mnw MAIbGMS SBOIJLO I4DTX. ; .lypn 'i'iv-v-,? MOM' nga •»•••. <»******# . rtyrlng llini pmmm fleetly, •nlrt«Mli< 1 - Spnng-thne p--sr "• flatly. ( lBOUvfili|thome, ever thm so boldly, II - wry teat the time should ootne . :•. ~ - trustshallcheat yon 0D>%1 to 1st youth* giddy toon WUe to over-fond believing, with OMI and faded lawn hia garlands still ia wearing. 8prfng-tlme passes fleetly, gpring-tiini! passes fleettjy •tSkm the years away, , on eager pinions pr _ i watch, and aa their prey, •natch from u» aach choioest blessing. H« bloom, tnai bnt a day endnrea, 4 .jpf troth like thla gm ever warning, HSeveiJing's chilling Might obscures §*he char»s that opened with the morning. Spring-time paaaea fleetly, maidena, Spring-time passes fleetly w heed lest, when your fancies t dawning** chimes they hear the gre«ttn(, • other call life's p*«l should i And warn of night, and time's then, bereft of beauty's glow, Last your gentleneaa and graces, Hgtnr winning charms no more shall sho# 1 themselves aa first in all our plaoes. Spring-tune paaaea fleetly, maid«|% Spring-time passes fleetly. to aged dame I'w known, whose face v- Once was sweetly soft and blooming, Though now 'twere hard such eharms Through coat of false enamel looming, te iter pami-ea cheeks ana wow, O'er which love's smile no longer twinklea, like bishop's surplice now, ckered into folds and wrinkles. Spring-time passes fleetly, m Spring-time paaaea fleetly. And yet another dame I know, Who had but one sole tooth remaining, And saw it Bink, some daya ago,. > ynthin a posset she war draining.' Then, wailing, thug she cried--Oh, tooth! - That long my soul haa loved to cheriah, A pearl I knew thee in thy youth, A worthless wall I eee thee perish. Spring-time passes fleetly, maidens, Spring-time passes fleetly. Ats lesson, hence, fond maids, unfold, That, ere cold, niggard age bereave yoa Of all your locks of ruddy gold, And but the pearl's gray luster leave you, H« yours to seek while you are sought, And love while you axe ripe for wooing, luck's bald hind-head set at naught The dutch of fools too late pursuing. Spring-time passes fleetly, maidens, Spring-time passes fleetly. •T OWH HAKE. Mr. Robert Edward Bommelaine pushed back his morocco-lined arm-chair .* tram his comfortable breakfast-table and opened the morning newspaper. He read the editorials, studied care fully a column of commercial quotations, i; mailed the 44 Cleared " and " Arrived " of tibe Marine Intelligence, and, turning . took the sheet, proceeded leisurely to investigate the miscellaneous items. Suddenly his eye became fixed -with an expression of astonishment; the color I flashed to his cheeks. He read quickly, -'with an absorbed air, the paragraph whose first sentence had aroused him. ..The expression of astonishment gave ^ place to one of keen pain. He re-read " the paragraph slowly, and, sighing deep ly, folded the paper across his knees. " My own name!" he said. i The ejaculation was made aloud, but j no ear recorded it, Simon. Hue antiqii»t- •ed butler, had brushed away the crumbs, and had placed upon a dainty porcelain "tray before Mr. Rommelaine the bright i 'IM apple that invariably concluded his • morning repast; then disappeared. And there was no guest at the table. For two months, indeed, and more the ttoeiable long oval had been drawn to round and laid for solitude. This con tortion marked the absence of Mrs. * Bommelaine, Mrs. Bommelaine's moth er Mr. Bommelaine's mother, the five Misses Bommelaine, and Robert Edward iBommelaine, Junior, the pride of the - ihouaehold heart. ; "My own name !** Mr. Bommelaine ^ repeated, reading for the third time the ^paragraph that had caused him to feel astonishment and pain. When, after due interval, Simon re tained to the dining-room, he found the taed apple untouched. He lifted it scru- •iiaiangly, rubbed it on his coat-sleeve "to be sure if it could have been suscepti ve of one glimmer more of polish, and 4k« put it ruefully into his own pocket. "What "as appened to maister?