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'IPS* te4,i actor to and fro, I, *rotui<l me flitting, «H* drop my knitting, Vi • OBljr tUjfnktng, dimuning, dreamirtjf, thinktsg. • From meznoi y'S o'er luU cup I'm drinking - t Ha sweetest, sweetest draught, sj > A sweater, and yet more bitter, | ] 4 Mortal man has never quaffed. T ttJbaf procession moving on, Of friends my ctiiUtiood knew, * ; # The dyingembers in the grate, In memory brings to view. Familiar voices greet my ear, Loved oatne8 my heart ones thrilled to hear Are echoed o'er a.nd o'er. Again I see TJsi *Wt»«obed group around my mother's knee I "Jtow 1 lay me," soitly said, , From mother's faithful heart the esfesy ^5 JJ "Angels holy guard thy bed." ' taJHbe Village school I'm sitfitg, ' The weary, tiresome lessen conning o'er, \ 6 And the pnizlo still I ponder, if j "Two t;meg on ? are two, two times two tratov,' ? s I aee tlio rustic church upon the hill, jk Tho little brook that turns the mill, ' S T h e d u s t y s t r e e t , t h e w a y s i d e s h a d e Where merry children romped and played With feet all brown and bare, Or eathered wild flowers in the ftelpip , / & / Nor dreamed of coming care, ^ t/ ,, , Bowing low before tho altar, *. ' I heard the aged pastor's prayer; | The benedic•ion that h?'s said Upon tli- home established there, ,jjfl Around my knee niy children kneel, i-i .i • Their kisses on my lips I fool; I weep o'er graves 'neath the yew tree's shade. Anil th ' broken grouo that death has made. The years have passed, I know not ho*, Hut youth is gone und age it kmt ̂ ' And lain grandma now. ^ l'""- '^fWcker, deeper grow the Bhadowa, . j,'J Bfight is gntbering iast; _ • ' «.«.r In th© mystic chain I'm forging ai . Another link that binds me to the past. : I, Why sit I idlv dreaming here? The past j '• Is but a shadow by the present cast. '•,<*": Though years have llowu and locks arc A duty falls to every day. Th n. till I Bleep b neath the sod, ' - 1'iJ do my duty, do it well, , And lrave the rest with God. t W. S}*ro(ru<\ in Inter Otrail. 1V" V " LOVED HIS GOVERNESS!! Miss aen sepa- When I oaroe to myself I was lying in my room, with Harry sitting by my side. My arm was terribly crushed and swollen. Harry Baid when he got out where he couM see up on the cliff he saw a womnn's dress flutter among the rocks and then disappear. We had no idea who it was. So it re­ mained a mystery. My arm got well, and we were making preparations for our wed­ ding, when one morning a hoy brought Harry a note' written in a familiar hand. He opened it, and this is what he read: MB. HAKRY KNGLEFIKLD : 1 was in the garden when you were talking to Annie. I loved you, but I hated her. I rolled the stone down. I meant to crush her head, but I did not. Forgive my murderous intention. I have left, and yon will hear of me no more. HELKN LEBOY. Harry looked at me. "Poor Helen," he said. Harry and I were married. Years later we heard that Helen had married a wealthy man and was happy. Harry dos&tiata&vy her husband in the least. : i j#*,. p.», I vent to live with my aunt, Leonora Seym our, when my father died. That was half a dozen years ago, but my trouble seems as fresh now as it did then. My father married a simple country girl, bat a more beautiful woman I never 6aw. Father belonged to a proud race of people, old as the Conqueror, aud reaching back to the Plantaguets. When he brought my mother home to Elsmers Hall, Aunt Sey- mour met her so haughtily, and led her such alife,thatmy father soon toother away to Italy. There she died two years after I was born. Father and I were all in all to each other. Be was my companion, guide, teacher, and playmate. I was only 19 when he died, and I was left to the tender merciesspf£fiy aunt I was a Seymour and could not be put to drudge, so she determined 1 should be a governess. I had an advertisement in­ serted in the paper, and in about a week an answer appeared in the person of Harry Englefield. He was well pleased with me, and a week later I was installed in his laxurioas home on the coast of Wales. It was a pleasant place. From my window I could see the white caps of the ocean and the bright waves glancing in the sunshine like diamonds. I was happier than I had been since poor papa died. Mr. Engietield was a kind, pleasant man, •bout 35 years of age, and well preserved. My pupils were his two daughters, May and Kate, aged respectively 15 and 1*2 years. Mr. Englefield was a widower, his wife having been dead three years. I com­ menced my duties at once. My pupils loved me, and we got on pleasantly. I began to think my lines 'were cast in pleasant places, bat an enemy was at hand in the person of Mr. Englefield'8 cousin and housekeeper, Helen Leroy. She was about 21 years of age, handsome and imperious as a queen--a deadly enemy to those whom she hated. She treated me veil, but still a feeling of dislike was plainly visible. My pupils made wonder­ ful progress, and 1 was happy. I saw very little of Mr. Engietield. One morning after I had been there •bout three weeks he came into the school room, saying he had come "to see what ; progress the children were making." He spent a half hour or more with us, and I caught myself wondering often when he woulc. come again. The next evening he came up and told ns to lay aside our books, and come for a drive. It was a beautiful evening, and our way lay through a lovely country. On either hand rose lofty mountains, clothed t with magnificent trees. Before us lay the ocean in all its grandeur, its white caps tossing and breaking on the rocks with a sound like thunder. I sat quietly drink, hag in the wild beauty of the scene. You seem to enjoy the scene Seymour," said Mr. Englefield. "1 do, Mr. Englefield, I have a great love for wild scenery, and this, is the most beautiful view I have ever been." "It is a lovely view, but yea should see ffie ocean