tSX WOOAR-GIBtS COHFLAO* »T ra*»fOI« 8. SMITH. . t Claasluw corns a?atti; ItHmu'• childroIh erf, _JB in their ruidy cl -As tfc«y ran shoutfciu i>«. I do not «*tf them iln-fr t oyf, . Nor Would 1 ehi-ek t-ht>ii g'lS$ But oh, I vHb Unit San tu Ci»t» WouH Yft*tt Stie and me: They say lie's merry, kind. Bat I fcin very nuro, Ibough thin may be hjs character, H« floe* not' like the poor, Wor if he diij, he'd ca.ll on thi^ S* And give them of Ids st-v.<, iMtwloJ striding coldly ont-.\4*& Jtat every poor mum's *dooft£$>. *lt* ,. I« not want his pretty toy#|<. » *' , . _ 8ta candies or his Crohn; if? :* \ I'd rather have, bv far. ft fro<8|f Or pair of winter l>oots. ffes % VP: Or a bonnet for the street. Or a pair of woolen stocking, Or a loaf of bread to tat. >h-4k' • . f • %• M • Oh 1 if I were old Santa Clam I know what I would do : I'd visit »ich men's houses, But I'd visit poor homes. too. And if I blessed the rich man's chili With toys and daintier k I'd give the poor warm Cloth And food enotigh to oat. I'd fro to every lonely trot. And every palat e t;i"and. Ai d scatter presents evervwhW# With an unsparing hand. And Christmas morning, tvh Gave out a joyful sound. c ' Not one sad face or blading h6art bliould in the world be found. Oh! if I were old Santa Claui, ' - . r » I'd make ail sad liouieg bright; ^ ss " V¥ Boys should not swear, and lie, and it Nor parents drink and tight ; Nor should poor homeless wanderers Be treated cruelly. While plodding through the bleak, daifc streets, Like little Sue and we. , H%! •• , " ' ' •J'! But I am not old Santa Claus|§:'V;'" • I'm but a beggar-girl, Y-"A ?•*/ ' Who's buffeted and kicked &b(kt[t ; In the great city's whirl. iv'," ' . : Kot one kind voice addresses IBM,' • None heed the pangs I feel, ; .And so to keep myself alive r , ' ' X have to beg or steal. , • • Oh, men! -who believe that Christ the Lord Was poor while on the earth, ,, Steel not your hearts against US On the morning of His birth; But as your well-clad little ones k Throng round you in their glee, . <jttv« one kind thought to snch poor As little Sue and me. .S-.f- wago «me AN IDYL OF NEBRASKA. Utt Story of a Christmas Conspiracy in the Towa of Babble. ' , VX SATs *. CLE*W6 UBBLE was booming, and it was Christmas Eve in Babble. The certainty of the former accentuated the pleasure kof the latter fact. Crops Ihad been good, and the ' f t s t i v a l m e a n t c h e e r , abundance and com parative content. Bo the farmers who jogged • in on or jolted behind K41teir heavy-hoofed horses admitted the leading statement with a supremely sat isfied conviction that other towns were »ot booming as was Babble and an abso lute indifference to the probability of its being Christmas Eve elsewhere. A de- Sicious day it was, too, although not the •typical winter ooe whic-h imagination invariably associates with the dear old "fea9t. ^ There was no snow; the air was -crisp, keen, in its froaty sweetness exhil arating as wine; by a sky of s'lbdued yet intense blue was the billowing prairie domed and bounded; ogajnst that se vens and perfect backgrouud fields of rifled but unriven corn flung out their tattered, tawny banners; the Winding, browoMh roads rang like steel to sing desolate ways blasted -r««red- are, which Q ' °rr^^HHRPRBPw>^ gold, old man, wffo, mounted on the at of a ponderous, creaking farm *rove over the hill and down the ugly, bustling street which boasted the business, the barter, and the commercial enterprise of Bubble, thought not ai all of his surroundings, not even of Alu He did not stqp at either gen- eralptore, at the tinsliop, the saloon, or ihe itraR store. With an occasional nod iliar faces he steered his team t down the street, passed the pre- s hotel, the gaping livery barn, the lumber-yard, and drew up be- platform of the railroad depot. ^Wioa-ah, thar! Train most due, Wat Hope 'tis.* Oi've a sort of a niece 1--me consin Moike'a child. Did w that?" t station agent's assistant smiled at him. Did he know that? Who ®ot know that old Bati'erty had some tills ago sent money to Ireland to bring young relative of his. A queer iter, old Iiatt'erty. Seventeen years life had been passed as a sailor, claimed to be one of the survivors of battle between the Merrimac and the 43(Unberiand, and that it wa^ he who fired tost shot on board tbe latter vessel, it, with colors still bravely flying, beneath the waves. Dearly did he to tell of the affair, particularly of art which concerned himpelf, of the ^ i hoars spent ander the Water before pescue was effected. At the close of th? »ar he took up "a claim" in Nebraska, V *na by slow degrees, in loneliness and ;? ftttvation, had accumulated not a little 4,. health. Out of perilousness he had seen If •©••ce come. A friendly and familiar pgtfre was he to all. Somehow people al- V" yavs smiled at old Ratferty--cordially, 4oo. There was a comical kind of fasci- 'Iftation in the face visible between the Hbabby felt hat and the huge "comforter*5 y pwple red, and yellow yarn--a shrewd, t fallow old f ice with grizzled beard, bushy Arows, and youthfully alert, bright eyes. * jChen his accent was delightful, his own Tp:-X;i»oad and hearty brogue being flavored t Z .