«, but, whatever it is, I *ty individuality out of I oonnt on it for r »aeb unknots .V-TPT touch »t»MM*4 •»<*h »<**• flS* Iwre another a»*p «<• need m light as clew Which Alls elerattr we walk ,> human Ugh If totOodlfc onMi . ** tinta nlght~ , alone baSli feeed ftM v6a call me Umax- Is w? very toa* ^ ' forever ae<*h of «». fc.. MmHkttf on high part star trom-ati Vi. 'togusf-f "* EUWWFRTTNAMATAAIBE-*"F VA i -**!*«* ~«r.v-,'^n $;•• * ~ ""milDEUWE. ; *•""**** f| All the girls who were leaving school Ml i j»i1 with them anticipations of a «ajP%i#ter, a round of parties, balls •ltd 0|MM Hot so with Madeline De- Ituuey. The dying *ill of her father •sado her aunt's house har home for the .TO BITWEETO 18 and 21; and, even if deltne had been unwilling to com ply, elia, , would still have gone, so gre^siasher iw»iH5ct for her father s mflginTT •• • Mrs. Ohathard was an Invalid, and Iwr family consisted only of a son--a autn and said to be eccentric Decid aooo' o* in t&y "Aaum««nt? We share the Mmt blood, Mr. Ohattecd. I think yon shonld know some thing of the will Irhieh is among oar heirlooms. I doubt if I shall ohoose to serve even a Chathard as amusement," "You wilt have no ohoioe. You will go to church with me to-morrow. Yon win see and be seen of all the magnates. They will forthwith oall upon yon; you will go to make a round of dreary visits; you will go to solemn tea-driukings; yon will talk to Capt. Fanway and Sir Peter Farquhar, the two eligibles of the parish, and when you have talked over the weather you will begin to fidget, and wish yourself home with me. Even a bear like me will prove more endur able than those unmitigated young men. You will talk with me, and, in the na ture of things, you will amuse me. You oannot help yourself." "I have other resources," answered Madeline, loftily. " I have arranged a dramatic course of study." , Mr, Ohathard smiled. 5 ' "Try it, my dear cousin,'try afl means. It is the most enchanting thing in the world-- in prospect. Try it, I say again, and remember, I shall be very happy to aid you if any difficulties occur- -which, though, it is to be pre sumed, is not possible." With which he took himself off, leav- -~»nd the old fasxily servants, •uecia- )ng piqued aid curious. She & wetj wntuaat prospect for ^a(j amp|e time, however, to recover Madeline. It was a sullen autumn day when Madeline rode, for the first time, up the avenue leading to her aunt's house. Seesaw a gray sky, flying clouds, and • white beach on which the sea beat . feeevily in, and, standing in the midst of a cluster of pines, was a low, massive building that might have been a prisOn, gqfpihly WAf a house. No one eame to the door to welcome her. Mr. (Sutluid was not at home; Mrs Chat- tttrfc wis in the library, and.l>egged tbt Madeline would conic to her there. 8haioui)d her lying on the sofa, busy witn sotfee sort of knitting--a sallow, dalicate, fretful woman. aKo." she said, shrinking back, as Madeline showed a disposition to kim fcer: "no one but Frederic has kissed for te&ritf Don't commanoe. I am • creature of habit; I don't like to be disjointed iu any of my regular habits. Io$|y «§me down to-uay on your ac- ooant, and it has quite unnerved me. I shall not try it again. 1 must have |Mt$fce!VepQ£e. Frederic comes to see me morning ahd evening; that is as much as I can bear." With that, Madeline was waved off to Iter room, where indignation supplanted -• a strong desire to cry, and curiosity ^ml%!»!fr B0t the better of both. It was' really, she decided, on looking about her, a pleasant room, with crim- •aM^Mic^uLpaifkna farnitnre, and a deep winotw looking out on the sea. There waara bureau, with a great many little •drawers that she pleased herself with . arranging mentally. There was a vase of flowers that spoke of a conservatory; ahefttad seen that the library was well flUid** pretty piano occupied a recess iaftlroom. -IAallpassmytime very tolerably," " Iwo- iNfrhaps this last thought had some aaflnence in h# tcllst, eke why should «he braided her hair and put on be/f^ dress ? It was hardly to he snpjpaoisod that her charms would Jhave much effect on the quiet parlor- oiaJkk'wbo slont was in attendance. JfiideK&e ale her sapper with curling % and ctormy brow. "Mb is a b^rlwri&n! I know I shall if. wi her inward comment. m lliafc I would be aSf^bfrf) been civil, How- er^Tf^m ^.miry well without him I" And, getting a book from the library Unites, she sat herself down resolutely to mo&£ 'as- she wewid, her thoughts wandered back to the pleasant xoom where si^, nsed to sit with her girl-^ and talking--so 1 pjeat, silent, hand- ^ ^ afraid the contrast »Iftitilfo favorable, for her niUow was wrat with tears that night, j ~ that once time lasted in sojitede, tali Saturday len Hw prii •Id^bonsekeep- er entered the parior where Madeline was sitting, wori^inllitet 13 ba£d7 fjredeito |a,at home," she said, |jt^afo thinks it proper Sfit in the room;" with . .tioaske walked over to tiwj«xiiBiiNeiii of the apartment and TanjAeii' behind the curtains of the lx>w-winAow. Madeline ended her lip slightly at jomdeitM ^psrations and weattiti'with her reading, trying to eonvince herself that her heart was not besting fast. She heard a quick, mas- ealine step without in the hall--heard it todnt and advance toward kwj Wt ®did not raise her eyes until he 1 atoOd 'd^Acfly biefore her. Shis had iiaxtf wdriytasuppreps her surprise, he wrasso little like what she had imagined. Mofcoldrrrrim: il he was really 30 he by no means looked his age--not tall, . win and sallow; on the contrary, small, IbaU^H' well formed, with an abundance Irfoarling brown hair r lafrge bine eyes thaTlllUlliil lllWM^FfB a woman, «o evenly Were th* t*owS, so ; long ue la«ies».so eof-t, ao almost suf- ; • ieru&^iyir einression; elear-cui fe^t- • white am! even : ffaampk his tliiek innstache; a gentle, ^u^CliSsureti manner, neither austere ibowidik, Madeline had itnag- it that of a gentleman and a I the world. ' easily enough for the _ *_ 'important busi- mneh-endurinjgr scapegoat, luMHdc^n^Hhim--extremely "Horry. Batr ^todeltee, who, hadt no patience 14m, "Pray spare your regrets; it is quite evident that sour •deepest dye.| sorrow is oi oountecaaoe the be- bis eres wide hadsoemed •jP^ned H^herto he the question. . ly ypn are really ojg'ended, show it after a spirited fashion. to atke my paaqe. about" *lood! It will letting to talk > indignantly. r few minutes sgo I thought not. I mgpged^ to bye gone through the •••llwflr wamBiiee, and, after that, to ha^e sat oooasjonafly with you, by ^*>7 ®' keeping you in countenance: %«tnowI M|»es| , There is something V I , T? herself, and proceeded with her studies. It was three mortal weeks before he presented himself again. When h 3 did oome, it was in a ghostly fashion. She was bending over a book, and, looking up suddenly, found him standing be fore her, watching her keenly, looking weary and strangely dissatisfied. He gave her a cool nod, and threw himself into a chair near her. "Talk!" he said imperatively. "I am bored." Madeline's hot blood leaped up in re volt. Words hovered on her lips that, cool as he was, could not but have placed an eflectual barrier between them. Something arrested them. A pained look was in his eye, anguish about his mouth, showing dimlv through the mask of cynicism. A new impulse possessed her. "Cousin," she said, gently enough, "why should we be at war? We are of the same blood, and I think we are alike in this ' one thing, at least--that we are both alone. Why goad eioh other with bitter words? Would it not be better to help each other? I don't ask nor offer any confidence; only if there could be a liking and a friendship between us, let it develop itself. Let us not hinder it. I am so lonely; and I think if you would let me that I shonld like you." Strange emotion glistened in his eyes and shook his voice. "I swore once." he said, "never to trust mankind, still less womankind, again.*, "Unsay the rash oath," she said, eagerly. "It stmts yon from all happi ness and goodness." "Howdare you ask n#l S;.J» whom shall I trust? , ,i. , , "In me." •' ^ 'v. ; "A girl--a cliild, that doesn't even know the meaning of thingB about her, much lessher own heart 1" "I know one thing--the truth that I feel within me. That never dies, and never fails. Only trp me, cousin. I long to be good." ( "I believe you do," he said, much softened. "I believe, with all my nnocent fervor, you do wish it. I will trust till I see that yon, too, afo going to deceive me. Will you take the responsibility ?" Madeline held ont her hand, and so there was true© between them. Every night they studied and talked under the supervision of the prim housekeep er; and