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5v; mm£ ** &v s ̂ f /*sr^ ®S8&? OF me NORTH. *»$*; w-?a~3 ig flarodcalw I. «M M.YKE, Mtor «M ftMlthe f+'Sffv THE PASSING YEARS. t»h, a trance Irconsequence of yonth. When days wore lived from hand to montt, And thought ran round an empty ling Xa foolish, sweet imagining. W« handled love in childish fashion-- The nnme al.~ne and not the passion-- Tho world and life were things tOHHtt Oar little wit encompassed Ml 1 W« took our being as our faith V For granted, drew our easy breath I t And rarely stayed to wonder why f ^ p- We were set here to live and die. , - " * V*ue dreams wo had, a grander Oar lives would mold and dominate Till we should stmid some far off day llore godlike than of mortal clay. Strong fato! we meet thee but to fet4| A soul and all that lies behind; i w f J We lose youth's paradise and gain . * ? •J^podd of duty and of pain. * BABY'S FIRST BIRTHD, When the smi sets and trails Bis red lobes through the west, When o'er the S"a the daylight And twilight speaks of rest, A mother sits and sings Her first-born babe to sleep. While every breeze in whispers Good wishes o'er the deep. "0 mother in whose life These new pure joys has come, Kid far-off cities' toil and strife Our hearts are nowise dumb; We thank God for the gift That He has sent to vou. We pray that He may 'will to lift All cloulds that hide tho blue, And that His love may bless You and your bab? to-day With that true perfect happiness Which never fades away 1" I, Weptherljf, in the Quiver. MASTER TOM'S ENGAGEMENT ' An English Story. , Old Mr. Molyneux was immensely prottd of his position as the county magnate. He lived in a feudal castle •which he had bought cheaply, having taken over at the same time the good will, so to speak, of its former owner's social influence and dignity. In con­ sideration of his great wealth, his neighbors charitably ignored the fact that his father had been a small trades* man, and that he himself had carried on a lufcrative business in the hardware line for many years. He was not a bad old fellow, his vulgarity being of a •subdued and inoffensive kind, and con­ sequently he was received in the best county society. But he aspired to even greater distinction, for his pet project was to marry his only son, Tom, to one •of the Earl of Laburnum's daughters. There seemed no reason why this aus­ picious event should not come about, for the Lady Florence looked kindly "upon Master Tom, and his lordship had more tban once hinted that he would raise no objecfion. Lord La­ burnum was the Lord Lieutenant of the county, and an alii;.nee with his family meant admission into the most aristocratic circles. Unfortunately Master Tom was rather a scapegrace, and his father pre­ ferred to let him see a little of the world before revealing the high honors that were m store for him. The fact "was that Tom showed nq^redilection whatever for Lailv Florence, and he was just at the democratic age when a youth is apt to underrate social ' ad­ vantages. The old man hoped that when Tom had had his iling he would begin to awake to the responsibilities ot itis position, and be amenable to rea- e knew that Tom was raising a pectable crop of debts,and that long his paternal assistance sought. When the crises ar- e intended to make known hid wishes, and to take advantago of the lad's embarrassments to impose condi­ tions. Meanwhile, as Tom seemed to .have given his heart a roving commis­ sion, there was no apparent danger of his seriously compromising his affec­ tions. One day, however, the young man came down from town, were he was os­ tensibly studying for the bar, and with a very grave and determined air an­ nounced that be was engaged to be -married. Old Mr. Molyneux nearly bad a fit of apoplexy on the spot, and 'when Tom proceeded to state that the ^r-ounglady earned her own living by •carrying on the business of a dress­ maker at- the West End, his horror and indignation knew no bounds. In vain *Tom pleaded that Miss Fabian was a lady by birth and education, and that "the poverty of her family was her onlv jcrime. His father became more and •imore furious, until Tom showed symp­ toms of flat rebellion. v "Think of your position in the coun­ ty!" cried old Mr. Molyneux, perceiv­ ing this, and wisely making an effoit to ^control himself, "1 will take it for ^granted, if you like, that the girl is an "exemplary character. She may be ladylike and well educated, and all the west of it. But her station is altogether inferior to yours." "1 don't see that," said Tom, stub­ bornly. "Why, of course. It is ridiculous," said the old gentleman, swelling with «elf-i ruportance. "Her father, you say, is a poor out-at-elbows devil of a clerk in the city." "I've never noticed his coat has holes in it," retorted Tom. "As for his being * clerk in the city, so were you--once The only difference is that you have been more fortunate than he, and have made enough money to retire upon." "None of your infernal radical non­ sense here, air !" cried old Mr. Moly­ neux, infuriated at this reference to his •own origin. "It would be just as sen­ sible to say that you and I are the •equals of Lord Laburnum because Adam was our common ancestor. What does it matter if I was once a •clerk in the city ? # I have since at­ tained a superior grade in the social scale, and that is the fact that must be faced. By marrying the daughter of a city clerk, who earns her living by dressmaking, you would be making,a mesalliance." "Just as Lady Florence would by marrying me," said Tom, looking won derfully innocent. ^ Who is talking about Lady Flor­ ence?" said old Mr. Molyneux, taken aback