Pea jm .-i-F • mf i • 'b f* ^ .lit" P&vt ^y - . - • • ,,U:\'*'. ^ J,.** /< THE BALD'BKADKI) TYRANT. BT lUll I. VAKDZKC. n! tfc»tnMHt home on earth tad I, fo fhotrfcht of frouble, no bint of care; MJke a dream of pleasure the days flew by. Ant9. IV aoe had folded her plnionn there. Ba< one day there joined in our household bud A bald-headed tyrant from No-man's-lauJ, Ofc.! the deRjKU came in the dead of niglpj^ , ^ And no one ventured to ask him why; " * •Ike slaves we trembled befors hi« might, Our h»arta stood still when we heard him cry; Ibr nev -r a soul could his power withstand,, Xhat bald-headed tyrant from No-nmr> K-la&d. ordered qs here and he sent as there-- Though nfvor a word could his small life apeak-- ^fcth bis toothless gums and his vacant state, ind his helpless limbs so frail and weak, *011 cried, in a voice of stern command. <*Go up, thou bald head from No-uian'a-land!" Bat his abject slaves they turned on me; , Jjifee the bears in Scripture they'd rend me there, f̂ce while they worshiped with bended knee This ruthless wretch with the missing hair; WOr he ruios them ail with relentless hand, This bald-headed tyrant from No-man's-land. jffcenl searched for help in every ellmei*' For peace had fled from my dwelling jtafir, ^01 1 finally thought of old Father Timo, And low before him I made my bow. tt thou deliver me out of hie hand. This bald-headed tyrant from No-man's-tendt" Old Time he looked with a puzzled stare, And a smile came over his features grim, . ""Mill take the tyrant nndcr my cate; Watch what my hour-glass does to hint,.. ' The veriest humbug that evar was planned , Xa tiiis same bald-bead from No-man's-land." Old Time is doing his work full well- Much less of might does the tyrant wield: But. ah' with sorrow my heart will swell And sad tears fall as I see him yield. OouKi I stay the touch of the shriveled hand, . V • X woUl<i keep the bald-head from No-man's-land. Par the loes of peace I have ceased to care; Like other vassals, I've learned, forsooth, To lore the wretch who forgot his hair And hurried along without a tooth. And he rules me. too, with his tiny hand, This bald-headed tyrant from No-man's-land. --Harper's Magazine, for September. MIS TWO LOVES. Two, and Montague Garthorn loved them both. It does not seem possible, nevertheless it is true ; and, stranger still, they both loved him. He was not worthy ot half the good things the fates showered on him with such lavish hands; Imt who in this world ever get their deserts ? It is a thoroughly false theory that virtue brings its own reward ; long •go it might, but now it certainly does not, or Opal Garthorn's life would have txfen happier. As long as Opal could remember she had worshipped her cousin Montague. As a child he was ber hero, and as she grew up her chief delight was to be noticed by him. When she "came oi^t," and he seemed to take pleasure in being with her, her joy knew no bounds; and at length when he asked her to be his wife, she oould hardly realize that the dream of her life had come to pass, and he felt as if he .could not do enough to show his love for the beautiful girl who had promised to marry him. ( Montague Garthorn was well off, and, his parents being both dead, he had %>eoome a "spoilt child " in all his relar •toons' households, and many a Mistress •Garthorn had been anxious to catch this excellent parti for her daughter. Great was the surprise of the Garthorns gen erally when it was known that he intend- <ed making his distant cousin Opal his ^fife. Opal's love for him was so unselfish, •oo womanly (and how much deeper is a woman's love than a man's can possibly i>e!). ' When I say she loved him with .. feer whole heart, better than life, my words seem cold and passionless, and «annot convey the meaning of her de- * VDtedness. < • • When he asked her to marry him soon die would not listen to him, but stipulated for another year of freedom, because " he might see some one he liked bet ter," and with whom he would be more liappy. Her delight consisted in seeing trim happy, so she said, and so she •••leant, no doubt; but really she felt such confidence in his entire devotion, and judged him so much by herself, that «he never for a moment realized the idea of his loving any one but her. Mon- vtague Garthorn considered that if heun- • derstood one thing thoroughly, that one tiling was himself ; so he was annoyed -#t her doubting him even in this loving %ay, and he resolved to prove that no •woman of lures and wiles oould influ- blue eyes, and a mouth like a Cupid's bow. Nellie Wylde, the second woman who loved Montague Garthorn, met