̂11 Western inflections f holly foreign % j. ito it. i "I "On time, sir." ; " A whistle--another. A puff of smoke; •,* * distant roar; a vibration of the rails; a Jihriek of steam; a glare of light--then jf, train was thundering up -- had *> M oused, panting, snorting, disgorging, v fc A girl stepped out and down ftn the "; platform. V; -j "Hi, thar!" called old Kafferty. She fc, ' lurned at the sound of his voice, went % f . / -6 *Yis. sor." , ' •- -. < ^ Without Hlighting. he stooped ortfthe • .r.anae of the wagou and extended a mg j.i 'iWw-mittened hand, "Ola# to see ye. Willum's comin ^ " - '̂jJlown to a dance to-night. He'll fetch jftfbox. Jump UD!" * 4 ^ The train trembled, soreamed, pulled tod went swinging westward. The ent, carrying his booli and express ^es, returned to the offleel A l>oy ag the solitary uiail-bag on his shcul- Bjr and snuntered off. Casting half- trious, half-stolid glances at the new- r, the usual crowd of .depot loungers Ited away. Only the drayman loading one-truck" remained. And old K«f- witli Hanna perched up beside him, * the horses for home. 'Aiia' how did ye lave all the frinds in "Coolathogle, Hanna? Is Father O'Flynn «tiU parish priest? Dead! elteerfal chirp q«ail; r,'AU well, «or --the Murphys, tkt Mora^a, tbe 8ne^> hjs -"Hanna!" Bomethina of shrinking came Into Banna's frefti young face, but shi turned to him eyes wholly questioning and inno cent. "Sor?" "Hauna!"--and tbe voioe was appalling ly stern, almost threa ening--"niver let me hear ye mention them individuals again--niver! The Sheehys are the natherat born enemies o: our fambly. Me gtnndmoUier told me the coolness began at the battle of Clontarf. Our ancestors were rival kings, I believe. However, the feud grew' downward. Tim Sheehy s father's bull thrampled down my father's whe it, and my father had the trespasser fined at the assizes. Then there was Tim an' me. I beat Tim at hurlin', and what, iver do^s he do but go an' marry Sarah Connolly. A foiner girrul ye couldn't foind in the three parishes--good enough for his betthers. Don't you talk of the Sheehys to me, Hannah--don't!" Hanna di n't. Her full red lips were set in a stubborn line, but her eyes-- genuine blue-gray Irish eyes they were-- Blazed with mutinous indignation. West ward, past the bare new Methodist church, the square, solemn school-house, a couple of little, box-like houses, then they weie out of the town proper and dming directly northward. When they orossed a small bridge, and, turning to the right, passed between two looming haystacks into a great, shadowy farm yard, it was already evening. A wind-- the sudden, chill, sharp wind which fol lows sunset in Nebraska--had sprung up. Fading into fathomless gray Was the one bar of dull rose which streaked the west ern sky, and overheid the silver moon "JLay out there like a sickle for His hand Who cometh down at last to reap the world." In the comfortable firelit, lamplit kitchen Mrs. Baft'erty awaited them. She was an American, a little thin, white- faced old woman, clad in the inevitable print wrapper of the Western house keeper. A brisk, quick, weary, good- hearted little goul, worn out as ore most American women by overwork, burned out by over-anxiety to do more and do it better. And how here was aid, here re lief, here younger, stouter arms. "So this is Hanna!" She went up to her and kissed h-r. "How do you do, my dear? I'm tickled to see you. You're tired out, I expect. Is she like your cousin, Pat?" "Loike!" echoed old Rafferty. "She's his dead livin' image. She's as loike my cousin Moike as a young cottonwood is loike an' old cottonwood." "You remember William, don't you, Hanna?" Mrs. Batferty s id, as from an ad joining room came a spruce, trim, dandi- licd young man. He was dressed for "the dance" to be held in town that night. Speckless his clothes, black mirrors his shoes; ha wore a white shirt, a white col lar, and a sanguinary cravat. A year ago he had been iu Ireland see- ine after some property left his father, xnd there he had met his cousin, Hauna ltaSferty. Hanna nodded and extended a plump hand, which Will came forward and shook awkwardly. Then he retieated to the lire and covertly surveyed her. A round young figure clothed in a dress, skirt rather, of bright blue cash mere, which was surmonnted by a snugly fitting jacket of scarlet flannel, dark ba r, parted straightly and brushed I ack from a fall, fresh-colored, girlish face, a face with thick black brows and brilliant eyes, and a mouth which, if a trifle too large, held firm, while teeth, and was quite mirthful and risible. "S'posin' you take Hanna to the dance, William?" suggested Mrs. Rafferty. v •' "Can't!" (more curtly than courteously). "I'm engaged." And he carried* his line, erect, handsome young sel( coolly away. His father followed hup. Oat. The door remained ajar. / "William, why 9ati*t ye take her. Wo?" "Her!" in c^llb scorn, "to a dance in BubbW. Why, she ain't got gloves--nor no style to her--a freckle-faced little thing, whose woids curl up at the end like a shoal's tail -- no, sir." The women with in heard. Hanna crimsoned. "Don't mind, dear. Set down and drink this tea. And now, Pat, ask Hanna if the boy obeyed you when he was in Coolathogle." "I want to know, Hanna, did William see Sar h Hheehy's daughter much when he was home?"" "His father told him if he spoke to one of them he'd leave this farm, which we homesteaded before the Indians were out of Nebraska, to some one else." Should she tell? How he had spoken of her? Why not? * "He wasn't ever away from young Sarah Sheehy while he was in Coolathogle!" •he answered deliberately. "Ah, now!" "The young desaver!" "He's engaged to her." "What!" "He's » -goin' to go home next summer an' marry her." "Never!" * Old Kafferty leaped to his feet. His wife sank weakly into a chair. A queer, turd look came into the girl's face. She did not hesitate, though. She put her hand in her pocket and drew oat a letter. "Sarah Sheehy gov me this to give Willum," she said. "Hand it here!" roared old Rafferty. He was fairly fnrious, stamping, foaming. "A fit descindint 6he of Tim Sheehy-- thryjn' to inveighle my son into marryin* her. Hand