m SStnSTKA, CUxiut, Hi? it tjjfc S Uten small hands upon the spread; • ?- *- • ve forme kneeling beside the bed-- V t ... ne-eyen, Black-eyes, Curly-head. *7*. i Monde, Brunette--In a glee and glow; Waiting the magic word. Such a row-tf •bven yea**, six years, At®, foot, two 1 Jifty fingers, all in a line- Tours are thirty, and twenty an mine; sen sweet eyes that sparkle and shine I Aotherly Mary, age of ten-- : #ven the finger-tips again-- ^plaaoM Along the line, and then: I shall do my duty," returned the newspaper, the first thing that ia»t my " **' 1 Intra, mintra, cntra, o ier morn} , corn. Apple seed and brier i Wire, brier, limlxr lock. Three geese in a flock; --„--is_ Ruble, rob'e, rabble, and rfl%--fc~ T, O. U, B-- Out!" falls on Curly- •#ae \ree digit is "gone and df«4r Kine-and-forty left on the spreen. »Intra, mintra," the fiat goes-- Wholl be taken, nobody knows; Only God may the lot dispose t it more than a childish play ? .11. you 8i«h and turn away. y? What pain in the sight, Iptay? Ah' ton tine: '• As the fingers fall - One by one at the magic call. 'Sill, at the last, chance reaches aQ, So, in the fateful days to come, - , The lot shall fall in many a home Xhat breaks a heart and fills a tomb-- Stall fall, and fall, and fall again, kike a law tnat counts our love but vain-- . tike a fate unheeding our woe and pain--J ^One by one. And who shall say .,s - Whether the lot may fall this day * ft)at calleth one of these dear babes away?" " True! fcootme! Yet hold, dear friendj ®rermore doth the lot depend • •. <' , On Him who loved, and loved tft Utt out. Blind, to <?tsr eyes, the flat goes-- Who'll be taken no mortal-knows; ' . ^tat Only Love will the lot dispose- Only Love, With His wiser sight: . Love alone, in Bis infinite might; Love, who dwells in eternal light," THE*MURDERED DROVER. M ny years ago, when I lived in Mary- lane?, a neighbor of mine--one Albert Odyne--waking in the night, heard something which sounded iike the hoofs of a horse as the animal wanders, list lessly, over the frozen ground. He was an honest old fanner, and had several horses of his own. He believed that all his animals were securely Stabled; but when the noise of hoofs pounding the hard soil approached his window, he thought it was time to get up and recon noitre. Therefore, although his good lady heaved a'lieavy sigh and muttered, " O, Jerusalem! Why upon earth can't the man lay still ? I've got a hard day's work before me to-morrow morning," yet the farmer carefully got out of bed and raised his window. On looking out, Farmer Odyne saw a horse near the house moving to and fro, with his nose to the earth, as if seeking for grass, while on his back was a saddle with low-hanging stirrups. As the horse raised his head and looked toward the open window, the farmer discovered a bridle on the head of, the beast, though the bight had slipped over his ears* and was dangling below. This was a case that required looking into, for it was a cold, wintry night; and some traveler might have "become be numbed and fallen from his horse. The farmer now hastily dressed him self, and his wife, being informed of what her husband had seen, no longer thought of the hard day's work on the morrow, but, springing out of bed, rushed the logs and kindling wood on the andirons, and soon had " the fire fair blazing and the vestment warm." In a few minutes the good woman had v everything prepared for receiving the luckless stranger whom the frost had touched. * On first going out of the front door Mr. Odyne observed an ox looking over into his garden; the neck of the animal resting on the top of the fence. He ran " out into the road, «and soon met two more oxen, and immediately afterward he became sensible that there was a whole herd scattered hither and thither, and enjoying " the largest liberty." 