by this unexpected thrust. "Nobody--only I have an idea you , wish me to marry out of my station; retorted Tom. "I don't wish you to marry at all, sir, not for many a long year!" cried the old man, fairly nonplused. "What I mean is, father," said Tom, doggedly, "that I see no more harm in marrying below one's station--to use your own term--than in marrying above. "Stuff and nonsense, sir! You don't know what you're talking about," ex­ claimed Mr. Molyneux. "I don't want to have an argument with you. The long imd short of the matter is that I •won't hear of this foolish engagement. There! It is no use talking. Let there © an end of it, or I shall have some­ thing very unpleasant to say." r, 71m old man bounoed out of the J.T i room as lie spoke, not a little startled and amazed by his son's tone and atti­ tude. Hitherto Tom had never Ven­ tured to argue with him, partly from tijial duly and partly from inherent weakness of character. He began to fear that the lad possessed unexpected firmness, until he soothed his mind by the reflection that he had probably been carefully coached for the inter­ view. This suspicion explained Master Tom's unaccustomed readiness of re­ partee which had made him appear a dangerous adversary. Believed in his mind by tho discovery, old Mr. Moly­ neux gradually cooled down and com­ pletely recovered his self-confidence. He easily convinced himself that Tom would never dare to disobey him, and, instead of feeling the least apprehen­ sive of the marriage taking place, he was only uneasy lest rumors of the engagement should reach the Labur­ nums. He prudently resolved to treat the matter as definitely disposed of, and to make no further allusion to it--at all events, until Tom had had time for re­ flection. Judging from appearance, the lad seemed completely subdued. He spent the next few days slaughter­ ing pheasants iu a dejected and sulky frame of mind. His father smiled with­ in himself and held his tongue, though he showed by his manner that he did not intend to be trifled with. When he considered that he might safely speak, he said one morning, with as­ sumed carelessness: " Well, my boy, what are you going to do?" . "I'm going to shoot over Bailey's farm," replied Tom. "Nonsense. You know what I am referring to," said the old man, turning red. "I am speaking of this idiotic love affair." "Oh! Well, of course, I must keep my word," said Tom, with flushed c£eek. "What! you haven't written to break it off?" said Mr. Molyneux, feigning surprise. "No, guv'nor, I haven't," said Tom. "I hoped you would have softened by this time." "And I believed you would have re­ membered that your first duty was to obey your father," cried the old man, beginning to boil. "Do you mean to tell me that you still contemplate marrying a--a dressmaker ?" "She lias sold her business, father," said Tom, eagerly. "She might have done better had she waited a bit, but out of deference to your wishes--" "My wishes!"' interruped Mr. Moly­ neux, angrily. "I don't care if she car­ ries on twenty businesses. What I say is that you shall never marry her with my consent. That's all." 1 should be very sorry to disobey you father,began Tom, gravely, bi4 " ' Look here, my boy," interrupted the old gentleman, quieklv, speak ng with unnatural calmness, "letu* understand each other. I forbid this foolish en­ gagement, and I order you to break it oil instantly. That is my bark. Now for my bite. You leave my house within an hour, and unless you inform me in the course of a week that the affair is at an end, I stop supplies. If you persist in ma'-rriii!? the g.'rl, then, by heaven! I will alter my will aud leave every farthing I possess to your cousin Ted--in fuct, I will make him my heir and discard you altogether." It is doubtful whether the old man would have really carried out this se­ rious threat, for he was fond of his son, and proud of him in a way, but he looked very determined when iie uttered it, and Tom was^ evidently impressed. The lad dropped his eyes before his father's irate glance, and the ruddy color left his cheeks lor an instant. "You know. Tom,'" he added, notic­ ing the wholesome effect of his words, you are entirely dependent upon me, and unless you took to poaching I don't see how you could possibly earn a crust. Beside, you are up to your ears in debt." I don't owe much," said Tom quick­ ly, with a tell-tale blush. You will fled out that you owe a good deal when your creditors learn that I have made your cousin Ted my heir," said the old man enigmatically. Tom was evidently seriously discon­ certed by this remark. He turned on his heel, muttering something about catching the next train to town, leav­ ing his father master of the situation. The old man considered he he had gained a signal victory, and was, there- lore, not the least perturbed when his son started off to the station with his luggage, in literal accordance with his injunction. He did not doubt that Master Tom would see the folly of his ways; and, surely enough, two days af­ terward the young man reappeared, looking decidedly sheepish, and ten­ dered his submission. He even brought a copy of the letter he had written to the young lady, which Mr. Molyneux thought a little too oftrt and matter of fact, if any fault was to be found with it. However, ho was not inclined to be hypercritical in this respect, and he heartily applauded Tom's action. "I am going away for a bit, guv'nor," said the lad, who had winced a little at his father's boisterous good humor, and seemed half ashamed of his con­ duct. "Webster and some other fel­ lows have hired a yacht, and sail for Madeira to-morrow." "By all means, my