the latter will be quite hidden from view, and we have what is known as a total eclipse. Of course, even in this case, the eclipse will only appear total to the observers near the line joining the centers of the sun and moon. If, however, the three bodies occupy similar positions, but the distance between the earth and moon is greater, the whole of the sun is not covered by the moon, and the eclipse is annular. If the moon, how ever, does not pass centrally over the sun, it can only hide a part of the latter on one side or the other, and the eclipse is said to be partial. As the moon's orbit is qnite elliptical, the dis­ tance of that body from the earth varies greatly. Its least distance is 2*21,000 miles, its greatest 259,600 miles. Inter-Ocean. The Character of Haydn. Haydn was a man who made the most of his gilts. He was never satisfied, and always strove to reach a higher ideal. He once said: "I have, only just learned in my old age to use the wind-instruments, and now that I do understand them I must leave the world." He composed so much that one would think he wrote quickly, but such was not the case. When an idea occurred to him, he would note it in a little book that he always carried with him, and afterward he would work it over with the greatest care. He felt his genius was a gift from God which he must use for the good of others, "God has given me talent," he said "and I thank Him for it. I think lliave done my duty, and have been of use in nay generation." In writing for the pianoforte, he paid great attention to the melody, which renders his works equally interesting tt> young and old They are always fresh and cheerful, and are often founded on some little romance or incident. Haydn did so much for musical composition, especi­ ally the symphony, and was so genial and kind to his fellow-musicians, end so fond of children, that in hw later years he was always called "Papa Haydn." The name is still frequently used in referring to hiai.--^Agi$tha Tunis, in St Nicholas. "I , . > • .u * . it •' ^ IT .requires a man of,goo& MPM to fall in love with4*- plain woman. .«1. > ' HOW A CIRCUS IS BDN. The "CknMMWl" «f the Show--Hludjrinff the Konte-ythc Army of Employes. Each circus has its General. Talk to him of any city or town in the conn- try, and the thought immediately oc­ curs to him: "Ah, yes; a town of #2,000 ($5,000, $10,000, or $12,000, as the case may be), profit." He knows almost to a unit the population, and how much can be made out of it He knows, also the character of the inhab­ itants, and be is acquainted thoroughly with the railroad and other facilities for getting into the place. He maps out the route at the beginning of the season, of course changing it as much as possible every year. There are twenty-four advance agents, who follow each other in rotation. They look after the advertising, the provender for the animals, the lodgings, and contracts of various kinds. These agents are provided with checks. They give checks on the show for the amounts contracted for. The Treasurer takes up and pays the ohecks, so that when the show arrives it has no trouble in any direction. It has happened a few times that the firm has been swindled, but it never refuses to honor a check, "to keep up the credit of the circus." Not one of the great exchanges in New York is better posted as to the mone­ tary condition of any town or city than the managers of the circus. The cir­ cus managers well know it is useless going into a place wherq there is much oommercial depression. The charac­ teristics of a town are stndied before going into it. For instance, it is known when the miners of Pittsburgh are paid off, and right on top of the event, comes the "show." It very rarely hap­ pens that a miscalculation is made, but if money is lost anywhere that place is given a wide berth next season. The weather, too, is watched almost as carefully as it is by the Signal Serv­ ice Bureau. The circus never goes farther south than Omaha, Kansas City, and St Louis, or farther north than St. Paul, Minnesota. There is no money outside of those limits. The great aim of the circus is to strike fair weather everywhere. When it is ex­ tremely cold in the North the circus is enjoying the warmth of the South and the dollars of the genial southerners. When it becomes too hot in the £^nth then it wends its way in the opposite direction. Morever. it never attempts to compete with a cheaper entertain­ ment If Barnum is billed for Marvs- ville, Mississippi, and a 25 cent show gets ahead of it, the big circus passes on. The General knows, too, bow long it is profitable to stay in a town. The army of employes is divided into five