; Ji? ̂ iii and FLA- m •rax TURTLE MINGO. UHH J. nnM. . jftfSnfle lived dotm by tttrl dark-rolling stream cailfd the Jingo, f one summer day, as he went out to lay, . JMI in love with a charming flamingo-- i" 1M» enormously genteel flamingo! - "4n expansively crimson flaminf&l A. Wautiful, bouncing flamingo! Arft* ffce turtle in tone* like a delicate ikMM: ** TIT. the water IVe oft seen yoirin go, &s 't your form has impressed itself deep shell, ^ JPM perfectly modeled flamipgo! X'rm uncommonly brilliant flamingo I Von tremwndosjsl.v ' A one ' flamingo! Tou inex-pres-'tf-ble flamingo! ' « fbke rare I'm a turtle, and yon are a belle, And my language is not your fine lingo; fPnt amile on m«, taU one, and be my . bright flame, Too miraculous, -wondrous flamingo! , You blaxingly beauteous flamingo! you turtle-absorbing flamingo f You inflammably gorgeous flamingo!" ffeMthe proud bird Mashed redder than ever be- fore, And that was quite un-nec-ces-M-ry, fibe stood on one leg and" looked OOt at ob% eye, ! position of things for to vary This aquatical, musing flamingo! This dreamy, uncertain flamingo! T!w» embaiTassing, HSRASSICG flamingo t iffc«iii, she cried to tbe quadruped, greatly amazed; <* Why your passion toward me do yon hurtle ? I'Sl Mi OHJitbOlOgiOftl WOiiilrr «f gTSC*, you'rn an illogical turtle! A waddling, impossible turtle; A iow-minded. frrtu>8-ratiisg turtle! A highly improbable turtle I" wa«i» the turtle sneaked off with his noae to tbe around, . .<*AB<J more looked at the lasses; - - Jfegl Wing asleep, while indulging his pM, W»s ««bl)kst up whole by Acassiz-- Xte peripatetic Agassis! The iurile-dissecting Agassis! The illustrious, industrious Agaaatx! • wflh. me to Cambridge some cool, pleasant day, And tbe skeleton-lover 111 show you; BS"S SE & hard case, but hell look in your face, ing (the rogue!) he don't know yon! Oh, the deeply deceptive young turtle! The double-faced, glassy-cased turtle! The green, but a very nwdfc-turtle! , Nicholas for August. WARNED OF A WARS IK 6. If the reader who has this page before |QS eyes be one of those who will believe «**y what they understand, or who--be- Oftuse some imposters, pretending to 4esi "with the supernatural, have been «posed--treat with ridicule the idea £u»t spirits can or will interpose in the affairs of mortals here below, let him tfdp the whole article, and go on to the *ert He will have a very good dime's worth without it. To the more tolerant 1 would explain that I tell this tale as it Was told to me, suppressing real names and altering the scene, according to a rraise I have made. I will not attempt account for anything. The main facts were narrated by a person sane in mind and strong of body--a man of singular ly truthful disposition. The sequel I Witnessed with my own eyes, so you Bay be quite sure that you will not come across the old familiar "dodge" of Basking wonders turn out to be "the Isesciess fabric of a vision." In the year 1864 when I first met Frank Conroy, he was a handsome, brave, simple-minded bov. Eleven years later I saw him again. He was a great deal bigger, but very little changed. The same dark-brown curly hair with a {glint of red in it, the same laughing blue eyes, the same almost-girlish smile, the same contempt for all that was mean or crue^; only he didn't burst out cry ing now when touched by such things. He stood six-feet-one in his rowing cboes, and I would just as soon have a ttmie kick me as feel the full weight of fcis arm. A gentle giant, this Frank Conroy, with fair abilities, good pros- |»ecte, a happy home, troops of friends, •aid fcae sweetest girl in Virginia loving Mm with all her heart. This was Annie Jamesley, the only daughter of a planter whose fortunes had survived the ravages OS the civil war, and who lived in a jQpa&d old house on the James river, ; tmo fifty miles above Richmond. Her Bflfcher had died when she was a child. - Anne was petite, of course, or she worild not have had big Frank at her 'tmyifeet; and there was a roundness -and--soi&iess about the lower part of her " "#»» wfaaeli appeared to be of the wax- doll order until you had taken in her - and Isow. I say "taken in," be cause they .grew upon you. She was not S reigning belle, however. Frank *ior op zr soon she c^rs® cut • «~4nat Tras me reason, Slio did not "-consider dancing the German as the end -fan?