*' was "the aeutal reflection of this philoeqphi ml personage. u the meantime Mr. Bommelaine, wrifcbout any of the leisurely prelimina ries that usually marked his departure, ihad left his house, and was hastening "'down town " by an nnfamiliar route5 toward a quarter of the city quite re- aorod from business streets, and filled 'with dingy habitations. He studied the. ^ iuttall signs visible at tho street corners, ^ I presently, .alighting from the avenue L. • 'Tar, turned into the dingiest of these dis mal by ways. Walking slowly, and ob- '®9ffvant of every house that he passed, lie sreached at last a small, old-fashioned domicile standing in a courtyard; penned « between two towering tenement- feoases of the modem type. There he paused. ""And here it is." His faoe actually ftashed with chagrin as this conclusion %as made; flushed again when, having passed through the rickety gate, up the amgy little court, he asked of a ragged loiterer in the open doorway, " Is Mrs. Jtabert Edward Bommelaine within ?" ^ ^Second floor front," answered the "••Bger, removing the pip© from his vwouth, and nonchalantly puffing a whiff nsk tobacco into the inquirer's face. "** Walk right up. There's been plenty «auaqji to see her sinoe the night «f Mr, Bommelaine had walked right up. Vwxxst the head of the stairs a narrow pas sage led to the door of second floor front. • 'Oosed as this door was, it could not the presence of misery within. 1 came the sound of a woman's moan heavy sighs, and a child's voice: ** CI7 BO, dear momma | oh, don't «rao, dear mamma!" , But when Mr. Bommelaine knocked *U became still. He waited, and knocked •gain. No sound. Five minutes of «S©iice passed, and then he turned the door-knob deliberately, and, finding the •door unlocked, entered the room. A woman knelt beside a bed, with her laoe hidden in her hands. A little girl, standing by her side and clinging to her, tamed with alarm toward Mr. Bom- :BMslftine. The place they occupied was poverty-stricken in the extreme. "You must not hart my mamma," asfd die child. She added, as she saw folly in his face, "You will not hurt •dear mamma; she is ill." The woman, whose moans had sud denly ceased, did not stir, and Mr Bom melaine, approaching her, Wok the lit tle girl's trusting hand. " I have come to help her," he said. m X have come to make her well. Bouse Mis. BommelsuM," He did not for one moment hesitate to decide the identic al the object of his search. But, when the young woman with difficulty arose and staggered to a chair, and owed helplessly with haggard eyes upon her guert, he had but one thought, and that thought audibly crossed his hps in the same tone of won der and pain as in hia solitude that morn ing--"My own name." The woman looked at him with a weary apathy; her lips meonanically framed a question, "What do you know of it?" she asked. "Ikiiow everything of it," Mr. Bom melaine answered. 44I know that he is charged with the gravest crime that man can commit against man; I know that he haa been torn away from you and cast into prison. But I know that he is in nocent" He paused a moment; the name in full crossed his mind -Robert w»wj Bommelaine. "Tm," he con tinued, very earnestly, 44 he is innocent. It is impossible that it should be other wise. His innocence must be proved." Half an hour later a carriage ordered to the door received three occupants.' "To the City Prison," was the direction given to the driver, and thither they drove in silence toward the wretched owner of a valued name, who «*11 thai day, as all the night before, paced his nar row cell in the misery of imprisonment, goaded by every passionate grief that can overtake a man when pursuit is in evitable and flight impossible. It was one of those days that some times occur in late January, when, with snow still lying on the ground, the air seems full of spring. The busy streets of the great city, in the sudden thaw that followed unprecedented "good sleigh ing," were almost impassable. Foot passengers were ankle-deep in the flood, and their clothes were bespattered by the horses that slipped and stumbled through the mire. Overhead the weather was glorious; underfoot nothing could be more inglorious than the effect of the unseasonable warmth. Th© con trasts that the day assumed were mental as well as physical. It was the sort of day that makes labor irksome, that tempts vagrancy, and repudiates rou tine. Frank Thurston, a studious young lawyer, became unaccountably restless abeut noon that day. He left his com panions bending over their desks, and, opening tne window of an outer office, one of two or three used especially for consultation, he drew a chair to the window and gazed out. The opening was only upon a court, but a break in height between opposite buildings gave a generous space of sky. Across this sky, tenderly blue as April's own, float ed a few light clouds. Frank Thurston's eye followed them; they were in accord with the gentle balm of the spring air that midwinter surreptitiously breathed. He fell into one of those moods that the most active and content-to-work souls must sometimes fall into--the mood of dreamy discontent. Twenty- six years of life already passed, and what had come of itf Fortune? No. Happiness? No. A moderate success? Yes. Much to be thankful for in health, friends, and