8 He now felt certain th:it some unlucky drover had fallen by the wayside; and then, for the first time, a sinister thought plowed its way sharply through his brain, and his heart beat more quickly as the question arose, " Am I myself alto gether safe on this road at this time of night?" He tried to quiet his suspicions, and went briskly forward. He had long passed the hindermost of the oxen, when coming near a farmhouse whose gable looke d --Mit on the road, he saw some thing tlni-k lying on the ground, which; might be the object w.iich he sought. - He went up to it ssu found tbairit was the body of a man lying in a heap on the frozen ground. He reached out his hand to feel whetner the heart of the fallen'man was still beating, when it came n contact with something hard. He soon discovered that this was the handle of a dagger which had been thrust to the hilt into the breast of the deceased. Odyne now ran to the nearest tavern and aroused the landlord. Half the vil lage was on the spot in a few minutes, for there was! a tremendous excitement, the murdered man having been quickly recognized as one Jacob Seaman, a wealthy drover living on the southern border of Pennsylvania. On examining the body the Coroner found that deceased had been shot as well as stabbed. A rifle ball had entered the temporal bone, and was doubtless in his brain. A couple of swaggering young men belonging to the village soon came up, and, luffing examined the dagger, swore that it belonged to Mr S las Doane, the farmer near whose house the corpse was found. Doane was present and confessed that the dagger was his' "but he added that it was an old rusty' affair that had been long kicking about in his chaise-house, and that any one might have taken it from thence. " O, yes," cried one of the bullies, "that is very likely; yet it is the Coro ner's duty to search your house, for it's jio trifling thing to find this dagger of youra in a dead man's breast." The Coroner confessed that he could do no less than search the premises, while he said rather roughly to the man who proposed this measure, " I supposed that you would like to put Mr. Doane to inconvenience, as he complained of you and your friend here last fummer, and had you put in jail for a misdemeanor Ton have owed him a spite ever since.' "Spite or no spite," cried the other, " you find old Doaue's weaponintha. dead man's heart." Coroner, pushing the young man aside and entering the farmhouse, followed by the tavern-keeper, constables, and oth ers. During the search the two young men were particularly busy, opening this door and that, and peeping into every cranny. The Coroner could find nothing in the shape of a rifle, and had already begun to apologize to Mr. Doane for giving him so much trouble, when one Of the graceless scampi* pushed open the door of the milk-room and cried: "We have not looked in here yet!" The Coroner, with a listless air, en tered the apartment, followed by a village lawyer, and just turning over a tin pan which stood on a shelf near a window, something fell to the floor. The Coro ner picked'it np: it was a large pocket- book. Surely, under a pan in the milk-room was a strange place for a pocket-book; still the Coroner held it doubtingly in his hand, when the lawyer observed, " Better open it, Mr. Butterworth." The pocketbook was accordingly opened. It contained seven dollars in bank notes, a receipt for five hundred dollars,, and an old letter much worn. The Coroner examined the name on the back, one of the young roisterers being very officious in holding the candle near the letter. The Coroner held the mis sive under the eyes of the lawyer, and both of them at once looked verv grave, exchangi ug meaning glances. The letter was directed to "Mr. Jacob Beaman," the murdered man. The Coroner immediately ordered the Constable to arrest Mr. Doane. Soon after a loud shriek was heard proceed • ihg from a distant department, the shriek was uttered by the wife of the prisoner. The letter was opened. It came from a nephew Of the murdered man, living at Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. In that letter that young man earnesly besought his uncle to consent td his marriage with a g;rl in humble life, to whom he was madly attached. It contained a great deal of romantic rhetoric about marrying for money, and highly extolled the vir tues of the poor girl with whom the writer was smitten. It was afterward known that the wealthy drover had fixed his eye upon a young lady highly connected, and had assured his nephew that unless hte married her, he would not leave him a cent at bis death, but would alter his will in favor of a more distant relative, living in Pen- sacola. Silas Doane was imprisoned, tried, convicted, and sentenced to death, sev eral other circumstances appearing to confirm his guilt on the trial. But the Governor of Maryland was not satisfied with the verdict of the jury, and the friends of Doane soon prodaced testimony which, in the view of the ex ecutive, warranted him in granting a re prieve of three months. * One Relief Swazey--a poor, half-wit ted girl