-object of existence ; and she car- too many guns for the beaux of period--that was another. There were ups and downs, in and outs, in the Characters of this pair which favored Hie forging of an excellent weld when the great hammer-man, Love, should »bee them, all aglow, on his anvil. At Crsfc big Frank was indolent, little Amite &ssbdtiott» ; he was realistic, she roman tic; lie somewhat too easy-going to keep off fees, she somewhat too given to cyn- sssssx to gain friends. In a short time they began to rub off each others' an- to fill up each others' deficien cies He was 21, and she 18, and they were to be married as soon as he had taken his degree. Xn all sorts of athletic contests and ^anccises he had already graduated with the highest honors. In public little Annie rather discouraged these pursuits, %rai her heart glowed with delight when too Harvard boat dashed first under the eating, and No. 3, the CaptaiD, was car ried out of it in triumph. She tore her gHetty lace handkerchief into shreds -daring the first laps of the three-mile foot-race, as the runner who wore her colors on his great heaving chest ap peared only fifth in the contest. She ©essihin't bear to see him beaten; and when at last he put on his spurt and went through his men like a rocket, her ilwiart beat faster than his own. At the jSnap when this account commences he *wm in training for another great boat- zaee, and reading hard too; for your rowing man can be a good book-worker 9 he please. Now staying on a visit at the home of jour betrothed is both useful and charm ing; useful, because it gives you an in- into her character which is not to be gained out in society; and charming ---well, there is no need to elaborate that Mise. But it does not conduce to close afeady. St. Anthony himself could not his eyes on his book when the Fattier of Evil took the shape of a pretty woman - to whom, by-the-by, he was not •engaged; so how can you expect that a warm-hearted young fellow from Harv ard could work in the presence of his lady -love ? Why did he not lock himself «j in his room ? He did, but what was the use! If she went about singing, as was her wont, he listened, and Plato anight reason as he pleased unattended Jto. If she was silent, he (big Frank, i®ot Plato) wondered what she was doing, 'And Orestes raved in vain. The only ^chance for work was when she went saway from house and grounds visiting ©ome neighbors; and this, when she knew the consequences, she did as often as she could. She was proud of her lover, and wanted him to take a good degree. Xll6S6 absences generally larited till luncheon- time; but one day she came down to breakfast in her riding-habit, and told him she was going to see the MeMlles. Seeing the Melnllee meant ja ride, oat and home, of two-and-twenty miles. " Mayn't I jro with yon ?" be asked. "No, sir. You have been shamefully idle lately; besides, 1 have lots of things to say to Janey " (her chief bride-maid elect), " and you would be in the way. Ton need not expect to see me again till dinner," she replied. Seven o'clock was their usual dinner time. Frank improved the shining hours--read till noon, then he took a brisk walk till 2, then he read till 5, then, like a wise man, he pat away his books, and packed up what he bad learned into his brain. It was autumn, when the twilight comes soon and quickly deepens into night. The time flipped away, as it will do when one's mind is busy, and when Annie came into the room, dressed for the evening, he was quite surprised. " Back again so soon ! ana dressed al ready !" he exclaimed, rising to greet her ; but she moved away from him to ward the window, and stood there silent, gazing into the rapidly deepening twi light. "Frank dear,"she said, after a pause, " I want to warn you about something." "Ail right; go on," he replied, again advancing. "No, do not come near me. Stay where you are. Do not be surprised if some day you see a lady in your room." "A lady!" " Who will bfe there," she continued, not heeding his interruption, "for no light purpose. If she should speak to you, take good heed of what she says, for--for the sake" of her who loves you." " Why not say ' for my sake ?'" " Well, then, for my sake." " And who is this mysterious coun selor?" "Nevermind." " Oh, but I do mind. If there is any thing I hate, it is the idea of any one coming between you and me. When I have something to say to you, I say it right out, and I want you to do the same. Is this person a friend t" "A great friend." " Then introduce us, aua let His all three talk it over, whatever it is; or, better still, hear what she has to say, and tell me yourself." " We can not. always manage that such