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V^T I A " PAPA'S LEWI®. *« ,**»• iitUng ill the study, Writing letters, when I heard: ^ « Please, dear mamma. Bridget Wd 1M *,*« • Mamma musn't, foe "sturbed. _ »*•••«' ,i!r' .•s'l'tflBut I'm tired of the kitty; jvf,: <•<,>'- t# Want some ower ling to do. *.*,>. "j, Writing letters, is 'ou, mamrnaf* f * - • Y . „ Tan't I writ® • letter, too?" * Not now, darling. Mamma's bmy. j Ran and play with kitty now." * No, no, mamma. Me write iet̂ r. Tan If 'ou will show me how." ,rn ' vfowonld paint my darling's portrait _ ,- •.51 As his sweet eyes searched my taofr-- \ * * >' "««ir of gold and eymi of unto, * t" :'"^ftorm of childish, witching gnat. *» -T| lint the eager face was clouded I slowly shook my head, . f /». • «U11 said: '• 111 make a letter _ ^ -t?f# gOf yon, darling boy, instead." I parted back the tresses ^ From his forehead high and rtttt, » fc stamp in sport I pasted ' • * - "•«». S>llid its wares of golden lighV* iff-4 'fl- ' #hwn I said: " Now, little lette#^'^4"^ - .s>ij Go away and bear good news J™. , •* I ijnd I mailed as down «h« staircfib" « »»1^0lattered loud the little shoes.; ? • • • . J^aving me, the darling hurried. 1 1 '-.ifrfili®0*® *° BridKet»in hi8 Slee- £ iA " .tST * • l i M Mamma ' s wr i t i ng lo t s o f l e t t e* fc» : * I'as a letter. Bridget, see I" Ho one heard the little prattler, As once more he climbed the statfc ; • H' Beached his little cap and tippett • in, Wy* l ' . 'S* ' *l-' Standing on the entry chair. ."'•'V? } ; ' f d k L J2-' 'I"*?1!'-' f Ho one heard the front door opai, - ,-V" ,, No one saw the golden hair As it floated o'er his sbouhlen ; On the crssp October air. Down the street the baby hastened, Till he reached the office door. " IVf a letter, Mr. Postman, 1 Is there room for any more ? . . • " 'Cause dis letter's doin' to papa. Papa lives with God, 'ou know. llaaoma sent me for a letter. Does 'ou link that I tan go ?" But the clerk In wonder answered: " Not to-day, my little man." * Den 111 find anozzer office; • 'Cause I must go if I tan." Fain the clerk would have detained him J But the pleading face was gone, And the little feet were hastening, tnUf ' B,y1116 bUBy crowd swept on. 1 s > O * Suddenly the crowd was parted, . IT- •,), i ] People fled to left and right, f As a pair of maddened horses tf* »1> that moment dashed in sight. «/rJ? No one saw the baby figure. No one saw the golden hair. Till a voice of frightened sweetness Bang out on the autumn air. Twa» too late I A moment only - b ••!»"! • Stood the beauteous vision there; f nJ, jjjrhen the little face lay lifelese, ' " ' Covered o'er with golden hair. Reverent they raised my darling, v Brushed away the curis of goto, Saw the stamp upon the forehead, Growing now so icy cold. Not a mark the face disfigured, Showing where a hoof had trod; But the little life was ended-- " Papa's letter" was with God. --Tk$ Pacific Baptist. 4 FLAT ROMANCE. It was in a French-flat house--not one of those large, imposing structures, Sve or six siorieE high, where every suite of apartments consisted of a par­ lor, a sitting-room, a good-sized bed­ room which opens into a smaller, which opens into a smallest, a comfortable airy dining-room, a well-lighted library, and one or two other rooms, but a rattier shabby three-story dwelling that had been remodeled in ambitious rivalry of its more palatial neighbors, and on each floor of which there was a parlor, but no Sitting-room, a smaller and smallest, but no good-sized bedroom, a dining-room as large as a respectable closet, a kitchen the size of a closet not quite so respectable, and no other rooms--that the following correspondence took place. It was commenced by the third floor, who staid out late nights, and lay abed late mornings, on the afternoon of April 1, 1876, and lasted just five days--the bar­ ber's boy, who came at breakfast-time, and the grocer's boy, who called about dinner-time, in consideration of slight pecuniary rewards, acting as postmen. " MADAM--Though exceedingly reluc­ tant to make any complaint in regard to those who reside under the same roof as myself, I am absolutely obliged in the present instance to do so. Unfortu­ nately my; business compels me to work during the better part of the night, and in consequence I am forced to make up for the rest denied me at the proper season by sleeping during the early part of the day. This I was able to do until & month' ago, when your family took possession of the second floor. Since then I have tried in vain to slumber, or, if I succeeded in crossing the portals