when • storm is upon it," he answered. "I would like it," I said, "but I hope no •lorm will arise just to pl6&66 Q6«" I had hardly uttered the words when a load peal of thunder sounded in our ears. A storm came on with terrible violence. The thunder roared and the winds howled like demons. The ocean was a magnifi­ cent sight. As far as the eye could see the white foam and spray rose andfell, and the waves bursting over the rocks fell like clouds of feathers. The rain fell heavily s and we were wet through aud through. "I am sorrv you are so wet, Miss Sey- mour. You will take your death of cold," said Mr. Englefield, in an anxious voice. "Do not fear i'or me," I replied; "a little wetting will not hurt me." We reached the house and I retired to change my wet clothes. Miss Leroy came up to my room, and said sneeringly: "So you got a wetting for your pains, did you? I am glad I did not go. Any fool could have seen it was going to rain." "Thank you, but I do not need your sym­ pathy," I replied, quietly, and she was gone. I dressed myself and went down-stairs to the parlor. "How do you feel, Miss Seymour?" said Mr. Englefield. "I am all right--none the worse for my -bath," I replied, sitting d«wn at the piano. "Will you play some for me, Miss Sey­ mour?" J -Yes- 1 will try." I began to play the last waltz of Yon W eber. When I had finished he said, J"WU1 von sing? Do, 1 will help you." We sang several songs, and th< rated for the night. Things went on this wav for several months, Mr. Englefield and I being more ; and more together. One day I went down in the garden in the evening to read. I aeateu myself at the roots of a large oak t and was soon deeply interested in tho book " 1 had brought. A step crunched the gravel, and Harry Englefield stood beside me lMf "*™,bat are you reading?"he said, quietlv. TI ss o' Lowrie,'" I replied. fy vBllVlo?n by Iue' BaJ"in8» "Put aside - your book; I want talk to you. Annie, do fon know you are dearer than all the world tome?" "I was not aware of it," I said quietly. ^ , not tll,»e1witb me» Amue. Tell me f^uloveme! he said, passionately. V* I do love you, Harry," I replied Wstly. "You have made me the harmiest man in Art ID the Kitchen.' Decorative art appears nowadays in the kitchen and pantry as well as in the parlor and the bed-room. The newest kitchen candle-stick is uncommonly like its ancestral prototype. It. has a base of a deep bow] form, extending up­ ward at one side and turning over in a point with a hook to hold the large con­ ical extinguisher, at the same time forming a convenient handle. A large, cup-like rim sets off the candle and serves to catch tho melted wax. Egg- beaters with scroll handles and egg- boilers in antique repousse brass have appeared, and even the old-fashioned rolling-pin has borrowed a new gayety from its relation, the bangle-board, and has the ends of Its handles carved, or finished off with some sort of orna­ mental turn. - Crumb brushes are mounted with brass of a medieval de­ sign, and crumbs are swept into a tray with dragon handle. Curtains for kitchen windows, of bright chintz, and a cushion of Turkfey-red calico for the cook's easy chair add greatly to the brightness of the kitchen, that room which George Eliot liked "best of any in the house." There is a deal of cheeriness and hominess in a pleasant kitchen. Even Pomona and Rudder Grange found it a nice place to read about "Earls' and Earksses" in, when it was "tidied up;" and it is a room well worthy a little more attention from those who devote much time to beautifying other parts of the house. The daughters of a home may well learn to take an interest in the kitchen more than as a place in which to try their hand at cookery. A cheerful, comfortable kitchen is an in­ dex of the character of the feminine head of the house in the average home where it comes under her daily personal inspection. A strip of bright carpet or a few yards of linoleum on a kitchen floor make it a much more habitable place for the fellow-creature who must spend nearly twelve hours out of twenty- four in its too often barren and bleak inclosure. There are, of course, igno­ rant and untidy beings who must some­ times be endured, who would rather not be bothered with a bit of bright­ ness or beauty of any sort, but nine out of ten of the young women who serve in American kitchens would be more contented and more cleanly if a little extra care were taken to surround them with cheerful conditions.--Boston Rec­ ord. How to Select a Boy. «A gentleman advertised for a boy, ana nearly fifty applicants presented themselves to him. 'Out of the whole number he selected one and dismissed the rest. "I should like to know," said a friend, "on what ground you se­ lected that boy, who had not a single recommendation." "Yoji are mistaken," said the gentleman; "he has a great many. He wiped his feet when he came in, and clcsed the door after him, showing that he was careful. He gate his seat instantly to that lame old man, showing that he was thoughtful. He took off his cap when he came in, and answered my questions promptly, show­ ing that he was gentlemanly. He picked up the book which I had pur­ posely laid on the floor and replaced ;it upon the table; and he w aited quietly for his turn, instead of pushing and crowding, showing that he was honour­ able and orderly. When I talked to hiin I noticed that his clothes were brushed, his hair in order; when he wrote his name I noticed that his finger-nails were clean. Don't you call those things letters of recommendation ? I do; and I would give more for what I can tell about a boy by using my eyes ten minutes than all the letters he can bring me." Little things show char­ acter, and frequently determine a boy's whole career. It is the boy who does the kind, polite, and thoughtful acts unconsciously that wins his way to em­ ployment and success. And success does not mean wealth and fame. A man is valued according to his faithful­ ness and reliability, and these chiefly determine the measure of his true usie- fulness. It is not always those who are most conspicuous in the eyes of the orld who are really the most useful. man who takes money at a ferry gate seen by thousands, but he only does what any one of a thousand could do equally well, while a thoughtful and conscientious writer who may be per­ sonally known to very few may have great influence for good. True success means the development of a character that is worthy of example--a character that is honest to every duty, faithful to every trust, and that is unselfish enough to find time for kindly acts that are not forced, but the simple expression of a warm and generous principle. True success is fidelity to every relation in life.