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J.1MI ttTWij McHENBY, ILLINOIS. A MADRIGAL.--FROM TDK SPANISH. I Nestle cloKely, little hand, , f a,, Closely, warmly clasped In mttwl -'Iti' While Rcrooa tfcis evening land ' J f - Fainter grfwa the sunset shtne^ , • And a low breeze thrills the pin>k kg Then serenely aits a way #• f • * the stranded wreck of Day; 'yi Linger, little hand, in mine 1 ?* ' > Whisper, voice of liquid tone, , * Whisper in the captive's earf - • W «U voice earth has known, , ; Tlitne is sweetest, Love, to hear. Hmwii therein -•* ms strangely XM«r, Since it hath fall and rise -»• - t Of the rills of Paradise '»% u *• Oath*soul'senraptured wr^. ?;l 4. s i Tremble, oh thou tender biossM;,^ » T-ih-V I, But for joy that, borne apart, , •. Love hath built for love a utst •* In his deep entranced hrart. There, mv gentler self, thou Ml ' „y (Whiie for thy pure thoughted Mto 'ha&t- All the songs of Eden wake) ; . Sheltered, tranquil and apart; • <• , • Flutter nigh me, timorous lips, Coy as bird wings poised for night , Ah! but twilight's half eclipse Slowlv melted into nipht; ! * Then"vo faltering lips a'lght,.. ft as dew-falls of the South, ^ * . On a softly-answering mouth. S*V> Surely veiled by gracious m?tf% 4 _ id^n'witb the flickering iluslf il > •• Of his own delicious blush, •, • I<ove may kiss and kiss aright! ' Hamilton Hague* *" the t'HIjfr, _ ? UNCLE JACK'S LEGACY. • - J i ^ , S ^ BY JKNNIC S. JTDSOX. tjSid® Jack was dead ! Poor* dear Uncle Jack, so jolly, and so kind, but who had always been a "rolling stone." 'Twas no wonder that after years of wandering, wherein he had "gathered no moss," bat found ill-health instead, he should come back to the home of his only and well-loved sister to die. He had expressed a keen regret, as the end drew near, that he had noth­ ing but a small collection of cariosi­ ties to leave to this sister and her chil­ dren. "Oh, Sallie!" he said; "when I re­ member the gold and diamonds which have passed through these poor hands," looking at his long, thin fingers, "and think *f the good they might have done you, widowed and poor, I grow almost desperate at tho thought. Oh, for a few more years of life, in which I might work for yoa and the children!" But they were not vouchsafed him, and he died next day. with the words, "ft wasted life," upon his lips. We buried him with such honors as we might, and I, Cora, the eldest, and bit pet, planted a white rose on his gTJVf, an>l watered it with my team 'Twa* two days after the funeral, and :r>r«ttma, Alice and I, sat together, hoUh t a counsel as to "ways and mean- ** Alice is only fourteen, bat she is A ds«r, wise little thing, and we al­ ways listen to what she says. Mamma's only income was the mod­ est pension she* had obtained through ay father, but that was not sufficient to meet even our moderate wants; and now we had a heavy debt to meet in doctors' bills and funeral expenses. "If I could only teich!" I cried, dis- in reply, adding, indifferently: "and I'm sure 1 shouldn t .find a rustic beauty to my taste." "Thanks, my brave young man," I thought, irately, "for so free an ex­ pression of your sentiments. Yoa shall not be annoyed by a sight of the rustic beauty;" and I ran hastily aronnd to the back door. Mamma could easily have copied her jcarnation from my oheeks, had she seen them then, I was so provoked. " Allie is not well, Cora," said mamma, apprehensively, to me the next day, "and I am' afraid she is fcro wing-Hlwith an attaokof fever. Her symptoms arV much the same aa yours." My heart satik within me. Our bar- dens seemed very heavy, already, and the additional expense of medicine and doctors' bills, coupled with the thought that dear little Allie would have to fcuffer, tilled me with dismay. Two days later she was unable to leave her bed, and the physician was galled. That very afternoon Mr. Crofton, Miss Abbie's nephew, called to examine Vncle Jack's collection of curiosities. Through some inexplicable means he caug/it liis foot in the heavy network of ^ViQes, which drape our front porcli, and "%ave it a very painful twist. His face was very white as we opened Ihe door, and he wan soon lying on the sofa, while the doctor, who was visit­ ing Allie, bandaged his ankle. I felt no resentment toward him as be lay there, pale and handsome, but afterward I left mamma to tend him, While I sat near Allie. "He cannot be removed any distance for a day or two," the doctor said, next morning. "So he is foroed, after all," I laughed to myself, "to accept both sympathy and assistance from that excellent girl, the rustic beauty.'" I was too generous to take advantage of a fallen foe, so, while I worked away with feverish haste on my crazy-quilt, I tried to entertain oar guest,and make him feel at ease. My time was too limited to permit me to arrange in braids my unruly hair, on the second morning of his stay, so I allowed it to fall in the large,loose carls it naturally assumes. I looked up once to find Mr. Crofton regarding me intently. "Some ladies," he said, hastily, as if in explanation of his earnest gaze, "make cobwebs of yellow silk on a black ground, for their silk quilts. Yoa might make a lovely, ensnaring one with a strand of your golden hair." I played for him softly on my guitar when the twilight fell, and my eyes had grown weary of work, and I read aloud and worked alternatively daring the evening. He took the guitar once, and sang to me, while I sat with Allie: •You've tangled my life in your hair, Janet, lis a golden and silver snare, my pet." Our tastes were very congenial, and when, three days later, he took his leave, I experienced a vague feeling of regret. As he limped toward the gate to en­ ter the carriage, I rendered him such assistance as 1 could, and asked him to call when quite well again. I trust I shall see you quite eoon, mmmmm contentedly. "I'm