a congenial field of work ? Yes. But, after all, on such a day as this there comes an ennut, a sense of incohipleteness, a vague longing for experience, for pos session, for life, so exquisite and so in tense that the achievements of youth seem paltry in compaiison, and its finest pleasures awaken disgust. A morbid mood ; Frank Thurston knew it, but he yielded to the spell, nevertheless. A faint knock on the door aroused him. "Come in," he shouted, in no particu larly well-attuned voice. A lady entered--a young lady richly costumed; velvet, dark fur, silk, dia monds perhaps; Buch was the soft, dark tinted, yet brilliant effect. A beautiful girl with a face like April; that is, if April has laughing blue eyes, and "baby roses on the cheeks, & pearly brow and a tangle of gold-brown hair; and a way with her at once delicate and insinuat ing, spirited yet shy, altogether fresh and new and yet familiar as an old, old song. Frank Thurston did not wait to make this comparative analysis. He applied himself instantly to oourtesy and re spectful attention, and the young lady told her errand. "Isthis Mr. Thurston? My father, Mr. Bommelaine, is at home to-day; he has taken a severe cold, and tho doctor says !ie must aot go out of the house for a week. He has sent me in hie place to give you a little note; he would not trust it to messenger or telegraph. It is very important. You are to read it, please, and send a verbal answer." She gave him a letter inclosing anoth er letter. He read them carefully. She watched him while he read. " Do you know the particulars of this ease, Miss iiommelaine?" he asked. " Yes; 1 am the only one at home that- enters completely into my father's feel ings concerning it. I have heard from him all its perplexities. I was with him when the news came of the verdict of ' guilty.' He has told me that 'twas by your ingenuity and exertion that the new trial has been ordered, and delay gained. I know, too, the content® of the letter that you have now read. Do you think it encourages any reliable hope ?" "I do think so," Mr. Thurston an swered. " I am so glad, so very glad. I am now on my way to see Mrs. Bommel aine; and my father said that, with your permission, I might tell her that a gleam of favorable evidence has at last reached us." Mr. Thurston objected to this as pre mature, but promised a speedy investi gation of the new source of information opened by a letter sent in answer to foreign advertisements made by Mr. Bommelaine, who had been indefatiga ble in seeking the assurance of an inno cence in which, with stubborn unreason ableness, and in contradiction to much circumstantial evidence, he kept faith. 44 Are you walking this morning, Miss Bommelaine ?" asked Mr. Thurston, as his visitor was about to depart. " Yes, I am prepared for a walk; but I hardly realized when I started how wet the streets would be down town." Mr. Thurston, with a strange flutter of anxiety lest he should be refused, begged to be allowed to accompany Miss Bommelaine on her way, so far, at least, aa the crossing of thoroughfares made that way difficult. She accepted readily. And so it happened that Frank Thurs ton, on that spring-like day of January, suddenly thrown into a protective rela tion toward very lovely girl, found himself presently in something of the condition of Marine when "the water went through his boots, and the stars went through his soul" Conversation was simple enough. It related exclusively to the ease in which Mr. Thurston's senior partner had been engaged as counsel, and in preparing whose evidence he had himself taken most active part. 44 The wife is so joung and so amia ble," said Miss Bommelaine. 44 She was a governess brought from England by a family in B . And there she fell in love with her husband. They are both orphans, and they were both poor, I think, from the first, but not so poor as after his long illness they became. _ I suppose that poverty was against him in the case as proving mo tive for the deed; was it not Mr. Thuratrvn ?" "It had its weight, no doubt," the lawyer answered. And here .they reached a orossing, where, in the throng and upon unsafe pavement, certain little attentions be came imperative; at one juncture Mr. Thurston even seized the hand of his beautiful companion, and did so quite consciously. It was, indeed, a little gloved " angel" of a hand, not oft en tertained by men-folks 44 unaware." On they went, still talking over the case. 44 'Tis really wonderful," Miss Bommelaine said, 44 how the poor man's own theory is sustained by the letter that f ather reoeived this morning. That corroboration, I imagine, causes you to hope." 441 have felt from the first," Mr. Thurston answered, "that the death was by suicide, not by murder. But the prisoner's earnest assertion on this point could not be brought before the jury in offset of the proved facts. The watch and money were found beside the pistol several paces beyond the place where the dead man lay, and certainly had the ap pearance of being laid together for the purpose of removal. The direction of the shot-wounds was possible by suicide, but not probable." 