at last he fell into a way of tak ing a morning walk with her in the garden and riding with her in the after noon. He even went with her to sev eral parties, and always to church; and the neighborhood held,, up its hands in sstonishment. Months passed away. Yery peaceful, happy ones they were. But one even ing he failed to make his appearance. Ail the next day Madeline watched for him, but in vain. He has gone away," she thought, with a keen pang, "and did not tell me." One week passed--two--three. Sus pense grew unendurable. She vent ured an inquiry of the prim house keeper. "Mr. Frederic is not away---he is ilL" "III! Why was I not told? I will go to him at once 1" " He has the typhus fever, miss; and Mrs. Ghathard ordered that you should on no account be admitted, for feel of the infection." Madeline left the housekeeper with out another word, and went straight to Frederic's room. . She was not very sure of its locality, for it was in the other wing of the house--a place where she had never ventured. She was, how ever, exceedingly doubtful of the pro priety of going at all; but, if he should die without her, would propriety con sole her? She went in trembling. He was alone and awake. He turned tow ard her hollow, reproachful eyes. " Are you better?" was the first ques* tiOn. "Yes; but why have you left me alone so long? I thought you oared for me,"* • " I do. I do! I never knew. I wait ed and wondered, and grew sick at heart. No one told me, and to-day I asked. I was too proud to do it before. I thought you had gone away, after the old fashion, without telling me. Then they said I mustn't come to you for fear of the infection." . " There is danger! Go away at once!" 'I will not. Why shouidl not share danger with you? AM the orders in the world shan't drive me fr jm you!" He turned toward her with sudden animation, seized her hand, looked earnestly into her face, and said, "My little darling, I really believe that you love me as I do you.*' And from that moment he mended, in spite of doctors and physic, and the somber old house is gay enough under the blithe supervision of its young mistress, Mm. JPrederie Chathard, our Madeline. tttma ttM» «W*ricui Alppimî ;̂ r«bru«l».j Bwiaa BTOOIC Mtrir m-KIBOT---The ritfhtsxwk, too,m»s*bek«|>$n the light ptM*. The ohoioe and auMuigenea|of animals requfcfe an accurate tottwta whieh tnust oome trom outside of own fana ptaotiee. A farmer cannot test these things for himself and run the risk of losses that would be ruinous to him. All this has been done and re corded in books and agricultural papers. Yotnto GHIOKXKS.--Early chickens, which can bo reared easily if proper care is given, may be kept in a glass- covered coop proteofed at night by cov ering with straw. If severe '©old is feared, heat a couple of bricks hot in the oven, wrap them in a piece of car pet, and put them in the coop. A large can or jug of hot water is also a very good warmer. VERMIN.--The poultry house, if elose- ly examined, may be found to swarm with lice. A gray, mealy powder may be seen on the roosts, in orevices, ana in the corners and joints erf the build ing. Take a common squirt can filled with kerosene oil and injeot the oil into every crevice in the house. Repeat this process if it is found necessary, and very soon the fowls will be free from these insect pests. KEEP THE GOOD CALVES.--As the cows come in the best of th£ heifers may be selected for rasiing. There can be no better way to improve the stock of cows than to use a good bull and keep the best calves, well feeding and caring for them until matured. After they become oows a selection can again be made for breeding, and only the best retained. In a few years the value of dairy cows may be doubled by this careful practice of seleotion. GRABS in the North is not made as available as it might. An opinion pre vails that grass lands can not be kept in permanently good condition. Yet there are in many localities plots and tracts of grass that are very old and show no signs of failure. What has been done one© in this way can be done again. A permanent pasture or meadow is inval uable. Why can not we try to makl and keep them? This is a subjeot worthy the most careful study. GEESE AND DUCKS.