--Christian at Work. replied, ear fee world, Annie." L^tus goP£wn on the fteach," he said, clasping me in his arms we can talk it all ovee together w .We went slowly down to the beach, and mdinga shady cove, we sat down He mraed his arm around my waist.* and idMing me said: "How long have I loved yon, Annie? Can you guess?" # "No, Harry." «£• V ' \ "Jost from the hour I first saw yon. fet ( Just as he spoke a large toek fell 'down from the cliff over our head. Mv arm was 1|V" lying on a rock by my side, and the rock fell with a heavy thud on it. I uttered a •cream, and a hoarse, exulting laugh •ounded over our heads. Harry spring to bis feet, an&that is all I remember. A Stacy of Castor's SnakeV Kxperlence Ifetagr. {New York Boa.] The nerve, hardihood, and daring of the genuine frontier scout was illus­ trated time after time during Gen. Custer's Indian campaign by a favorite scout named Tom lievnolds. He had been in the Indian country for ten or twelve years before Custer attached him to his command, and he bore twen­ ty-two scars of wounds received from red men. He was known to them as "The Snake," and they both hated and respected him. In one of his raids among the strongholds to the south, Custer sent Reynolds back to Fort Larimie with dispatches. The scout preferred to go alone, and the fact that the country was alive with Indians was taken by him as a matter of course. He left camp one night soon after dark, mounted on a swift mule, and having a ride before him of sixty or seventy miles. That was the last seen of him for a week, when he rode into Laramie one day and made his apologies for be­ ing detained on the wav. Reynolds made only fifteen miles tne first night, where he calculated on making forty. On several occasions he narrowly es­ caped riding into bodies of Indians, who seemed to be scouting all over the country, and up to midnight he had to move very slowly. Just after that hour his mule was bitten by a rattlesnake, and the scout turned into a grove of cottonwoods on a little creek to care for him. He Had a small package of the Indian weed used to extract the poison, and by daylight the mule was better. It would be impossible to move for several days, however, and he settled down to pass the time in the grove. There were Indian signs all about him, and the chances were that he would not be left undisturbed many days. It was a small but dense grove, and the scout and his mule were well hidden from anyone skirting the tim­ ber. On the fifth day nine Indians were seen approaching the grove. They Avatered their ponies at the edge of it and then turned them loose, built a fire and made preparations for dinner. Reynolds had made his mule lie down and then covered her with brush, while he retreated to the other side of the grove. The redskins were loafing around for over an hour before any­ thing occurred. They were then joined by twelve others, but as the new-comers did not dismount, the scout was in hopes the whole band would soon leave the locality. They were evidently about to do so when Reynolds' mule got up and brayed, a thing which she was never known to do before or after in the face of danger. It was accounted for in this instance by the fact that one of the Indians was mounted on a horse which had been stolen from the cavalry and the mule evidently recognized its presence. The Indians at once raised an alarm and rushed into the grove. The mule was speedily discovered and led out, and five minutes later the scout quietly surrendered, and walked among his captives with smiling face. He might have held them at bay for a time, but the odds were too great to hope for anything turning in his favor. Several of the Indians recognized Reynolds as "The Snake," and there was great exul­ tation over his capture. An ordinary prisoner would have been insulted and maltreated in the first excitement, but no indignity was offered the scout. He was disarmed, ordered to mount his mule, and the whole body moved to the east. After traveling all the afternoon they reached the North fork of the Platte and went into camp. The scout could speak the Sioux dialect as well as a member of the tribe, and during the journey he kept up a running conversa­ tion with the two sub-chiefs, leading them to believe that he had a personal quarrel with Custer, and was no longer in his service. He claimed that he was on his way to purchase a trapper's out­ fit and return to the mountains. While the Indians no doubt kept a sharp eye on him, no one seemed to do so. It was coming on dark as the band reached the creek, and Reynolds was in the midst of them as they dismounted. He swung himself down and seemed to be engaged in removing the saddle, at the same time asking one of the chiefs why they did not cross over and get better grass. Like a flash he suddenly swung himself into the saddle and'like an arrow the mule darted away. Reynolds had to pass six Indians and" their ponies before he was clear of the camp, but such were his movements that he was pistol-shot away before a