44 'Twas strange, too, that the accused man should have chosen that lonely by-way for returning home so late at night" 44 Yet it was the most direct course, almost parallel with the railway. Poor fellow, he says he hesitated some mo ments whether to take the car or walk. Even in the assurance that he had found at last a saving employment, and had 4 a chance of life again,' his habit of poverty made him cling to the few cents that walking could save." The words 44a chance of life again" brought vividly to Miss Bommelaine's mind the vital interest. 44 Can you save him ?" she asked, and added, with girl ish warmth, 44 oh, if you can save him, I think you will win the best love of three people to the very end of your life--my father's beyond all; he has taken this whole affair into his heart of hearts." 44 The water went through his boots, and the stars went through his soul." Frank Thurston, returning to his offioe after taking leave of Miss Bommelaine, accepted the whole day as the most beautiful of days. The very contrast of oveihead and underfoot had become idealized. If he looked up into the spring-like sky, he thought of her sweet face; if he looked down into the miry path, he thought of her bewitching little feet. 4i Overhead" had actually npt done as much for him as 4 4 underfoot." ' When he reached the office, every trace of ennui and of disgust at the want of harmony between the work-a-day and ideal worlds had vanished. Miss Bommelaine visited the prison er's wife, still occupying, by her own wish, the same room where Mr. Bomme laine had found her; but everything in it was changed. An anteroom adjoining had been added, so the main room could be a comfortable parlor; it contained now pretty sofas and chairs, a sweet- toned cottage piano, pictures on the walls, and delicious groups of flowering plants. The poor wife, no longer hag gard and utterly hopeless, had been sur rounded with every comfort by her pow erful friend, and she leaned devoutly upon his assurance that all would yet be well. She occupied herself with the care and teaching of her child. The child, a loving little creature, flew to greet Miss Bommelaine; and, during the half-hour visit, both mother and child so perceptibly drew comfort and hope from her fries and her that she was qint« absorbed in thoughts of them. But when she had left them, and had taken the avenue car for home, their images gave place to that of the young lawyer, Mr. Thurston. Was it the strange loveliness of the winter day that gave the delicious atmosphere to that reverie ? She ended a day-dream with one prac tical thought. "If Bichard Willougliby was like Mr. Thurston, I think perhaps --perhaps I could love him, and please mamma; and, oh! I should like so much to please mamma!" Early February brought storms of wind and sleet and bitter cold. Winter once more reigned. And on one wintry evening Frank Thurston was summoned to visit Mr. Rommelaine, who, although convalescent, was still confined to his houss. The lawyer was reoeived in the library, where Mr. and Mrs. Bommelaine were enjoying a tete-a-tete in the warm fire light; while Miss Bommelaine, at a low- lamped table near by, bent over her em broidery, for which a foppish-looking young man at her side appeared to be assorting the colors. Miss Bommelaine had not forgotton Mr. Thurston, but their words of recog nition were brief, for Mr. Bommelaine appropriated him immediately. Mrs. Bommelaine became an indifferent audi tor of the talk, and her daughter with drew herself from it to entertain the young man, for whom Frank Thurston conceived at first sight a dislike. As the legal conversation proceeded, Mr. Bommelaine became more and more excited. His voice grew loud. He re capitulated with earnest delight the de tails of the favorable turn apparent in the progress of 44 the case." The atten tion of all in the room was soon drawn to his remarks. Mrs. Kommelaine interposed. 