sure Mr. Perkins ! MissCora^he said earnestly. "I shall be would assist me in getting a school, confined at home, perhaps, for several and I could help so much." "Ah! well, dear, 'tis no use to discuss that," said mamma; "I came too near losing you this fall to permit yoa to attempt teaching soon again." "No," said Alice; "I'm to be the t--sher of the family, when I graduate; bat if I didn't have to get an education now, do yon know what I would do? I would walk right up to Miss Abbie Lightfoot's and ask her if she would not take me as a lielp in her kitchen." "Dear little thing!" I criad; "I be­ lieve you would, you have so mtch pluck and perseverance. And I have no doubt Miss Abbie would give you first-class wages. I might try Miss Abbie myself, I added, with a little laugh; "especially as her handsome nephew is coming, if I were only stronger since that attack of fever." "No, mamma, said Alice, with great gravity and decision; "Codie must not be expected to engage at anything now, bnt to help you a little with the house­ hold work, and do what she can quietly with her hands." "I dare not expend any more in crochet material," I said; "fori have quite a number of nn bought articles on hand now." "1 wonder if we would make money if we were to buy an outfit, and do stamping," said mamma, meditatively. "I'm afraid the competition is too great," I replied. "And there is so little demand for embroidery in a place of tips size," mamma added, with a sigh. Yoa might have had a nicc strawberry bed ready and bearing now, mamma, but for my tin- timely sickness, and poor Uncle Jack's return," said I, regretfully. *Tve thought of something," said Alice, excitedly. "The stamping outfit made me think of it. Can't you make a lovely crazy silk, Codie, and raffle it off, as Miss Jenkins did her winter landscape? Brainerd and Armstrong's waste embroidery silks cost so little, and think of the nice scraps we have had for years in the attick." Mamma smiled at this impulsive outburst, and I brightened at the thought, for it really seemed a good one. , "Those scraps were kept to make you and Codie a silk quilt apieee." "Oh, well, mamma, let as try it," I said; "it may work well, for Miss Jen­ kins was very successful in her venturo, and you can help me so much with the embroidery and fancy stitches." "Very well," she said, "and what oolors we lack I can make up for with those satisfactory Handy package dyes. A part of my white silk wedding-dress, I have preserved all these years as an heirloom for you and Allie, will have to be sacrificed to make a sufficient number of colors. White will take the dye better than anything else." "Well, mamma, we can't begin too soon, I said, enthused at the prospect of any work, and especially so by that which was both congenial and suited to my weak condition. So, dropping a kiss on our little So­ lon's cheek as I passed, I made my way to the attic. I stamped several small pieces of silk next day, having secured W. P. Fray's valuable embroidery books •ad stamping outfit. Among them was A carnation pink, and mamma thought she could embroider it without a flower to copy the colors from. So I tied a blue fascinator over mv head, and ran up to Miss Abby Lightfoot's to get one. As I neared the front door, 1 heard Hiss Abbie's voice through the window, saying: "I am anxious to have you meet Cora English, Edward. She is an ex­ cellent girl, in my estimation; is very pretty." "Don't consider me ungracious, aunt, but I am afraid an excellent girl and I Would have nothing in common," days. Do you never come," insinust- ingly, "to visit my aunt?" "Oh, yes," I answered, demurely. likes excellent girls, but I never obtrude myself on those who do not;" and with a mischievous glance I bade him goodbye, and ran toward the house. He turned a moment, as if to follow me, wavered, then entered the carriage and was driven away. Poor little Annie was very ill for days after that. Our scanty savings, so freely drawn upon for medicine and delicacies, were rapidly diminishing, and there was, besides, a large indebted­ ness to meet. "Mr. Young is soon to move away, Cora," said mamma, lifting her startled eyes from a note in her hand, one morn­ ing, "and hopes we are ready to meet his bill for Uncle Jack's expenses. "What are we to do, my child?" "Perhaps we can meet it soon, mam­ ma," I said, with a false show of cour- age, "if I only can finish my quilt." Our heavy expenses had eaten up mamma's pension for a month or two to come. My own illness, which was the same as Annie's, had been of long duration, and I could not hope that her's would be otherwise. Our pros­ pects seemed very dark, indeed. What wonder, then, that, at such times as I was free, I worked on the crazy- quilt till my hands trembled, and my eyes almost refused their vision 1 _ One morning a little streak of son- light gilded the dark cloads that sur­ rounded us. A servant brought a beautiful basket of flowers, with a kind note of inquiry for Annie, and a copv of the Art Interchange for the year, for me, from Mr. Crofton. Oh! that dear Art Interchange-, how I had cov­ eted it! nothing could have pleased or helped me more. For its lovely pic­ tures, its useful suggestions, and prac­ tical rules for various styles of artistic work are invaluable to one who en­ gages in such things. The next day, however, Annie was worse, and the doctor looked so grave that fear tore at my heart-strings. Worn down by night-watching, con­ stant work on my quilt, and by bitter, heavy thoughts, I felt almost as if I should be ill. But no, I would not yield to such weakness; I must work, for another doctor was to be called in consultation about Annie, which meant another debt. Mamma dragged wearily about, and was too weak, I felt sure, though she never complained, to keep up much longer. Could we afi'ord to keep a nurse? Everything goaded me