shout was uttered, or a shot fired. Every Indian then mounted in pursuit, and the fore­ most kept up a running fire until they were out of ammunition. The mule seemed inclined to make up for his bad break in the grove, and drew ahead so fast that at the end of a quarter of an hour Reynolds turned sharply to the right, rode about half a mile, and then man and mule hugged the earth, and let the Indians gallop ahead into the darkness. The scout then returned to the stream, crossed it, and took a bee- line for Fort Laramie, where he arrived next morning. Two arrows struck his saddle and six bullets clipped his cloth­ ing without drawing blood. When he handed his dispatches to the command­ ant he humbly exclaimed: "Ought to hev been here sooner, but a snake bit Nancy and a band of reds gobbled me. Hope this delay won't make any trouble." Ethics , of Tobacco Smoking. It is not good for a gentleman to smoke in the public streets. It is in­ admissible if he is walking with a lady. He may not smoke i' he is in company with his wife, because the relationship is known to the public, and in the act he shows his want of respect After breakfast, the business man is per­ mitted upon the railroad, or ferryboat, or avenue car, to finish his after-break­ fast cigar. None but Irish laborers or English gentlemen ever smoke briAr- •wood pipes or clay dudeons, except in private. The smell of a cigarette holder is inexpressibly nasty, and under no circumstances will a gentleman ever smoke cigarettes in a mixed society. The cigarette should be confined to the smoking-room or smoking-car, and never, under any circumstances, be in­ dulged in when ladies are present. As an after-dinner indulgence, smoking is admissable after the ladies have re­ tired. Cigarettes are useful because they kill off worthless boys. The pipe is a comfort to workingmen and a so­ lace to old age. Cigars should be re­ garded as a luxury, and indulged in by only those who can afford to purchase good ones. The man who will smoke a bad cigar in any public place, or where its fumes are likely to reach any other's nose than his own, is no gentleman!-- San Fran ( inco Aryonaut. Beginning of Spiritualism, To western New York belongs the distinction of having organized modern spiritualism. The initial "spirit-rap­ ping" phenomena began in March, 1848, I in the family of John D. Fox, in Hyde- _ ville, Wayne Countv, New York. Be­ sides Mr. and Mrs. Fox, only their two younger children---Margaretta, 12 years old, and Kate, 9 years old--were at home when the family were startled by mysterious rappings that were, heard nightly upon^the floor of one of the bed rooms, and sometimes in other parts of the house. They endeavored to trace the cause of these sounds, but failed. It is also alleged that a patter of foot­ steps was sometimes heard, the bed­ clothes were pulled off, and Kato felt a eold hand passed over her face. On the night of March 31, when the raps occurred. Kate imitated them by snap­ ping her fingers, and the raps resounded by the same number of sounds. Kate then said: "Now, do as I do; count one, two, three, foar, five, six," at the same time striking her hands together. The same number of raps responded, and at similar intervals. The mother of the girl then said, "Count ten," and teln different raps were heard. "Count fifteen, and the number of sounds followed. She then said, "Tell us the age of Cathy (the youngest daughter) by rapping one for each year," and the number of eight years were rapped correctly. In like manner the ages of each of four other, and then absent children were by request indicated by this invisible agent. Mrs. Fox asked if it were a human being making that noise. There was no sound. She then said, "If you are a spirit make two dis­ tinct sounds." Two raps were accord­ ingly heard. Three weeks afterwards it was made known by the raps that the body of a murdered man lay buried in the cellar, and the exact spot was indicated where parts of a human skeleton were actually found. The name of the murdered man was given, and it was learned that five years before such a person had visited the house, and had suddenly and mys­ teriously disappeared. After a while the raps occurred only in the presence of the two sisters, Margaretta and Ivate. The family hav­ ing removed to Rochester, the raps ac­ companied them; and new phenomena --including clairvoyance and the move* ment of ponderable bodies without ap­ preciable agency--was developed. In November, 1849, the Fox girls appeared in a public hall, and the phenomena were freely manifested and subjected to many tests, and a committee ap­ pointed for their investigation, after continuing their experiments there and elsewhere for several days, reported that they were unable to trace them to any mundane agency.' Within a few months spiritualism had thousands of converts and a great established faith. The three sisters are now living. Kate, now Mrs. Underbill, resides in New York city; Margaretta (Mrs. Lane) makes her home in Brooklyn, and the youngest, Catherine, is living in Lon­ don, England, with the widow of an Englishman by the name of Jenkin. The sounds as stated are still heard in their presence. From these rappings, as a commencement, has origin­ ated modern spiritualism.--Rochester Union. r Hark Twain's Early Days.