things as these should come exactly as we wish," she answered, in a low, sad voice. "No; but don't you think, Annie, that my receiving a lady in my room is not as good an arrangement as could be made ?" " I told you not to be surprised if she came. I did not say positively that she would come." , "If she does come, it will be with your consent ?" "She could not do so without." "Then you won't be jealoub?" he asked, without a smile. "There will be no cause for jeal ousy." ' v " You seem to be in a very strange humor to-day, dear." " Why do you think that?" "Yonr voice and manner lire changed. Are you ill, darling? Is--" "Stay where you are," she again in terrupted, motioning him back to his seat. "This will pass. Let us say no more on the subject. Give me your solemn promise that you will not say another word about it--only remember. "Well, dear, I think that is the very best thing I can do, for really--" "Promise." " I promise--there f And now--" "No, you shall not move. Let me go. I will come down again in a few minutes. Be a good hoy, Fi.tak, and let me Iiave i^y way." He turned round, half vexfed, to put away his notes, and whea he looked up again she was gone. He kept his promise, and he had his reward. Annie was even more than usually bright and loving all the rest of that evening. The next day passed as usual, and on the next bat one there was a picnic, which would mot have end ed as pleasantly as it began but for big Frank. Returning by the light of the moon, the negro coachman (who had taken more champagne heel-taps than conduced to careful driving) managed to put the two off wheels of the carriage which contained the Annesley party into the ditch at a turn in the road where the horses could not get a straight pull at it, and ten miles from home! Frank jast lifted the whole thing out bodily--An nie and all; fur (as he said with one of his cheery laughs) "You don't weigh any thing." Then he drove them home, leaving Sambo to sober himself by a walk. "I wonder if Samson was much stronger than you are ?" said Annie, as he kissed her good-night, looking up, full of love and pride, into his hand some face. "Poor old Samson! His strength did not do him much good, after all," he laughed. " Oh, Frank! It saved his country, and helped him to a glorious end. I think there is nothing in history so splendid as the retribution he worked on his persecutors--crushing them in the hour of triumph, jrith the temple of their false gods." "The muff! he should have gone outside and pushed,' said prosaic Frank. When he opened the door of the room he found that the lamp was alight This was unusual, for he always had lit it himself. There were French windows on two sides of this chamber opening into the gallery. Two faced him as he entered; the other pair were hidden by the bed and its mosquito bar. They were all wide open ; for he loved fresh air, and laughed colds to scorn. It was almost as light as day. The full moon filled the veranda with its soft, silvery beams, and the dark evergreens below were ablaze with iite-fiies; a night which tempts one to do anything but go to bed. Frank took off his ooat and boots, made himself comfortable in the rocking-chair, filled a big pipe with neriqtue, and thought he would read a little, as lie had passed an idle day. As he rose to get his book he heard a gentle tap at the Venetian blinds outside. Fly ing jnotha* bkmdering altar a light, as is their wont, make such noises ; so he did not notice it. After a moment or two it was repeated loudef, and a wo man's voice said, " May I oome in?" Now by this time he bad forgotten all about the visit he might possibly receive, but was not surprised when a lady walked in without waiting for an answer. It does not take long to say " May I come in ?" jet m she spoke those few words iiie wiiole ui Lis uuuversation wiui Annift on the day before yesterday came back to his mill a. _ " You are not surprised at this inva sion?" asked his visitor. She was ap parently about 80 years of age ; tall, slight, and elegantly dressed. A lace- edged handkerchief was loosely knotted round her throat, and in her hand she carried a common palmetto fan. She spoke in that sub-tone of assertion which a well-bred woman of her age has gener ally acquired without knowing how, and shoddy folk labor after in viiin all their lives. Grant that a stranger could adopt this mode of presenting herself--and had not Annie told Mm feat she might ? --and nothing could be more natural. Frank replied that be was not a bit