it heret" He snatched the letter from her. She sat there white indeed, with panting breast and glistening eyes, while old Raf ferty and his wife perused the brief but loving epistle. When they had finished they turned to Hanna. Both were trem bling with excitement--actually speech less. But suddenly old Rifferty jumped up, and went spinning around the kitchen like one possessed. "I have it!" he roated. "O. Ellen Jane! O, I have it! we'll make him marry Hanna --faith we will!" The blood came back with a rush to the girl's fae«. She half rose. "O, no, sor; O, no!" "He must," still keeping up his frantic dance of delight. "Ye must make him, Hanna. Ye'll have the farm one of these days, and ye'll live here with the old woman an' me, an' we'll show the Shee hys they can't come any of their th ricks over the Raffertys--not by George Wash ington and the banshee of the O'Bourkes! We'll show 'em. Hanna! Be married on Twelfth Day. You an' Will can drive up to Father Kishalender at Hebron an' be back by supper. Not a wurrd, Hanna; we'll show the Shee hys!" The day after Christmas old Rafferty told his son he must marry Hanna. In vain the j?oun» fellow protested, en treated, refused. But his opposition added fuel to the flame. If he wouldn't he must starve, be disinherited--and the farm was worth $7,000! By New Year's Day the father had succeeded in wring ing from him a most relnctaut consent. A blizzard blew up. The roads were blocked, almost impassable, but no ex- onse would avail with old Rail'erty. Go to Hebron on Twelfth Day they must. And go they finally di#", both silent, both pale, both evidently in utter protest against the world, the Raffertys, and each other. The sixteen miles between Buk>ble and the county seat wera traversed. They were married. They drove home. At the Shake hands! Good gurrul, Hunna! Ouch, but the Sheehys can't come any of their thricks over ould Rafferty. lie's too smart for them. The fight is still What U they say? O, Hanna, this' happy day! You ain't changed yer though you air married." "Oh, yes, she has!" Will's voice had a peculiar ri: silence fell on the gay clamor, old Rafferty regarded his son Was that the dismal and frowning fellow who had driven off this m that erect, laughing, glowing-chi young man? And was that forlorn iind frightened and protesting Hanna? ^That lovely, smilin/, crying, blushing, alto gether happy and winsome little creature, "Wh-a-nt do ye mean, Willum." "O, jest that she did change her name --that's all! She was Sarah Sheehy-- now she's Sarah Rafferty!" ' ' * ' "Willum!" "What!" But Will put hit arms around his pretty wife and bravely stood his ground. "We fell in love with each other when I was on that tr.p to Ireland. I knew you wouldn't hear of my marrying her, so we planned I\J get mother to send home for Uncle Mike's Hanna, and she, who was a great friend of Sarah's, would let Sarah come in her piaee. And we thought we'd wait till you and mother had learned to love her and then tell you the truth and ask you to bless our mar riage. But," with a burst of irrepressible laughter, "you wouldn't let us wait." "But, Willum," faintly andbewildered- ly broke in his mother, "you said--an' she heard--an' she said " Ringingly he laughed agaip. "Of course we did. That was the plan.' Father!" H« held out his hand. The old man, mute, wild-eyed, dis mayed, looked at it in hesitation. "But--but," he faltered, "she is Tim Sheehy's choild, an' Tim he went an' married Sarah Connolly " "Well," sharply cried Mrs, Rafferty senior, so sharply old Rafferty jumped, "what differ did that make to you--eh?" "0, none--none at all, Ellen Jane!" Fiercely he grasped his Bon's hand, fer vently he shook it. "I--I hardly knew Sarah Connolly--just by sight, Ellen Jane--O no, that made no difference at all--O my, no!" • And then he kissed ^the bride, and laughed, and wiped his eyes, and told the neighbors to draw in to supper, and in sisted on hugging Ellen Jane on the sly till she smiled back at him. "Maybe," she said to him when they were a moment alone, "maybe yoa didn't bear that man a grudge on account of that Connolly girl, and maybe you only knowed her by sight, but ain't it a kind o' queer that Wilt's wife is as like your cousin Mike as a young cottonwood is like an old cottonwood?" Old Rafferty looked at her. Then he scratched his head. He looked at her again, and cogitated awhile. Then he chuckled and smiled--and smiled. ' Begorra!" he said. , " Frosty .Hainan Nature. A Free Press reporter was -in a stove store on Michigan avenue yesterday when a man came rushing in and said to the proprietor,: "Have you gone into 'lying for a trade?" "Oh, no." "Well, you lied about that stove.n "Man on his way up there now to put it up. Bushed to death, you know. Hope you haven't suffered." The next caller was a woman, who fastened a cold glare on the stove man and deliberately said: "111 never do a cent's worth of busi ness with Vou again if I live here fifty years!" "Stove-pipe is in the wagon there and ready to go up, ma'am. Woke up in the night to hope you wouldn't be put out." The third caller was a ?xfy, wlx> stood in the door and called: "Hey, you! My father saya he'd like *0 knock your head off." "Oh, yes, you are Mr. Blank's sotl. Just sent a man up to your house with that damper ten minutes ago. Lost the sale of a stove to hurry him off." "Are those fair samples of your call ers?" was asked the dealer. "Just about. I catch it about twen ty times a day at this season o* the year." "And you never talk back?" "Never. I hustle and do the best I can, and if a kicker comes in I hold my peace or talk taffy. One wo.