of the Land of Nod, my sleep was a sleep luumted by dreadful dreams of war and rumors of war, and thunder-storms, and earthquakes, and thinks of like nature, in oonsequence of loud stampings, strange skurryings, and shrill repetitions of the words, ' one, two, three,' or ' one, two, three, /ouror 'one, two, three, four, five' or 'one, two, three, Sour, five, six,' to say nothing of occasional shrieks of wild laughter that have »riaen from the apartment below me every morning between the hours of 8 find 9. " I f the annoyance cannot be done away with, my aunt (who, happily for herself in this case, is deaf) and myself must seek other quarters, which we would be most loath to do, as this floor, which we have occupied for nearly a year, suited us--or perhaps I should say suited we--exactly until the mysterious performances of which I have written commenced in the second story. "With respect, "ELBEBT MuiiDKKW." "Sm--I am extremely sorry that the •tamping, and one, two, freeing, and lour-^weing, and five-sizing, and wild shrieking, and apparent skirmishing, have disturbed your aunt (beg pardon-- I forgot the old lady was ' happily deaf I meant to have said you) so much; but I fear it will be impossible for 'some time to oome to do away with 4 the an­ noyance.' And really, sir, to tell the honest truth, I don't think your health will suffer any more from your inter­ rupted slumbers between the hours of 8 and 9 a. m. than mine from my loss of sleep between the earlier hours of 1 and 3--the hours that have heretofore been tp Hie the sweetest hours of repose. "MABEL NELSON." '* MADAM--I fail to understand your insinuation about your 'loss of sleep.' Pray in what way do I interfere with * the sweetest hours of repose' mentioned so pathetically in your note ? "Respectfully, E. M." BIB--I may be mistaken; perhaps it is your aged aunt, whom you consider so blessed iu being deaf, and who, I un- herstand, is the only occupant of the third floor besides yourself, who stum­ bles--excuse the expression--up stairs very often at the time named, some­ times singing snatches of melancholy songs, especially * I'm leaving thee in sorrow, Annie/ and' It may be for years, Md it may be forever,' and, sometimes uttering the most dismal groans and heart-rending sighs, and who, after reaching the room above mine, flings her boots down, one after the other, with two tremendous thumps right ov«r my head. M. N." " DKAB MTNTW--If yon but knew the cause of these miserable attempts at song, and * dismal groans,'and 4 heart- rending sighs/ I am sure your womanly heart would prompt you to sympathy in­ stead of sarcasm. "Yours truly, ELBKBTMULDBIEW.*' " DEAR SIR--If you were but aware of the very sufficient reason I could give you for the stamping and shouting and counting--that is, if you only knew why it was necessary that they should go on --I think your manly nature would come to my defense,, and enable you to firmly resolve to sleep through the noise, or at least bear it a little more patiently. And, though a total stranger to you, some not-to-be-resisted impulse impels me to tell you 1 why.' Besides which, I really don't want you and your aunt to think me unladylike and disobliging, and I wouldn't for the world drive yon and your aunt away from the place you have lived in in comfort until my family became the tenants of the second flat. ^ " I am a poor, a very poor, girl, with one talent, which some good, far-seeing fairy must have bestowed upon me at my birth, the last one I, with human in­ capacity for peering into the future, should have chosen, if I had been capable of choosing for myself. I dance well, and have also, they tell me, a great gift at inventing pretty figures, and arrang­ ing tableaux to be introduced in fairy spectacles and performances of like nar tare. "Hie wife of my father's last em­ ployer (poor father f he was an excel­ lent book-keeper, but, having had a great deal of trouble with his eyes, is now nearly helpless), hearing of wis one ac­ complishment of mine, and knowing that the support of the household would devolve almost entirely upon me, kindly interested herself in my behalf, and, thanks to her, I have and have had a great deal to do in the way of assisting at amateur theatricals and children's festivities. " And one of the consequences of this pleasant occupation is that I have sev­ eral little pupils in training for the great ball scene in the grand extravaganza of ' Cinderella; or, the Glass Slipper,' which is to be produced at the house of my principal patroness two weeks from to-day. They come to me every morn­ ing, between the hours of 8 and 9, as you unfortunately know too well, that being the most convenient time for both them and me. " Little pupils will stamp, will skir­ mish, will indulge in extra steps, will laugh, will shriek, will join in a chorus of one, two, threeing, etc.; but little pupils give me and my old father and my young sister bread. " Respectfully yours, " MABEL NELSON." "T>*AB MISS NELSON--Shout, danoe, and laugh as much as you please--that is, let the little ones do so. I wish I were a pupil myself. It must be rather jolly ushering in the day with a merry dance. I'll change rooms with my aunt, who, being almost as hard of hear­ ing as the old lady who, at the fifth or sixth tremendous round of cannon near her residence, became dimly impressed with the idea that somebody was knock­ ing at the door, and, looking placidly over her knitting, feebly called out, ' Gome in/ would never find out there was a damcing-class in the room below. " Do forgive me for my bearishness to you. I am heartily ashamed of it--I am, upon my word. Your charming confidence reproved and delighted me, and I feel impelled, by the same mys­ terious influence of which you speak, to give you mine in return. " I am a humble compositor, and still humbler occasional scribbler on a daily paper; a lonely sort of fellow, with no father or mother, no sister or brothers --no relatives, in fact, but the aged aunt to whom several references have already been made, and who is, God bless her ! one of the most kind-hearted and affec­ tionate creatures in the world, besides being a tip-top housekeeper and excel­ lent cook. " Some twelve or thirteen months ago a shadow fell upon my life, and, like many other foolish young fellows upon whose lives shadows have fallen, I once in a while stumble up stairs singing lugubrious songs at inappropriate hours. Of course you will guess at once that this shadow was a disappointment in love. It was, and being above all things constant in my nature, I cannot dispel it. Often, when coming home tired and heart-weary, I think of the dream I used to cherish a little over a year ago--a dream of a bright face that might ere long greet me when I returned from my labor, a sweet voice that would tenderly welcome me, a loving and devoted wife who would be the joy and sunshine of my life--and [ suppose I do unconscious­ ly sigh and groan. But since in so do­ ing I disturb you, I will keep watch and guard over myself, and do so no more. " Truly yours, ELBERT MTTLDREW." " MY DKAB SDR--I beg of you not to repress the sighs and groans on my ac­ count. Heaven forbid that I should be so selfish as to find fault with them if they afford any relief to your over­ charged heart "A silent sorrow is the most danger­ ous. While we can indulge in audible regrets there is still hope for us. Believe me when I say you have my heartiest sympathy. But don't you think you yield too readily to the influence of a shadow ? Were I a man, I should defy shadows; as I am only a girl, I laugh at them. But then, again, I've had no par­ allel experience to yours. With the ex­ ception of my father's misfortune, no great grief has fallen to my lot, my mother having died when I was too young to miss her; but I think that once lju8t escaped one. "Don't change your sleeping-room. I received my scholars in mine because there was a fire there--id future IU take them into the parlor. " Respectfully yours, " MA BUTT. NELSON." " DEAB Miss NELSON--I shall change it. Don't fly to the parlor. If you do, you will be obliged to have a firo there, and coal is dear. " So you have been near a great sor­ row. May I tell you about mine ? " Yery truly yours, E. M." " MY DKAB SIB--You may. M. N." " Mx DEAR MISS NEMOST--A year and seven months ago I was employed in a publishing house in a Western city, and my way to my place of business lay through a secluded street completely shaded by the wide-spreading branches of splendid old trees. Looking up this street, it seemed to end in a lovely green bower, and eut of this bower came walk­ ing toward me one bright morning--the birds were chirping merrily, and the leaves rustlingt^leasantly--tiie prettiest girl I ever saw in my life. " She had FLAOHIWG Btee),-blue eyes, the most delicate oomplexion, short, loose golden ourls, exquisite nose and mouth, and a springy, graceful step. But I won't dwell spon her manifold loveli­ ness, for, young as I am, I have already learned that, no matter how kind and good a woman may be, she scarcely ever takes any interest in a man's enthusiastic description of the beauty of a member of her own