surprised, and advanced his best chair, which she declined. "No, thanks," she said, leaning one hand against the side of the window space, and fanning herself. " I won't come in any farther. Do you sit down and listen to what I have to say. I won't keep you long. Oh! you * may smoke. I don't mind that in the least. But I insist! I will not say a word till you have made four good puffs. That is right. One--two--three--four; now for it." Frank began to feel that he must have known this lady for several years, so completely did she put him at his ease. "Don't you think," she continued, "that when a man is engaged to be mar ried, it is high time for him to leave off playing like a boy?" " Certainly it is." " That's right. All the running and rowing and jumping is well enough in its way. It makes boys men ; but it makes men just a little bit coarse--at least that is my view." "May I ask if Annie shares that opinion?" "Let us leave her out of thfa dis cussion. She knows nothing about it." "And yet she prepared me for -- pleasure," said Frank, dryly. " Never mind. I repeat, she knows nothing about my present object. If she did, I am afraid she would not much assist me, for she is proud of her great nt.Wete. I am old enough to be her mother, and" (with a bright smile) " am not in love with you, so I can talk sense. Now, really, what is there worth winning that you have not already won ? Why risk defeat ?" " 1 am not afraid of that." "The confidence of the man! "Well, I'll put it another way. Why not give some one else a chance ? Do you think it is fair to monopolize all the Slory and silver cups? You greedy giant!" This shot went home. Frank despised "pot-hunters." Was he a pot-hunter himself? " There, I see you are coming round/' his visitor resumed, pursuing her advan tage. " Promise me that you will stick to your books like a good boy, take a splendid degree, and give up rowing and all that sort of thing, once and for ever." "Would it be indiscreet to inquire whom I have been so fortunate as to in spire with such a deep interest in my affairs?" " Ah! do not be sarcastic. You can not tell how it pains me," she said. He looked up, ana felt a power of tender, sad pleading which quite subdued his impulse to resent her interference. " I have no right, I know," she continued, " to ask this promise for myself. I am nothing to you; but 1 love Annie--oh ! how fondly! I plead for her, and this I say,. ̂ lemnly, Co '̂oy; if j our in fection be as deep as she deserves it should be, you will not hesitate. Man, man, what is success in a game, that you should prefer it to the happiness of the woman you love?" "You seem in earnest." " I am in earnest." " Well, I'll talk it over with her." 41 Think it over by yourself first," said his visitor, after a pause, during which she seemed to be struggling with something she wished to add, and dared not. "And if you can not resolve--as I pray you may--then you can tell her what has passed to night. Good-by. God bless and guide you t" She kissed her hand to him, and passed out into the bright moonlight. '*1 ought to have thanked her, any how," he mused, when she had gone. " What an unmannerly dog she'll think me! She's not far wrong. I ought to give other fellows a turn, and I'm not sure whether a lighter man at No. 3-- Well, I'll sleep on it. Who the deuce can she be?" Who the deuce can she be ? was the question which filled his mind when he woke--much earlier than usual--in the morning, and diligent inquiries made of all the servants about failed to satisfy it. JShould he ask Annie? No; he was a little piqued with Annie. It was absurd to suppose thai; these two were not in concert. And how unfair to make him promise not to speak of what should pass, and then send this person to lec ture him! True, he had " this person's" Eermission to talk it over with Annie if e could not make up his mind to follow her advice; but he had done so, and there was an end of that part of the case. He had made a sacrifice much against the grain, and therefore--man like--he hedged by getting cross with a woman. He wandered about from his room to another, fretting, fidgeting, unsettled. He tried to read. He opened one book, and it was too heavy ; another, and it was too flippant. He went out into the garden, and the chirruping of the birds annoyed him. He returned to the house and made for Mr. Annesley's study. His host was an early riser, and he wanted some one to talk to. Mr. Annesley was not down yet. On his table lay a black leather case, with silver