in the service of the Doanes--- stated, in a roundabout way, that, on the night of theraurder, she heard a noise as of some one opening the window which led from the rear garden into the milk-room, and that, in looking from her window soon after, she saw two men run ning thrOugh the garden. A few weeks afterward a traveler called on the Governor and stated that, riding through that part of the township on the night of the murder, he saw two men carrying a heavy burden, resem- b'ing the body of a man, along the pub lic road. Supposing they were carrying home one of their companions who had taken too much whisky, he thought no more of the matter, till accidentally see ing an old paper, while he was staying in Richmond, Va., which gave an ac count of Doane's trial, he was struck with the coincidental circumstances. He described one of the men who car ried the body as tall and slender, the oth er as short and stout. Such, indeed, were the two rogues who had been so earnest to procure the conviction of the prisoner. Both of them were arrested and put in the county prison. They were very innch frightened, and pretended to make a confession/ They said.they were out late on the night of the murder, when, finding the dead body of the drover at some distance from the house of Mr. Doane, they determiped to fasten suspicion upon him, as they owed him a deep grudge, and were sworn to be re venged. Accordingly, they picked up the , l>ody, carried it and deposited it near' the house of Doane, went to the chaise-house, and got the old, rusty dag ger, which they thrust into the body ; then they took the drover's pocket-book from the breast of his coat, went behind the house, raised the window which led into the njilk-rooaa, -deposited it under a tin-pan, and cut for dear life. Many believed this story; others mocked. The two yonng men were gen erally believed to be guilty of the mur der. The Governor pardoned Silas Doane, and he was set at liberty, but the mark of Cain was on his brow, as a considerable number of the community believed in his guilt. They said the poor simpleton, Relief Swazey, had been suborned, and that the two prisoners had founded their confession on her story, as the readiest means of getting out of prison. Finally, the two rogues broke out of prison, and made good their escape. Satisfied that they would never eome back, the villagers very generally re joiced that they had left that part of the country, for they had been regular nuisances. Several years had passed away, and the murder of the rich drover had become an old story. Then it was that, lying late one morning, I had a dr< am--if dream it could be called--in winch old Jacob' Beaman, the murdered drover stood at my bedside in his long Guern sey frock, and, with uplifted hand, said : " Bring my murderer to justice. Avenge my blood," which cries from the ground against the ungrateful ooe.J' "How can I do that?" demanded I; I know him not, and ev*u if I did, how could I prove that he did the deed?" Therenpon the face of the drover be came distorted with an expression of the most violent anger, and muttering "Ma ry Brown," lie disappeared as suddenly as lis came. " A very foolish dream," said I, as I woke, though the cold sweat seood in huge drops upon my forehead. Who was Mary Brown, and how could she have shot the drover ? " A-week passed, sa l I had almost for gotten my drt am, when, taking np a eye was the advertisement of a clairvoy ant Spiritualist, who pretended to do several things which are generally sup posed to be beyond the power of mortal man. The advertisement was signed M Mary Brown 1" The coincidenoe was remarkable, and for a moment it seemed again to hear the sepulchral tones of the drover as he pronounced the name of " Mary Brown!" One likes to believe in wonders, if he can, especially when he is individually associated with them, and for a moment I felt flattered in having been chosen by the departed drover as his medium of communication with this lower world. , Then came intrusive reason, which has demolished so many an air-built fabric rich with rainbow glories. It suggested : " You have seen this name, 4 Mary Brown,' at some other time, when care lessly glancing over the advertisements, and it came back to you i© your dream. A very common occurrence. Very well, thought I. Nothing is easier than to test this over-skeptical reason by attending one of the seances of Mies Mary Brown. Hamlet tested his ghost and found it