̂ ; When Mark Twain arrived te^tHs city from the Sagebrush State he was in his, at that time, chronic state of im-> pecuniosity. He had furnished some* correspondence to the Call, and at once made a raid on that office for funds for immediate use and for a position on the local staff. He wore a ragged felt hat, a blue soldier's overcoat, pants which had formed a passing acquaintance with the tops of his boots, and the latter were guiltless of a knowledge of even the name of a blacking brush. George Barnes, who was at that time city editor of the Call, told him to come to work the next day, and gave him an order on the business office for money enough to make himself look respectable. The next day Twain took possessicfh of his chair, and for six weary months Barnes tried to get some work out of him. At the end of that time, in his good- natured way, he tried to let Mark down and out easily and politely, by saying to him: "Mark, don't you think "you are wasting your time and talents in doing local work?" "What do you mean?" said Mark. "Why, I think with your style and talent you could make more money writing for first-class magazines than in such work as you are doing now." "That means that you don't want me any more, I suppose;" and he put his feet on the desk and smiled blandly at Barnes. "Well, I think you are better fitted for that class of work." "The fact is, you have come to the conclusion that I am not the kind of a man that you want." "Well, if you will have it," said Barnes, "you are not. You are the laziest, most shiftless, good-for-nothing specimen I ever saw around a news­ paper office. I have tried for six months to get some work out of yon and failed, and I have come to the con­ clusion that it. is useless to keep you any longer." "Barnes," replied Twain, in his most placid manner, "you are not as smart a man as I thought you were. You have been six months in finding that out, and I knew it the day I came to work-- Give A CHEEBFUL face is nearly as good for an invalid as healthy weather. Character In a Mnstache. There is lots of character in a riaus- tache--an immense amount of bad character in many of them--not, per­ haps, in the mustache proper, but in its surroundings. One does not realize how necessary is this aid to male beauty until a mustache wearer sheds the ornament. Then we seethe mouth and chin in all its unpleasantness, and most of them are unpleasant. The mouth is said to indicate character more thoroughly than any other feature. It is odd, then, that men so often give themselves away. Society men--by men I compliment the supper-cubs and cane-suckers--like society women run in grooves. If one simpleton returned from the East leaves his beauty with the barber, our resident simpletons rush to their barbers, and we have a colony of nude-lipped youths in no time. With most of them their face is not their fortune, so a trifle more or less of ugliness does not matter. The only class who guard their mustaches as carefully as a mother a sleeping in­ fant are actors. It is money in their purse.--San Francisco. THE church-bells at Oakland, Cal., are rung at 9 o'clock each evening, and children found on the street after the bells are quiet are arrested. This wouldn't be a bad plan for other cities to adopt. THE latent word for the Parisian swell is copurchic. us an order on the office for three days' pay and I git."--San Francisco Post. English Journalists' Salaries. A point as to which much misconcep­ tion prevails among would-be authors and journalists is the profit of literary work, says the London Spectator. For the most part, the work is very hard, and the pay comparatively poor. We believe we are right in saying that, out of London, there is hardly a single edi­ tor, even of a daily paper, whose salary exceeds £600 a year; while in London the prizes of the profession may almost be counted on the fingers of "the two hands. An unattached journalist who is clever, who works hard, who has a good connection, and ( enjoys good health, may possibly make £700. But if he take a longer holiday than usual, is temporarily disabled by an accident, or laid up a few weeks by illness, his earnings are proportionately dimin­ ished, and the average is probably very much less than the sum we have nwnwl, The Bride's Intake, "And what has petty been thinking about this livelong day?" asked a young husband at evening. "•Qh, Richard, such 'j£;lttr« prise." "What?" '• "Why that beautiful Wagner music that has floated into the house all day long. I didn't know there was a con­ servatory near us." "There isn't; that's a boiler foundry." --Tid-Bits. , 8YBKX:»*Bunr P6OB&I gulf between President ^ohfiSon and Congress gradually widened after the reconstruction bill was passed over his veto, although his friends announced that while he opposed the act and had resisted its passage, it was the law of the land., and he would fairly execute jk He appointed Gens. Sheridan, Sickles, and Pope to carry out its pro­ visions, and he was regarded as an ob­ stinate man performing an unpleasant duty. Then he began to doubt, and Attorney General Stanberry, aided by Judge Jere. Black, declared that the reconstruction act was not legal, and that the military commanders at the South were merely policemen. Con­ gress met in midsummer and made the act more stringent in its provisions. The President's advisers then counselled him to change those who were executing the provisions of the act at the South. Stanton was removed from the War Department and Grant appointed in his place. Sheridan was replaced by Hancock, and Sickles and Pope were relieved from duty. -When the Senate met it overruled the deposition of Mr, Stanton, and Gen. Grant gracefully re tired that the "War Secretary" might resume the duties of his office. This made President Johnson very angry. He had wanted to use Gen. Grant as E cat's paw for keeping Stanton out of the War Department, and had hoped at the same time to injure him in the esti­ mation of the people. He raised question of veracity with the general commanding, but Congress and the people speedily decided between the soldier, whose reputation for veracity was untarnished, and the President, who had broken his promises and had betrayed his friends. The facts were as follows: Gen. Grant, having learn on the 11th of January that the Sena had taken up the subject of Stantoi suspension, immediately went to th President and informed him, as he ha