him now for the first time, with her bright baby-face covered with blushes, and with her tiny hands held out to him to help her lif^, on to the seat a large parcel she had with hen " It is a new dress I Jiave bought at Westbourne Stove," she told him, " and going to sit up to make it to go to • ball." He was charmed with the simplicity of the child, as he considered her, ana condescendingly asked her her age. "Seventeen, soon," she answered. And then all the color seemed to die out Of her cheeks and leave her very pale. He watched her for some time, and then her merry voice broke his reverie by Saying: - ** I have been ill; this is the first time I have been out. Father would scarcely let me come; but I wanted my dress so much;" and then, without waiting for any remark from Mr. Garthorn, she asked if he had ever been to a ball, and what they were like. " Yes, child, many. Good-by. This is my station." " It is mine, too," Nellie answered. " and father said he would meet nie and carry my parcel home." What less could Montague do than assist her to alight and carry her parcel up stairs ? and theri, not finding any one waiting for her, he could not do less than offer to carry it home. And in that little walk how his heart went out to this child, who had not an idea beyond the moment's pleasure, who found life so bright, although her father kept a chemist's shop in a back street and let lodgings 1 Why not leave her as she is, happy, young, heart-whole, and in smooth water? Why force her into stormy weather, when she is now so safe ? But already the harm is done, and Montague is fascinated fatally by this child, in whose nature there is no depth, and who could never feel any thing, whether of pain ftr joy, with half the keenness that Opal can. The beautiful blue eyes look without flinching into his, as she warbles forth an invitation to come and have supper. "We are not grand; we only have watercresses in the shop-parlor." He goes in, and Nellie Wylde's father thanks him, and the back parlor is para dise, the watercresses food for the gods, the theater forgotten; and as he looks at and listens to Nellie, Opal, in the cool back drawing-room, has become a thing of the past. "What bail are you going to, Miss Wylde?" " At Aunt Mary's ; their first floor is empty, and they are going to have a dance. Call me Nellie--every one does ; it seems too grown up to call me Miss Wylde." " That is not a real ball; but if you would like to go to one of the best halls in London, I will take you to Willis' Rooms to-morrow night." " Oh, father, say ' Yes,'" said Nell, as she threw her arms round his neck. " I don't know what is right to say," ruminated Mr. Wyl^e; "only as you have very little pleasure and no mother, perhaps it would not be any harm." So it was settled that beautiful, bright Nellie was to make her first entry into London society. Montague at last tore himself away from the enchanted chemist's shop. Now came the time to think--to think of what he had done. Of course, it was too late to go to the theater ; in fact, everything seemed too late, now that the door of Mr. Wylde's house was shut. What had he done ? Promised to take, Nellie to a ball, and he was engaged to go to a dinner-party with Opal! What should he do ? Go home, and make the best of his dilemma. Next morning, Montague knew something must be done ; so he got his writing materials, and intended to write to Nellie to tell her he could not take her to the ball; but directly he began, the vision of those blue eyes filled with tears, and that smiling mouth pouting, was too much for him, so he changed his mind, and wrote briefly to Opal " that unforeseen circumstances prevented him going out to dinner with her to-morrow. Opal is so good-natured, she won't mind." He •once him when he had the assurance of Opal's love. Opal ^ was standing at the drawing- i thought little of her breaking heart, lsooin* window, gazing into the twilight j though he thought so much of tearful Jor her lover, while her mother and blue eyes. father chatted together. At last she • beau's his footstep on the stairs, and they •re together. " Opal, will you go to the theater to night? I have promised to meet Archer Jhere." '1 Must you go, Montie •"Well, dear, I think must; but woif't you come ?" Opal does not want to go, and she does not want him to go without her; but before1 she has time to make up her Blind what answer to give, her mother settles the question by saying she " can- mot allow Opal to go, as she is tired with day's shopping." Montague remained a few minutes longer, then rose to take his leave. Opal -«W4R dull, felt a leaden weight at her heart. What for?