to)be a genuine article. " It was a true ghost," said he to his friend Horatio after the play. That very night I called at the house of Mary Brown, and found her seated at a large table, with a dozen persons around it of both sexes. A tall slender young man in black sat near the register., and now and then rubbed his hands over it. I took my place at the table. "I can settle with you as well now as at any other time," said Miss Brown to her visitor at the register. "0!nb,no, madam," retrained he, politely; " f am in no hurry for my rent --none at all-r-besides, I like to witness the performance; Continue on, and don't mind me." So this was Mary Brown's landlord. In a moment one lady suggested that "perhaps Br. Beaman would like to get some communications himself." I started at the name of Beaman, and while the young gentleman was declining with thanks, saying: " Really, madam, it would be no use, as I have no faith," I asked a gentleman at my side if the speaker was a nephew and heir to the rich drover who was murdered several years ago. "Yes," was the reply, "a very tine young man; I believe; has improved the property, been very successful in specu lations, married a fine girl, very beauti ful but very poor. Lucky for him that the old man dropped off just as he did. It was the turning point." My informant paused, for three loud raps, that made the mahogany quiver, were given, apparently, on the other side of the table. ' Even the medium started with sur prise At place, where there were no houses, he shot him dead with a rifle. "What, else passed between Beaman and his religious counsellor, is known only to the latter. In two days Beaman breathed his last. His amiable and lovely young wife, struck to the heart on learning her husband's guilt, sur- vn^him only five months. length, recovering herself, she smiled serenely, and remarked: "We are getting more company than we bar gained for; the earnest spirit is anew corner." One of the ladies turned to a gentle man near her, an <1 said: "I am fright ened; hadn't we better go?" The gentleman laughed her out of the notion, and said: " Perhaps that spirit is calling for Mr. Beaman, and is angry at his skepticism." . ^ _ Beaman laughed, and said he had never before imagined himself to be a person of so much importance. " But," said 1, " as you are a skeptic, sir, you are the man who ought to come to the table and get converted. You know that the physician is not for the whole, but for the sick." Here most of the company--especially the ladies--joined'with me in persuad ing Mr. Beaman to take a seat at the table. !He could no longer refuse without ap- Eearing perverse, and, therefore, in a tnghing, jaunty manner, he placed him self at the table. " Have you no" deceased friend or rel ative from whom .you would like to receive a communication?" inquired the medium, gently. There was a pause. I looked at the countenance of Beaman; it was pale as death. " Yes," cried a little girl at the end of the table. "I'm sure Mr. Beaman would like to hear from his good old un cle." " I have more respect, more venera tion .for my deceased relative," answerod Beaman in a hoarse voice, " than to as sociate his name with what to me--beg ging pardon of the company--are naught but juggling tricks." As the speaker finished his last words, those three terrible knocks on the bot- 1 torn side of the table made the latter jump under our hands, and drew forth a low shriek from more than one lady present. " That's he," cried the medium; ' 'now I'm sure you can't refuse, Mr. Beaman." And, at the moment, the medium's hand and arm shook violently. She seized a pencil, as this was the spirit in fluence requiring her to write. She wrote, however, but a few words, when the influence passed, and her hand became stationary. The medium seemed to expect a renewal of the influence, and waited two minutes, when a lady said: " Pray, Miss Brown, read what you have written." The medium took up the paper, held it to the light, and read: "Secure my. murderer; he is present." The believ ers looked around on every side, scan ning every face at the table, while one or two skeptics smiled; but it was a somewhat ghastly smile, nevertheless. 