on to deeper ate action. Mamma and I took turns in watch­ ing Annie on the night of the rises'in her fever. At 11 I was dismissed, and mamma took my place. I tossed mis­ erably upon my bed for an hour, then fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep. At 6 I awoke with a sudden chill at my heart. I descended the stairs hastily. Mamma met me at the foot. Her face told its story. Anna was better. The great ganger was past, and with care ful nursing she would get well. I was too happy to speak, and sank down on the steps, sobbing for joy. Mr. Crofton called after breakfast, to take me to ride. I declined at first, but went finally, at mamma's insist­ ence. It was a lovely day; the fresh air did me untold good, and as I drove along I was happier than I had been for weeks. Mr. Crofton descended, in opposition to my remonstrance, to obtain a flower I much admired. . "Oh, thanks!" I cried, as he banded it to me; "I shall prize it so much." A soft light beamed from his ©yea. "It will make a lovely model for little painting I wish to put in my quilt" "A!i,'he answered, a little quickly, "your thoughts seem entirely engrossed with that quilt Havu yon none to be­ stow elsewhere?" I made no answer. The strange agi­ tation I experienced, I assured myself, was due to my weakened condition. "Don't try to finish that quilt, now, Miss Cora,,! beg," he next said, unex­ pectedly and earnestly. "The work is wearing you out. It has robbed yon of strengtli and cjlor, and ha? made that a My which once was a rose." "But I must," I cried, wildly; "you do not know"--and then I checked my­ self. He opened his lips as if to speak, then shut them as resolutely as 1 had mine, and our talk afterwards was on indifferent subjects. I found Alico sleeping quietly, when I reached home, as I sought the attio in quest of extra pieces for my quilt. Among other things I found an oi<| necktie of Uncle Jack's. It was a "made" cravat, and was soiled and threadbare, but by ripping and turning it I hoped to obtain some pieces. , I wa* working away hastily, when, my scissors struck against a bard ob­ ject ; then another, and another. "This inner lining is filled with small pebbles," I said. "How coukM they have found their way iu there?" * I extracted, in all, sixteen small, and four quite Itftge stones. ^ "They w^re placed here, perhaps, by Uncle Jack," I thought, excitedly, "for safe keeping. Cau it be they have a value?" / My pulse was bounding, and my fingers trembled, as I turned the last one into my hand. It was larger than all the rest. "Mr.- Gray is an expert lapidary," I thought, "so I will go right down and see him." g Mr. Gray was startled by my pale faco. "Ah, Miss Cora," he cried. "You are quite worn down from anx­ iety and overwork." "Please tell me," I said, breathlessly, "if these pebbles have a value? I found them in Uncle Jack's cravat." While he examined the stones, I waited in intense expectancy. "Yes,"he said,finally; "these'pebbles,'. as you call them, are uncut diamonds, and very fine ones, so far as I can now judge. You have found a treasure. Your uncle spoke to me once about having been for several months in the diamond fields of South Africa. He probably obtained them there." Annie's illness, over-work, and the thought of our straitened circumstances, had weighed upon me far more heavily than I knew. The revulsion was too great. As I opened the sitting-room door, I cried out: "Oh, mamma, we are no longer poor! "Uncle Jack" then fell fainting at her feet. Stronger arms than mamma's lifted me, and when, a few moments later, I regained consciousness, a passionate voice above me whispered "darling," and I found my hands in the warm clasp of Mr. Crofton's. I did not draw them away. Was I too weak ? or had I found time in the midst of ail my anxieties to leave my heart to Miss Abbie's handsome nephew? Mr. Crofton took the last view of the matter, and when mamma came in with a restorativt*,she was greatly annoyed to find my yellow head pillowed upon his breast "Give her to me, Mrs. Arlington," he said," "and I shall take such cure of her, frail, little darling that she is. How I have chafed at the thought that she was wearing her strength away over a foolish crazy-quilt, and I could do noth­ ing to prevent! Give me the right now, Mrs. Arlington, I beg." Charlie had quite won mamma's heart, during his stay at the house, and after a little talk she gave him a tear­ ful and not unreluctant consent. Our diamonds proved valuable as Mr. Gray thought. Alice grew rapidly better in the sunshine of prosperity, and when fall came was quite strong again, while her sister, that excellent girl, "the rustic beauty," was estab­ lished in an elegant city home of her own. with naught to look after but her husband's happiness, and the flniohinp up of a lovely crazy-quilt. So dear Uncle Jack brought about a large share of our happiness,after all; for, but for his diamonds, Annie and mamma would not have been so com­ fortably situated,and but for his cravat, Charlie and I , would never have met The Dtittnioitlied "VlowaV t* Wj Their CoaVMlUoB. Mr PSS8I9BNT AJTD OENTXJUmr o* the Pbess of Wisconsin: I am sure that when you so kindly invited me to ad­ dress you to-day you did not anticipate a lavish display of genius and gestures. I Accepted the invitation because it afforded me an opportunity to meet you and to get acquainted with you and tell you person­ ally that for years I have been a oonstant reader of your valuable paper and I like it* You are running it just as I like to see a newspaper run. I need not elaborate upon the wonderful growth of the press in our country, or refer to the great power which journalism wields in the development of the new world. I need not ladle outsta- .,f»A 4 -5 How Southern Women Ride. In this country the Southerner is most constantly in the saddle, and a good rider in the Sunny