clasps, that Frank had not noticed before. He uu- did the clasps and opened it. It con tained a photograph of the woman who had visited him the night before. " Now I can find out all about you," he chuckled, " without breaking any prom ise." As he gazed at the picture,and took in its details, a recollection arose which puzzled him. Man as he was, he re membered that his visitor's dress, though of costly materials and in excel lent taste, was made in a fashion which ha/i long since gone out. The dress of the picture was in the same style. _ How was this ? As he mused, Annie tripped in, gay and bright as ever, and he laid a soft little hand on his shoulder. "Up so early!" she cried gayly. Then, as she saw what he held, her face became suddenly sad. "Whose likeness ia this?" be asked, not noticing Hit) change. " Poor, dear mamma's" she replied, with a sob. Then his heart gave a great bound, and a cold, sickening stupor fell upon Mm. " Annie, dear," he said, when, after a mighty effort, he regained some com mand over Bis suspense (she, poor child, only thought he was sharing her sorrow, which the Hight of that loved and long-lost face had awakened), "you must give me back my promise." " What promise V" «* That I made you the day you rode over to see the Melvilles." "I don't remember your promising anything that day. What was it ?" " To remind you would be half break ing it. Surely you can not have forgot ten?" "Let me see. You read me 'How Santa Glaus came to Simpson's Bar' out of Bret Harte, and pretended that it dic^ not make you cry." *( That was after dinner." " In the morning you and papa were talking about fishing, and I listened." "It was not in the morning or in the evening that I made you that promise, Annie. It was in the twilight, when you returned from your ride." " Why, Frank! I went straight up to my room. It was so late I had hardly time to change my thing?, I never saw you from the time you mounted me at 11 o'clock, till when we met at dinner. What are you dreaming about? Oh, Frank darling ! what is the matter ? Are you ill ?" Again the cold, sickening stupor ran through him, and he fell forward over the table, speechless. I, who tell this story, was a surgeon in the navy, and spending a short leave of absence as a visitor in the house where the scenes I have attempted to describe took place. Annie's shrieks called her father, who called me, and, between us, we restored poor Frank to conscious ness. I did not like the look of this seizure, but said nothing. No one con sulted me. Still I watched him closely, and at breakfast, when the mail-bag came in, and he read his correspon dence, I noticed that he received a sec ond shock. That afternoon he called me into his own room, and told me what had hap pened to nim, almost as it is worded here. He had evidence (acquired since morn ing) which proved beyond the possibili ty of doubt that Annie was miles away from the house when what he took for her spoke to him in the library. I heard him out, and made the usual reply. He had been dreaming--his nerves were out of order. " They are now," he said ; " but sup pose any one had asked you about them the day before yesterday, what would you have said ?" Had I been obliged to reply, I must have admitted that a less nervous per son, in the sense of being likely to give way to delusions, could hardly be found, but he did not wait for an answer, and went o n : "As for dreaming, that is--excuse me, doctor--absurd, I was wide-awake on Tuesday evening, and I did not go to bed for an hour at least after my visitor left me on Thursday night. Now let us consider the surroundings. I was warned of a warning ! Warned in the kindest, gentlest manner. Why? If I had been unprepared for the second manifestation, it would have startled, shocked me. Why was I--a hale, strong man, as you and all the rest thought me --to be guarded against a shock ? Why was I to bq turned from pursuits which you and all tho rc«« would have said yes terday had made me so hale and so strong, by supernatural means? Read that. He handed me a letter--the one he had read at breakfast. It was from the Secretary of a life-insurance company, thanking him for the preference he had shown the seciety, but declining his proposal. " The week before last," he continued, " I was examined by their medical of ficer--as a matter of form, they said. He measured me round the chest, and tapped and stethoscoped me, and this is the result." " Insurance companies have all sorts of crotchets--" I began. " Doctor," he