boy," cried Mr. Molyneux, secretly delighted that his son should leave England lor awhile at this juncture; "and look here, Tom, while you are away I will settle mat­ ters with these friends of yqurs." He produced rather a formidable list of names and figures to he spoke, and Tom started with surprine, as well he might, at perceiving how full and ac­ curate was his father's knowledge of his pecuniary embarrassments. The old man cut short his son's confused protestations of gratitude and apology by saying good-humoredly: "Well, well, you must turn over a new leaf, my, boy. Reasonable econ­ omy must henceforth be the order of the dav, and I hope, on your return* that you will settle down and reside permanently in the country/' He had it on the tip of his tongne to hint that he must be prepared to marry Lady Florence^ but he wisely re­ frained. Nevertheless he was a full of the project as ever, and after Tom's departure he spoke to Lord Laburnum more plainly than he had hitherto done. His Lordship, without pledg­ ing himself, gave him an encouraging reply; and he resolved to bring mat­ ter to a crisis immediately upon his son's return. The consequence was that the task of settling with Tom's creditors proved quite an agreeable re­ laxation, and did not cause him a mo­ ment's ill-humor. ^ But he was very much startled and disgusted on hearing that his solicitor had been asked to accept service of writ on Tom's behalf in an action for damages for breach of promise of mar­ riage brought by Miss Fabian against her faithless lover. The news upset him considerably, for such a scandal would set all the papers to gossiping about his antecedents, while Tom could hardly fail to cut a ridiculous figure iu . _ the wintess-box. Old Mr. Molvneux, fA of Solitude Pawed Amid • * Hnnw and f«i soon arrived at the conclusion that tho action must be compromised at any cost, for the sake of his own dignity, not to mention the projected alliance with the Laburnums. He rushed up to town in quite a frantic statu, and, dis­ regarding the advice and protestations of his solicitor, insisted that Miss Fa­ bian's claim should be settled forth­ with at any sacrifice, in order to avert the danger of the affair finding its way into the papers. He was successful in his main object, but, rich man as he was, he almost groaned as he sat down to write the cheok that Miss Fabian's advisers de­ manded. The amount was represented by no less than five figures, and the worst of it was that he got no sympa­ thy whatever from his solicitor, who declared that by going to trial, or even by holding out, he might have saved the greater part of the money. In spite of his great relief that the threatened scandal had been averted, old Mr. Molyneux soon began to regret the sacrifice he had made and to fret about his enormous loss. He was not by any means a penurious man, but, like all parvenus, he keenly appreciated the value of money. He did not mind what he spent so long as he had some­ thing to show for his outlay; but in this instance the result attained was en­ tirely negative. Every one is inclined to underrate a danger when it has passed, and Mr. Molyneux could not help suspecting that he had been too easily frightened. This uncomfortable reflection worried him a good deal, particularly when he learnoi thatLoid Laburnum had made arrangements to take his family to the South of France for the winter. This did not look as if His Lordship was very anxious about his daughter's marriage with Tom, and old Mr. Molyneux was seized with an ominous foreboding when he heard the news. Tom returned after an absence of three or four months, and was evidently not a little apprehensive of the recep­ tion he would meet with. He had re­ ceived some angry letters from his father, referring to the damages he had had to pay: and he therefore appeared nervous and embarrassed at their first meeting. But the old man, delighted at seeing him again, sought to put him at his ease by saying: "I'm not going to allude to what has happened, my boy; I'm willing to let bygones be bygones." "You are very good, father, but-- but--" What is the matter?" inquired old Mr. Molyneux, as Tom paused in con­ fusion. I still cling to the hope that you will consent to my marriage with Miss Fabian," said Tom desperately. "What!" roared his father with a great start v You see, guv'nor," proceeded Tom, "I'm in a much bettor position than I was before when I went away. Then, as you justly pointed out, I was in debt, 1 had no capital, and I was alto­ gether depsndent upon you. But my debts are now paid, and as for cap­ ital--" "Well, sir, what about capital?" in­ terrupted the old man, too much amazed to ba angry. " ihere is the money you paid to Miss Fabian," sa d Tom, with a fleeting smile. "The interest on it would keep us from starvation, aud at least it is enough to buy and stock a farm with." "But--but I paid the money because you broke your promise to marry her," urged his father, incredulously. "She would never marry you now." J think she would," replied Tom, in a confident tona The fact is, sir, I have been victim­ ized," exclaimed 9M Mr. Molyneux, suddenly, as the truth flashed across his him. "Not exactly, father--at least, not yet," returned Tom, with great earn­ estness. "I hope you will not withhold your consent to our marriage. If you wonld consent the money shall be paid back to you--every farthing. I don't .wish to defy you, as it were; and both of m are willing to rely entirely, with regard to the future, upon your gener­ osity." Old Mr. Molyneux had turned pur­ ple in the face, and Tom was justly alarmed at his aspect. But before he could utter a word