South is a thor­ oughly good rider. But 1 have often wondered at the number of poor ones it is possible to find in localities where everybody moves about in the saddle. Many men there, who rido all the time, seem to have acquired the trick of breaking every commandment in the Decalogue of equitation. Using horses as a mere means of transportation seems sometimes to reduce the steed to a simple beast of burden, and eques- trainism to the bald ability to sit in a saddle as you would in an ox-cart. I think I have seen more graceful equestriennes in the South than any­ where else--than even in England. Although the southern women refuse to ride the trot, she has a proper sub­ stitute for it, and her seat is generally admirable. Though I greatly admire a square trot well ridden in a side­ saddle. it is really the rise on this gait which makes so many crooked female rideTs among ourselves, and our Brit­ ish cousins. This ought not to be so; but ladies are apt to resent too much severity in instruction, and, without strict obedience to her master, a lady never learns to ride gracefully and stoutly. In the South ladies ride habitually, and, moreover, a rack, single-foot, and canter are not only graceful, but straight-sitting paces for woman.--Dodge's Patrociun and Penelope. Sunday-School Item. "What three men were cast into the fiery furnace?" asked the Sunday- school teacher. "Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed- nego," shouted the class. "Did they burn?" \ J "No, mum." ^ "That is correct Not a hair of their heads was singed. Now, Willie, can you tell me why their hair was not singed?" "Yes, mum. They wuz bald-headed." --Newman Independent. The poet Landor Was passionately fond of flowers. The form which this sentiment took in a Florentine story was that he had one day, after an im­ perfect dinner, thrown the cook out of the window, and then ejaculated, "Good Heavens! I forgot the flowers." Ccnning and greedy people rarely gain much; and ungrateful ones ard generally punished in the end. - Bnx NYE.' tistics to show you how the newspaper has encroached upon the field of oratory and how the pale and silent man, while others sleep, compiles the universal history of a day and tells his mighty audience what he thinks about it, before he goes to bed. Of course this is but the opinion of one man; but who has a better opportunity to judge than he who sits with his finger on the electric pulse of the world, judging the actions of humanity at so much per judge, invariably in advance? I need not tell you all this, for you certainly know it if you read your paper, and I hope you do. A man ought to read his own paper, even if he cannot indorse all its sentiments. So necessiry has the profession of jour­ nalism become to the progress and educa­ tion of our country that the matter of es­ tablishing schools where young men may be fitted for an active newspaper life has attracted much attention and discussion. It has been demonstiated that our colleges do not fit a young man to walk at once into the active management of a paper. He should at least know the difference be­ tween a vile contemporary and a Gothic scoop. It is difficult to map out a proper course for the student in a school of journalism, there are so many things connected with the profession which the editor and his staff should know, and know hard. The news­ paper of to-day is a library. It is an ency­ clopedia, a poem, a biography, a history, a prophecy, a directory, a time-table, a ro­ mance, a cook-book, a guide, a horoscope, an art critic, a political resume, a ground plan of the civilized world, a low-priced multum in parvo. It is a sermon, a song, a circus, an obituary, a picnic, a shipwreck, a symphony in solid brevier, a medley of life and death, a grand aggregation of man's glory and his shame. It is, in snort, a bird's-eye view of all the magnanimity and meanness, the joys and griefs, the births and deaths, the pride and poverty of the world, and all for two cents--sometimes. I could tell you some more things that the newspaper of to-dtiy is, if you hid time to stay here, and your business would not suf­ fer in your absence. Among others, it is a long-felt want, a nine-column paper in a five-column town,- a lying sheet, a feeble effort, a financial problem, a tottering wreck, a political tool, and a Sheriff's sale. If I were to suggest a curriculum for the young man who wished to take a regular coarse in a school of journalism, preferring that to the actual experience, I would say to him, devote the first two years to medi­ tation and prayer. This wi.l prepare the young editor for the surprise and conse­ quent temptation to profanity which in a few years he may experience when he finds that the name of the Deity in his double- leaded editorial is spelled with a little "g," and the peroration of the article is locked up between a death notice and the adver­ tisement of a patent mustache coaxer. which is to follow pure reading matter every day in the week, and occupy top of column on Sunday tf. The ensuing five years shonld be devoted to the peculiar or­ thography of the English language. Then put in three years with the dumb­ bells, sand-bags, slung-shots, and toma­ hawk. In my own journalistic experience I have found more cause for regret over my neglect of this branch than anything else. I usually keep on my desk, during a heated campaign, a large paper-weight weighing three or four pounds, and in sev­ eral instances I have found that I could feed that to a constant reader of my valua­ ble paper instead of a retraction. Fewer people lick the editor though now than did so in years gone by. Many people--in the last two years--have gone across the street to lick the editor and never returned. They intended to come right back in a few mo­ ments, but they are now in a land where a change of heart and a palm-leaf