interrupted, quietly taking off his coat and vest, and slipping the brace off his left shoulder, "you know as well as I do what it means. There is something wrong--awfully wrong--here " (placing his hand on his heart). "That is why I was warned against a surprise ; that is why my poor darling's dead mother conjured me to avoid violent sports ; that is why the insurance company rejected me; that is why I confide in you. Now tell me the truth." I placed my ear to his side, and took three different soundings. Then I told him, as carelessly as I could, that I had no stethoscope with me, and he was too agitated just then for a fair examination. " I'll see if I can't borrow some tools," I said, " and see you to-morrow morn ing, when you will be more composed." " As you wi21," he replied; " but you are mistaken about composure. I shall never be more composed than I am at this moment." " How can you say so, after your at tack only a few hours a^o? " I asked. " That is all over. I know all now." " Tush V" I sneered, trying to get oat of i$iy difficulty by appearing impatient- " You knf)i» absolutely nothing. " All right, doctor," he said, with one of his bright smilee, and resuming his coat; " I admit it. I don't know how breath© or how I swallow. I don't know how I was born or what will happen to make me die. I don't know why I wink an eye when a grain of dust comes along in the air. But I do breathe and swal low. I have been born and I shall die; and somehow the grain of dust will be caught on my eyelash. I don't know why these visitations have oome to me; but they have come, doctor, and for a reason. Look me in the face, andtatt me that 1 have a sound heart." I could not do it. " So farewell," he went on, cheerfully, 'along farewell to all the old fun. Othello's occupation's gone.'" " And he will settle down into a quiet married man," 1 added, to humor him; but his face darkened. ' Do you think I am justified--" he began. " But you shall answer me that to-morrow." I hope you have not said anything about this to Miss Annesley ?" I asked, after a pause. . " God forbid!" ^ " ^ " But she must Insve gffeMnd that something was wrong when you spoke to her about that promise." 'Perhaps she did for the moment, but my fainting fit--I couldn't help it, doctor--put it out of her mind. If she returns to the subject, I shall get round it somehow. Of course I may rely upon your silence." 'Are you two going to waste all the day up were?" cried Annie, from the garden. ft Come down, Frank; I want you to help me cut some flowers." He joined her, and 1 stood watching them from the gallery. To-morrow I would tell him what I knew too well al ready. There was indeed something awfully wrong with his heait. And who would have thought it, to look at him? He seemed the very picture of health ; but the last ten minutes of the foot-race, the last fifty strokes of the oar, when the spirit forced the flesh to more thap mortal doings had done their silent work. I should have to tell Mm to be very, very careful. I should be able to comfort him by saying that men as badly off as he was had made old bones, and died in their beds, at last, of something else. I stood rehearsing how this was to be told when I heard Annie's voice again. " No, not that one; it's too full blown. There is a lovely bud a little higher up. No, no, you stupid great fellow; there, to your right." They were standing under a climbing rose bush, and she was pointing to a spot about a yard over his head. Stand ing on tiptoe, he could just touch the stem of the coveted flower, but not hold it, and of course it bobbed from his fingers. "If you jump you can catch it,M said Annie. As she spoke he sprang, seized the rose (which was pulled down by his weight), and fell against the fence upon which the bush was trained. "Oh, how awkward you are to-day," Annie oried. " Well, why don't you break it off and give it to me ?" The next moment he slid to the ground at her ftet--DEAD ! The champion athlete of his day was killed in a struggle with a rose-bud.