in reply, a man­ servant brought in a note, remarking that a messenger was waiting to know if there was any reply. Mr. Molyneux opened the envelope half-absently, glanced hurriedly at the contents, and then gave vent to a muttered execra­ tion which apparently relived his over­ wrought feelings. After striding about the room for a few moments, in hgreat agitation, he suddenly halted in front of Tom, and cried in a voice of sup­ pressed passion: "You --you impertinent, disrespect­ ful, disobedient rascal! What did yon Bay about the money ?" "I said every farthing would be re­ turned to you," replied Tom, staring at his father, "Very well," said the old man ab­ ruptly; and he immediately sat down at the writing table, and wrote a note with a tremulous hand. "Bead that," he said to his son, wheih he had fin­ ished. Tom, in his turn amazed and bewil­ dered, read as follows: DEAR Loan LABUBNCM: It is very kind of yon to hftHton to inform me, on hearing of my son's return, that you have other views with regard to your daughter Florena*!. I ought to hare mentioned that my eon hiJ5 been engaged to a MIHH Fabian for some months, and that liis marriage will take place immediately. Yours faithfully, J NO. MOLYNEUX. "Oh! fattar. It is awful good of you," cried Tom, with tears in his eyes. I%xpect Laburnum will be riled," said old Mr. Molyneux, sulkily, as he folded up the note. "I doubt if I should have made £10,000 by allowing you to marry his daughter." He Realized His Danger. "Jim Webster, did you hear Parson Bledsoe say in his sermon last Sunday wnar de chicken theives war gwine to spend dar vacation, after dey had shuck demsefs ob dis fleshy taberna­ cle?" asked Uncle Mose. I did hear dat ar sermon, and I was mightily impressed wid it" "I'er don't realize de troof of Jim." "Yes I doe3 realize it, Uncle Mose. I realizes it so much dat I has made up my mind to quit stealing chickens. From now on I let de chickens rest in peace, and turns all my 'tentions to turkeys and ducks.--Texas Si/tings. Considerate Charley. Littlis Charley--"Papa, will you bny me a drum'{" Fond Father--"Ah, but, my boy, you will disturb me very muoh. if I do." Charley--"Oh, no, papa, I won't drum, except when you are asloep."--- Pittsburgh Chronicle. Snow and X*«. A gentleman who h&s hunted muoh for pleasttre in the little-known regions of British North America, says: The trapper has long been imbued with a Ravage dignity, and his surround­ ings have been made as poetical as the genius or the author permitted him. lint it is far from being the case. I have lived much with them, slept under the same roof, and eaten of the same food; and all that I can say is that the closer the contact the more unlovable did I realize was their life, and person­ ally, how unlovable a human being can become when isolated from the refining influences of civilization. They, for the most part, have selected as their help­ meets squaws, and. though you would at first imagine that the white men would attempt to elevate these native women to their own level, with the trappers it is the opposite. The men soon sink to the level of the Indian. You can hardly blame the poor trapper for this marriage. His life is, perhaps, the most desolate one led by white men. Away from civilization, away from friends and neighbors, he pursues his dangerous calling in midwinter, through banks of snow, amid storms of wind and rain, exposed ever to the fury of the elements and to the savage at­ tack of wild beasts. A trapper, to be successful, must necessarily be isolated from his neighbors, for, there are none other in the remote interior but those who follow the same vocation, /and so, if a man wishes to insure a profitable winter, he travels entirely alone. His traps often extend over a run of 75 to 100 miles long, and these he visits in rotation cs often as he can. His method of procedure is as fol­ lows : Having selected a range, he builds a hut in about as convenient a site as lie can select and then lays his traps, which branch out on either side, in the ravines of the numerous streams • with which that country is watered. His headquarters is rather a preten­ tious shanty. ' It is built of logs, and lias a fireplace in it made of mud and stones. This is actually his distribut­ ing point, and this is where he stores his provisions. Then following his range, he builds, about a day's journey's distance from each other, tiny bark shanties, in which he leaves provisions, and sleeps during the night. By Sep­ tember every preparation is made for the winter's work; and early in October commences his dreary campaign against the fur-producers. Long before the sun is up, when the dim northern light is beginning to brighten the forest gloom, the trapper starts from his headquarters. His outfit is but light, consisting solely of a blanket, for, should his caches be full, he would have a load, perhaps, too heavy for him to carry. Arriving at his first-trap, he has to examine it; and,if baits be eaten, he again rebaits it and sets it more carefully; then the next may have game, and, if so, there is more reba t- ing to be done, and the animal lias to be promptly skinned, as the process is much easier when the animal is warm. Hence, all over his long course, stop- p'ng at every quarter of a mile or so, his tedious range is not covered till the week has passed. Coming to his head­ quarters he deposits bis furs thus taken during the week, and again starts out on his long and dismal journey. The ranges of each trapper are as much re­ spected as if he had purchased the ter­ ritory outright and also had a posse of armed men protecting his traps. They run no fear of