divisions--the performers, the ring attendants, the stable, and menag­ erie attendants, the trainmen (in circus parlance "razor-backs"), and the can- vasmen. The canvasmen number 200 out of 700--a large number, but not too many to cope \»ith the huge tent which is put up in the country. On the trains there is a. special place for everything and everybody. Indeed, the trainmen could load the train al­ most blindfolded, the arrangement are so precise, and have been so long in smooth-working order. The canvas- men are the first to be packed off. They touch nothing until the team­ sters have arrived on the ground with the canvas, and then, when the tent is up, they sit down and just watch the others "doing their bit" So it is with the trainmen when they have loaded or unleaded the cars, they "will not put a hand to anvthin*else, and perhaps if they did tliey ^gflbd be only in the way. Every employe in a special duty to perform, and doCT not consider himself engaged for anything outside of that One of the heaviest items in the ex­ penses is the bill for advertising. The huge colored posters seen everywhere in the vicinity of the Bhow are costly. The advertisement bill in the season averages $2,700 daily. Yet the ex­ penditure results in a good return. The salaries vary all the way from $10 to $500 a wrek. What! a circus per­ former with an income equal to five times that of the. Secretary of State ? "Ah, but recollect," says the circus man, "that this does not last all the year round. Recollect, too, the risks that are run. If a limb is broken, then the occupation of the performer is gone, and if he or she has not saved enough for a rainy day, poverty is the result. These high-priced performers also have to engage others to assist them, and sometimes t.be engagement of quite a family. The 'stars' provide their own costumes and apparatus."-- New York Herald. An Incident of the Revolutionary War. After the defeat of the American troops at Oriskany, St Leger and his Indian allies advanced against Fort Schuyler. Benedict Arnold was imme­ diately sent forward with a division to the relief of the fort. He was to wait at Fort Lamed for reinforcements ad­ vancing by another route, before march­ ing upon the enemy; but,hearing upon his arrival there that Fort Schuyler was already besieged, he planned to scatter the Indian allies of the British by a strategem. He had recently cap­ tured a notorious Tory, Walter Butler, who was supposed to be a spy, and with him several other Tories. Among them was a nephew of General Herki­ mer, named Hon-Yost Schuyler, a lout­ ish young fellow, supposed to be dull of intellect. Butler had been sent as a prisoner on to Albany, but young Schuyler had been tried in the *camp and condemned to be shot His mother came to Arnold to intercede for her son's life, and the General agreed to spare him on condition that he would go forward and endeavor, by extrava­ gant reports, to create a stampede among the Indian allies of the British. This Hon-Yost promised to do, and, having a number of bullet holes shot through his clotlies, set out with a friendly Oneida Indian for the British earn p. Every Indian they chanced to meet they assured that the Americans were coming with a countless array of men and guns. The two parted some (•stance from the camp, approaching it by different roads. Hon-Yost then ran in among the Indians, all out of breath, apparently very much fright­ ened, gasping that a great army of Americans was coining, and that lie had been obliged to flee for his life. When asked the number of the troops he poiutell to the leaves on the trees, to indicate that tliey were beyond his power to compute. The Indians were greatly alarmed, and, when the Oneida came in by another road with the same story, and others, who had become ter­ rified by the rumors spread by Hon' Yost and his companion on their ap­ proach, came straggling in to repeat the same tale, amplified by their im agination, declaring that the whole valley was swarming with warriors, the alarm became terror. The mani- tow of the tribes was consulted, and flight was agreed upon. Nothing that George St Leger could door say made any impression on the panic-stricken tribes, who precipitately left the camp, sfckrciely pausing to carry ^rftfc theui their accoutftments of war. The Brit­ ish General, finding himself nearly de­ serted, was forced to raise the siege and retr&t northward into Canada before Arnold appeared on th« scene.