sex. Suffice it to say that the moment my eyes fell upon her I said, with C+eraint (Geraintof 'The Idyls of the King,'which I hope you have read and liked), "' Here by God's rood is the one maid for me.' " Well, almost every morning, for a month after that, at the same hour we met--when we didn't, I assure you I was blue enough for the rest of the day; and in a week or two more she began, to blush prettily, then to smile faintly, then to smile more brightly; then I took courage and raised my hat to her, and she responded with a shy little nod, and then I offered her some flowers, which she took with a murmured ' thanka' as she sped hastily away. "But I was beginning to despair of ever becoming acquainted with her, when one morning, as she emerged from the bower, an old friend and fellow-crafts­ man of mine, whom I had not seen for a long while, came suddenly around the nearest corner, started in surprise on be­ holding me, and then grasped me hearti­ ly by the hand. "Much as I like him--for he is a real good fellow--I wished from the bottom of my heart that he had postponed his appearance for a few moments, until I saw him bowing with a pleased smile of recognition to the pretty fair-haired girl. "'Ill see you again, old boy, he said, starting to join her as she passed; but I held him fast. I feared to let the opportunity slip. " ' See her again ?' said I, entreating- ly. ' Who is she ?' "He looked a t me a momen t , a s though he thought I had suddenly gone daft, and then quietly replied, 'A friend of my sister. Lovely girl, isn't she ?' " * Angelic,' said I. ' Will you intro­ duce me ?' " ' With her permission, most willing­ ly.' "' When ? Let it be soon, very soon, and I'll owe you a debt of gratitude that I never shall forget the remainder of my life.' "' You're hit hard,' said he, smiling. ' I'll call for you in the evening;' and we parted. "I seemed to be treading on air the rest of my journey, and everything I beheld appeared to be endowed with new beauty and sweetness; the sun nev­ er shone so brightly; the birds never sung so cheerily; the trees never looked so green. "Work? Bless you, Miss Nelson, I couldn't---I was too happy. ' Give me a half holiday, and I'll make it up to­ morrow,' said I to the chief. He pushed up his spectacles and looked at me in­ quiringly--it was the first time I'd asked such a favor--and then granted it. "I wandered about, the.whole after­ noon, in a sort of blissful dream, and full two hours before I expected my friend, went home to make ready for the promised interview. Never before had I been so hard to suit on the subject of cravats. I tried and rejected three--a black, a brown, and a crimson--and then went out and bought a lavender (the last color in the world I should have worn), because I remembered that was the color of the ribbon on her hat. I was putting on my gloves for the fiftieth time when Tom arrived, and, treating with scorn his proposition to have a smoke, I hurried him to the door and out into the street. "\ "When I found myself in Hie same room with her, I could scarcely believe in my happiness; yet there she sat be­ fore me, my friend's sister holding one of her pretty hands, and worshiping tier as very young girls often 'worship other girls a little older and much more beau­ tiful than themselves. "Miss Nelson, she was charming-- her voice low and sweet, and her laugh like rippling water. You know how often the charm of a sweet face is dis­ pelled by a discordant voiee and harsh laugh. When she talked and laughed, her face was sweeter than ever. And when I bade her 'good-night/ promis­ ing--the old excuse--to bring her, in a couple of days, a book of which I had been speaking, and which she had ex­ pressed a wish to read, I was more in love than ever. " In just two days afterward--it had seemed like two months to me--book in hand, I presented myself at her door, and in answer to my ring an old woman appeared , who informed me, in an apa­ thetic way, that 'the folks had gone, they had/ " ' Gone! impossible !' I exclaimed. " ' To Chicago,' she continued, in the same exasperating tone. ' His brother was a-dying, and sent a telegraph for him and her.' " < Him and her,' I repeated, impa­ tiently. ' Whom do you mean ?' "' Why, the father and the young girl.' "' But they will return ?' " ' No, they won't. They took what they wanted with them, and left the rest here in payment for some rent they owed me. You wouldn't be wanting a cook-stove or some flat-irons, would you?' "' Haven't you their address?' " 'No, I hain't; they went in such a hurry, and it wasn't any use to me--Or