fan is all they need. Fower people are robbing the editor nowadays, too, I notice with much pleasure. Only a short time ago I noticed that a burglar succeeded in breaking into the residence of a Dakota journalist, and after a long, hard struggle, the editor suc­ ceeded in robbing him. After the primary course, mapped out al­ ready. an intermediate course of ten years should be given to learning the typograph­ ical art, so that when visitors come inlaid ask the editor all about the office, he can tell them of the mysteries of making a pa­ per, and how delinquent subscribers have frequently been killed by a well-directed blow of a printer's towel. Five years should be devoted to a study of the art of proof-reading. In that length of time the young journalist can perfect himself to such a degree that it will take another five years for the printer to understand his cor­ rections and marginal notes. Fifteen years should then be devoted to the study qf American politics, espe^ally oivil-j>eryjce reform, looking at it from a non-partisan standpoint. If possible, the last five years should be spent abroad. London is the place to go if you wish to get a clean, con­ cise view of American politics, and Chicago and Milwaukee would be a good place -for the young journalist to go and study the political outlook in England. The student should then take a medical and surgical cour.se, so that he may be able to uttend tp contusions, fractures, and so forth, which may occur to himself or the party who comes to his office for a' retraction and by a mistake gets his spinal column xfouble- l e a d e d . . . . Ten years should then be given the study of law. No thorough, metropolitan editor wants to enter upon the duties of his profes­ sion without knowing the difference be­ tween a writ of mandamus and other styles of profanity. He should thoroughly under­ stand the entire system of American juris­ prudence, so that in case a certiorari should break out in his neighborhood he would know just what to do for it. Tbe student wiU, by this time, begin to see what is re­ quired of him, aud enter with great zeal upon the further study of his profession. He will now enter upon a theological course of ten years and fit himself thoroughly to speak intelligently of the varions creeds and religions of the world. Ignorance on the part of an editor is almost a crime, and when he c oses a powerful editorial with the familiar quotation, "It is the early bird that gets the worm," and attributes it to St. Paul instead of to Deuteronomy, it makes me blush for the profession. The last ten years may be profitably de- Tiisd^to^the acgsirttlojj^ <rf^ptM*toal double hand-springs, being shot outofa catapult at a circtn. learhing bow to make a good adhesive pasts that will not sour in hot weather, grinding scissors, punctua­ tion, capitalisation, condemnation, syntax, plain sewing, music and dancing, sculping, etiquette, prosody, how to win the affec­ tions of the opposite sex and evade a ma­ lignant case or breach of proniise, the ten commandments, every man his own tutor on the ftute, croqtiet, rales of the prize- ring, rhetoric, parlor magic, calisthenics, penmanship, how to turn a jack from the bottom of the pack without getting shot, civil engineering, decorative art, calcimin- ing, bicycling, base-ball, hydraulics, bot­ any, poker, international law, high-low- jack, drawing and painting, faro, vocal music, driving breaking team, fifteen-ball pool, how to remove grease-spots from last year's pantaloons, horsemanship, coupling freight-cars, riding on a rail, riding on a pass, feeding a threshing machins, how to wean a calf from the parent stem, teaching school, bull-whacking, plastering, waltzing, vaccination, autopsy, how to win the af­ fections of your wife's mother, eveiy man his Own washerwoman, or how to wash un­ derclothes so that they will not shrink, etc., etc., etc. But time forbids anything like a thor­ ough list of what a young man should study in order to fully understand all that he may be called upon to express au opinion about in his actual experience as a journal­ ist. There are a thousand little matters which every editor should know, such, for instanc?, as the construction of roller com­ position. Many newspaper men can write a good editorial on Asiatic choler.i, but their roller composition is not fit to eat. With the course of study that I have mapped out, the young student would emerge from the college of journalism at the age of 1)5 or 9(5, ready to take off his coat and write an article on almost any subject. He would be a little giddy at first, and the office boy would have to see that he went to bed at a proper hour each night, but aside from that he would be a good man to feed a waste-paper basket Actual experience is the best teacher in his pe­ culiarly trying profession. I hope some day to attend a press convention where the order of exercises will consist of five- minute experiences from each one present. It would be worth listening to. My own experience was a little peouliar. It was my intention first to practice law, when 1 went to the Kocky Mountains, al­ though I had been warned by the authori­ ties not to do so. Still, I did practice in a surreptitious kind of a way and might have been practicing yet if my client hadn't died. When you have become attached to a client and respect and like him, and then when, without warning, like a bolt of electricity from a clear sky, he suddenly digs and takes the bread right out of your mouth, it is rough. Then I tried the practice of crimi­ nal law, but my client got into the peniten­ tiary, where he was no use to me financially or politically. Finally, when the Judge was in a hurry he would appoint me to defend the p iuper criminals. They all went to the penitentiary, until people got to criticising the Judge, and finally they told him that it