--These are profit able birds in some cages, and may be kept where there is cheap grazing. Half a dozen geese will soon fill a good sized feather bed or a pair of pillows. Tho»white ducks are perhaps equally useful in this way. Both of these will, now begin to lay, but must-be closely watched and kept up at nights, or they will drop their eggs abroad. The eggs should be gathered and kept in a cool but not cold place until they are wanted for setting. FOWLS will need the best food if eggs are desired. Wheat steeped in boiling water, and given hot, and hot baked po tatoes crushed with a masher, are as good food as can be given; water slight ly warmed, with a small quantity of sulphate of iron (copperas) in it, is use ful. Allspice mixed with corn-meal mush is an excellent condiment, and by no means costly. Laudanum in ten- drop doses has been found a remedy for the cholera, or poultry intestinal fever, which has destroyed sy many flocks. VALVES ARE INCREASING.--Every relio of the loug-contirtued depression --the seven lean years--now happily jgoneby, is passing away. Prices are advancing, and every, purchased thing costs considerably more than it did a year ago. The farmer wbo values his land and stock may justly put up the figures from 25 to 50 per oent. His in come must be made to increase in pro portion, and this must be done to a great extent by increasing in every possible way she productive value of his prop erty. WHY CAN NOT WE GBOW LARGER CROPS.--There are looalities where it may pay to grow small crops cheaply, where one may skin the land for a few years and leave it, just as in some places cattle are or have been killed for their hides and the carcasses left to decay. But every year these looalities are growing more and more distant in the West, and in time land will be too val uable to be used in so wasteful a man- In Central and Eastern localities that a good peace Ifeeimil'J whan weaker then act of violence and the entire tuooewion* inacent- i government and a have lid to no _ than this tramp of a Across a man's orohard. y persons whose ftdth eak a neaoeful ending in Maine There is a n among the "doubters [(Ban form of government, when the piping times of nothing louder than a po- tle, is not "strong" enough, comes, and is altogether than Governments whioh ,e of force. As a matter of , , 'A A Mm After an enthusiastic lover spends two hours' hard labor over a letter to his girl, and then mars its beauty by spilling a drop of ink on it, he first swears in a scientific manner for a few minutes, and then draws a circle around, the blot and tells her it is a kiss, WIia iwm* kttHttgJn it rr$y%?T: t » the future prosperity of the farmers will depend upon the growth of larger crops by the expenditure of more labor on the land. To reach this end will be a work of time, but it will never be reached unless a beginning is made, and there was never a more propitious time to be gin than now. GRAFTING.--If old trees produce poor or even indifferent fruit, and they are still sound and vigorous, they mav be made productive and valuable by grafting good sorts upon them. This work should be done just as the buds begin to swell. If the tree is a large one, only a portion of it should be grafted the first season, beginning with the central part of the head. Great care should be taken that the grafts are of an excellent variety. It is a common notion among those who do not think about the matter that the mere ooera- tion of grafting somehow benefits the tree. The grafted tree is in fact a new tree; all of the bearing parts of the old tree are cut away, and a new head is planted, eo to speak, upon the old one. Hence the new top or head will be of the kind that is placed there, and un less good kinds are selected grafting will be useless. There are men who go about the countrv doing grafting. Some rre very excellent and others are bunglers, but there is no need of em ploy" g an j one. Any boy who can make a willow whistle can learn to graft, and every boy should be able to do it. The Breaking Strain of Republican In stitutions. The result in Maine, like the adjust ment of the electoral dispute at Wash ington in 1877, is another practical proof that republican institutions are strong enough to bear the strain of a disputed succession. No worse strain can oome on a Government and its ord inary administration. In a monarchy such a dispute must be settled by vio lence, real or threatened. In a great many republics