-- Harper\s Bazar. -fi A Terrible Thunderbolt* The Greeley (Ool.) Tribune gives the following particulars of a terrible casu alty by lightning : Last Sunday after noon about 3:30 o'clock, lightning struck Mr." Gilford's ranch house, nearly thirty miles down the Platte, \>n the north shore. Mr. Gifford had gone from the house on horseback, leaving Mr. Hum phrey, aged about 25, Mrs. Humphrey, aged 22, and a hired man named Alonzo Woodson, aged 22, from Missouri. A storm was coming up, and when near Mr. Girardeau's place, about a mile dis tant, he heard a terrible crash, and look ing back he saw the house on fire. He went back immediately, and Mr. Girar deau followed so soon as he saddled a horse, and he reached the place in time to give assistance. The house was now all in a flame and no one could enter, but the siding was torn off, and, the smoke escaping, Mr. Humphrey and his wife were discovered on a lounge covered with flame. It would appear that they had been startled by previous thunder claps, and that she, as is natural to wo men, was frightened, and he had put his left arm around her as if to protect her, and so firmly were the muscles of his arm fixed in death that it was necessary to bring them both out of the house to gether, and they were buried together, a separation oeins impossible. Mr. Woodsan was found in the back room. All were burned black, and in places red, and almost beyond recognition, but an imprint was made by the embroidery of her chemise on her breast, which was burned but little, and a lock of her long hair was preserved and given to her friends, having probably fallen on his arm, and this arm was but little burned. Hi« legs were burned off up to his knees. The Present War Long in Contempla tion by the Sioux. The present war has been in contem plation by tbe Sioux for a long time. Charles Jones, of Washington city, states that in 1872 he was in charge of the Flathead tribe of Indians in Montana. In the spring of that year, two of the tribe having spent the winter in Sitting Bull's camp hunting buffaloes, returned to the Flathead agency and called upon Mr, Jones, giving much interesting de tail in regard to the intentions of the Sioux. Among other things they said that runners had been dispatched to all the neighboring tribes, inviting their at tendance at a general council JOT the purpose of declaring war against the whites. Sitting Bull, who was then and there directing these movements, had with him a very talented white man, a Mexican, whom the Indians know by the name of Frank, who was a desperate fel low, and conversant with the English, Spanish, French and German languages, besides speaking, in addition, all tho various dialects of the Sioux. Every thing seen and subsequently related by tho two Indians indicated war on an ex tensive scale. Frank, the white man alluded tc, had quite a lot of manuscript papers taken by Sitting Bull from the whites on various occasions, and was then acting as a kind of private secre tary to him, and had great influence oyer him in all his movements and determin ations, This man is believed to be one of the white men, if not the principal one, who assisted Sitting Bull in his operations during the Ouster massacre, and is supposed to be the presiding genius over the movements on the field. IT is given on the authority of a New Orleans paper that there is in that city a hog with its ears so far back that he can- i not hear himself squeal. TBE NIGHT-WIND. BY THOIIAS BAILET AXJ>BIC||^ i . ' Ala lonely Inn among the pines ' v .* I »it alone in the firelight "ft glow# 1 ,,,* Loclng myaelf in tne backlog's minea, And eearlng the night-wind come and 'And now it threatens, and now it grieves, Pleads at the lintel, or slams a bund; Kov it prowSa, Mullen, about the eavee-- Zhis protean, bitter autumn wind. Fiercely it swoons on the dooTsid^ yvw, AM a vulture drops upon its prey; And now in the throat of the sootv fine I hear it howl, like a beast at bay. Sow it flies shrieking across the downs. And now, like a ghost, it whispers me Of |>eople starving to death in towns, Abd of wrecks a thousand leaonaa it -- --Atlantic Monthly. * Pith and Point. KHI'N TNIMVBS'--IJILUKNIAKIL^R 4 IT would be better for proof-readers if all the Turkish Generals were named Smith. OFTENTIMES a man ransacks the whole house for a pin, and, not being able to find cue, drops into a chair with dis gust, and is immediately rewarded for ' the search. THF, boy's first really great lesson in acting usually takes place upon meeting his mothor in search of the pan*ry-key, which lies securely at the bottom of his > trousers-pocket. A SENSIBIIK writer advisee those who would enjoy good eating to keep good-f natiwed, for, says he, " an angry man cannot tell whether he is eating boiled cabbage or stewed umbrellas." RHODE ISLAND farmers cut hay in the night. When one of them gets nervous and can't sleep, he gets up and mows the State over, after which he goes to ' bed, and gets a good night's rest. THE worst case of sunstroke of the season is reported from Williamsburg, where a 7-year-old boy broke a base-ball , bat in an attempt to brush a fly off his father's esa.