0As I was a stramger, many keen glances were shot at my countenance; but I was looking at young Beaman. He sat motionless, like an image of wliiie marble. He said not a word; but in a few moments he rose and staggered toward the door. Before he had reached it he fell senseless to the floor. We picked liim up, and means were used to restore him to consciousness. He only partially recovered, and then complained of a terrible pain about the heart. He was conveyed home in his own coach, which had been sent for. The physician told him that he could not recover. Then he sent for a clergy man, to whom he confessed that, being determined to marry the young girl, who was absolutely necessary to his happi ness, and being assured that if he mar ried her his uncle would disinherit; hiin, he had followed his uncle one uight, -when ih© latter was driviug his cattle to Baltimore, until, coming to a solitary Lost in a Coal mine. H The widow Gallagher's son James, 14 years old, worked in a coal mine near Dunmore, Pennsylvania, as a mule-boy. He was in the employ of the Pennsyl vania Coal Co., and was a hard-working little fellow. He had an enemy among the miners, one James Barrett, a brute. Barrett was in the habit of kicking and cuffing and otherwise abusing the boy shamefully, and young Gallagher became mortally afraid of his task master and tyrant. One day, in the mine, Barrett raised his pick-ax, and running toward Gallagher threatened to split his head wide open. The boy ran from his tor mentor in mortal terror, and entered the mouth of an abandoned coal mine with out knowing it. At length after assur ing himself that he was not pursued he stopped, and first found he was in a strange place. He had heard the miners' stories of horrible sufferings in aban doned mines, and became greatly fright ened. He ran along the corridors to find hie way out, and could not. He was lost. l"he mine Limp on his cap grew dim, and finally went out, leaving him in thick darkness. The echoes which his calls for help sent ringing through the subterranean world reached no mortal ear. He was followed by droves of aggressive rats, too, but he went on and On as long as he could hold out. The rats were ready to take pos session of him as- soon as he gave up, and when he sat down to rest they scam pered over him, apparently in(a high glee of expectancy. So he kept moving on through this terrible solitude. At length his memory failed him. A party of miners went into the abandoned mine to search for the boy. They found him after a short search, and brought him up into the light of day amid the joy of the villagers. He was still alive, and af ter a time revived sufficiently to tell so much of his experience in the mine as. above related. He had been lost two days and one night. The rats had gnawed one of his hands so much that' it was necessary to have it amputated, and two or three of his toes were eaten off. The rats had also taken various other bites out of him. His mind wan dered, and now and then he would sfcriek, "The rats are eating me up," " Drive them away," and then he would cower in terror. These shrieking fits became more frequent, and finally the doctors pronounced the boy insane, and he was taken to the lunatic asylum iu Danville. The miners routed James Barrett out of town, and collected all his clothes and other effects and publicly burned thefn, as an expression of their opinion of the brute. Taking a Yote. As a train on the Lake Shore road was coming into Detroit the other day along- geared man, who had been sleeping for two or three hours, suddenly awoke, rose up, and after a yawn and a stretch he took his plug hat in his hand, held it out to one of the passengers, and re marked: "Less vote on Beecher." "Oh, go to thunder!" growled the man. The tall man tote * five or six leaves from his memorandum book, wrote "in nocent" on some and "guilty" on the other, and started down the aisle. " Madam," he said, as he approached the nearest lady, " I'd like to nave yoU vote one of these tickets. Yote just as your conscience dictates, madam." Shs refused to vote, and he dropped a ballot marked " innocent" into the hat, and passed to a man who, overcome by the heat, had fallen asleep. " Here! you--what do you think of Beecher?" he asked,! snaking the sleeper. "Durnyou, sir--dum you?" roared the man, as he sat up. " Which way do you vote?" " G'way from me or I'll mash the top of your head down on to your collar bone!" yelled the Aroused sleeper, lift ing his big red fist. " The ballot-box man passed to a boy about ten years old and inquired: "Bub, what do you think about Beecher?" "I dunno," replied the boy; "father said he'd lick me if I said anything about it!" ^ A ballot of "guilty" was