-- Inter-Ocean. An Old Soldier's Story. "The old army Bhoe," said a slender, dark-haired man, "was a great institu­ tion. I have a pair at home that 1 have preserved, not as a memento of any long march, but as a landmark in a venturous life. It was a custom among the poorly-shod Confederate troops to remove, after a battle, the shoes from the dead Union soldiers. This was not done in any spirit of van­ dalism or heartlessness. The shoes were taken off to supply men who had much marching to do in inclement weather. We simply changed old, worn- out shoes for the good ones worn by those who fell in battle. "On one occasion I took a pair of nicely-polished No. 6s from the body of a man who must have been in life a model soldier. I had worn these shoe* with great comfort through the four or five remaining days of activity incident to the battle before I had any oppor­ tunity to examine them carefully. When we wefo again in permanent camp and were ^alloWed to remove our cartridge boxes and shoes at night, I made a startling discovery, or rather I was greatly startled by a discovery that I made one morning as I took up the shoes to put'them on. "On the under side of the flap, or tongue, was written, in a clear, round hand, my owrwname. I was confident that I had never written it there, but there, on both shoes, were the initials and my family name, and I had taken those shoes, four days before, from the feet of a man killed in battle. The in­ ference was that I had stolen the Bhoes of a man related to me in some way. I could not pat them on. I walked in my stocking feet to the commissary de­ partment, secured a pair of new shoes, and I have the other shoes yet. "The affair troubled me for «, long time. I had no opportunity for mak­ ing satisfactory inquiry in* regard to the man who bore my name, but in due time 1 did learn that there was no fam­ ily relations whatever. He had come to this country from England, and had been in the country only a few months when the war broke out. He enlisted through a spirit of adventure, and I was the means of giving his relatives definite information as to his fate. The only evidence I had bearing on points in which they were interested was a pair of old army shoes."--Inter-Occan. Stealing from American Authors. Writing on the subject of Interna­ tional Copyright fifteen years ago, Mr. James Par ton began his essay with a striking statement, as is his custom: "There is an American lady living at Hartford, in Connecticut, whom the United States has permitted to be robbed by foreigners of $200,000. Her name is Harriet Beecher Stowe. By no c^isloyal act has she or her family forfeited their right to the protection of the Government of the United States. She pays her taxes, keepB the* peace, and earns her livelihood by hon­ est industry; she has reared children for the service of the Commonwealth; she was warm and active for her coun­ try when many around her were cold or hostile; in a word, she is a good cit­ izen. More than that: she is an illus­ trious citiaen. The United States stands higher to-day in the regard of every civilized being in Christendom because she lives in the United States. * * * To that American woman every person on earth who read 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' incurred a personal obligation. Every individual who became possessed of a copy of the book, and every one who saw the stc&y played in a theater, was bound in natural justice to pay money to her for services rendered, unless she expressly and formally relinquished her right--which she never has done." Mr. Parton's statement of the case is vehe­ ment, but his estimate of the loss to Mrs. Stowe, owing to the absence of any way by which she could protect her rights in foreign parts, is none too high. Because the people of the United States have not chosen to give protec­ tion here to the works of foreign au­ thors, Mrs. Stowe has been robbed by foreigners, and the extent of her loss is quite $200,000. The extent of the loss of Irving, Cooper, Longfellow, Haw­ thorne, and of the many living Ameri­ cans whose writings are read eagerly on the far side of the Atlantic, is many times $200,000, and it incp$a$$ every day.