-i back talk would lose their trade. Everybody waits till the last minute for a stove or repairs, and then every body comes with a rush. There comes a woman to blow me up about fixing a door to a stove. That door has been broken for five years, but it's only within the past week that she has de cided to have it fixed. Shell be sav age, but I'll mollify her some way and get that stove down by Monday. So long--my busy day."--Detroit Free Press. Everybody Celebrates It. There is a charm in Christmas. We have all read of the old miser Scrooge, who was carried by three spirits on Christmas Day, a* on the wings of the wind, and in all the str mge transit the influence of the day was seen and heard. Not only on the streets of pomp and pride, but in the narrow huts on bleak moors, up and down in the mean, cold tenement houses, there was a glow and a heart of song. Among men digging and dehing in the pit, to force from old mother earth her riches, men transformed into the active pick, ax and spade, was a new breathing, a day as the days of other men. On shipboard, as the bark sped on the black and heaving sea, a Christmas tune was hummed, and every man on bo.ird, good or bad, had a kinder word and a kinder look for his fellows. And even in a solitary lighthouse, "built upon the dismal reef of sunken rocks, some leagues or so from shore, on which the waters chafed and dashed the wild year through," the solitary watchers, joining their homy hands over the rough table, wished each other a merry Christmas. (jiving the Bird* a Christmas. • Hon. W. W. Thomas, Jr., formerly Minister to Sweden, describes the Swed ish Christmas. He says: "One wintry afternoon, at jul-tide, I had been skating on a pretty lake, Dal^jon, three miles from Gottenburg. . On my way home I noticed at every farmer's house we passed there was erected in the middle of the door- yard a pole, to tho top of which was bound a, large, full sheaf of gr.iin. 'Why is this?' I asked of my comrade. 'O! that's for the birds. The little wild birds. They must have a Christmas, too, you know.' Yes, so it is. There is not a peasant in all Sweden who will sit down with his children to a Christmas dinner within doors till he has first raised aloft a Christmas dinner for the little birdg that the cold and snow i^thoitL" An' Tom . "(Bbrady? a noice little bye Tom was--! kitchen door they were welcomed by bright «ttus$ be most a man now. What! mar- lights, the congratulations of invited Hffed--iHn'iten ct^ildther! Bless me, Han- taa! An' the Murphys--how's the Mur phys, Hanna?" They were beyond the crash of. ooua- vahfrleft. The horses we/e slowly ing their wav up the hill, which (ht be the boundary line of the world, 1. JtUQp:ng-off place into infinite space iui i&re sky she could see over its curve. A rabbit scudded across and away through the short dun Fxomthe creek below came the neighbors, the steam of roas.ing turkey, and odor of pumpkin pies. More than all by old Rafferty. He was positively wild with pleasure. He was capering around the room, laughing, shouting', explaining; now putting his head back to roar tbe better, now bending-double to slap his leg and writhe in ecstatic and speechless contortions. "Now, Willum, now! We'll let the Sheehys see--now! Tbinkin' they could thrap my ion. I'm prood of ye, Willum! fyTw.w SL' 1 . Ll The Olden Seng*,' Come, atrijjthe olden song once m&el The Christinas carol sing; With solemn joy, from shore to shore, Let earth her tribute bring. And she fulfilled those prophet dreams; That Hebrew vision old; From Bethlehem's stall a glory streams That makes the future gold. . A golden future--health aad peace To ail beneath the sun ; A time when wars and wrongs shall And heaven and earth be one. But this our trust, through long delmw, With no weak doubts defiled; .A. And be tn altonr beartsto-day, New beta, the Eternal Child. ; -.a •. •• ">l. : lEltey w 'ore tlNPnaure of Gaines* Mill, sited in McCJcllan's change of the Seven Days' fight, a pow- trig negro escaped from hit) mas- . plantation one night, and after king about in the woods aud thickets two or three days and nights, en- our line?. It so happened that he rat approached the point at which I was standing sentinel. I stood under a tree in a little glade of wood 1, with the next picket a hundred feet to my left. It was a clear, starlight night, and about 11 o'clock. After I had been on an hour I heard a suspicious movement in the brush opposite me and across the glade, which was about fifty feet wide. On. such a night with one's ears strained to catch the slightest sound, a sentinel could detect a rabbit moving in the brush. I located the noise, but it was difficult to determine the cause. Naturally enough. I believed it to be made by some Confederate who had crept up to give me a shot. I stepped behind the tree, raised my gun and cocked it, and then waited. A long minute passed away, and then I saw a black object which I knew to bo a man steal into tbe glade. He was on his hands and knees, and no longer doubt ing that he was a bushwhacker I took fair aim at him and fired. On the heels1 of the loud report he sprang^ up with a shrill yell and dhouted: "Doan' kill dis nigger--I'ze yunion F The alarm was running around the pioket line, when I called to know who was there, and the same voice an swered: "Why, I'ze Zeb!" "Who is Zeb?" / - ' , "Runaway nigger to de yunion." • • "Have you a guif*" *:Uu "'Deed, no." - ** "Well, come in." "He rose up off the ground and walked straight to my tree, holding one big, black hand to the top of his head. My bullet had cut through the wool over his left ear and drawn blood. I was soon satisfied that he was what he claimed to be, and when the Corporal and his guard came