4 4 Dear Bobert, do not be too hopeful. You were disappointed before; you may be again. • Mr. Thurston, 1 do not sympa- thize with my husband's intense appro priation of this case. I don't think there is so much in a name that a man should sacrifice himself indiscriminately to keep I it in repute. What if John Smith should 1 interest himself vitally in the doings and sufferings of every other John Smith ? To be sure, Ilommelaines are not so common as Smiths, but the prin ciple is the same. Well, frank, you might as well speak; I know you want to." Frank Thurston started, but one glanoe at Mrs. Bommelaine was suMcient to assure him that this closing address of her speech was not made to nim, but to Miss Bommelaine--Frances,44 Frank," as they called her en famille. "My own name," he thought; and he felt a thrill of delight, as from one of those fond little proclivities for coinci dence that one indulges in when the Ob ject of the coincidence happens to be in teresting or dear. Miss Bommelaine, being allowed, spoke, bnt her cheeks flushed and he; voice slightly trembled. Mr. Thurstoi looked at her with that gaze which draws into itself the strength of the conscious nerves. She dared not return his gaze, for to do that would be to lose com posure. "I cannot help feeling as father does," timidly yet earnestly said Miss Bommelaine. "It seems to me right that he should have taken just this in terest in these people, although they are in no way related to us.- They cer tainly have father's name, and dear Bob bie's name ; there is something sacred about that, I am so glad that father has worked very hard and spent a great deal; and 5on, too, Mr. Thurston, to save this man. I believe he will be saved; then he will indeed bless the name. And then, and tlien"--brighter glowed her cheek; her voice still slight ly trembled--441 think more than ever now, since I see the just and kind ef fect, that people should consider that they are related to each other. For my part, I wish I could be to every one just as I would be if they were my own, of my blood and of my name. I believe that would be really the 4 fulfilling of the law,' as dear father fulfills it." And here Miss Bommelaine very gracefully, but altogether girlishly, arose from her place and came close be hind her father s chair, and, putting her arms around his neck, gave him a little kiss on the side of his cheek; and then came her silvery little laugh, and they all laughed at her enthusiasm; and she went back to her embroidery and to the gentle fop whom Mr. Thurston detest ed ; and very soon thereafter Mr. Thur ston took his leave. But one month from that day he came again; he came to congratulate Mr. Bom melaine upon the successful issue of the second trial. The message conveyed to him by Frances Bommelaine was the proof, now collaterally sustained, that the death of an eccentric misanthrope had been by suicide, and not by the hand of the fellow-man who was found near him in his extremity under circumstances of convicting suspicion, and who was ar raigned for 4 4 highway robbery and mur der." A letter written by tne suicide, and mailed upon the day that the fatal act took place, described, as part of his plan, the very details which had told heavily against the accused. This letter was directed to an obscure merchant in an obscure town in Germany. Only the most indefatigable and unstinting assidu ity on the part of Mr. Bommelaine had reached that obscurity and brought the hidden thing to light Winter came again, after a brief sum mer--are not summers always brief ?-- and after an autumn eventful to more than one expectant heart. The new year had begun, and the gay city was astir with New Year's calls. Never was there a clearer, whiter New Year's day upon which to make good resolutions; never a more crisp, white, sparkling sheet of snow to receive new tracks ana footprints. The air rang with sleigh- beils and merry voices; the houses were gay with bright costumes, bright lights, and bright fires. Mrs. Bommelaine was receiving calls, and in the pleasurable excitement she did not heea a package of letters that the postman had brought to the door. But one of these, as it was directed to her name, Frances Bommelaine seized, and escaping from the drawing-room, till mamma missed her and sent word imme diately to return, she found time to read: MY DEABEST KIND FRIENDS--Your good and must welcome letter was received to-day, and, in answer to your inquiries for all the particu lars of oar life here and our new iiome, I groat pleasure in trying to sketch for you the scenery, and giving you an idea of our plans. The pencil drawing I inclose will show you the lionse and garden, and the lovely river that runs close by the garden waft. The large buildings in the distance are the factories, and never have 1 emn my husband BO happy as he is now. It seems that the factorivs are almost completely under Ms control. He