robbery, though they be away from headquarters for a week or ten days at a time and the hut he loaded to the roof with the most valuable furs. It is a life of endless toil, endless trouble and vexation and danger, though it becomes so peculiarly facin- ating that there are some men who were in the old Hudson Bay Company's service still trapping in the wilds of British Columbia, having followed the business for over forty or fifty years. Seasons do not always run alike, nor is the market always the same. In some winters a trapper may make several thousand dollars, and the next winter he may have a run of ill-luck and come out with nothing. But, notwithstand­ ing their frequent reverses, there is no evil which will cause a trapper to turn his back upon desolation and try the comforts of civilization. it. Pearl Fisheries and Fishing. The Tnamotu Archipelago, to the east of the Society Islands, is perhaps the greatest pearl fishery in the word. Of i:s eighty islands there are only sotud half-dozen whose waters do not produce the pearl oyster. The natives of this group know of no industry but fishing. Men, women, and children, they all dive like sea fowl, and the womeu are the most expert. Two women especially at Faiti, and one of Anaa or Chain Island, are well known in this trade--more dreadful far than samphire gathering--for plunging into twenty-five fathoms of water, in the teeth of the sharks, and remaing as long as three whole minutes under water. A famous diver of Anaa es­ caped not long ago from a shark with tho loss of a In-east and an arm, and many of them go down never to come up again. If they make too many plunges in their day's work at the be­ ginning of the season, which comprises the summer months, from November to February, they bring on hemorrhage or congestion; and, after some years passed in the occupation, paralysis is certain. Few of these divers work for themselves, but can earn 4s a day from the pearl traders. With a wooden tube Bome sixteen inches long, ten inches square and glazed at one end, they prospect from their boats the bottom of these translucid seas; the glass end, which is put into the water, serving the' purpose of suppressing the eye- puzzling surface ripple. The diver of the Persian Gulf or of Ceylon attaches a weight of some twenty pounds to his feet to aid in his descent, and carries seven or eight pounds more of ballast in a belt. He protects both eyes and ears with oilded cotton, bandages his mouth and goes down forty feet with a rope. He remains down from liftv- tliree to eighty seconds, and helps him self up again by the rope. But the Pa­ cific diver prac'ices the conjuror's boa -t of "no preparation." Just before tho plunge he or she draws a full breath rapidly three or four times run­ ning, and finally, with the lungs full of air, drops-feet first to the bottom, not forty feet, but twenty-five or thirty fathoms (150 feet to 180 feet), and comes to the surface again with ex traordinary swiftness, unaided in any way. Each dive generally lasts from sixty to ninety seconds, and only very occasionally the astonishing maximum of three minutes. The divers hardly ever bring up more than one oyster at a time; but this is chosen as likely to contain pearls by some fancied rule of thumb of their own, grounded on age, form and color, and they hold the sheila LIARS are tho cause of all - the sins tightly together as they mount, lest and crimes in the pearl, which the divers themselves aro very quick to conceal by swallowing if the employer's eye is not fixed on them. Diving bells have been introduced by some houses in the trade; but the natives will no longer work m them, saying they bring on, early paralysis of the legs. The Brahmin's Rule of Life. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for to­ morrow we die!"--which is the exhor­ tation of the modern materialist, as it was of the ancient Egyptians' at their banquets--had no place in the great creeds of India. The soul was undying; and purity, asceticism, quietism, were the universal watchwords required in the work of spiritual liberation. The first step in this turning away from the world is when the individual begins to see through the illusiveness of life; be­ comes conscious of the unreality of his surroundings and of the soul's inde­ pendence of the external world and of the sensations which it produces upon him through the glamor medium of the senses. If he be an orthodox Brahmin he says: "What have I to do with the phantasm of nature, this mirage of an external world ? Why should I allow myself to be subject to the painful or disturbing sensations which it imposes on me through the senses, when in re­ ality there is no existence but Brahm, of whom I am apart?" This last phrase is the one most intelligible to a European; but what the Hindu says is: "I am Brahm"--in the sense that a drop taken from the ocean is the same in substance with the ocean. True knowl­ edge sees through the deception of Maya; it dispels the darkness from the embodied soul, and thereupon the soul seeks to liberate itself from this bond­ age of illusion; it comes to know that it is part of the soul of the universe, and, like the reclaimed prodigal, cries: "I will arise and go to my father!" The rule of common life, as preached by the Brahmins, was to fulfill the duties in­ cumbent upon each one in the position in which he is born. No one w as to disturb another in the discharge of his duties; he must not injure either man or beast, and he must be tender even to plants and trees. When he had set up his bouse, had married and begot a son; when he had fulfilled the duties of a housemaster; when he was old and had seen his children's children, then he must prepare for futurity and retire in the forest to lead the life of an ere-. mite, and work out his "liberation," or the salvation of his soul. This was prescribed even for the common throng--although, doubtless, the in­ junction was but little, or very slightly, observed. It was acknowledged that it is not everyone who can become a true yogee, much less a Sannyasin or Ar- hat. But to all who aspire after the higher grades of liberation and spirit­ ual existence, marriage itself was for­ bidden and all sexual indulgence pro­ hibited. as most fully retaining the soul under the bondage of the senses aud keeping it from rising into the fuller and higher life which it enters upon when emancipated from the fetters of the body.