--The Century. A llieak Home. On the map of Iceland may be seen a speck of an island called Orimsey. It is the most northern, and conse­ quently the coldest, of the Iceland group. Eighty-eight people--no more live on it. They have tried to keep a few cows, but the winters are too hard for them. Two horses and a few sheep with very coarse fleeces are the only animals of the kind on the island. A good minister, whose name in Eng­ lish is Peter Goodmanson, lives in this remote place.. He is a poet and an as­ tronomer, and is employed to take ob­ servations for the Meteorological In­ stitute at Copenhagen. Once or twice a year some of the islanders visit the mainland, but the stormy seas, covered with icebergs, make the passage always dangerous. On one side of the island, which is a high precipice, countless birds build their nests, and the collection of eggs is one chief means of living for the lit­ tle settlement. Men are let down over the face of the rocks by ropes. They wears suits thickly wadded with feath­ ers, to save themselves from being hurt on the sharp rocks. Each man oarries a pole to help himself with, and a ladle for scooping up nests that he cannot reach with his hands. There is in his frook a great pocket in which lie can put 150 eggs. There he works, with the sea , roaring beneath him. Many accidents' occur, and many lives are lost in this business.-- Watchman. Feus Sacred te Freya. Peas are sacred, to Freya, almost vying with the mistletoe in alleged vir­ tue for lovers. In one district in Bo­ hemia the girls go into a field of peas and make there a garland of five or seven kinds of flowers, all of different hues. This garlaud they must sleep upon, lying with their right ear upon it, and then they hear a voice from un derground, which tells what manner of men they will have .for husbands. Sweet peas would doubtless prove very effectual in this kind or divination, and there need be no difficulty in finding them of different hues. If Hertford shire girls are lucky enough to find a pod containing nine peas, they lay it under a gate, and believe they will have for husband the first man that passes through. On the borders unlucky lads and lasses in courtship are rubbed down with pea straw by friends of the opposite sex. These beliefs connected with peas axe very widespread.--Ex­ change. TANOERBILTS HOMB UIFE. <"5? -- Bow the ItlctHMt Man In America Looln After His Diet--Wlrnt He EH to. "Since my boyhood," said Mr. Wil­ liam H. Vanderbilt, "I have been ac­ customed to plain, wholesome living. To my style of living and regular habita I attribute my uniformly good health. I have my ills and aches like other men, but I am free from spells of sick­ ness. I have tried to think if ther^ was one thing that suited my palate more than another. I do not believe there is. My appetite, as a rule, keeps so good that I can eat one thing with quite as much relish as another. I was brought up on a farm, you know, and I must confess an honest liking for good roast beef and roast mutton. I do not like either too well done or too rare, for I believe in either state they are indigestible. I want them brown, rich and juicy, and with them I like to have served potatoes, white and floury. Above all I desire my food prepared and served plainly. Grease, spices and rich-flavored condiments are not suited to me, and I do not believe they are to any person. I have an idea of my own in this respect, and I am convinced it is correct It ia that accustoming one's self to spiced gravies, and relishes, and other things that taste horribly at first, is simply the cultivation of a vitiated taste. I have observed the absence of clear complexions and bright, sparkling eyes in persons accustomed to high liv­ ing. The rosy color, and clear eyes, and buoyant spirits of persons who live plainly, but well withal, convince me that the simple, bountiful way of living is best." Mr. Vanderbilt talked of his mode of life with as muoh interest as he ever talked of money, stocks or railroads. It is true that Mr. Vanderbilt lives in magnificence, but he lives sensibly. He calculates to retire at 10 o'clock at night, and he rarely misses going to bed at that time. Ho is called at 7:30 in the morning, and at 8:30 is at breakfast with his whole family. He usually spends the morning at home. Sometimes he goes out before lunch, and sometimes not until after lunch. When the weather will permit, he goes out for a drive in tho afternoon. The drive may be through the Park; it may be to Macomb's Dam Bridge, or it may extend to Fleetwood Park. When Mr. Vanderbilt returns from it he lies down in his library for a nap, which lasts until the dinner hour. He arises re­ freshed, and sits down to his evening meal as much to enjoy the conversation with his family, which is an extremely pleasant one, as to partake of the viands before him. Mr. Vanderbilt al­ ways eats sparingly, and avoids liquids as much as possible. He takes his coffee sometimes after his dinner. Sometimes, however, he does not drink it at all. Mr. Vanderbilt is an extremely ab­ stemious man in every way. He never uses liquor in any form. If he is in company where he is compelled to take wine, he will simply raise the glass to his lips. In the first place, he has no taste for liquor, and in the second place, his physio^l composition will not admit of indulgence in