uroppied into the hat, and the man pas&ed down to a dreary-looking old chap who was rolling a bit of plug tobacco under his tongue. " Well, old friend, what do you think of Beecher?" was the inquiry. The dreamy chap got up, tossed his auid out of the window, and calmly took le canvasser by tlie throat and jammed him over a seat and hit him twice on the chin. It was all over before anybody could interfere, and as he resumed his seat he looked back at the canvasser, who, lialf-stunned, was gazing around in the greatest astonishment, and re marked: "I promised my dying wife I'd lick the next man who said Beecher to me, and now you keep away !" The canvasser pushed the dents out of his plug hat, borrowed a pin to mend his coat collar, tied a wet handkerchief around his throat, and sat down and fell into such a train of reflection that the peanut boy had to speak to him four times over before lie was aroused.--De troit Free Press. Silver Coinage. The Government faints at Philadel phia, San Francisco and Carson City are in full blast, and the amount of silver coin being turned out is especially larger For the last fiscal year the coinage of gold was l,739,0(i'2 pieces; value, $3,- 353,965; of silver, 22,823,216; value, $10,070,368. Beside these, the report covers 1,462,950 pieces of five and three cent pieces, valued at 8230,365. The total is 39,191,778 pieces; value, $13,- 654,698. The increase in the number of silver dollars struck off is the most nota ble feature of the report. A MAN named Jones, of Clayton county, Ga., while dreaming that he was fighting a dog, struck his child, who lay beside him, inflicting severe, and perhaps permanent injuries. An Melresg Elopes with a Negro. Mrs. Broueher, a widow, of Deer Park, Long Island, adopted a little girl several yeaiv ago, and educated her. The girl is now about 17 years old, and was to have inherited nearly all of Mrs. Broucher's real and personal estate, esti mated at about $40,000. Mrs. Brouoher employed a young col ored man named Chauncey Brewster, fie has a lighter complexion and straighter hair than most negroes, and is considered handsome. Last Saturday night she discharged him, paying him $4.5G that she owed him; and this was all the money he had. On Sunday night the girl started for church, accompanied byi another girl. They were going to different churches, and separated after they had gone a short distance together. ® Mira Broueher did hot reacd the church. On the way she met Brewster, the colored boy, and they talked a few minutes. That night she did not go home, nor the next day, and on Tuesday Mrs. Broueher learned that her adopted daughter had eloped with Brewster, and that they were living with a colored family named Jackson, in Amityville. Brewster and the girl were found in Jackson's hoiise, and wef& taken before Justice Cnniw. Brewster said that on Sunday night they walked from Babylon to Amityville. It rained hard, and they were wet through. He went to his mother's house, but she refused to re ceive the girl, and they stayed under a tree until 3 o'clock in the morning. Then they saw a light in Jackson's house, and went in. Brewster's defense was thai the girl went with him of her own will. The testimony brought out a supposed charm that the Babylon negroes have to catch girls with. They take a four-ounce bot tle, put in nine pins and ten needles, some of their own and the girl's hair, and fill it with water on the first day of each month. Brewster, it was charged, had used this charm on the girl, and his bottle was shown in Court. A negro employed by Mr. Southard found a simi lar bottle in one of his wagons, he said, and his black boy told him what it was for. The boy, when put upon the stand, denied thiB. Other witnesses testified that they had seen the girl run np to Brewster in the house and kiss him. It is believed that there is no law un der which they can be punished.