--surely not because her lover was going to meet a man at the Cheater. Nevertheless she could not Ahrow the gloom off, and as she bade iiim good-by tears rose to her eyes and seemed to tremble in her voice; so much <•0 that even Montie, the most unobserv ant of men, noticed them, and was more Affectionate in manner. " You are tired, Opal, my child; goto wed, dear." It is not that, Montie; but I feel as - I losing you; as if this was to be our last good-by." "Nonsense!" and with another kiss be was gone; while Opal gazed on him |or the last time--at leoBt saw for the last time the man who loved her as he loved no other woman. Mr. Garthorn sauntered leisurely Along, intending to take a hansom down to the Strand, when he remembered that «s ho was alone he might call for Archer At his lodgings. Instead of taking a •cab, he resolved to go by train to Gower •Street, where his friend lived. If Opal •only knew what would come of that little *ailVay journey no earthly power would Jiave prevented her going with Montie to the theater. He was thinking it was « bother to go to the play, as it was sure to be hot, and it would have been much cooler in the itack drawing-room with Opal. Here his thoughts were inter rupted and the carriage door was opened, i*nd a young girl pushed in. A girl with vtfnagnetic golden hair that seemed to inake a halo round her head, muJ. Hgftcer length1# to its causes Nellie and Mr. Garthorn went to the ball and enjoyed it. Nellie looked love ly in her fresh white muslin dress and Montague's gift of real flowers. When he left her at home, he longed for the moment when he should see her next. On his return, he found a letter from Opal, full of tender regrets at his ab sence, and assurances of her love. He resolved never to see Nellie again, and to marry Opal as soon as possible. How easy it is to make resolutions at night, ind how difficult to carry them out in the broad day ! The following afternoon, Mr. Garthorn ct lied at Opal's, and left his card, for he found her out. Then what more natural than he should see how Nellie was after her dissipation ? He found her at home, beautiful, blushing, charming, full of gratitude for the pleasure of the ball, and winning as only those childish wo men with big blue eyes can be. Her father was in the shop ; so they were alone, and before Montague knew what he was doing, he had avowed his passion to Nellie, and she had confessed that she was "very fond of him and of balls at Willis's rooms." Opal, driving in the Park, was straining her "j""* to see the be loved form of Montague Garthorn among the crowd of men leaning over tho railings. Day after day Mr. Garthorn spent with Opal, and evening after evening with Nellie. Opal was so sweetly kind to him, sang and played for him, de clared that something must be wrong, and besought him to have confidence in her and to tell her his trouble. In re ply, he kissed her, told her not " to wor ry, and that she was a foolish girL" And directly his duty visit was over, he rushed to Nellie's house, whore she met him with bright eyes, merry repartee, and kitten like caresses. She really was very lovable ; and it was 1I0 wonder that this man, who so loved being made much of, fancied she was more wor thy of such lov«! as he he had to give than the woman who would have died for him. . Things could not last much longer like this. Opal wondered why he did not come of an evening, and asked him to spend the following Monday with her, as she would be alone. He could not refuse, so all day Sunday he spent with Nellie wandering about Kensington Gar dens ; then to church with Mr. Wylde, and a delightful Bohemian supper in the shop-parlor. Afterward came the good-night; and Montague told Nellie he could not come the following day, because he had to see a cousin of his; and then he went on to say that these happy days must end, as he was going away for a long time, and would only come once more to say good-by. The blue ©yes filled with tears; the tiny hands rustled up into the air, and with a wild scream she threw herself upon the stairs, sobbing, "Montie, you cannot, shall not leave me!" " Darling, I mart." • " But you say yon lowed mfct1*'« - " God knows how much, my darling ; but I must leave you, tor 1 am in honor bound to many my cousin Opal." Nellie did not receive this announce ment haughtily, with pride, or with despair, but threw herself down at Mon tague Garthorn's feet, sobbing piteously, " You shall never marry her--the proud lady you show me in the park; but m@, your own loving Nellie, who worships you