comes home at evening, being absent all day, but not at all weary. Our evenings are so happy--I know Jrou will be pleased to hear, dear Mis« ltomme-aine, tor you take interest in us, I know--and little Luoy sits up till 9. I teach her in the mornings, and am busy about the house all day. It is a delightful home. The neighbors are pleasant, and we all like the place, and think this Western valley the garden of the world. It seems that our great and terrible misery has gone forever, and I wish that all women could be as happy as I am now. And the letter continued with a strain of gratitude that never in the hearts of the Bommelaines in the far West could cease to flow to their benefactors at home. 44 This letter comes on the right day," said Frances Boinisielaine. 44 Every thing is bright and happy to-day. The first thing this morning dear father called me to him and whispered, 4I have said yes,' and the next thing was Frank Thurston's happy, happy face. I love him so much! And now these poor dear people are happy; and mamma is-- at least mamma looks happy; I know she can hardly forgive me about Bichard Willougliby, but I really was conscien tious about him, for he is very rich, I know, and I tried to love him, and I tried not to love Frank Thurston; but I suppose such things cannot be helped, and it really was fate that he should be just where we were all summer--oh, what a sweet summer, only too short! And to-day is so bright and beautiful; I wonder what happy thing will come next!" Almost as she spoke it came. It eame in the library by the fire-light of the closing day. The hum of voices rushed from the hall and the drawing- room, for New Year's calls were at their height. But in the library there were only two people. And then he took it out of its little ease and put ic upon her finger; but first he kissed her hand; he kissed that par ticular finger too, first 5F >n4>- Her engngement ring. The diamond was not big; perhaps Frank Thurston^ thought that his love engagement should correspond with business engagements! in the size of proclaiming sign. The diamond was not big, but it was a very pure, a very bright, little stone. It was big enough to hold all the oolors of the rainbow m its small adamantine heart, and to reflect every movement of the New Year, that should have clear, sweet light. Before he put it upon her finger he looked widiin its circle; they bothlooked within, with their young faces very close together, and their hands clasped, and read together the word engraved beneath the stone : "Frank." She understood the choice. 44 My own name," she said. " My own name," he repeated; and then, although it was extremely danger-* pus, for bo tlx the library doors were open, and people were going from the drawing-room and hall wherever they liked, and might have seen, and it would have been wiser to wait--although it was extremely dangerous, he took her into his arms and gave her his engage* ment kiss.-- Harper'% Weekly. ; A Needle Causes a tiirl'g Deatk. About a month ago a 12-year-old daughter of Be v. J. A. J. Williams, of Soaring Spring, complained of a diffi culty in swallowing and breathing. She also alleged that she had swallowed a needle or a pin. Dr. Stayer was sent for, and examined her throat and gave her some medicine. She soon recovered1' and appeared to be restored to her usual health. Two Wefeks ago the little girl again complained of the difficulty in her throat. She became quite sick, nor did any remedy alleviate her sufferings. One week ago Dr. C. Irwin, of this Ijorough, was called to consult with Dr. Stayer in reference to the condition of the patient. They found her suffering with a diffi culty in breathing; her pulse was hur ried; one of the fingers of the left hand was gangrened; tho right lung was ap parently solidified; there was no circu lation in her left arm. The physicians informed the parents that there was no hope for the child. She died on Friday. In accordance with the wishes of the father, a post-mortem examination was held on Saturday by Drs. Irwin and Stayer. In the cavity of the chest was found a pint or more of blood. This blood had forced the left lung upward, stopping the circulation in the left arm. It had forced the heart out of its posi tion, over toward the right side, and had also crowded the right lung out of posi tion. The left lung was solidified and gangrened, iln this lung was found a long, fine cambric needle, the evident cause of her death. The child was right. She had swallowed a needle, and it had resulted in her death.