--J^ew York Dispatch. AT the French Assembly, 7:15 p. m.: Speaker (aside to member)--For heaven's , sake, finish your speech I I give a din- , ner party to-night. Member (aside to Speaker)--I know it. Another tsme you'll invite me. IT has just transpired that Philadel- • phia has a surplus of 20,000 females over males in its population. A great many people have wondered why this city was fixed upon for the Centennial Exhibi tion. Perhaps they will leave off won dering after this.--Judy. IN a city where unlicensed dogs are rapidly being disposed of by the revolv ers of the police, a little girl who had heard of the frequent deaths and their cause, asked her mother, when a gentle man died next door, "Whatmade Mr. die? Wasn't he licensed ?" THE First Lord of the Admiralty on his first voyage down the Thames, in rather a leaky vessel, observed the men working the pumps. " Dear me!" he said, " I did not know you had a well on board, Captain, but I am really very glad, as I do detest the river water."-- Punch. A FABLE FOR KULBR8. A King of Persia, on A certain day. Bode with his courtiers to the chase away. Thirst overcame him ON a desert plain. Long time he sought a cooling fount in vain. At «»st he chanced upon a garden fine, Well stocked with luscious orange, grape and pin*. " Now, G%d forbid that I MY thirst should slue," The monarch said, "for this fair garden's sake; For if one single fruit to pluck 1 dare, My viziers here will strip the orchard bare." AN old scientist says this world will eventually be one solid chunk of ice; and one could not help thinking last night, as he vainly endeavored to Ian. himself to sleep, that the time is rapidly approaching. That is, the time is r&pidlgr approaching when such old frauds should be roasted to ueatli. Yesterday and iasfe night would have dissolved a chunk of ice twice as large as this world.--Nor- ristown Herald. SAID the end-man to Mr. Johnson, " Now, sail, if Mr. Stringman's beauti ful music store was to burn up, what would most sartinly be destroyed ?" "Destroyed, sir ?" " Yah, dat's it, de stroyed. You has de idee." " Well, sir, what would most certainly be destroyed?" " Why, de forty pianners and de organB. Yaw!" ;" And why would the piano fortes and the organs; be de stroyed ?" ' 'Kase de injines was nebber taught to i'lay upon dem, sah. Hi t yaw!" 'IHK Albany Law Journal furnishes some of the freshest specimensof forensic wit, to the cultivation of which the hot weather does not seem to be very favor-* able : " A lawyer by the name of Frean (pronounced Frain) is a member of the bar in one of the counties in this State, and Mr. Croak is the District Attorney. During a discussion on some subject the District Attorney wished Mr. F. to * re frain from any other remarks.' Mr. F. (promptly), 'I will when you stop Croaking.'" THE other evening, at an evening par ty, a young lady, gorgeously attired, was sitting at a piano singing an aria. The sweet sounds were yet lingering in the enraptured ears of her auditors when a polite dry-goods clerk of this city, who stood near the piano, leaned over and whispered admiringly : "Miss, you sing divinely; all my soul is thrilled with the rapture of your voice." The fair songstress looked shyly up, and, toy ing with a diamond ring on one of her fingers, replied: "Is that so? Well, I guess I ain't much of a slouch at this business. I can sing right around them other gals!" A Beggar in a Carriage. A London beggar in the habit of dragging himself about on his hands and knees was recently arrested for the offense. It appeared on the trial that he had once been furnished gratuitously with a denkey and a cart to sell cats' meat, but he sold them instead and re turned to begging as more profitable. He supported himself, wife and six chil dren very comfortably, and on Sunday was in the habit of Jiiring a horse ana carriage and taking a drive. He was committed to jail and hard labor for a month, and on his way there turned over a full handful of silver and copper coin to his wife, telling her to take care of it. By the laws of Ohio, the person first informing the Coroner of a county of the death of any person upon whose re mains it is deemed advisable to hold an inquest to ascertain the cause of death, is allowed $1. The races that are some times run for this SI are worth ten times that amount to loaf upon. A