with a devotion she can never feel i" " I do believe you love me best, my golden wig," he exclaimed, as he caught her in his arms and kissed her, promis ing to call again soon. Nellie was immediately comforted, and before he had got .to the end of the street she was singing to herself as she cleared the supper-things away. On Monday, Opal dressed herself in the dress Montague admired, ordered the dishes for dinner he preferred, and made up her mind to try and win him back, remembering the words of one of our greatest writers, that " revived love is the strongest." He came in deter mined to make the evening pleasant to Opal, even to confess to her his flirta tion with Nellie--to tell her that he had rooted it up, and was ready to come back to her more devoted than ever; but Opal looked so strong in her self-posses sion, so passionless, so unsympathic, that the image of Nellie recurred to him as he saw her last in her attitude of worship at his feet. "Montie, why are you so strange? Does anything worry yoil, dear ?" "Nothing." ; ,_ ! " But I am sure it does, Have I any thing to do with it ?" "No." " Only remember, Montague, if there is anything in the world I can do for you I will." "Would you, really, Opal?" and a gleam of • hope came into his face, and for the moment he felt inclined to tell her all; and then, if only she had come toward him instead of going to the win dow, he would have made a clean breast of it, and saved Nellie and himse ' a sorrowful fortnight. Opal crossed the room, not eve v loos ing at him, and, with her eyes fixed on the street, she said: "Montague, even if you love another woman better than me I can bear it, and give you up so readily--for your happiness;" and she turned and smiled one of her brightest smiles at him. " I am but poor company to-night; so good-bye." And before she could call him back he was gone. " How little she cares for me !" he thought, while she was caring for him more than her life. For a fortnight Mr. Garthorn saw neither girl. He was selfishly unhappy ; he was in that state of mind that he did not know what to do next. He wished some one would take his destiny from him, and niake him do something. Every day he thought more of Nellie and less of Opal. The latter wrote him a kind note, hop ing he was not ill; should papa come and see him ? Nellie wrote mad letters, beseeching him to come or she would die. She was ill; she was pale; she really was dying. She should never see him more if he did not come. He sat down to answer these tetters, and felt relieved when they were fin ished. Opal received hers by the last post, and directly she saw the well-known writing she took it up to her room to read it alone. It was only a short note, and she perceived it was in a school-girl hand. It ran thus: "Own DAniiixa Ho.,TIE! Tour broken hearted golden wig is pale, ill, languid, and dying. If yon don't see lier soon it will be too late, and you can only pat flowers, in her coffin, and bid her a laat adieu. Do, do, do, come to your loving NELLIE." The address was in full on the letter, and in one moment Opal saw it all. How Mr. Garthorn had sent her this letter by mistake ; how this letter was from some one to him,; and she realized that in in truth he had found some one whom he loved more, and consequently would make him happier. Her resolution was made. Her love was no use if it was selfish. Next morning she wrote to Montague, asking for a moment's conversation that afternoon. Then she went to Nellie's home. She rather wondered at the ap pearance of the house, but fancied the lady might Jonly be staying there. Blooming, blue-eyed Nell opened the door, and Opal asked for Nellie. "Why, I am Nellie. What do you want?" " I want you to oome home with me. Mr. Garthorn will be at our house thiw afternoon." "Will he, really? Then he has not given me up, as fattier said. And I was c i unhappy, because he had gone away from me to marry his cousin. " Never mind about the cousin, Nellie. He loves you, and you cnlv ; and now you will see him very soon." " I must put on a pretty dress to see him in, Miss " "Garthorn." " Oh, you are his sister. How kiBd of him to send for me! " and she trotted away to try and smooth her golden hair. When ^ Opal arrived hbme with Nellie she hurried her into the drawing-room, and waited herself outside the door until heard Montague coming up. Then she brought him into the room, saying, " Montie, dear, I have brought your li'tie Nellie to you. You see I have found out jour secret, and am so glad to make you happy. Good-bye for the presen*. And with a ringing laugh Opal ran up stairs, only