was a shame to appoint me to defend an in­ nocent man. My first experience in journalism was in a Western town, in which I was a total stranger. I wont there with thirty-five cents, bnt 1 had it concealed in the lining of my clothes, so that no one would have suspected it if they met me. I had no friends, and I noticed that when I got off the train the band was not there to meet me. I entered the town just as an}' other American citizen would. I had not fully decided whether to become a stage robber or a lecturer on phrenology. At that time I fot a chance to work on a morning paper, t used to go to press before dark, so I al­ ways had my evenings to myself, and I always liked that part of it first rate. I worked on that paper a year, and might have continued if the proprietor had not changed it to an evening paper. Then a company incorporated itself and started a paper, of which I took charge, The paper was published in the loft of a livery- stable. That is the reason they called it a stock company. You could come up the stairs into the office, or yoa could twist the tale of the iron-gray mule and take the elevator. It wasn't much of a paper, but it cost $16,000 a year to run it, and it came out six days in the week no matter what the weather was. We took the Associated Press news by telegraph part of the time and part of the time we relied on a copy of the Cheyenne morning papers, which we got of the conductor on the early freight. We got a great many special telegrams from Washington in that way, and when the freight train got in late, I had to guess at what Congress was doing, and fix up a column of telegraph the best I could. There was a rival evening paper there, and sometimes it would send a smart boy down to the train and get a hold of our special telegmms, and sometimes the conductor would go away on a picnic and take our Cheyenne paper with him. AU these things are annoying to a man who is trying to supply a long-felt want. There was one conductor in particular who used to go away into the foot-hills shoot­ ing sage-hens and take our cablegrams with him. This threw too much strain on me. I could guess at what Congress was doing and make up a pretty readable report, but foreign powers and reichstags ana crowned hea'ds and dynasties always mixed me up. You can look over what Congress did last year and give a pretty good guess at what it will do this year, but you can't rely on a dynasty or an effete monarchy in a bad state of preservation. It may go into ex­ ecutive session or it may go into bank­ ruptcy. Still, at one time we used to have considerable local news to fill#l> with. The North and Middle l'arks fof"si while used to help us out when the mining camps were new. Those were the days when it was considered perfectly proper to kill off the Board of Supervisors if their action was distasteful. At that time a new camp gen­ erally located a cemetery and wrote an obituary; then the boys would start out to find a man whose name would rhyme with the rest of the verse. Those were* the days when the cemeteries of Colorado were still in their infancy and the song of the six- shooter was heard in the land. Sometimes the Indians would send us in an item. It was most generally in the obituary lino. With the Sioux on the north and the peaceful Utes on the south, we were pretty sure of some kind of news dur­ ing the summer. The parks used to be oc­ cupied by white men winters and Indians summers. Sucpmer was really the pleasant- est time to go into the parks, but the In­ dians had been in the habit of going there at that season, and they were so clannish that the white men couldu't have much fun with them, so they decided that they' would not go there in the summer. Sev­ eral of our beet subscribers were killed by the peaceful I'tes. There were two daily and three weekly papers published in Lar­ amie City at that tim >. There were be­ tween 2,000 and 3,CoO people, and our local- circulatipn ran from 150 to 250, counting deadheads. In our prospectus we stated that we would spare no expense whatever in ransacking the universe for fresh news, but there were times when it was all we could do to get our paper out on time. Out of the express office I mean. One of the rival editors used to write his editorials for the paper in the evening, jerk tho Washington hand-press to work them off. go home and wrestle with juvenile colic in his family until daylight, and then de­ liver his papers on the street. It is not surprising that the great mental strain in­ cident to this life made an old man of him and gave a tinge of extreme sadness to the funny column of his paper. In an unguarded moment this man wrote an editorial once that got all his 6ubscrib- I ers mad at him, and tho same afternoon he I came around and wanted to sell his paper to us for $10,000. I told him that the whole outfit was not worth 10,000 cents. I "I know that." said he, "but it is not the material I am talking about. It is the good­ will of the paper." We had a rising young horse-thief in Wyoming, in those days, who got into jail fcy sojgtefKSikof jmtfe»,asd it «*• so odd IP*io4® that I al- ^uTborse-thief bad di-tingnished hiAwdf from the com­ mon vulgar horse-thieves of his time by wearing a large month, a kind of full dress, eight-(Jay mouth He very rarely smiled, but when he did he had to hold the top of his head on with both hands. I remember that I Bpoke of this in the paper, forgetting that he might cntmse me when he got out of jail. When he did get out again, he s ated that he would shoot me on sight, but friends advised me not to have his b ood on my hands, and I took their advice, so I haven't got a particle of his blood on either of my bands. For two or three months I didn't know but he would drop iuto tbe office any minute and criticise me, but one day a friend told me that he had been hanged in Montana. Then