--Hollidaysburg (Perm.) Standard. The Devil's Daughters. The wounded were fearfully tortured and mutilated by the Nez Perces squaws on the Big Hole battle-ground. The soldiers had taken the Indian "village, but being overpowered by numbers they were obliged to fall back and fight their way to a position on the side of the mountain which the enemy had already taken possession of. They had a des perate encounter, but carried the point, and immediately dug trenches with their trowel bayonets. In the meantime the wounded had been left on the bottom by the creek, and, while the bucks set fire to the grass and tried to burn the little band of soldiers out of their trenches, the squaws mangled and tort ured the poor fellows who were still alive but unable to help themselves. The atrocities perpetrated upon the help less boys in blue by these she-devils can hardly be realized by anyone unaccus tomed to tales of savage barbarity. They heated their camas-hooks red-hot, and then thrust them into the bodies oi the wounded ; mangled them in ©very conceivable manner, and slowly tortured them to death in ways known only to red devils. Early in the action a bugler, a mere boy, was wounded in both legs. One of his comrades carried him off the field and then returned to the fight, the bugler saying that he would rest there a few minutes and then try and walk off to a place of safety. The Indians got possession of the creek and bottom land, the squaws discovered, mutilated him and burned both his eyes out. The boy's sufferings can be imagined, and death was certainly a welcome relief to htinu--Salt Lake Tribune. Whisky as a Detective. That there is some good in evil is fully exemplified in the following singular in cident, which occurred a few evenings since: A lady, the wife of a well-known citizen, residing on Broad street, whose name, by special request, we withhold from publication, entered her sleeping apartment late one night, after having returned from an evening social, and was somewhat annoyed at smelling whisky. Knowing that liquor was not used in the house, she became frightened, and thought perhaps some intoxicated per son had entered the premises during her absence. She called her husband and another gentleman, who were in the pal lor below, and when they arrived an in vestigation of the room began. Mr. , the husband, crawled under the bed, and while groping about his head came in contact with something projecting from the under part of the mattress. The latter -named article was removed, and snugly secreted between the slats and ticking was found a rough-looking man. When discovered, he sprung tip, struck one of the gentlemen a stinging Mow on the forehead, drew a revolver, rushed down the front stairway, out of the door, and was lost in the dark. It was very- evident that the intruder was a thief, who, knowing that the lady had valuable jewels in her possession, had secreted himself with a view of robbing her when she had retired for the night. Now comes the important part the whisky detective acted. The fellow, whoever he was, had carried a bottle or flask in his pocket, and the cork had fallen out, thus causing the liquor to run out on the carpet and warn the lady.--Philadelphia Press. THB late Mr. Hart, the sculptor, de voted himself for many years to his statue of the ideal woman. One day an acquaintance in Italy spoke to him of the long time he had given to the work. 44 Well," said he, smilingly, 44 since it takes nature eighteen years to make a beautiful woman, why should I finish my work more quickly ?" tub FOLLOWER. ' MI BIOHABD HXXBY 8TOOOABO. W« have a jronngBi»( m the b«MN» f man of ten; Who dearest to hia mother is Of all God's little men. to-dooni and out he dings to tar, He follows up and down; He uteata his slender hand in tan, <( He plucks her by the *own. way do you (ding to me so, childt Yon track me everywhere: You never let mm be alone." ii- And he, with serious air, - Aiuwered, as closer still he draw, * My feet were made to follow Two years before the boy was horn. Another child, of seven, * 7 w Whom Heaver had lent to ns awUlairV- * i Went back again to Heaven. > He came to llU hii brother's ; And bless our failing ysrs- * The good God sent him down in knii- To dry our useless tears. I think so, mother, for I hear " " In what the child haa said - 1, *" A meaning that he knows noldC, A message from the dead. r; He answered wiser than he knew, " My feet were made to follow ° Come here, my child, and Bit witu Your head upon my breast; <• You are the last of all my sons, : And you must he the beet. , How much I love you, you may gusi|. When, grown a man like me, You sit as I am sitting now, Your child upon your knee. Think of me then, !