to throw herself on her bed in a paroxysm of grief. In the drawing-room Montague Gar thorn was supremely happy with the woman who he deemed loved him best. PROF, HUXLEY* The GtMt Scientist's Inai>rMsloaS Anaerloa. \ :/ Prof. Huxley, the distinguished Eng lish scientist, now on a visit to this country, recently attended a meeting of the American Scientific Congress at Buf falo, and, being called upom for a speech, responded as follows: " Since my arrival I have learned a great many things, more, I think, than ever before in an equal space of time in my life. In England we have always token a lively interest in America ; but I think no Englishman who has not had the good fortune to visit America has any real conception of the activity of the population, the enormous distances which separate the great centers ; and least of all do Englishmen understand how identical is the great basis of char acter on both sides of the Atlantic. An Englisman with whom I have been talk ing since my arrival says : ' I cannot find that I am abroad.' The great fea tures of your country are all such as I am familiar with in parts of England and Scotland. Your beautiful Hudson reminds me of a Scotch lake. The marks of glaeiation in your hills remind me of those in Scottish highlands. "I had heard of the degeneration of your stock from the English type. I have not perceived it. Some years ago one of your most distinguished men of letters, equally loved and admired in England and America, expressed an opinion which touched English feeling somewhat keenly--that there was a dif ference between your women and ours after reaching a certain age. He said our English women were ' beefy.' That isjhis word, not mine. Well, I have studied the aspect of the people that I have met herb in steamboats and railway carriages, and I meet with just the same faces, the main difference as to the men being in the way of shaving. Though I should be sorry to use the word which Hawthorne did, yet in respect to stature for fine portly women, I think the aver age here fully as great as on the other side. Some people talk of the injurious influence of climate. I have seen no traces of the * North American type.' You have among you the virtue which is most notable among savages, that of hopitality. You take us to a bountiful dinner and are not quite satisfied unless we take away with us the plates and spoons. Another feature has impressed itself upon me. I have visited some of your great universities and met men as well known in the old world as in the new. I find certain differences here. The English universities are the product of Government, yours of private mu nificence. That among us is almost unknown. The general notion of an Eng lishman when he gets rich, is to found an estate and benefit his family. The general notion of an American when for tunate is to flo something for the good of the people and from which benefits shall continue to flow. The hitter is the nobler ambition. " It is popularly said abroad that you have no antiquities in America. If you talk about the trumpery of tiiree or four thousand years of history, it is true. But, in the large sense as referring to times before man made his momentary appearance, America is the place to study the antiquities of the globe. The reality of the enormous amount of material here has far surpassed my anticipation. I have studied the collection gathered by Prof. Marsh at New Haven. There is none like it in Europe, not only in ex tent of time covered, but by reason of its bearing on the problem of evolution ; whereas, before this collection was made evolution was a matter of speculative reasoning ; it is now a matter of fact and history as much as the monuments of Egypt. In that collection are the facts of the succession of forms and the history of their evolution. All that now remains to be asked is how, and that is a subordinate question." . Tales of My Grandmother. Hoogley's boy has been spending his summer vacation with his grandfather and grandmother down East. He got home this week, and a few evenings ago, while sitting on the curbstone ad justing a rag on his sore heel, he was telling Squeaky (one of his chums) what a good time he had. The following is his BIGiJ"I've got t3 li6 old bGS3 grandmother for tellin' stories, and don't you forgit it 1 She is as much as 200 years old, with a great long crooked chin, and her face kinder looks like pork-scraps, but she's a bully old gal, and can't she tell some awful Injun stories. She says she's got three mat tresses stuffed with Injun's hair that my grandfather killed and scalped when