I began to mingle in society again, and didn't have to get in my coal with a doubie-barrll shotgun any more. After that I was al­ ways conservative in relation to horse- thieves until we got the report of the vigie- ance committee. What Webster Expected of Newspaper Men. Daniel Webster used to expect the unqualified support of those journalists who espoused his cause. Among them, in 1843, was Nathan Sargent, then the editor of the Philadelphia Commercial- Herald, a Whig journal, regarded at that time as friendly to Mr. Webster's aspirations to the Presidential nomina­ tion. At the adjoarnment of Congress Mr. Webster, accompanied by his wife, came to Philndelpliia and stayed over night at the Washington House. Mr. Sargent called on him the next morn­ ing as he was about to take the 'New York boat for Borden town. He found the great statesman in an unamiable mood. The star of Clay was in the as­ cendency, and the orator of New En­ gland was gloomy and "out of sorts with fortune." As they walked down Chestnut street to the boat, Webster strode on in advance with Sargent, leaving Mrs. Webster to take care of herself, and began at once to arraigu Sargent for not being more outspoken in his behalf in the Herald. Sargent defended himself with the remark that "public opinion in Pennsylvania was not ready for his nomination." "Why don't you make public opinion?" growled Webster, in reply, and here the conversation ended.--Ben: Per ley Poore, in Boston Budget. , Heading Aloud. | If you ask eight people out of ten now, they will tell you that they hate being read to. And why ? Because from their childhood they have been unused to it, or used only to such a monotonous drone as robbed even the "Arabian Nights" of half their charm. The husband, at the end of a hard day's work, returns home to pass the even­ ing absorbed in his book or dozing over the fire, while the wife takes up her novel or knits in silence. If he read to her, or if he could tolerate her re id- iug to him, there would be community of thought, interchange of ideas, and such discussions as the fusion of two minds into one common channel can not fail to produce. And it is often the .same when the circle is wider. I have known a large family pass the hours between dinner and bed-time, each one with his book or work, afraid to speak above his breath, because "it would dis­ turb papa." Is this cheerful or wise, or conducive to that close union in a household which is a bond of strength through life, which the world can neither give nor take away?--Nine­ teenth Century. Keeping Up with the Fashion. Charles Dudley Warner in Harper*: It is, of course, necessary to wear our hair and mount our scarf-pins and tie our cravats and set up our cut-throat collars and to walk in the foreign mode. But it is ridiculous to be so slow in our imitation. Fashion ought to have more alert scouts out in Europe and quicker methods of diffusing the new styles here. We are always behindtime. Now, before we get universally and well settled in the Bond street walk, the English youth will be walking in an entirely different manner, and we shall/ be as much out of fashion as a last year's almanac. How do we know now tbat it is the correct thing for a young to stand with a thumb in each trousers' poTCsJtet? It may be as out of date as that old and independent Amer­ ican way of wearing the thumbs in tho armholes of the vest. Very likely when we are adepts in the high-shouldered, cvooked-elbow, rushing gait, the Pall Mall clerks may be turning out their toes and sauntering along With a sort of bowie-knife nonchalance, caught frdm Texas ranch life. We need decorative young men's societies to keep us up to the mark. A Painter's Passionate Bichter was very fond of tame ani­ mals, which he constantly had about him--sometimes a mouse, then a great white cross spider. Next to his money, Rembrandt loved nothing so much as his monkey. He was one day paint­ ing a picture of a noble family when the news was brought to him of his ape's death. He could scarcely contain his grief, and lamented his unhappy lot. Sobbing and crying he forthwith began delineating the form of the ape upon the family picture. They remon­ strated with him and protested that an ape was quite out of place in the com­ pany of such distinguished personages. The family were most indignant, and ordered him to efface the traces of the animal. But be continued to weep, and went on painting his ape. The head of the family demanded to know whether it was his portrait or that of a monkey which Rembrandt was pretend­ ing to delineate. "It is the portrait of a monkey," said Rembrandt. "Then you may keep the picture." "I think so," said the painter. And the picture still survives.--Alta California* Keeping Up His Correspondence. An Austin business man was clean­ ing out his desk the other day; and tearing up old letters, when the colorCd porter, who was in the office, spoke up aud said: "Boss, gimme one ob dem letters." "What do you want it for?" "I promised to write a letter to my old mammy in Norf Car'lina, but as I hasn't lamed to write yit, I can jess send her one ob dem letters you hain't got no use for; hit will make her feel good, hit will." The gentleman gave the affectionate son a patent medicine, anti-fat circular, which was duly mailed and addressed. --Texas Siftihgs. A damsel applied for a place behind' the counter. "What clerical experience have you?" asked the man of dry goods. "Very little," she said, with a blush, "for I only joined the church last week.^ Trouble in the family is not of mod­ ern origin. The Bomans never wore long hair. :'vv1 , '"a - • # '"'-I i • • '• -1 •.? :.n motthtaehA--52. Paul Sim The tramp ja of th« gm meats by chahoe.--Yonkera Qaeette. A mi may be a good Christian, bat ha looks rery much like * sinful man when he misses his train.