pledged himself to do on a former oc casion, of the change that had taken place in his views touching his duty under the tenure-of-office law. The President did not deny this, but added that Grant agreed "either to return the office to my possession in time to enable me to appoint a successor before final action by the Senate upon Mr. Stanton's suspension, or would remain at its head, awaiting a decision by judicial pro­ ceedings." In his reply to this Gen. Grant said, with great explicitness: "You know that we parted on the 11th ult. without any promise on my part, expressed or implied, that I would hold on to the office of Secretary of War, ad interim, against the action of the Senate, or, declining to do so, would surrender it to you before such action was had, or that I would see you again, at any fixed time, on the subject. The performance of the promises al­ leged to have been made by me would have involved a resistance of the law, and an inconsistency with the whole history of my connection with the sus­ pension of Mr. Stanton." That is the case as stated by both parties, and the whole of it. Gen. Grant said the President knew that such a promise as the President asserted he made would have been inconsistent with his whole connection with the suspen­ sion of Mr. Stanton. He had in the outset protested against his removal; when inevitable he had • consented to act ad interim to prevent the appoint­ ment of some one who would, "by op­ position to the laws relating to the restoration of the Southern States to their proper relation to the Govern­ ment, embarrass the army in the per­ formance of the duties especially de­ volved upon it by the laws;" and he had, as agreed, notified the President of his intention to respect the tenure-of- office bill and vacate the War Office the moment Mr. Stanton should be rein­ stated. The President did not deny this, but sought to impugn Grant's good faith by asserting that he further pledged himself not to vacate without notifying him in time to appoint his successor, or to hold on and await a judicial decision. This involved a con­ tradiction in itself. The President did not deny that Grant at this interview on the 11th informed him how he should act under the law of Congress if the Senate non-concurred in Mr. Stanton's suspension. He satisfied himself by this statement, and determined the question of veracity in favor of Grant. The General had visited him, as he told Gen. Sherman that day it was his in­ tention to do, for the express purpose of announcing to the President that he had changed his opinion of the tenure- of-office bill, and should retire if the Senate reinstated Stanton. He had no other object in view, and the President could not have been left in doubt of the course the General would pursue. If he wanted to anticipate the Senate and appoint Stanton's successor, he should then and there have demanded Grant's resignation, and made the appointment forthwith; or he could then and there have issued an order commanding Grant to retain the office. President Johnson finally sent to Congress a message, written, it was said, by Judge Black, covering a copy of his reply to Gen. Grant's letter. The General was charged in his letter with insubordination, in declining to obey the President's instructions in re­ lation to orders from the Secretary of War; and the reasons assigned by the General for accepting and holding the office of Secretary of War ad interim were sharply criticised. The message was accompanied by letters from Secre­ taries Welles, McCulloch, and Brown­ ing, and Postmaster General Randall, in which the President's version of the conversation between himself and Gen. Grant, on 11th of January, was very positively sustained. A letter from Secretary Seward was also given, which materially qualified some of the points made by Mr. Johnson. The reply of Gen. Grant, to this communication was confined to the charge of insubordination, against which he defended himself in a moder­ ate sort of way, and expressed a readi­ ness to obey all legal orders from the President when properly informed of them. Daniel Webster was generally eulo­ gized after his death, but Theodore Parker availed himself of the oppor­ tunity to say hard things about the deceased statesman in a sermon which he delivered. In it were such phrases as the following: "Tool of slave­ holders," "his name the boast of every vilest thing," "forefront of kidnapping," "keeper of slavery dogs," "assassin of liberty," "gone to the grave with such reputation as a man would not wish for his utterest foe," "Webster invested a son in the Mexican War." "His late life shows he had little religion--somewhat of its lower forms, conventional devout- ness, formality of prayer. But it is easy to be devout. It is hard to be moral. His strength lay not in the religious, nor in the affectional, nor in the moral part of jaffls." Theodore Parker was an eloquent man. He may have been a Christian, but it should not be forgotten that he stood over the cold corpse of New England's greatest statesman, and cut up, composedly, the dead subject with the critical scalpel to detect every tendency to disease or wrong, that he might make a flourish­ ing post-mortem discourse. .... ' i w : 4 A Negro Camp-Meeting. It was a bright, glowing morning of July in southern Virginia, SOTS a writer in the Southern Bivouac. The misty air hung in a soft haze over wide fields of ripening grain that bent its golden head to the breeze. Green pastures, interspersed with clumps of persimmon trees, stretched far away in an undu­ lating swell, melting imperceptibly into a dim, distant blue outline. "Down in the low grounds" wagon loads of ripe melons lay shining in the sandy soil, buried in their cool, green leaves, while higher up tobacco plants stretched their broad leaves in the morning light. Occasionally a negro driving a