he was a young man. All of my grand mother's pillers is stuffed with Injun's hair, too, she says. My grandfather he's got an old flintlock-gun that I guess was made when Noer cum out in the ark. My grandfather used to shoot bears'n tigers'n elefunts'n crockerdiles'n all kinds of birds and everything. My grandfather shot his gun inter a lion or wolf one day, and the wolf growed mad'n run out of the woods'n run inter a na- ber's house'n swallered three little chil dren. My grandfather he runs'n grabbed the wolf'n skinned him'n saved the children fore they's et up. Piruts used to sail up the river in front of my grandfather's house'n they used to rob folks and murder 'em and git their munny; they used to murder a thou sand folks a day sometimefi and berry the gold in a cave. My grandmother was all alone one' day, and sum piruts cum and set the house afire, and my grandmother throw'd bilin' water on the piruts, and they left four millions of gold and run off. You ought to see my grandmother and hear her tell things 1" --Boston Sunday Courier. Will of the Late M. C. Kerr. The will of the late Speaker Kerr de vises in substance that all the law-books of which he shall be the owner at the time of his death, and used by him as a law library, shall be held in trust by his wife for the use of his son, Samuel B. Kerr. He leaves all his property, real aud personal, in trust with his wife, dur ing her life, and at her death, if her son should survive her, the property will be bequeathed to him. He also provides that his mother and his wife's mother shall be provided for so far as his wife's ability may permit her so to do, and he concludes by most earnestly beseeching his son to cherish always a most sincere love of justice and truth, and to make all his aims in life consistent therewith, and they cannot fail to be high and noble. He makes his wife the sole ex ecutor «f his wilL The paper is dated May 27, 1865. I REMARKABLE SECT* . • : - i?.-. i -i The " Failerlte" Community ol lham, Mass., and What It Believes. [From the Springfield Republican.] ' As queer a people* as are often met* and, apparently, as upright and religious withal, are the community situated 00 the stage-road between Athoi and Peter sham, and commonly known thereabouts as "Howlandites," or "Fullerites." According to their account, nearly twenty Jears ago two Worcester women, Sarah . Harver and her sister, Caroline E. Hawks, had come for a Divine revela tion to them, and, in expectation of it, had gone to a camp-meeting, at. O^oton. Entering the meeting they heard a stranger "talking in tongues," who proved to be the man to meet their wants, in the person of Frederick T. Howland, a Quaker of good social stand ing, from New Bedford. That day, September 15, 1855, was the origin " in the faith," though not in the temporal, association of the community, these three being the "pioneers,"as *' Sisters- Harvey takes pride in calling herself and associates. Mrs. Harvey's husband died a year or two later, though not in the faith, "these things," as they say, "having been beyond him." Soon affcar the new belief received the addition of eight persons living in Athol, among them Leonard C. Fuller, the present head of the community, and his wife. In May, 1801, having been " moved by the spirit" to form an association for living together, they settled at Fuller's, in the south end of Pleasant street, in Athol. I11 August, 1861, they removed to their present farm in Petersham. " Brother" Howland held the position of head of the body till killed by a runaway horse, not quite twoyears ago. His peo ple considered him a prophet, and say the Lord spoke «by him, and that he led them as Moses led the children of Israel. Their religious belief in many respects resembles that of the Adventists, but differs in the vital point that the reign of Christ, under the expected new dis pensation, is to be spiritual, and not per sonal, as the Adventists hold. They construe the saying of John the Beve- lator, " I was in the spirit on the Lord's day," to refer to a period of time to be gin with the 7,000th year of the world, which is near at hand. The judgment day, they believe, has already begun, and in a short time, at the opening of the new dispensation, the holy dead are to be raised. When a man who has re ceived "common" salvation dies he has no more consciousness till the resur rection, but some, who are " specially " saved, will not die. Miracles will be performed commonly. When the new dispensation begins they are to be of the 144,000 spoken of by John, and are to judge the nations. They do not be lieve in a