any form. On account of a slight affection of the muscles of his face, persons unfamiliar with his habits might think that he allowed himself to gratify a taste for wine. It is not so. When he requires a beverage he calls for lemonade, and he likes to have the lemon juice fresh pressed from the fruit He used to be addicted to the use of tobacco, but for thirty years has not touched the weed. Mr. Vanderbilt is extremely careful of his health, and looks to his eating as much as anything else to keep it good. New York Cook. The Talking Alligator. Oapt Paul Boynton has opened -"-in aquatio museum in1 New York. He should secure an old fellow whom he encountered during .his float down the Arkansaw river. Just before reaching Bed Bluff, a native who had never heard of the captain, saw him floating along. Ef that ain't a alligator," said he, "I'm a fish." Springing into a boat, he rowed out to investigate. When within speaking distance, the captain, who was afraid of being shot, raised up and shouted, "Helloa!" "Wall, I'll be dinged!" exclaimed the old fellow, ceasing to row, and gazing at the captain, who, in his rubber suit, looked like some tetrible monster. "I have heerd o' a heap o' things, an* have seed a few, but you air the fust talkin' alligator that I ever seed." The captain, to humor the fellow, and not knowing that his words would enforce conviction, replied: "Yes, don't many of us talk, but'I got the hang of it somehow." "Wall, I'll be dinged," said the old fellow, slowly rowing down stream. "You muafc've learnt it from tho Yankees." "Yes." 'How'd they do it?" "Split my tongue." "It's a pity they didn't split your blamed head open, fur you'll cause dev­ ilment enough, turned loose in this here river. Come out on the bank an* let me get a good look at you. I'd like fur ray wife to see you, fur she thinks that I'm the ugliest^ thing, next to a cat-fish, but blamed if you don't lay over me. Whar you goin,' anyhow ?" Going back down to the Missis­ sippi." - " Whar you been ?" "Been up to Fort Smith; went up after a school of bass." - Wall, I'll be dinged if you ainti a onery cuss." t Say, if I come out may I stay all night with you ?" "Yes, go a leetle furder down thar an' yer ken git in the bayou an' sleep thar, but mind, if I ketch you on my trot-line you're gone up, talk or no talk. Good bye; never seed the like o' you befo,' an' I hope never to agin," and, taking a final lo.ok, he mused: "My Lawd, but he's a onery cuaa."v Curious Men. A saloon-keeper of Eureka who had suffered from the prevailing dull times posted a large c&rd on his outer door bearing the inscription: "Positively no admittance to-day." Every one who saw the notice was puzzled, and, human-like, attempted to enter, which, as the door was not locked, was readily accomplished. The genial bar-keeper was found at his post, and, with a nonchalant air. would inquire: "Well, gentlemen, what will you have ? Every man thus eiwnared, with a sufficient amount of com in his pocket to pay for a drink, would imbibe, and then depart without even mentioning the notioe on the door.--Eureka Freas. YOCNO LADY (to her uncle)"Oh, ancle! what a shocking thing! A voung girl in Indiana was made crazy by a sudden kiss!" Old uncle--"What did the fool go crazy for?" Young lady--"What did ahe go crazy for* Why, for mete, I auppow." PITH ABP ponrr. 4 STBXHOED inatranaat--ISM g«J* Iowa.--Bosion Courier. PLANTS are avaricious--they vp;: the earth.--Merchant Traveler, > THE bayin' of the watchdog ia the bane of many a man's quiet--Yonkere Gazette. LADIES ought to make good soldiers --none of them are afraid of "powder." --Carl PretteVs Weekly. OLD Kentucky is the "spirit" land where the "worm" dieth not and "moonshine" ia perennial.--Barber*' Gazette. A TENNESOKB eook recently poisoned a large family. He made a mistake and put baking powder in the bread instead of arsenic.--Newman Inde­ pendent WHAT is a chestnut? A chestnut is an old joke told by some other fellow. An original joke is an old one told by yourself, which you think the crowd hasn't heard before.--Texas Siftings. THE new version changes "bosses" to "knobs" in Job, fifteenth chapter. It is an improvement Lots of men who, a few years ago, set up as "bosses" now account themselves as "nobs."--Boston Transcript. "WHY don't you run a column in •our paper heaaed, 'What women are saying?'* said the fellow who thinks it just fun to ec^t a paper. "Do you think we're running an encyclopaedia?" -- St. Paul Herald. IN making his official report of a death to the clerk of aoity near Boston^ a physician handed in the following: "Primary cause Bright's disease; sec­ ondary cause, Christian scientists.