a kitchen-table with a drawer ?' " Perfectly bewildered and awfully disappointed, I turned away. " 'Or a c lo thes -wr inge r a lmos t a s good as new ?' called the old woman af­ ter me as I descended the steps. " That night I didn't sleep at all, and the next morning, as I took my ac­ customed route to tne office, the sun­ shine seemed faded, the street dreary, the song of the birds complaining and sad. " I oouldnt stand il After a few days I gave up my position and started for Chicago. I had nothing but her name to guide me, and. of course, I did­ n't find her. Then I fancied I had discovered a slight clew, and has­ tened to a neighboring city. A letter from my friend followed me there, in which he stated that she was in Mew York, at a certain address, which he in­ closed. I never stopped, day or night, after receiving the infoamrtion, until I arrived in New York. I reached the city at midnight. Early next morning I sought the house to which I had beeh directed. The sour-faced landlady told me 'they'd left the night before, and she knew nothing about them.' I suspect she must have had some ^gly daughters. " My old aunt, whom I had not seen since I was a little boy, I found in an 'old ladies' home/ She joyfully con­ sented to leave, and oome and keep house for me. A year nas nearly passed away, and still no trace of her. I al­ most begin to despair of ever seeing her bright face or hearing her sweet voice again. But I am true to her memory. You may smile, Miss Nelson, but I am in solemn earnest when I declare I shall never love again. Wherever Ethel Brow- er is, my heart is with her. " Most sincerely yours, " ELBEBT MUM>BBW. "My aunt talks of calling on you." "MY DEAB MB. MULDBBW--I cannot tell yon how much, how very much I was interested in your story, which, by the strangest coincidence, forcibly re­ calls the period of my life when, for a little while, a cloud hovered near me. The similarity of our experiences strikes me as being so wonderful, that I hasten to recount mine, that you may share in my wonder. , " About a year and a half ago I re­ sided in a Western city,and almost every morning went to take lessons from an old Frenoh dancing-master, a dear old man, who, finding the number of his scholars increasing very rapidly, con­ templated making me his assistant--a position I looked forward to with eager­ ness, as my father's eyesight had already begun to fail. Well, whenever I wended my way through a tree-shaded street-- precisely like that you so graphically described in your last letter--to the residence of Monsieur Berant, I met a handsome young man, one of the hand­ somest I have ever seen. He had large honest eyes, dark wavy hair, and a cer­ tain sweet expression of face, not com­ mon among men, which led all vagrant dogs and other vagrants to approach him without fear. He was well formed; not tall; rather short, in fact; had-- But IU not bore you with a full description; for, inexperienced as 1 am, I have dis­ covered that men, as a general thing, do not listen patiently to a woman's praise of the personal appearance of a man. After meeting him two or three times, I oould not lielp becoming conscious of the glance of respectful admiration with which he regarded me. This look of re­ spectful admiration continued for a month; then he greeted my appearance with a smile; then, in the most gallant way, raised his hat as I passed; then offered me courteously a fragrant, bou­ quet (I have the flowers still--faded,, but sweet); and at last one lovely September morning was about to present me, I am sure, with a lovely basket filled with fruit, when a friend of mine, who also proved, to my great surprise, to be a friend of his, appeared on the scene, and I left the rosy-cheeked peaches and lus­ cious grapes behind me. " Later in the day I met' our mutual friend' again, and ne was loud in the praises of the young man with the frank gray eyes, confirming in the most em­ phatic manner my own impressions as to his goodness and wortn, and ending by asking permission to introduce him--a request that I granted, I will confess, with pleasure. " That very evening they presented themselves--' our mutual friend's sister, a sweet, loving little thing, having spent the afternoon and taken tea with me-- and a right merry happy time we four young people had, and when we parted it was with many promises to meet again. "But, alas, we never met again. That night, soon after they had left, my father was sumaaoaed to the death-bed of his only brother, and at dawn we started for Chicago, leaving, as I afterwards discov­ ered, Monsieur