mule to plow could be seen through the long rows of green corn, where yellow pumpkins lay like huge balls of gold. An air of peace and tranquillity seemed to hover over the scene. No harvester's song broke the still morning air. In front of the negro cabins were scattered groups of bareheaded and barefooted children. The youngest ones, basking in the sun, rolling in the dirt, sitting propped up in boxes, or playing with stick-dolls, seemed a picture of con­ tentment, while the larger children, with a comical look of dignity on their shining brown faces, were surveying their new dresses with evident satisfac­ tion. Presently the scene grew more animated, and the dusty high road be­ came a lively boulevard, filled with every species of vehicle, groups of men and women, straggling children, and pacing horses. Large farm wagons, antiquated jer­ seys, dilapidated buggies, weighted down with men, women, and children in holiday attire, wound their way down the higlmay, throwing up clouds of dust in the iaces of the less fortunate "foot-passengers." From every wood and by-way, from over the hills and through the forest lanes, came the motley crowd, all hastening toward a large hill that, covered with a thick growth of oaks, stood out in bold relief, against the blue-sky background. Ond one side a large clearing had been made by cutting down the trees, whoseS stumps still decorated the ground. Aj temporary church was erected bys means of boughs of pine laid across, long poles placed horizontally on up-; right supports. To the right were large tables spread with fruits, bread, and fried chicken, over which a tutelary deity, in the shape of a fat negro wo­ man, presided; on the left were pick­ eted the horses of the incomers. A surging crowd of negroes, laughing and chatting, soon filled the clearing, and the women, fanning themselves affectedly, smiled complacently when their dark-skinned admirers addressed them as "Miss." Presently a hush fell on the assembled multitude, as a tall negro preacher, dressed in a suit of brown trousers, with an old blue army coat, ascended the platform that an­ swered the purpose of a pulpit. After a short exhortation the shouting begins, for a negro would scorn a Chris­ tian who did not shout his hat off his head. The ceremony of shouting is terrifying to a spectator. A sort of fury seems to seize the negroes, espe­ cially the women, who scream at the top of their voices, throw their arms wildly about, jump up and down for hours, and seem entirely out of their minds. 'The men don't have no time ter git 'ligion," an old man once told me, "fur it takes dem ter hold the 'omen folks, ter keep 'em from a-killin' they selves;" and this is true, for in an hour or so numbers fall in a faint and are appar­ ently lifeless. In this state they remain for hours, and on awaking, relate their wonderful adventures, known as their "speriences." The preacher, noticing that the straw, which had been spread on the ground to deaden the fall of any one who fainted, was wanting beneath the front benches, exclaimed: "Brudders an' sisters, dar's fifty souls lost here tu- night fur want er straw, and which was probably true, as the occupants of those benches remained comparatively quiet. When the violent ebullition of feeling had somewhat subsided a short sermon on the judgment was given. A Detective's Successfnl Decoy. A clerk named Stevenson, occupying responsible position in Buffalo, was bonded by the Guarantee Company of North America for $5,000. He was short in his accounts, and skipped to Canada. The company resolved to bring him back, and the plan adopted was as novel as it was ingenious. Crowe, a bright young Irishman, was sent to make Stevenson's acquaintance, and was with him nearly a month before an opportunity presented itself where the defaulter could be enticed to venture near the line. Exactly in the center of the Detroit River is an island, which the boundary line divides. Crowe ar­ ranged a fishing expedition with his as­ sociate, and the two men were to row out in the river, fishing during the trip. Before starting, however, Crowe found the boat they were going to use, and boring a small auger hole in the bottom fitted in a tight wooden plug. Full of glee and Canadian rum Stevenson pro­ cured the fishing tackle, and little dreaming that he was leaving his re­ treat ior the last time rode out on the rippling river. When nearing the island Crowe made a ruse of searching for something in the bottom of the boat and pulled out the plug. Of course the men must drown or go to the island, as the boat was rapidly filling with water. They pulled toward flie little patch of ground and reached it just as the boat sank. Stevenson clambered out and unconsciously walked over the boundary line to the American side, when Crowe covered him with a six-shooter and signalled an officer who had been stationed within hailing distance on the American shore. When Stevenson saw how cleverly he had been trapped he resigned himself and quietly returned to Buffalo, where he was tried for embezzlement and sentenced to the penitentiary for a number of years.--Chicago Herald. An Honest Kan. Farmer boy (to father)--I have tried to fire them logs down in the field but they won't burn. Farmer--Which, those gum logs we rolled up the other day ? Boy--Yes, sir. Farmer--Well, well take some gun­ powder and blow them open. Boy--Then what will yott 4o with them? Farmer--Take them to town and sell 'em for kindling •wOod.--Arkansaw Traveler. .