*^--- Springfield Republican. "WHERE shall I be buried?" sighs * poet? Isn't a graveyard good enough for you? Do you want to be buried in the top of a tree? Just name the place, though, and we'll see that yen are put there.--Oil City Derrick. PHILOSOPHY. Our fondest hopes ore oft destroyed, But -why ill tears bewail our plight? The trouble that one can't avoid A world of grieving won't set right. Then do not walk the floor ia wod f • ^ Because a note is overdue. But let the man walk whom you * He'll do enough for two. --Boston Courier. AN exchange says: "Thomas Jeffer­ son never went into a barber Bhop." There is nothing very startling in this information. Barbers in his day did not know as much about State matters as they do now. What pointers a bar­ ber can't give a President now-a-days ain't worth knowing. -- Brooklyn Times. "SAY, Bob, you're 'out* with Miss Parsons, ain't you?" "Yes, Joe." "What happened." "She's experiment­ ing too lavishly." "Experimenting! What at ?" "Trying to cure freckles by eating ice-cream." "Well, why ought you to care ?" "O, I don't, pro­ vided it's at some other fellow's ex­ pense. It was costing me a dollar and a-half a freckle."--Philadelphia Call. THE cook of the Palace Hotel, Edin- burg, has been awarded a gold medal at one of the German exhibitions for the best turtle soup. This recognition of merit was deserved. When a cook" succeeds in producing a turtle soup without permitting any portion of the turtle to enter into its composition, his brilliant attainments should be re­ warded. We have plenty of such cooks in this country.--Norristown Herald. "1 SAW you nodding in chureh this morning,*' Crimsonbeak got fired at him between the courses at Sundays dinner. "Well, suppose you did," re­ plied he. "It was while the collection was being taken, too," continued the wife. "And what were you doing?" "I was giving my mite. I contributed a penny." "Well, isn't a nod as good as assent, any day?" Mrs. Crimsonbeak caused the pickles and everything sharp--but Crimsonbeak--to be re* moved from the table. -- Yon kers Statesman. ALAS! ALAS I I saw her rosy cheek turn pale, . Ber eyes in anguish roll ; bile from lips a muffled wail Bespoke her sorrow's whole. The painful pucker on her brow Did prompt my tongue to ask; . > "May I not, little darling, now Divide thy mournful task?" Her eyes abrim, and with glimmering tears, Up to my features turn. Through ail tho vista of life's years, . ' That mute appeal will burn. She sighed, then laid the paper dojrn . . And shook her head in doubt. : / ' No wonder Flow doth hotly frown*'* * , "An item's been cut out." t --JET. S. Keller, in White Rail riwMtt'1' Cheap Honey. She pushed her way through the lit­ tle crowd of ex-capitalists that was con­ gregated about the "tioker" and sat her shopping bag down upon the counter with a slam. "I see by the papers that money Is oheap," she began. ^ "Never so cheap as at preaent," im­ plied the broker, affably. "How are you selling tens?" she oon- tinued. "Tens, madam?" said the broker in surprise. " Yes, ten-dollar bills. Where do you keep them? This doesn't look at all like a bankrupt sale. ' I expected to find them in little baskets ticketed,' 'Anything in this basket for $5,' and so on. Have you any remnan ts--quarters, halves, and all that--at a great sacri­ fice ? What is the cause of this fearful reduction, anyhow? Must you close out your entir e stock of money within the next thirty days, regardless of cost, to make room for fresh goods? Or is" your stock damaged by fire?" "We have some stocks that are dam­ aged by water that we can let you have at a very low figure," said the broker. "Yes ? By the way, you didn't tell me what you get for the $10 bills." "Oh, wine and cigars, and theater tickets," said the broker, absent-mind- edly. "I mean how much do you sell t for?" "Ten dollars." ' - "Do you call that cheap ?" "Yes, I do," growled the financier.. "I've seen the time when I've had to pay $15 for the use of $10 on my per­ sonal note at thirty days, and it was dirt cheap, too, considering the secur­ ity. What do you expect to pay?" "Oh, not more than five. I'm look­ ing for bargains. Good morning."-- Detroit Free Press. Didn't Like It Watered^ A Wall-street broker went into a sa­ loon' and called for whisky. The bar­ keeper set out the bottle and a glass of water. "What's that?" asked, the broker, pointing at the water And pouing out the whisky. f ^ "Water, sir." . "What's it for' • "To mix with the whisky." "Well, take it away. Do you think I'm Jay Gould--Merchant Traveler. "I AM strongly atached to you," said the convict to his pal, as he jingled the hand-cuffs which bound them tOget&or. -St Paul Herald