Berant inconsolable for the loss of his assistant. From Chioago we went to a neighboring city to meet my sister, who had been paying a long visit to an old friend; and from there we all three came to New York, my father wishing to consult a celebrated oculist resident here, and here we have been ever since. " Now, don't you see, Mr. Muldrew, that if we had not been called away as suddenly as we were, I might•--I write thus freely to you because you have been so frank with me--have become very much attached to the gray-eyed, dark-haired young man; and then, when at last obliged to separate from him, as I surely would have been, on account of the Now York oculist, how great a sor­ row would have been mine! "As it was, my heart was only lightly touched--at least not deeply wounded enough to embitter my life, and render me unfit for the funny little parts that invariably fall to me in the amateur the­ atricals. Besides which, I have always had an idea that at some totally unex­ pected time I should meet Charles Lang again. In fact, I'm sure I shall. " Very sincerely yours, " MABEL NELSON. "P. S.--Your aunt will be most cor­ dially welcomed." Down stairs in a hurry flew the third floor--he had taken to getting up early since the correspondence commenced-- after reading this last note, and the sec­ ond evidently expected him, for she opened the door instantly when he knocked, and swept him a dancing- school courtesy with a half-shy, half- mischievous look on her pretty face. There stood the class of little pupils, prepared to stamp, shout, count, and shriek; there sat the old father, peering from under his shaggy eye-brows at the new-comer, but the bright-faced young fellow caught the little toil-worn hand held out to him, and pressed it to his lips in real old-fashioned lover style. "And Mabel Nelson ?"he said. "My nom de theater. And Elbert Muldrew ?" Wi " Mj nom de plume."--Harper's How to Hake a Well. ifo. J. W. Pinkham has a paper#® Wells and Cisterns," in Scribner for September, with plans showing how taey are eontaminated and how they Baould be constructed. He says of wells: , First, of oourse, the well must he so con­ structed that^ it cannot act as a drain for the neighboring soil. This can be done by making the wall above low-water mark of some material impervious to water, or by omitting this part of the wall altogether. The first can be accom­ plished by having the wall from a point two or three feet from bottom suicS© of brick with a coating of hydraulic cement on its exterior, or of hydraulic well-tubing with the joinings well pro­ tected with cement; in either ease the earth should be thoroughly packed around the Wall, and a slight embank­ ment should be made arotmd the orifice to prevent the in-flow of surface or storm water. In such a well the draining Burface is so reduced, and placed at such a dis­ tance below the surface of the ground that in the great majority of the in­ stances the introduction of foreign mat­ ter becomes impossible, except in so far as there is a chance that substances will fall into the well from above. To pre­ vent this the well should be kept covered when not in use. In most cases, how­ ever, it is better to omit the upper part of the wall altogether. After the exca­ vation is completed, the wall can be built in the usual manner for a distance of two or three feet, more or less, as cir­ cumstances may demand; the service pipe can then be placed in position, and the well arched over. The remainder of the excavation can then be filled with earth, well packed as it is thrown in, and the pipe carried to any convenient point. It will be necessary to place above the arch several layerB of stones successively smaller to prevent the fall­ ing of earth into the space below. The workmen will probably suggest a layer of turf or straw to accomplish this object, but the presence of either of these substances will cause the water to be unpleasant for a considerable time, and will prove the cause of much an­ noyance. There is a prevalent notion that a well should be ventilated for the purpose of allowing noxious gases to escape ; and that water is better for being exposed to the air. I hardly need state that the only noxious gases in a well (i. e., gases which render the water unwholesome) are the products of the decomposition of organic matter which has found its way into the well in ways which have been described above, and that water as in its subterranean passages is more perfectly aerated than it can be in any otner way. •THK 8WSKTEST NAME. Ami name at Bother! sweetest mow ! " j rf'. _That