>nd what I said <And practiced when I could), Tie something to 1> > great and wise, 'lis better to be good. O, say to all things good and trne, 44 My feet were made to follow yon.*; Come here, my wife, and sit by ma, '•'* And place your band in mine « v (And yours, my child), while I biteMf- Tis wicked to repin". : We've had, our share of sorrows, dear, • We've had our graves to fill; But. thank the good God overhead. We have each other still; We've nothing in the world beside, For we are only three; Mother and child, my wife and How dear you are to me! I know--indeed, I always knew, My feet were made to follow yon I PITH AND POINT. CoAii-oiL comes near being the fat the land. ' A YOTJNOSTER who had been stung a bee told his father he had kicked a bqc that had a splinter in his tail. THEY say 44 cowards only strike in tha dark," but we were of the opinion that it was the person who wanted to light a match. THB Russian eagle had two heads when this war began. He now has three. The Turks put the other h^d on him. FROM 9. boy's composition on hens: *' I cut my Uncle William's hen's head off with a hatchet, and it scared her to death." A PUPiii in an English school whet asked to define the word 44 buttress^ * wrote out its meaning, 41A female whd makes butter." /'I'M, call to-borrow," said the msii with a cold in his head, as he went out of a doctor's offioe. *' No, you needn't,' was the reply. 141 never lend." I YOUNG man woke up the other nigh' and saw a ghost in his room. Seizing his six-shooter, he approached it, an. found it was his collar, which happen*. to be standing on the floor. 44 MAMMA," asked a precious young ster at a tea-table, the other evening, after a long and yearning gaze toward a plate of doughnuts, 44 do you think I could stand another of those fried holes?" - A GENTLEMAN had occasion to correct his daughter, aged 4, recently. After it was over and she had sat a while, she went to her mother and inquired, 44 Don't ypn think it would do papa good to go out of doors ?" HE ran somewhat hastily into a cigar store and said pompously, 4 4 Give me one of your best Matilda cigars." ** I guess you mean a Marguerite," said the clerk. 44Oh, yes," he said, 441 was thinkin^of another girl." 44 FATHER," said a bey who got kicked in th© face by a mule, 44 will I ever be as good-looking as I was?" 44No, my son," answered the parent, 441 don't think you'll be as handsome as you were, out you'll know a great deal more." THE man who thought to drive this office to the wall by stealing the shears is respectfully informed that--ah, um-m; by gracious, what is he respectfully in formed, anyhow? Without those shears we feel sort of dazed like.--Oil City Derrick. As agent, soliciting subscription for a book, showed the prospectus to a msa who, after reading 44Ono dollar in boards and $1.25 in sheep," declined subscrib ing, as he might not have boards or sheep on hand when called upon for payment. SAYS Josh Billings: I am willing to rock the baby while wimaaeii. folks are biling soap; I am reddy to kwt rags to work into rag carpets; they kan keep 199 hunting hen eggs; or picking green kuj> rents; or I will even dip kandles or kore apples for sass, but I won't ohurn." 44OH, my life, my love, my sweety, may heaven's angels whisper golden words as they kissyoui peachy cheeks !" wrote a lover to his sweetheart only six months ago; and now he wishes the angels would whisper to him how his breach of promise suit is likely to end, as his lawyer frankly says he can't tell, A STONE-CUTTER once received from ft German the following epitaph, to be en graved on the tombstone of his deceased wife: 44 My vife Susan is dead; if she had lif to next Friday, she'd been dead shust two weeks. As a tree fall so she mmst stand. All tHingn is impossible mitGod." A NEGRO having been brought up be fore a magistrate and convicted of pilfer ing, the magistrate began to remonstrate: 44 Do you know how to read ?' ' 44 Yes, massa--little. 4 4 Well, don t you ever make use of the Bible ?" 44 Yes, mossa, strap him razor on him sometimes." A SHOCKING case of fratricide and sui cide occurred in Baltimore a few days ago. Henry Barloge shot and killed his brother John, and, placing the muzzle of a revolver to his own breast, fatally wounded himself. The brothers were in easy circumstances. Henry was about 30 years old, and about three years since lost his wife, since which time it is claimed that he has labored under temporary aberration of mind. Neighbors deny the insanity claim, and state that the shooting was the result of a quarrel arising from business troubles. Both men were well known in Baltimore, and possessed the good-will and confi dence of a large circle of friends.