<* MEN of low descent--miners. OPERATOBS in wool--moths. AIA played out--open-air conoerts. EPITAPH for a boatman--life is oar. , SLAXDSB is th« dynamite of though! * THE real estate miser is a ground hog. THE waste-baaket Is oftentimes an epicure. ' STBAKOE fellows •£- firemen. They take a warm interest in fires, yet they1 are the very first to throw cold water " on them. EVEBY sewing-machine agent will positively assert that the machine he - sells is the best. That doesn't make it^l sew, however. SUPPOSING an old man and a young man were to fall into a river, which would be the wettest? Why, the wet- 1 ter 'un, to be sure. _ THE Cleveland Leader tells a roman- Ho story of a soldier who met his wife V on the battle-field. If they are like v,-* some married folks they have remained '; on the battle-field ever since.--Texas ! Sifting s. . : "JOHNNY, did you divide that paper i* i of chocolate with your little brother as I told you?" "o, yes, ma. I ate the chocolate and gave him the paper. Yon .* know how the dear little fellow loves to read."--Siftinga. A MAN may have plenty of brains, . ' may tower head, and shoulders above his fellows, may be a very demi-god in ability; but what is he in the eyes of young and pretty females if his panta- loons bag at the knee ?--Boston Cou­ rier: MOORE--What a queer fellow Fib-' ber is! He just told me that he never tola the truth. Simmons--Did he really tell you that? "He did, for a fact.' ^ "Well, then I have more confi­ dence in his veracity than I be­ fore. "--Detroit Free Press. SCH(EPPENSTEDT says he is relieved to learn that cotton was known in India in 450, B. C. He says he has often in­ tended to ask one of the ballet-girls what she used to use before cotton was discovered, and it saves him trouble to learn that she and the cot­ ton are contemporary. -- Somervttle Journal. . . ^ THE DIFFERENCE. , Pray, Cholly, dear, she laughing The difference tell to me Tween capital and labor, an That I may clearly see. He. sat the maiden on his lines • > And stroked her pretty head, !>: How this is capital, my dear, * he laughing lover said. ^ . ; The gentle maiden gravely Mid, Oh, yes, my dear. X see, Til capital until we've wed, And then'twill labor be. --Boston Courier. u ' Two ENGLISHMEN in Londcfc: "Say, what is the title of your book?" "The Constitution, the Habits and Customs of the American People." "Would you not like to visit the United States ?" "Yes, and I intend to go if the sales of my book warrant such an expendi­ ture. "Don't you think it would have been better if you had visited the country before writing the book?" "Unnecessary. You know my wife's cousin went there several years ago." "Oh, yes, that's a fact. Quite sufficient, I assure you."--Arkansaw Traveler. HE FOUND MA LEVEL. He bad worked at all vocations and had tried all occupations, But was always impecunious and "broke ;* Been a speculating broker, and a funny and joker-- And hia life had been one melancholy joke. He had been a quack physician and a great trombone musician, And had worked upon the sewer for a year; Been a doctor, lawyer, pastor, and a famous dancing-master, Am editor and scribe and auctioneer; Been a pioneer and squatter, and lived on bread and water While writing for the leading magazines; Been an artist, sculptor, painter, and waxed thinner, weaker, fainter, > On a cultured Boston diet of baVed beans; Tried astrology and magic, been an actor fierce and tragic, As a traveling organ-grinder passed the hat; Been an African explorer, who would talk and talk and bore yer, And hod traveled far and wide like Daniel Pratt. He had boen a med'eine mixer, with his "Vital Life Elixir," And dealt in pellets, purgatives, and pills; Been a scientific healer and a porous-plaster dealer, And could cure aU diseases, aches, and ills. He had run an elevator, been a prestidigitator, And the famous bearded woman at the show: Been a medium and diviner, and a fisherman and miner, Bnt in none of his employments made a "go." But the hero of my ditty settled down in New York City, Was elected to the aldermanic chair, And now he's sleek and corpulent, and very riotl atid opulent, A very great and bloated miUlonaiigi > % --ft W. Fast, in Tid-Bits. Woman. A handsome woman is dangerous. A woman has neither love nor respect for the man she can rule. One bad woman can keep ft whole neighborhood in hot water. A woman who is not jealous of her husband is not in love with him. This world is full of beautiful women, but a truly good woman is a rarity. Two things always trained for aotion --a woman's tongue and a mule's heels. Nine cases out of ten when a woman says she hates a man she is in love with him. Woman is the sweetest and bitterest gift of God to man. A woman will confess to almost any­ thing but to the fact that she is grow­ ing old and ugly. The devil is never as black as he is painted, and a woman is never as inno­ cent as she appears. If you want to keep a woman's love keep up a slight but steady flirtation with her most hated rival. When a woman gives you her love don't lay it away on ice for safe-keep­ ing. Better keep it in the warmest corner of your heart, so if she calls for it at any time you can return it in the cpndition she gave it to you. What Queen Victoria Can Do. ' 14 is said that Queen Victoria < wash and dress a baby with any woman, and can generally diagnose the trouble when a child cries. The Queen's skill in baby-nursing was acquired from the famous Mrs. Lilley, who attended her Majesty at the birth of the nine * royal children. This ex­ cellent person was a great favorite with the Queen, who honored her with her confidence upon the most delicate matters. When Mrs. Lilley died, in her 92d year, her Majpsty un­ affectedly grieved, feeling she had lost a true frjend. The old nurse to < the last proved worthy of her mistress* confidence. A Great Scheme. "The fact is, I'm in urgent need of money and I want $1,000 for a month." "Any security ?" "None, but you're a lawyer and I thought you might devise some scheme to raise the sum.* "Nothiug easier. Let me have $900 and I'll invest it so that it will grow into a thousand in three months.*--* Philadelphia Call. EATING is about the only habit a man can't stop with any great amount of success.