erar fell on mortal ear! f | *•%, XheloTe of mother! Mightiest love " f 1 Wnioh Heaven penults to flourish htA JMaaect * mother's heart and r* o The propertiM it doth contain-- iij? 7f love. wh*t geuis of hope*-- A mother 1 heart beats on in vain. "? An AwfUl Night. I passed a night once away from home. What I learned that night would fill a very large barrel. I had retired and was endeavoring to tan­ gle myself up in sleep, when a most in­ describable boquet of sounds stole into my room and entwined itself about my ears. It was the first strains of a cat- fight. I got out of bed and opened my mouth and dropped a " Scat!" out of the window. The yowling increastnl. I added a pair of $10 boots to, the affair; a boot-jack followed the Abbots, but the noise continued with more zeal if possi- sible than ever. My contribution was not the only one; from other windows a continuous fire was kept up; bottles, boots, shoes, slippers, and every avail­ able article that could be preached was shied into the darkness alt the noise. Occasionally a more terrific yell would seem to indicate that the objective point had been reached, but still the yelling continued with unabating ardor. At last I bethought me of a dark-lan­ tern I had, and, lighting it, I turned the light down into the back yard, in the di­ rection of the noise. What I saw I can tell about, but how I felt and looked would need a larger pen than mine to de­ scribe. To say that my hair stood up would be very tame. It not only stood up, but it fairly lifted me from the floor. I saw hanging from the clothesline a couple of Tom-cats, tied together by the tails, and engaged with all their might in tearing each other apart, while in the yard was a man with a bag, into which he was putting my boots, boot-jack and other contributions, making for him a fair night's work, and, after gathering up all the spoils, as he unslung the cats from the line and placed them in the bag and scaled the fence, it dawned up­ on me that I had been sold. I blew out my light and crept into bed, wondering if my angel grandfather was not smil­ ing from beyond the clouds at his grand­ child.--Boston Globe. Jewelry Fashions. In jewelry the newest designs for pins are long bars of gold or onyx set with diamonds, for scarf-pins or to be worn at the neck. Some of the handsomest de­ signs shown at Tiffany's have onyx bars two inches long, from which the diamonds are hung as if they were slid on a gold bar resting on the onyx. Some of these pins are in such designs as lizards in- crusted with diamonds, or long arrows barbed with diamonds, and a large dia­ mond set near the tip. In ear-rings the designs are equally rich and unique. Arrows of gold, with the diamond set above the center, the diamond on a screw which passes through the ear, and the arrow is thus held in place; some of these arrows have large turquoises in the place of diamonds; they are very handsome, but not as beautiful as the ear-rings in the shape of small half- wreaths, the diamonds set in tiny leaves of gold. The two ends of the wreaths fasten by a spring, so that they look as if they hung through the ear; these are exceecUngly graceful, and are imitated in pearls; in both cases the jewels swing free from the main setting, shaking and glittering with every motion of the wearer. Diamond aigrettes, or less- costly imitations, are worn with the feather aigrette set above them.--New York Evening Post. THE Pennsylvania Railroad Company is preparing a complete record of the tramps killed or injured on their line since the tramp business began, to in­ clude names of all the unfortunates as far as they can be determined. S!he words of mother! when they flow , 'ov,e • tf®* rhetoric from her lips, The meteor stars of sin and shame -_ ̂ Ar<-lost amid a bright eclipse* " r-T-.i. And when we walk the glittering oath Wherein temptations oft we see, O, then we realize how strong The power of mother'* lorecan be. " - A mother's love I It never wanes • *'* " ̂ ̂ f *" What If her boy an ingrate seems? Xhe beauty of that wondroos love Around the thankleaa offspring lumia Though in the path of shame he walkii Though crime hath driven him to the fcewL -A mother's care can yet avail--< - A mother's prayers may win his soul, , "What heart like mother's can forgive The peccadilloes of our youth ? What hand like her's can lead lis back ̂ From sin to innooenoe and truth? O, name of mother! sweetest nana • That ever fell on mortal ear; O. love of mother! Mightiest love . That Heaven allows to flourish here. PTEH AND POINT. - . ' - i i l l " • A HOME ruler--The kitchen poker. IF you have failed at everything else, go to Turkey and be a Pasha. A CONSCIENCE void of offense is a good thing, but a farm void of a fence is quite another matter. A BOSTON dealer in weathercocks has amassed a fortune. Who says nothing has been made in vane ? IF a lady gives a gentleman the the proceeding may be regarded as a slight-of-hand performance. •" GIVE the tramps no quarter.