up Zeb was sent to camp. Next morning I hunted him up, and he turned out to be a genuine runaway --a man about thirty years of age, and one Of the most powerful men, black or white, I ever saw. It was no trick at all for him to back up to an army wagon loaded with a thousand pounds of hay and lift the hind wheels clear off the ground, although no two white men in our brigade could do ' the same. He was taken into the brigade commissary department and when the battle of Gaines' Mill began lie was two or three miles away with a tr&in of wagons. My regiment was in the thick woods, shelt ered behind a temporary breastwork, and although we could hold the Confed erates on our front we knew from the sounds of battle that they were gradu ally outflanking us on both wings; We finally got the order to withdraw. We broke back sullenly and grudgingly, and the Confederates followed foot by foot. We had just taken a new position, and fcesh troops had eomeup to protect the Hanks, when Zeb appeared. , I was standing behind a tree when he came up and exclaimed: "Lor' a-miglity. but what eberybody tryin'todo? S' 4ns like de hull airth am gwine to sir !" "You'd lipttt ^get back--you'll be hit!" I replied; but he raised himself on tip-toes, looked into the woods ahead, and suddenly called out: "Fo' de Lawd, but dat's Marse Harry! I'ze gwine to bring him right in yere!" And he dashed by me straight at the Confederate skirmish line, which was only a1 few rods ahead of their line of battle, and I saw him rush at a young officer almost opposite me, lift him from the earth and throw him over his shoulder, and back he came with his human burden, straight to my tree. His captive was a First Lieutenant in a Virginia regiment--one of tire regiments coming with Jackson from the valley-- and the officer was a son of Zeb's mas ter. I myself took him to the rear and delivered him over, while Zeb trotted along by his side. He was a handsome young fellow of 22, rigged out in a new uniform, and in spite of his deep chagrin at being captured in such a manner he could not help but see the ludicrous side of the adventure. 44¥0' inns' dun 'scuse me," said Zeb, as wo made our way to the rear, "but I'ze dun j'ined to de yunion army now, an' dem ar' rebels is no fit 'sociates fur yo\ I'ze sorry if I mussed yo'r clothes, but I knowed it was de only way to bring yo' in." We had the officer about two months before he was exchanged, while Zeb stayed with us a year or more and was then made assistant porter in aome of the departments in Washington. -De-, troit Free Prem. A VA . % Wg, "A - , r 4 A Z^JS; ' . " ' >, -^ • T ' Jr.*** « The Experience oF an Obwrvant Train p. "It's no wonder that robbers go out and rob," observed a tramp the other day, as he sat on a barrel in front of a grocery; "Any man with an ounce of brains can make a sure thing of it." "Please explain;" 1 "Why; it is this way: While I never stole a cent's worth in my life, I've been tempted a thousand times. Let me give you thd lay of the average farm house. There is always half a dollar on the kitchen clock to buy notions of the ped dlers. If the farmer is working his silver watch is hanging on a nail just to the right of the shelf. In the bedroom off the sitting-room you'll find all the jewelry. It's always kept in the left- hand corner of the bottom ^bureau drawer.". "How do you know?" "You never mind. The deecia and other papers are in a tin box under the bed. If there's any sum of money above $10 in the house it's in a baking powder can on the top Bhelf of the pan try. No farmer ever goes to bed with over a dollar or two in his pocket. He lava his pants on a chair At the foot of the bed, and they can always be reached from the window. The key to the barn hangs on a nail over the kitchen sink, and the lantern always hangs in the cellar way." "You ai* » dose observer, my friend." 'iT:;; ...:/, : "Well, pernape, but no more than the rest of the boys. I oan go through the average farm house at midnight and never touch a chair nor squeak, a door, and I'll find things just where I have told you they were kept." . To De Away with Mourning. Jju£ now a number, of English high social standing are at- to inaugurate the fashion of pay with the heavy mourning las long been customary for ibo wear when a near relative rtiid rushing into crape and xeis Wxeeedingly expensive, bat itlie w||MXHg or&fcfcvy »h-orape oaniiot halloo stcoofely HM>6& for it contain®- ehemioals that often seriously affect the health; and there aro instances where a crape veil worn over the face has produced alarming eases of cutaneous disease. ' Freaks of Fortuned Stories of extraordinary windfalls are always interesting, and provide fresh material for the building of castles in air. The owner of a very valuable pair of trousers was lately advertised for in the French papers by the honest finder of the same, who allowed the individual to whom they belonged fifteen days in which to corae forward. After this de lay he stated he would consider him self justified in profiting by this strange wiudfall, which, as he was in poor cir- custances, and about to be married, would be very serviceable to him. On the Place de la Conqorde he stated that one evening he saw a dark object on the ground, which he first took to be a sleeping dog. On closer inspection, however, he discovered his mistake, and picked up the garment then in his pos session. He took the trousers with him on board a boat which he owned, and on passing them in review noticed that the buttons seemed different from or dinary ones. Prompted by curiosity, he undid the cloth that covered them, and found, instead of wooden moulds, gold pieces. Carrying