--Brooklyn Times. Tax people of Chioago eat 800,009 plea every day. * No wonder they atuK ballot-boxes in Chicago.--Newman lip dependent There isn't near so much atmoe* pherio depression when a pie is formed as there is when a form is cried.--Bar- bertf Gazette. Talmage says a woman has a rig] to do anything she can do weiL that's so, some of them who are wivos are in a business they have no right to be in.--Merchant Traveler. Thebe are about $18,000,000 worth of corsets sold each year in the United States. The amount of wasted squee# ing indicated by these figures is some*' thing too horrible to ponder ove|t We'll take iced soda,--Fall River Ad­ vance. i. In some of the New York skating* rinks a novel feature is the presence of boys dressed in female attire. Young America is cute. He soon learns that it is more comfortable to sit down on ft bustle than on a pair of dude pants.-- Burlington Free Press. "Well, what's for dinner, wife?? "Provisions are all out. If you waitl dinner, you must give me some money.^ "I have no money." "Then we'll ha\f| to live on the wind." "Live on windjf Very well, my dear, let me see the bill of air.--Boston Courier. * This is the grandest, mightiest, mi glorious republic that ever blese _ the world, and yet, with all its powejr and learning and greatness, it can^fe . make an infuriated woman stop in the middle of a sentence and listen to an explanation.--Texas Siftings. CHEWING GUM, •Do you chew gum ?• Yawned pretty Kate To "Gawge," who was A-courtin' late. "I did-aw, once, deah," blushed ha, "Then don't chew gum Again," said she. He left at once. And thought with Mia. Wliy she said, "Don't , You come again." ftmBL O. Dodge. "Lose money! Why I have lost more money than you ever- saw Five yeaiS ago I lost $1,000,000 in Paris." "Ho# was that?" "There wasn't a single' electric light in that cily. Not one." "How did that lose you money?" "How? By not supplying the city with electric lamps." "Yes, but they weren't invented at that time." "I know it. That's how t lost money. By not inventing them.* --New York Graphic. "Oh, papa," said the broker's littl| daughter, as they walked by the nei|s Board of Trade building," "what ft splendid building that is--that on* with the clock in the steeple, and the ship on top, and the stained glass win» dews, I mean. What church is it?* "That isn't a church." "Is it a Sun­ day-school room ?" "No, not exactly, my dear, though I believe the precioqp little lambs are sometimes taken ill > j there."--Chicago Herald. « "Hugging Sociables" are a new form of popular amusement in Michi­ gan. The scalelof prices range front * $10 for embracing a"sweet sixteener," to 5 cents for au old maid. It strikes us that the latter rate is rather exo& bitant. The next thing we know th<|' enterprising and impulsive young ped* - pie of the West will engage in a hug­ ging match for the championship, and the young man who is awarded thft prize will win only by a "tight squeeze."--Norristown Herald. A funeral was passing through th© streets of a Scotch town when the doof of the last mourning-coach was opened, and an elderly man, dressed in black, entered unbidden. The other occu­ pants stared at the new-comer and at each other. Finally one of them ad­ dressed him: "Ye'd be weel ocquainl • with the gude mon in front?" pointing in the direction of the hearse. "No. "Then it's the auld wife ye ken?" "No." "Are you a friend o' Jock's who's in America?" "No." "Then what do ye mean by com in' in here?" "O, I have na been vera weel of late, sae the doctor tellt me to tak' as muck • carriage exercise as I could. An' this « '11 just mak' the foarth time I've been tae Whin Hill Cimetery this week." Bismarck on Eloquence. Bismarck is no orator. His speech is simple and plain. He thinks that" ~ the gift of eloquence has done a great deal of mischief in parliamentary life. It trieB, by appealing to the feelings, to settle questions which should be set­ tled by common sense. Bismarck used to tell a humorous story to illustrate the distracting efteot of eloquence. Frederick William I., the despot king who publicly whipped his son, subsequently Frederick the Great, once listened to the pleadings of two lawyers. After the first one had finished his speech the king, moved by the advocate's eloquence, exclaimed: "This fellow is in the right!" The second lawyer then spoke, and with such effect that the king said: "This iban has the right of itl" Then, recalling that he had contra­ dicted himself, he fell into a furious passion, and sent both orators.to prison. --Exchange. The Yankees.,. A little Macon girl attended Sunday, school regularly,and as the late war had but lately closed at the time of which I write, her only idea of "soldiers" was " the "Yankees." Among the questions asked was this: "Who guarded the tomb where Jesus lay?" The answer was: "A body of soldiers." The ques­ tion went around the class uutil it reached little curly-head. She looked at the other children with high triumph in her eyes, and when the teacher gave, the question to her she suddenly clapped her hands together and said: "The Yankees did/'--Macon (Ga.) Telegraph. Oansing True Economy. "What did you pay for these cigars, my son ? They are not at all bad-""Three for a half-dollar. Governor." "That is wickedly extravagant. WThy, I never think of paying more than ten cents for a cigar myself?" "Well, I should think ten cents was enough. If I had as many children to watch over and {provide for as you have, I'll be hanged f I'd smoke at all!"--Toronto World. The busy bee is held up as - an ex­ ample of industry, to boys, yet what a terrible example lie is! If boys were like bees, you couldn't stick your nose " into a school-room without getting it thumped. A pretty wife's big account from the fashionable milliner Si, after all, only a bill of fair. - -y • -&L ' . . . * . •• : ,*• . i,* it •> . <•••»•;• . ... •• • r .:.•, • y.