--New York &un. The Williamson County Vendetta. Another victim has been added to the already long list of those who have fallen in what is now widely known as the " Williamson County Vendetta." Capt. George W. Sisney is, we believe, the eighth who has perished in consequence Of the protracted quarrel of the Kussells and the Bulliners, which has kept Will iamson county in a ferment for years. By reference to an extended account of these troubles, published in the Journal of Feb. 9, 1875, it appears that an at tempt was made to assassinate Mr. Sis ney as early as 1869, when he was set upon by the family of Bulliners and se verely wounded, but recovered. He hacj, no direct connection With the Russell- Bulliner quarrel, but had incurred the displeasure of the Bulliners in conse quence of a lawsuit in which they were defeated. Some time last year a second attempt was made to assassinate him by shooting from ambush, but the guns in the hands of the would-be assassins failed to go off, and he escaped, but recog nized one of the assailants as he ran away. This individual, whose name was Cagle, was indicted for the crime, but we do not know that the case was ever tried--the enforcement of the law in Williamson county being very lax. Some months after (that is to say, last fall) an other and more successful attack was made on Sisney, he being shot by some one from the outside as he sat in his house near a wiiidow ' ln the evening. At this time he was severely wounded, and, after recovering, he rented his farm and removed to Carbondale for the sake of greater security. The result shows that he bjis at last fallen a victim to the bloodthirsty vengeance of his enemies under circumstances almost precisely similar to those which came near proving fatal last fall. Mr. Sisney was a native of Williamson county, and was a Captain in an Illinois regiment during the war, and last year was the Republican candidate for Sher iff in Williamson county. Both he and Dr. Hinchclirfe--the latter being the last victim before Mr. Sisney--were univer sally respected, and were probably the most reputable and worthy citizens who have fallen sacrifices to this wretched neighborhood feud. •>--Springfield (III.) Journal. A Child's Eventful History. A Massachusetts paper relates the fol lowing: "Passengers on Conductor Johnson's train on the .Eastern railroad have noticed at a house close to the road, just beyond the North Beverly station, on a piazza next them, a beautiful little girl of about 3 years old. She is always there when Mr. Johnson's train passes, as he is a near relative. She was born on board a ship in the Pacific ocean. Before she was three days old her mother died. Before she was seven days old, Jthe ship was wrecked and sank. Her father, who was Captain of the vessel, the infant, and one sailor were saved in a boat. The babe was wrapped in a blanket and kept warm, and the sailor paid every attention to her and kept her alive with biscuit soaked in water, and was hardly less attentive to the little one's wants than her father. Ten days after the wreck the three were picked up by an English vessel and taken to Liver pool. Thence they came to this country,' and the little one has been brought up at the house of her grandparents, close by the railroad, near the North Beverly station." 1 ^ < In Jacksonville, 111., last week, only One marriage license was issued, and when the young lady heard that she was the only candidate for matrimony she reversed her decision on the ground that she couldn't think of being married if it wasn't any more fashionable than that. H. C. Pbabson, of Ferrystyurg, Mich., claims to have invented a nautical transit for finding the meridian at any time. It can tell accurately the line of a ship's heading and the meridian during foggy or cloudy weather without depending upon the compass. ;:fHJS YIFKR AND THE j A Castlllan Fable. BT JOHN O. BAXX. ^ ! " « * i d a Viper t o a "How differently by men we re: Tell me, my neighbor, I beseech, "s-iWJ Why yon are sought and 1 am hated?w .A- !' -i , 1 A - M Xon," said the Leeeh, In prompt mpto: " If Fame be not a false detracts*, Hen deem their enemy; while I Am cherished as their benefactor.* h;~>•<, " What miKhtv difference they see, .That yon should be the more inviting," The Viper answered, "puzzles me; ' Since both alike are fond of biting!" " We both are biters, to be sure," _ Th® Leech replied; " but lot me mention Ton bite to kill, and I to cure; i.J. .• The difference lies in the intentigtk."