hypothetical heaven somo- where in space ; the earth is not to be destroyed, but changed; and, finally,the devil is to be bound for 1,000 years. They entirely denounce Spiritualism, saying that it is from the devil, a perfect anti-Christ. "Brother" Howard, they say, lay down to rise with the prophets, and they have written out what they claim to be prophecies made by him months or years before his death as to the manner in which it would occur, which, judged by the event, are certain ly striking. The community live chiefly upon fari naceous food; they drink principally water, sometimes herb tea. No flesh is eaten, because there is to be a restitu tion of the order of things that pre vailed in the Garden of Eden, and noth ing that grows in the ground, because the ground is cursed. They live on the apostolic plan of having all property in common. If any of them wish to get married, they have to leave the com munity. Morning and evening they "wait before the Lord," standing, re peat the Lord's prayer, and read and ex plain the Bible, " as the spirit gives ut terance." Although the district public school is only a stone's throw away, the half-dozen children of the community, whom they have adopted, " as the Lord sent them," are taught at home by " Sis ter" Harvey. Sometimes the neigh bors' children come in also, and they arc said to do better there tiian at the public school. The school gives an oc casional exhibition boforo the family, and a Christmas tree is provided. No jewelry is worn, and they dre3s very plaialy, though the "world'speo ple " claim that the community wear as expensive " fixins," and show as much pride as they do. The community^ ob serve a seventh-day Sabbath, extending from 3 p. m. Friday to the same hour Saturday. The religious exercises be gin at 10 o'clock Saturday and continue without intermission till 3. They are of opinion that they need not go to a "synagogue," or "where the minister has to go 'round and wake the people, as he did down to the Advent church in Athol last Sunday." The family seat themselves in the parlor upon three sides of the room, with the occasional visitors on the fourth side ; and the ex ercises consist of exhortations by the va rious members, according as they are moved by the spirit, with abundant " amens " from the rest. If no one feels called upon to speak, they study the Bible. Often they break out into singl ing. The house is free to visitors at all times. Grasshoppers in Colorado. The hopp^ came last week in num ber?. were wonderful. At times the swarm was so thick overhead that was a perceptible difference in the heat and brightness of the sun's rays, and here and there they were so deep as to resemble clouds of smoke. They did not fly far before they came down, and in such numbers as to make travel disa greeable. At evening the fences and trees and sides of houses were literally covered with them. Some of the trun£s of the trees were absolutely invisible, so close did the grasshoppers sit together. At sunrise they were again at their work of devastation. The damage to corn and garden truck is incalculable and awful. --Colorado Banner. Miss COLW>'S, the conductor of Bof fin's Bower, a Boston charitable institu tion, says that out of*every hundred shop girls in that city, fifty live at home, and the rest in boarding houses. She thinks there are 30,000 girls employed in Bos ton shops in seventy different occupa tions. IF YOU LOVE MB. ST LUKLA CLABK. If yon love me, tell me aot; % That you say me yea and nay ; •J t me sec it in your eye * I en yon greet or j«ass me fej; j t me hear it in the tone for aud inc yon love me, there will be T W methlng only 1 shall see eet or miss, stay or po, yon love me, I shall know. r^yionwtttog in your tone will tejPr ' ; •' Dear, I love yon, love yon weU."| „ pomethlng in your eye3 will shiaa . t 't'airer that they look in mine. * ' v ' f*5! ?"*tn your mien gome touch of grac^,] tome swift smile upon your faoe *vhilo you fipeak not, will liotrajr your lips could scarcely say. • o't »> . In your speech some silver wonfe/»* Tuning into sweet accord . - All your bluntness will reveal Unaware, the love you feel. ! !*• • • If you love me, then, I pray, Tell me not, bnt, day by day, Let love silent on me rise, Like the sun in summer skies. --September Atlantic. 