--British Quarterly Review. Styles in Pipes. "Yes, I carry every style of pipe out but the stovepipe," remarked a Madi­ son street dealer, and they rango in prices all the way from 1 cent to $150. Heretofore I have imported the most of my meerschaum goods from Vienna. People had an idea that anything that was imported was a superior article, but domestic goods are now very pop­ ular and are largely superseding the imported. Like the dry-goods mer­ chant, the hatter, and the clothier, we are entirely at the mercy of Dame Fashion. An article may be in the greatest demand one month and the next be absolutely unsalable. Yes, sir, we have our fastidious smokers. Why, there are hundreds of men in this city who would no more think of smoking a pipe that was out of style than a city belle would of wearing a Shaker bonnet on her afternoon prom­ enade down State street. The mer­ chant prince's daughter is not more fastidious in her notions of dress than is the gentleman smoker in regard to the style of his pipe. What style of goods is most in demand? Oh, I sell more of the wooden, ranging from 50 cents to $3, than anything else. The average man doesn't care to invest so much in a luxury, and I sell ten cheap pipes where I sell one of tho more costly. How is trade? Well, I have been in Chicago twenty-eight years, and I believe that the past suhrtner was as dull a season as I ever saw. However, fall trado is now opening up and we are doing a good business."-- Chicago New*. The Stray Hens. A couple of Hens having Wandered away from Home and Entered a Strange Coop, began to cackle loudly. "Why is this thus?" inquired one of the Old Inhabitants of thf Coop. "Ob, it's on Account of the Egg we Haven't Laid," was the reply. Their Cackle Presently Recom­ menced, and Another Inhabitant queried: "Is this for the Egg you are Going to Lay?" "Oli, no. This is for an Eggwe have already Laid." A third time the Cackling Disturbed tho Coop, and Inquiry was made": ' "What Great Thing: have yem finally accomplished?" / "Why, we've laid a new shell Around a Spoiled Egg and worked it off on a Con tiding Public as a Good Thing!" was the enthusiastic reply as the Cackle grew to a Eiot.--Detroit Free Press. In a Critical Condition. ' Minister (just before church service) --"How is our worthy brother, Deacon Smith, getting on, doctor?" Physician--"He is in a very critical condition. I was at his house three times yesterday and once this morn­ ing." Minister (with concern)--Indeed! I will ask the prayers of tho congrega­ tion in his behalf.--New York Hun. . How to Conciliate an Editor. "You look awful blue. What is the matter with you?" "That editor has sent back my last batch of poems. I wish I knew how to got his good will." "That s easy enough done." "How am I to do it, to put him in a good humor?" "Don't send him any more of your poetry."--Texas Sifting ft. THERE appears to be an agreement among reeent medical writers that water is fattening, or at least favors a fullness and roundness of the body. It should be drunk at its natural tem­ perature and in considerable quantity. Dio LF.WIS says that wearing large, thick, heavy boots and blue hand-knit stockings will improve a woman's com­ plexion. . ' COACHES were first used in England WW* Uncle Peter and the Tiirkev Hen. •Uncle Peier was the tallest man about tho plantation. We used to have a great joke which we perpetrated on him at every favorable opportunity. We would find him ssnntering along the lane, swinging his long legs in a peculiar fashion, a sort of compromise between a shuttle and a strut, and would run cloao up to liim and, looking up as though we were searching for some ob­ ject almost invisible, we would yell out: "Sa-ay, Uncle Pe-eter, hand us down a chaw of terbacker, and tell us how the weather is up there!" Uncle Peter always took our jests in good part and would langh at us. Then he was the plantation blacksmith, and we would visit the shop and ob­ tain many curious scraps and old plun­ der, so dear to a boy's heart. Uncle Pe-er always contributed liberally to our stock of vertu and bric-a-brac. But ODO time we got a good thing on Uncje Peter. He had built a turkey pen down near the river swamp, and he attended it regularly, building a little more as the shy croatures became more accustomed to going in and out of it. Each visit he left a generous supply of shelled corn m and around the pen. At last he finished it; placed weights on the roof, so that, once inside, they were safe. Then he scratched out a sloping hollow in the ground, so that when they tried to get at the corn, they would naturally find the IMe and creep under. Once they got in they would proceed to gobble up the corn; then they would start to leave the pen, find themselves entrapped, and get in a terrible fright, and so forget the way they entered, and go to beating the rails with their wings in a vain strug­ gle for liberty. One afternoon in December I climbed np a tall persimmon tree Ufat grew on the hill, from which lofty perch I could overlook the great plantation. The sun sank lower and lower, the long shadows crept slowly up the slopes where the rich brown grass lay tangled and matted, %ith yellow mavpop vines trailing here find there, and the brown cornstalks standing in serried ranks with their tattered top blades flutter­ ing like faded pennons in the breeze. One by one I plucked the luscious per­ simmons that hung in sugary mellow­ ness from the leafless branches of the old tree. Away beyond the variegated line of forest trees that marked the beginning of the swamps, the blue mist hung above the ridges that rose in bil­ lowy undulations beyond the river. Down in the "old hammock new ground"--that was the way we rather paradoxically described it--a negro blowing his quills and filling out the scale of notes with a soft halloing that was of the rarest sort of music to me. "Ginny, niggah, who-ah! whoopee, whoah" (then tho trul-lul-lul-loo-loo of the quills). "Ginny, niggah, whoope?, whoah! whoopee, who-oo!" Trul-iul- lul-loo-loa. "Hello, Uncle Petah, way yo' gwine!" "Go 'long, boy, 'ten to yo' own bus'- ness/' Then the boy went on with his quill blowing, and UnclrPeter came strid­ ing along near where I was enjoying my repast of fruit I watched liim with the keenest of interest. He strode down to the hollow, disappeared in the big gully, and then entered the swamp, then came into view again in the dusky cornfield beyond. Suddenly he stopped and raised himself to his full height gazing toward the turkey pen, moved a step forward--stepped, and shaded his eyes and gazed intently {or au in- stant, and then broke intd a dead run for the pen. I was so excited that I came near tumbling to the ground. Then I watched him as he took the turkey out, felt of its plump body, held it carefully while he scattered a fresh supply of bait around the pen, and then came walking briskly back. When he arrived in earshot I could hear him talking to the turkey: "Oh! yes, I done cotch up wid yo' at las'. Crismus comin' soon. Yo' my meat now. Lem- me see, I bake some, I stew some, I fry some, an' I brile some. Yo' so fat, so tender, so juicy. Phew (with a smack of his lips), vo' fine meat mos' any way. 1 got two little maids to pick yo', my wife she dress yo', den we all put in an' cook yo'. Ah-h! I done cotch up wid yo'dis time. Yo' my turkey"--crash! come his foot against a corn stalk, and the turkey flopped out of his hands and dashed away across the fields, towards the swamp. Uncle Peter scrambled to liis feet and ran a step or two, jerked up a cornstalk by the roots and swung it over his head to throw at the turkey, it broke and the root struck his head, filling his wolly locks full of sand and gravel. He gazed at the rapidly van­ ishing turkey *a moment with open mouth. Then he clapped his hands and bawled out, "Darnation, go to-- shoo! go it yo' darned old tickv legged heifer. Yo' got red bugs on yo' shoo. Ye's to po' to cook", yo' scaly legged debbil, yo' not fitten to eat, nohow." Then with an indescribable look of dis­ gust lie turned and strode away to- wai-d his cabin. Oh, my, I just slid down from that tree and I rolled on the brown grass and squalled with laughter.--Atlanta Constitution. Abuse of the Muscles of Baby Eyes. The two muscles--a set for each eve--act in perfect correlation, and en­ able the organ in an instant of time to cover an infinite range of vision. No line adjustment of the telescope, no system of lenses and prisms, can ac­ complish this feat in an instant of time. The utmost caution is therefore im­ peratively demanded of every person to whom is consigned the care of the young child from infancy to perhaps the third year of life. It is during this time that damage to the muscular ap­ paratus of the eye may be done. The mother or nurse is eager to have baby see everything from the nursery win­ dow, from a carriage or car. How many tired heads, languid eyes, and disordered tempers ie*4lt from this mistake\--l)r, JE. <S. Feck, in Iiaby- la nil. Well Timed. An editor who does not bear a repu­ tation for bravery, wrote a scathing article in denunciation of a well-knpwn desperado. Shortly after the paper c ame out, some one, meeting the edi­ tor, said: , "Colonel, you'd better be careful what you say s.bout Origsby. He has killed* eight or ten men." "Yes. so I understand." "You'd better look out." "I am in no danger, for my article was well timed." "How so?" "Grbsfcy died last night.--Arkan- saic Traveler. A trwwdwl Countenance. Mother--"Whom do run think baby resembles?" Uncle--"It has latner's uo.*e." Mother--"And my mouth." ^ Uncle--"Yes, fact; and I also notice that tfitli papa's nose and mamma's mouth it leaves precious little room for 'cxeheaii Tribune. SMMjPVlpnVBNPinPliMMNKp-r* ' PITH AUD POINT. A' A SAILORS at liberty: Man-of-war's-' men visiting the Bartjioldi iMotf--" Mc&eriek, GIOAHTIO movements are often cre­ ated by explosions in giant-powder mills--Maverick. A GROSS offense--selling 140 eggs for twelve dozen. A grooer offense--' l>ji putting sand in sugar. A MONTANA, boy, who is attending"r * W? school in St Paul, lately defined corned beef as drunken steer. THERE is a noisy milliner in St Paul?' s,i" who recently made such a bustle that1 it was noticed by a deaf and dumb : girl. • A BOSTON man writes the Globe that • " he has played 46,000 games of oribbag*. Lives are not always allowed to run to waste.--Lowell Courier. A MAGAZINE poet has been writing a 3 poem entitled "The Tender Heart.". We will be hearing from the under­ done lung next.