- MORAI,. To those who pain us with intent To do us j?oodT wa should be grateful • While those on apite and mischief bent' We w4U a»ay shun as base and hateful. Pith am! Point. VESTED interest--Money M the waist coat pocket. THBKE may keep a secret--if two of them are dead. c THE first thing the MAGNET ever at tracted--Attention. THE man who couldn't find his match went to bed in the dark. WHEN is a soldier not hall a soldier ? When he's in quarters. WHY have chickens no hereafter ? Be cause they have their necks twirled in this.. ' ' " WHY is a solar eclipse like a woman whipping her boy ? Because it's a hid ingofthesun. THE way for a desolate old bachelor to secure better quarters is to take a "better-half." 1 " I saw him kiss your cheek." "'Tis true." " Oh, modesty!" Twas strictly kept; He thought me asleep; at least I knew He thought I thought he thought 1 slept." THE hair from a lady's braid should never be worn oh the lapel of a gentle man's coat, unless the parties are en- PKOFESSOB (kindly) -- "What is the matter, Mr. Gray? You look unwell." Sophomore (with a volume of "Christian Martyrs" in his hand)--"My breakfast was burned at the steak; that's what's thejnartyr with me." "WHICH had you rather do, go to Wheeling in Virginia or Coming in Ne braska V -- Exchange. "Well, we don't want to Berne Switzerland, so we'll go to Beading Massachusetts over Andover." Boston Advertiser. An Indiana school boy has written his name high up on the scroll of fame this time. His teacher wanted to know the number of zones. " Four," was the re ply; "the horrid, the frigid, the temper ate and--the intemperate." He will enter the lecture field this fall. " Slit," said a little blustering man to ft, religious opponent, " to what sect do you suppose I belong?" "Well, I don't exactly know," replied his opponent, "but to judge from your size, appear ance and constant buzzing, I should think you belonged to the class generally called insect." "MARIA," observed Mr. Holcomb, as he was putting on his clothes this morn ing, "there ain't no patch on them breeches yet." "I can't fix it now no way; I'm too busy." "Well, give me the patch then, an' I'll carry it around with me," added Holcomb. "I don't want people to think I can't afford' the cloth."--Banbury News. A DETROIT boy who scraped two or three dollars together last week, and started for the Black Hills, was yester day found on the front door-steps by the family. There was dust on his clothes, straw in his hair, and a sad look in his eye, and as the old man reached out and hauled him in he remarked: "Father, you may talk about quartz-mining, shaft- sinking and lodes and veins all your days, but I tell you there's no place like home, even if your mother^ is homely and lame!"--Detroit Frek P¥ess. A MEMBER of the colored church was the other evening conversing earnestly with an acquaintance, and seeking to have him change into better paths, but the friend said that lie was too often tempted to permit him to become a Christian. "Whar's yer backbone, dat ye can't rose up and stand temptation ?" exclaimed the good man. "I was dat way myself once.* Bight in dis yere town I had a chance to steal a "pa'r o' boots--mighty nice ones, too. Nobody was dar to see me, and I reached out my hand, and the debbil said take 'em. Den a good spirit whispered fur me to let dem boots alone." "And you didn't take 'em?" "No, sah--not much; I took a pa'r o' cheap shoes off de shelf an'left dem boots alone!"--Vicksburg Herald. . A Scliool-Boy's Death. The Pall Mall Gazette of a recent date says: It is impossible to read the evi dence given at an inquest held in St. Wilfrid's Catholic School, Preston, _ on the remains of a little child named Rich ard Lancaster, aged seven years, who died that morning in consequence of in juries received from leaping through the window of an upper room in the school one day last week, without a feeling of sadness. The little culprit had been con fined in the room with two others by Miss Bamber, a pupil teacher, for the fault of " talking in school." At half- past four, when the pupils were dis missed, they were taken through the room where the prisoners were confined, and these latter^ it was stated, had been told they might follow when the school was discharged. Owing, however, to some mistake or misunderstandings the deceased child did not follow, and was unwittingly locked in the school. He did not long remain there, for about 5 o'clock he leaped from one of the win dows into an adjacent court, and after ward walked to a house, whence he was carried home in great pain by a schoolfellow and died. The jury re turned a verdict of " Died by a fall through misadventure." THE potato is supposed to be a native of South America, and it appears prob able that it was first brought into Spain from the mountainous parts of that country, in the neighbrohood of Quito, early in the sixteenth century. It is not known by whom or when its value as an article of food was discovered. ) SvSliM