--New York Herald. We don't. We seldom give them over 5 cents.--Norristown Herald. WHEN a man fools with stocks, he generally gets his foot in it. In the old times they had stocks that people some­ times got both feet into. IT tries a man's patience and faith iu human nature most sorely to buy a coal* stove, and then see all his neighbors lay in a lot of wood for the winter.--Hawk* Eye. SOME one says old maids go by the name of " wilted lilies " now. Probably because, years ago, when certain young men asked them, "Wilt thou?" they wilted not. PATEBFAMIMAS--" To-morrow is the tutor's birthday; now what can I get him for a birthday present ?" Charley-- " Get him a muzzle, papa; he's always biting the governess'cheek." THEY were at a dinner party, and he remarked that he supposed she was fond of ethnology. She said she was, but she was not very well, and the doctor had told her not to eat anything for dessert except oranges. " Do YOU know where I can get room to store a load of salt?" asked a coun­ tryman of a Boston clerk. "Perhapd my father can accommodate you," was the reply. " He has plentv of salt rheum on his hands." THE proprietor of a forge not remark­ able for correctness of language, but who, by honest industry had realized a comfortable independence, being called on at a social meeting for a toast, gave» " Success to forgery." HAIB-PINS.--The Norristown Herald man says : "A reformer writes against hair-pins, but, as long as hair-pins are so much more convenient than forks for picking out walnuts and shellbark ker­ nels, the women will not discard them." WHEN you see a dying fly come out of the butter and go crawling over the ta­ ble-cloth with a disgusted look on its expressive countenance, you can bet your sesterces that you have been paying 36 cents a pound for oleomargarine.-- Hawk-Eye. AN old carkey, fishing on the wharf, was heard talking to the fish he saw swimming around his line, in this fash* ion : " Gim me a bite, honey. De chil­ dren am a-crying down to my house, and I tell you it's fish or nuffin' in dat 'stab^ lishment." AT a duel the parties discharged their pistols without effect, whereupon one of the seconds interfered, and proposed that the combatants should shake handf. To this the other second objected as un­ necessary, "for,"said he "theirhands have been shaking this half hour." Six HUNDRED MILLION DOLLABS are annually spent in the United States for drink. How many delinquent newspiw per subscriptions does this sum contaiii? It is heartless to spend in the madden­ ing cup what you owe the printer. He may be thirsty himself.--CatakiU Re­ corder. AUNT EMILY--"Why, Nellie, don't you know it is unkind to catch hold of your sister and pull her hair ?" Nellie (who doesn't see if)--"Well, auntie, I saw you holding Cousin Frank round the neck quite tightly yesterday when mamma was out, and pulling his hair, and he didn't say anything." OLD gentleman (examining what he believes to be a war map)--" Although I can trace the route of the Russians in their last movements, I do wish the^ would make these war maps a little plainer." Daughter--"Why, father, that's my Bazar pattern paper you have got hold of."--Harper's Weekly. A LITTLE boy was noticed standing on the sidewalk on Main street, this morn­ ing, and crying bitterly. "What's the matter, sonny?" "Matter? Matter enough, I should say ! Dad's got bust­ ed on stocks, mother's got the newraljy so bad she couldn't cook breakfast, sis­ ter's run off with a bull whacker, baby's swallowed my top, and I've got a short bit so far down this here crack in the sidewalk that a feller with sixteen eyes in his head couldn't see one edge of it. That's what's the matter." -- Austin (Xev.) lieveills. AT a Harrison oounty, Ky., wedding, we are informed, the bride danced sev­ eral charming reels within a circle of three feet in diameter. She changed shoes once on account of her new ones not sounding right against the floo». The prompter gave the very unique com­ mands during the dance, " Rock to the right, rock to the left, grind coffee, wring the dish-rag, rock the cradle," etc. At the wind-up of the dance the bride showed her agility by kicking the groom's hat off his head. *