--SL Paul Herald. IT used to be "Worth makes the man," but now it is Worth makes the J woman, and the woman makes Worth. (Paris papers please copy.)--The Folio. FATHER--"What is your favorite hymn, Clara, iny darling?" Clara-- "The one you ohased away over the fence last night, dear pa."--Lowell' Citizen. *" THE average man can speak volumes of things which he does not under­ stand, while h® can condense his real knowledge into very few words.-- Chi- ' *- cago Ledger] . ^ A LIVING frog.has just been found in the heart of a solid rock, where it must'*"' " have been for ages. It is needless to " ^ say he never advertised, or he could not n have remained so long unnoticed.-- Dansville Breeze. AT a ball an artistic dado of the wall of the stairway and hall of a country house was made of pumpkins, every other one being a jack-o'-lantern, and ripe corn husked hanging in bunches. The entrance was arched from the floor with autumn leaves. "WHAT is usually the nationality of a bootblack, my dear ?" asked Mrs. Cau­ tion while her husband was studying the source of an Alleghany game. "O, it varies," replied Caution, "sometimes they are Polish, and sometimes Shi' nese."--Pi t ts bu rg h Chronicle. IT has been stated that a thigh-bone nine feet long was found in Colorado some time ago: If all tho other bones could be found and put together, the skeleton would look nearly as big as the free-born American fpels when the is marching in a procession.--Chicago Ledger. THERE is a pleasure in reaching after higher 'things, says a philosopher. It may be so, but for our part we never felt any pleasure in reaching around our shoulder to get hold of the end of a broken suspender which we could just touch without being able to seize. --Boston Courier. THE SUPERlW GIRL;- "Where aro you goini,' to, my pretty maid?" "I'm going to lecture, sir," she siiid. "May I come with you, niv pretty maid?" "You won't understauil it, Kir,' sho said. "What is tho subject, my pretty maid?" "Thefinal extinction of man," alio said. "Then you won't marry, my pretty maid?" "Superior girls never marry," she said. --Toronto Week. WIFE (to husband eating shad)--"I should think you would be ashamed of yourself to get profane over a few bones. And in the presence of the children, too!" Husband (savagely};-- "A few bones! Blank it all/ there" millions of 'em." Wife (consolingly)-- "Well, what if there are? They" are1 very small ones."--New York Times. IF a man wants to attaift ripe old age, let; him order his coffin made when he is in his thirties. ObsoL-vation shows that all who have taken this precaution have been obliged to keep tlito coffin on hand for fifty years at least. It makes a good receptacle for old shoes, and canj easily be converted into a very success-! ful cradle, by adding rockers.--Norris-\ town Herald. "SUCH ignorance!" exclaimed a| South Side girl, looking up from her l paper. "What is it?" asked her father. "Why, at a civil-service examination in Georgia, one applicant said that Sliaks- peare was the author of 'Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard.'" "That don't seem right. Who did write it?" "Why, Tennyson, of course."--Pitts­ burgh Chronicle. A CERTAIN Methodist preacher of this country tells it upon himself that while on his travels, recently, he stopped a while before sundown at a house to spend tho night, and after en­ tering the house, the dog came in, ap­ proached him good-naturedlv, and then, as if he had ascertained who the visitor was, immediately went out and got after the chickens in the yard.-- Anderson (a. C.) Journal. "ONLY a collar button, Slips from its liole in my shirt,' Now I must shuffle off to find it, Dodging my fingers alert." All, think <>f a dude undressing. In less than a cool hulf-hour, Whoa his last, spare, shy collar button, „ Glio ses to show off its power. But picnics and trains wait for no one; Wildly his garments fly, O, where is the blamed coUar button? It's mocking his woes on the sly? It was only a collar button-- As the picnickers' train flew by-- Was the cause | of that dudo'8 undoing, And vet --it waB all in this eye. --St. Louis Whip. Superstition in China. In answer to the question: "How much had superstition had to do with retarding the progress of the Empire?" Legation Secretry Glenheimer says: "Not nearly so much as the people of this country believe. When the high officials are opposed to any modern en­ terprise the 'fungschewey' is con­ jured up as an insuperable obstacle. The 'fungschewey' is one of those things that is untranslatable. It is nearly a compound of two words meaning wind and water, and it is cultivated by the governing classes solely for its effect upon the ignorant and superstitious masses. If a Chinaman wants to build , a house or dig a grave, the 'fungsche­ wey' of the dictrict must lirst ba con­ sulted--each district has a 'fungsche­ wey' of its own--and the job is done in accordance with the translation of that spirit's desires. - "The 'fungschewey' kept the tele­ graph lines out of the country as long as the high official were opposed to them; but when the Kundja troubles emphasized the necessity for the in­ troduction of this improvement ar­ rangements were speedily made for the building of the lines, regardless of whnt the notions of the 'fungscheweys' might be. The telegraph service of the J'mpire is now very complete, and it will not be many years until a good railroad system will be in working or­ der." Ti> Fill a Long-Felt Want. « A", ha 1 Another faster! A man in Ohio has gone twenty-eight days with­ out eating anything. ? The name of the paper he is editing is not stated.--Bur« dette, <1 f I ' si. in. *. ^ »J»«. ..A' St