his investiga tion still mrtlier, he came across some bank notes stitched into the waistband with other papers of value. In 1875, Elizabeth Scott was found by the police lying on the floor of her back kitchen. She had been dead apparently about a week. It was stated that although the deceased, who was 72 years of age, was in possession of upwards of fifty thou- tand dollars, producing an income of nearly three thousand, four hundred a year, she never associated with any one; and a search through the house resulted in the sum of two hundred and fifty dollars in gold and silver being found secreted in little bags betwee» the mat tresses of the bed. For many years she had been leading a miserly exist ence. It was stated that she left no will, and had only two cousins living in Scotland. But perhaps the most ex traordinary instance of good fortune in latter days is that of a young man who, being in great need, answered an adver tisement for a messenger in a law office, giving his name as a matter of course. The next mail brought him the won derful news that the advertiser had been in search of him for months, as through the death of half a dozen peo ple he had fallen heir to an immense fortune. ^ i A Rural Districted • ' . The average New Yorker is likely to think of his friends in smaller cities aa hardly equal to himself in keen business sagacity, but now and then somebody from a small town or even from the country shows himself in this quality quite worthy of the metropolis. A New Engl ander, who may be called Mr. Higgins, a man who stands six feeb two in his stockings and is well proportioned, landed from a Sound steamer the other morning and was greeted with the familiar,-- " 'Good morning, Mr. Higgins! So glad to see you here! But I m afraid you don't remember me." • The usual introduction and explana tions followed, and then Mr. Higgins started with the stranger to "call on Bome friends." After walking a few blocks they came into a small side street, and here Mr. Miggins interrupted the flow of reminiscences by setting down his valise on the side-walk and laying his overcoat upon it. This sur prised his companion, who aaked,-- ' What is the matter, Mr. Higgins? What are you going to do ?" "I am going," replied Mr. Higgina calmly, "to lick a bunco steerer within an inch of his life." But the New Yorker, who had no taste for sparring matches, had suddenly re membered an engagement in another part of the city. Irish BluurTetth, An Irishman, testifying in a polioo court, was asked to explain why he had "shown the white feather" on a certain occasion. "Tis better to be a coward for five minutes than dead all your life," he replied. Another Irishman, while accompanying a fishing party, had a hard fall down a steep mountain slope. Picking himself up, he devoutly ex claimed, "Glory be to God that I wasn't walking back over the mountain a dead man!" An Irish woman observing that her bed curtains had caught fire, hurried away to fetch water. She caugiit up a can of water, and as she was about to pour it upon the flames remembered that it was hot WAter, and mentally de cided that it could be of no use. An Irish schoolboy placed a cup full of coffee on a sloping desk. Finding that it overflowed, he sought to remedy his difficulty by turning the cup around. An Irish tenant, wishing to raise the roof of his cabin, began by excavating the floor. An Irishman, on a gentle man saying to him, "How did you like that whisky, Pat?" at once replied, "Sure, your honor, it has made another man of me, and that other man would like a glass, too." A temperance lecture might make that bull do good service in illustrating the fact "that the first glass does the mischief." Jfo Flies on the American Alligator. They were prospecting for gold in South Africa. During the survey they arrived at a river which it was neces sary for them to swim. In case their should be alligators in the stream, a Kaffir was sent across first in order that the saurians should make the first ex periment on his vile carcass. The black got over all right, and was followed by the boss of the party, a Yankee. Just as he was nearing the opposite shore his friends shouted, "Look sharp, there's an alligator after you." The Yankee quickened his stroke, and, upon reaching terra fir ma, turned to see if there was really an alligator after him, or if it was a sell. Sure enough, there was the lieatj of the monster just disappearing beneath the water. v "Ah!" quoth the Yankee. It's very lucky I'm in this goldarned country. If that had been an American alligator, lie'd have had me to a. certainty."-- London Sporting Times. j The Delegate tlji-Stalrs. One day when a whole 'bua full V had a drummer from Mow Yoj>fe «ho M sufforiog terribly with tooth- a^wfor two or three days. He had toed every remedy known to man, ex cept that of having it puifci, but noth ing had availed him. Be kid he hoped some one of us might be able to sug gest something, and slowly added: "Gentinmen, I have heard that a sud den shock to a man's nervous system would sometimes dure the worst case of toothache.^ Can you plan something?" j Six or eight of us got together in the J reading room, and it was finally de cided that a man named Simms, who turned out to be a patent medicine ad- j vertiser, should go up to the room and startle the New Yorker. He was to do it by claiming to have seen a dispatch to the effect that his wife had run away with another man. We thought that : ought to eure his toothache if anything I would. I "How big a man is he!" aaked the j delegate when ready to go up. ' 1 "Oh, he's rather undersized," replied the landlord. "If he should get up on his ear, you can easily slam him all I over the room." ' I The medicine man went up. We ! followed and stood at the door to hear the result. He fount? the New Yorker groaning like a sick horse, and after in troducing himself, he said: , "Sorry for you, old fellow, particu larly at this time, but I have bad news for you" I "No! exclaimed the other, sitting up in bed. _ •. .,«« • "Be calm, old b0y.