it has had" the same issue. In the last century half the States in the Union have had contests over the succession of the chief execu tive, and, with the exception of the Gulf States since the war, such con tests have uniformly been settled with out strife or bloodshed. Tiie long can vass over Judge Morton's election in this State, the disputed election of Clin ton when Jay waived his rights to a contest, the so-called "buck-shot war" in Pennsylvania, the sharp eoateat in Ohio in 1807, the long legal battle in Michigan in 1855, all these, uke the dis pute in Msine, passed without firing an angry shot. , When the Dorr rebellion to the Federal makeaparsd fact and experience i t is stronger. The power of the sovereign people diffused through a thousand peaceful agencies stands behind them all, ready to strike its inevitable blow if obstacles oppose the peaoefuL execution of the law.-- Springfield "Republican. Alexandria and Gen. Washington. The pilgrim who leaves the nation's capital to visit the grave of Washing ton arrives, midway to Mount Vernon, at the quiet town of Alexandria. There he may find, if he will but blow aside the dust of a century, foot-prints of the Father of his Country that tell of his ways as he moved round about his home. Elsewhere the great chief is on horse back, or sits high in some chair of state, lofty and removed from common men; but in Alexandria he is dismounted and afoot--a townsman and a neighbor. The town and Washington came to gether into active life; for it was just as he grew from childhood into youth, at his krother's home, Mount Vernon, that the neighboring hamlet of Belhaven grew into the town of Alexandria. Bel- haven was a tobacco warehouse and some log-huts on the southern part of a patent owned by the great-grand children of one John Alexander, who in 1669 paid 6,000 pounds of tobacco for nine miles of river-shore nearly opposite what is now the District of Columbia. Just after this purchase, Washington's great-grandfather had led from the settled lands near the mouth of the Potomac a troop of militia to punish the Dogne Indians for the murder of Robert| Hen, a herds man, near what is now Mount Ver non. He became enraptured with these magnificent hills, and soon inoluded them in a patent of 7,000 acres. Over sixty years afterward this tract de scended to Lawrence Washington, George's elder biother, who married a daughter of Col. William Fairfax, of Belvoir, the County Lieutenant, and became neighbor to his father-in-law by settling at Mount Vernon. Hither came young George Washington, fresh from school. Having failed to be a midshipman, be was becoming a land surveyor--a profession not so opposite as might seem; for in mathematical methods the pursuits are identical, and the survey of a wild country is, ingperil and adventure, not unlike a voyage at sea. Into Belhaven young George Washington rode every day. Tradition says that he came ten times during one week, each time upon a different horse, every one an animal that would have delighted Gen. Grant. In those days the fine rider of a fine horse readily won his way to the popular heart. The lad had borrowed in turn all the best horses of the country-side, and he man aged each with such skill and grace that thereafter his future .was made in the village. The family circle at Belvoir and Mount Vej-ncuv inoluded, besides the visitor, Lord Fairfax, Baron of Cam eron, Col. William Fairfax, his son George William Fairfax, his sons-in-law Lawrence Washington and John Car- lyle, and William Ramsey, a cousin of the Washingtons. These gentlemen united with the Alexanders, who owned the Belhaven land, and some village traders, and established a town at Bel haven warehouse, designed as a practical matter to make money, and as a matter of taste to honor at the same time the Toyal family of England and the Fair fax family of America. The new town took shape with its streets at right angles. One center street, Cameron, flanked south by King, Prince and Duke streets, and north by Queen, Princess and Duchess streets, ana these streets crossed by another center street, Fairfax, flanked by Royal street on one side and the river on the other. Anx ious as the young surveyor, George Washington, was to perfect himself in his art, it is impossible to believe that this plan was made by Up relatives and friends