'i if- it*'-. Pith and Point. ̂ ̂ DAJW® of the pou^u-preeervers---*l3» can-can. WHAT is that which, by losing an EY& has only a nose left ? A noise. ' , THK Norwich Bulletin saysli„ woman who makes a practice of borrow ing a quart of milk usually makes a pint of returning itST , . BOATMAN--Going to have a sail ihi* morning, sir? Auctioneer (out fo?..p holiday)--Sale,? Confound yon fellow, don't be personal 1 1 WITEN a half a dozen people are TB dine upon a quarter of lamb,"what's the proper time for dinner ? Why, a quar ter before 6, of course. A YOUNG scapegrace, notorious for Ips pranks and practical jokes, who came of age the other day, awoke the family "aft midnight by loud cries of " Man in the house!" MUCH has been said of the enormotni consumption of tobacco, and yet you will be surprised to find how few men use it when your supply gives out and you ask for a chew: A BOSTON tailor advertises "diagonal boys' suits." Boston has some very queer boys, and we shouldn't wonder M there were a number of "diagonal* urchins among them.-- Norristoum Herald. Guess there are. Last time we were musing by the frog pond on the preternational acuteness of Boston dogs; we noticed several small boys cut by us. --Philadelia Bulletin. THIS note from a Chicago girl to her lover was made public through a law suit : " Dear Samie: Pap's water- millions is ripe. Come and bring some more poetry like you brought afore* My love for you will ever flow like water running down a tater row. Bring a piece as long as your arm, and have a heap more about them raving ringliUS and other sweat things. Come nex Sun day and don't fole me." THEY are taking evidenoe in a di\orae ca<je for cruelty ; the husband is under examination ; his wife, prostrated with grief, is weeping bitterly, covering hit face with her handkerchief. " Now," says the Judge, " are you not ashamed to have thus brutally treated your wife, a tender young woman of 25 ?" The wife suddenly raises her head, "I beg your pardon," she sobs, "24 only,* And she again gives way to her grief. THE remarks of the Captains of twp English vessels were the occasion of gentle smiles at the Custom House tfya other day. They were admiring tne Central Hall, and one of them pointin|f to the figure of Andrew Jackson, said i "Who is that?" "Jackson," was the answer. "Oh, yes," he replied," Stone wall Jackson." "No," said the other* "that's the Jackson that gave us h--*t down below here some years ago."-n New Orleans Bulletin. A SOCIAL economist of Austria has pre pared a table showing that there is an intimate relation in that country between crime and the plum and grape crops ; that when there is a large crop of either of these fruits from which brandy,is made, crime is especially prevalent. It's the same in this country, exsept that all' fruits, and especially melons, might bB included. The great prevalence of erima in good fruit years is mostly confined to* the boys, and it doesn't result from the. brandy either.--Free Press. CALIFORNIA poets are losing their grip Witness the following: POETRT-JIM OF JACKASS CANON. Drunk ? As a loon, sir: Drunk as an owl This afternoon, sir. Jack, you beast, howl! Jack in my dog. sir; a temperance enss; He's better than I am; no hog isn't woes. Oh, hoo ! Oh, hoo! Whilley, boo-hoo! Yes, sir, I loved her--poor bottle-eyed-Sne. She v,-arn't pretty to look at her; I'd bursted her nose. It was the poker I shook at her-- She come up too close. It mashed tip that feature, sir-- Turned it yailer and blue-- But that faithful creature, sir, Adhered to iae true. Under the hedge there, that's Suae.-- Bagged and barefoot, no bonnet, no shoes Gin'? No, sir; she don't like gin-- Spiles h»<r skin. Rum aud giuu is her go, sir; Oh, sir. How that gal loved me! My optics will Ml-- And sticks by me faithful, I gives her her swill. American Fabrics Abroad* An American manufacturer, now in England, writes home that "the un questioned superiority of American cot ton fabrics over English warrants the utUimpts by American weavers to intro duce their wares into the English home market. The wholesale jobbers and retailers of Glasgow, Edinburgh, Man chester, Liverpool, London, Belfast aud Dublin all expressed to mean opin ion favorable to our fabrics, and that they were the best to wear, while none placed them below the standard of the , English. Manchester has lost all the colonies on coarse cotton yarns used in domestic weaving with wool. American cotton and the American style of manu facturing command the entire market in these colonies for that article. A Glas- , gow jobber admitted the fact, and added that we were curtailing his orders for sheetings and shirtings in the Canadas and West Indies." This is Great Britain now, and the facts show that our ex ports o manufactured cottons have a , very strong foreign hold already. They are being introduced into Africa, Asia, and South America, too. {probably struck r&: I