^ aboat your wife," . Y "Is she--she dead?" I "Better for you if she was. She's run away with a street car conductor!" There wad a wild yell, followed by several whoops, and a crash. Then the medicine man fell into the hall, and a wild figure mopped him around, and | made bear fodder of him. It was five ; minutes before we could get him off and I get hiq, victim away. We carried the 1 latter into a sample room, stretched him out on the table, and had sponged his face for the third time, when he opened his eyes. "How do you feel now?" asked one of tbe boys. "Queer. What's happened?" "You went in to seethe New Yorker." "Oh, yes. He had the toothache." "He did, and you kindly consented to shock his mental system. It was a great success." "I cured it, did I?" "You did." . "But, great heavena! feel of me; look Till me; keep on spongiugr'Tm"fi0thing but a big splatter of jelly! Boys, if I die, and I hope I will, I'll haunt every infernal one of you day and night un til I drive you to hang yourselves with your own suspenders!"--New York Sun. . KENTUCKY applicant to St. Peter Just let me in long enough to get a shot ^did at Stokes' grandson. There's a feud* ^ between our families.--BingHampton Republican. His Interesting Discasstof# One of the most dilapidated of tramps sat in a street-car, beside a handsomely-dressed man. "1 Eee," said the tramp, that the re view of trade is very encouraging. In my paper this morning I notice ^hat Chicago in not only holding her own, but shows an immense increase over last year." "Yes," the man answered, looking far away, "I had been fearful," the tramp con tinued, "that trade might suffer a de cline, but am agreeably disappointed. Business on the board of trade, I no ticed while visiting that institution yes terday, was encouragingly active. Well, sir, America beats any country in the wortd. Don't you thiuk so?" * "Yes." "It has been several years since I was abroad," the tramp continued, "and am therefore scarcely prepared to speak of the present condition of Europe, but, juJging from a distance--and, really, distance amounts to nothing these days --'I think that the existence of monarchs is drawing to a olose. Now, look at Brazil. Did anybody expect a revolu tion there? Did not we all suppose that the aged monarch would be suf fered to reign to the end of his days? But I tell you, sir, that republicanism is piercing the most remote corners of the earth. Speaking of trade--" "Fare, please." said the conductor, approaching him. "Ah (with a look of surprise), did I not hand you a nickfel a few moments agt " .ou did not." : F "Are you sure?" . "Give me a nickel o* Fl* pat you off." "Well (getting up and addressing the well-dressed man), I must leave you here. I hope some time to continue our interesting discussion."--Arkansaw Traveler. An Unmistakable Sign. Jones (to manager of the fur store)-- Now. Mr. Hyde, iu all probability my wife will come down here this morning to pick out a new «eal sacque. Some time since, you will remember, she and I were in here and I rather discouraged her, when she sung the sealskin sacque song. Hyde--Yes, Mr.- Jones, I remember the time well. Jones--Yes? Well, I have had occasion to change my mind, and when she comes, please see that &he is ahown a good article. ' Hyde--Very well, Mr. Jones. Jones --And by the way. She might wish to look at a fur hat or muff. Hyde--Pardon me, Mr. Jones, but would you feel offended were I to ask yon a rather impertinent question ? Jones--Fire away, old man, you ean't hurt my feelings. Hyde--Then, I would like to ask if your wife's mother is not paying you a visit. Jones--Well, I should mildly ejacu late! I've had just a week of mother-; in-law and I'm about dead, but how the devil do you know ? Hyde--^The symptons are always the same. I'^fe been there myself and can sympathize with you.--Peck's Sun. Cause and KifrcW Mrs. Chancery Lane--What a lovely new sealskin, my dear'. Mrs. Ilfracombe--And I'm sure I never saw you with that diamond brooch before. Mrs. Ghauncery Lane--My husband d'nt come home till 4 this morning. , Mrs. Ilfracombe -- Aud mv brute dfftn't«rrive till >5, and then 1 had to undress him. AN Allen town, Pa., tailor haa in vented a "shoulder protector," to pre vent the powder on the girls' faces from soiling, the young men's ooats. THE man who drinks whisky behind a door would "give you away" sbonld ELEVATION^I spoken of as • means of | relief for "poor laboring man,*"but how far must he descend before reaching the point to commence his accent, for he al^ ready looks down upon the |iighest ele vation idleness has attained. A FOOL can start a fire that tho wisest man in the world cannot pat. oat.-*- Mchison Globe. i- \ WISE AND USWflSfc A OB ATX fifce wArm« up when irt coaled. QUBBXXS insists that corns are like an acrobat, b^oause they always %bt on hi* feet. A LADY, visiting a hospital, gave a aoldier who had lost both legs a tract on the sin of dancing. A POLICEMAN on a market beat not .complain of his hard lot. Be has the best the market affords. DENTISTS ought to make good cam paign orators; they having such an ef fective way of taking the stump. AN editor puffing nir-tiglit coffins said : "No person having once tried one of these tiffins will ever use any other." BROWN--So you eloped with Jonas' daughter, did you? Green--I flid. B.--Didn't Jones kicl(. G.--No, he tort a leg in the war. AN experienced young man says it takes only one letter to tell the differ ence between the summer and winter styles of oourtship, viz, gate--grate. "WON at last!" he exclaimed, tri umphantly. "Yes, Charlie," said she shyly, "but only on the strict condition, you know, that I am to be the one " EXPKRT EVIDENCE. • • I , Ton may patch, you may tinksr , '*•*"' Old jokes as you will, * -- But the flavor of chestnuts Will cling rouud them still. "You have never taken me to the cemetery," said a married woman to her husband. ^No, my dear," replied he; "that is a pleasure I have yet in antici pation." MRS. MATER--I wonder what makes the dog so afraid of me? He alwaya acts as if I was going to half hill Kin*, Little Daughter--1 desa he's seen yoa 'panking me. " FERMENT means to work, said the' teacher to the lauguage class. Now each of you write a sentence containing; the word. This is what Tommy Cumso,i who reads the paper, wrote, "Tramps} do not like to ferment." ) LADY (leaving store)--You bet I up to the tricks of these merchants. I made him come down two dollars on the price. Merchant (to himself)--I am up to the tricks of these lady customers. I put the price up four dollars. SATISFIED OLD MAID (fishing for a compliment)--Tell me, darling, why you prefer me to any of the other girls for a bride? Sensible Old Bach--On my wedding tour I don't want people to think that I am a newly married man. MRS. BEACON HILL (in an icy whis per)--I beg your pardon, but this is my pew! The Intruder (gently reproach ful)--rl am a sister in Christ, and this- is my Father's house! "Er--doubtless." But I have to pay the rent, you know." FLAP--I'm in love, and the only dis agreeable thing about it is that the girl, is older than I. Jack--How old are' you now? "I'm 18." "And the iady what?" "Twenty-two." "Make your mind easy, my boy. By the time you are 21 she'll be only 20. | A BROOKLYN boy asked his father the \ other day what was a philosopher.' "A I philosopher, my son? Why a pliiloso- ' pher is a man who reasons." ."Is that so?" said the boy, dejectedly, "^thought it was a man who didn't let thing* bother him." The father silently pattedh his son's head. GOT the Best of Gfandma.--Littler* Dot--Grandma,can God see me when f; am naughty? Grandma--Yes, dear. , Little Dot--Can He see me everywhere 'M' Grandma--Yes, God can see yon at all times. Little Dot--Dan He see met down in papa's wine cellar? Grandma-- Yes. Little Dot--Come off, grandma^ my papa ain't got any wine cellar.-- Life. ' \ NEW YORK HOTEI, CLERK (to bell boy)--See what the rumpus is in 621. Bell Boy (returning)--Col. BluegrassT'" is mad because there's a pitcher off# A, water in his room. Clerk--But that's^ not to drink. That's to wash in. Belly Boy--That's what I told him, and hei=': ^ got madder still. He wanted to knowf* S if they thought him a heathen. He said he washed before he started home. A YOUNO lady asked an editor this ex-, * traordinary question: "Do you think it right for a girl to sit on a young man's.. . £;'• lap, even if she is engaged?" Where-; .t>' upon the editor told this extraordinary' j lie: "We have had no experience in|%?J|| the matter referred to." Why didn't hei , I f say: "If it was our girl and our lap, ^ yes; if it was another girl and our lap,;-' yes-; but if it was our girl and another |P fellow's lap, never! never! never!" . 1 1 Sweet Ghosts. One house was closed for three years. while we were in Europe; and soon , after our return, last June, we began t<> ... hear mysterious noises. The house wasl-; « hip-roofed, and the chambers were low,: J with sloping ceilings. It was in the ; J chambers t\iat we heard the boises. The sounds varied. Sometimes we; heard a low, heavy rumbling like dis- tant thunder; at other times we heard,; , or seemed to hear, broken murmurs,) ' like hoarse voices in conversation; but usually the noise suggested distant^ >x whispering and groanings. ^ We are not superstitious, but it w»a^ || not pleasant to h<»ve pich things going on in the house. For four weeks we1 J s o u g h t v a i n l y f o r a n e x p l a n a t i o n o f t h e / t mystery. Rats and mice never made ' such noises, nor bats nor birds. So far* as we could think, nothing that flies, J •. r; nothing that runs, could produce such , * si sounds as came from our haunted chambers. We had many curious visitors, but j J pretty soon some of our more ignorant. - neighbors began to shun the house.; The whole affair was greatly exaggerated, of course, and disagreeable rumors were speedily noised about. This had been going on for about fotir weeks when father came into the house one morning in a state of evident excite- ; ;4$ meut. "Well, I've solved the misteryI* he exclaimed. "It's bees!" "Bees!" we cried J "what do mean?" ' "I've seen a thousand bees, at leaa*. ^ going out and in at that small hole in^ V1 the gable roof," he said. "They've * ' swarmed there, and that explains the "i* whole thing." We laughed at the idea; but father called a carpenter and had the small hole enlarged. Th6 inside of the roof was found to be one immense bee-hive. Over fifty pounds of delicious honey were taken out, and with the removal • ^1* of the bees the mysterious sounds came \ to an end. • - 1 •• " t» A Miracle Explained. . v-; .,' Mrs. D.--My husband fell down fffe . KV5J - cellar stairs with five bottles of wine and didn't break a single one of them. Visitor--Wonderful! Miraculous! "Well, no; it's not so wonderful after all. The five bottles of wine were on the inside. He drank tbm *^'/ fell down the stairs." ^ I • 1 P you. U nit.:' / fiat's'1} ' 4y&k- - *