without his fammarity. The lots of the new town were sold on the 13th of July, 1749. Among the purchasers were Lawrence Washington, John Carljle, Adam Stephen, afterward a subaltern under Braddock, and one of Washington's Generals in the Revolu tionary army, and John Champe, father of Sergt. Maj. Champe, of Lee's legion, who feigned desertion in the hope of capturing the traitor Arnold. The bids were made in Spanish pistoles. The lots, one-quarter acre each, sold at from $15 to $250 each. Young Washington hed no money to spare to buy town lots; but he owned some land opposite Fred ericksburg, and was already earning a doubloon a day by surveying the wild lands of Lord Fairfax. Almost as soon as this survey was completed, he was commissioned Major in the Colonial militia, and appointed Adjutant of the frontier district, with headquarters at Alexandria. From this center he or ganized the militia of the frontier counties, selected drill-masters for the officers, attended and regulated musters, and, on this limited field, first devel oped that mastery of detail and talent for organization which, twenty-five years later, organized on Boston heights a crude militia into a Continental army. There lingers yet in the traditions of the town the dim figure of a tali, wiry, sunburned young man, always on horse back, of " bitter" will, and yet of great popularity; not a personal magnetism that attracted individual men, but a dominating power that won men in mass by giving every one assuranoe of safety under his lead.-- William F. Came, in Harjjer's Magazine. A Tough Question. Children are often puzzled by ques tions which are not understood by their elders. During the lato Franco-Prus sian war a Sunday-school scholar read about the prayers with which the Ger mans and French were petitioning Heaven for success to their arms. "Mother," asked a little girl of her par- eat, "I don't see what the Lord can do under the circumstances, do you ? He can't give the victory to both of them, and it seems to me like a terrible di lemma to be placed in." Her mother, who was not entirely satisfied with the role which Great Britain played in the affair, remarked, "Well, my dear child, perhaps he Will do as the English do, eossip w Hl« «»d Otlavr MM awl s Matter*. . [John Ro«*ell Tow*>i «4*onnd the World With. * said Gen. Grant*, * Hamilton -is, I wefhif* i» -fifty yews, unless it .-j . ***• This will be the opinion of those who study the records of the State Department. He differed from Marcy and excelled him in this, that he never did anything for effect, while Marcy wonkl often, do things tor effect. la this--his aversion to any thing that looked like striving for an effect--Fish was so straight that I some times thought he leaned backward. When I formed my Cabinet I consulted no one. The only member of it whom I informed in advance was A. T. Stew art. Mr. Stewart had so many vast and stupendous private interests that I did not think it would be fair to offer Him such* a place without first knowing whether he could accept. I thought his genius for business would be the quality required for the treasury, and I wanted the treasury conducted on strict business principles. When I spoke to Mr. Stewart he was pleased. My first choice for the State Depart ment was James F. Wilson, of Iowa. I appointed Mr. Washburne under pecul iar circumstances. Mr. Washburne knew he was going to Franco, and wanted to go. I called on him one day when he was ill. I found him in a desponding mood. He said that before going to a country like France he would much like" to have the prestige of a Cabinet office J that it would help his mission very much. He suggested the treasury. I had already spoken to Mr. Stew art on the subject, and said I would make him Secretary of State. So came the appointment. You re member Schofieid was retained for a time as Secretary of War. I did this to mark my approval of his course ia going into Johnson's Cabinet. As a matter of fact, before Schofieid accept ed Johnson's offer he consulted with me, and I advised him to accept. But Schofieid was in the army, and a Gen eral. Of course he could not resign a life position of so high a grade to take a political office that would last four years. And I do not think it proper that an officer in high rank should be either at the head of the army or navy. After Rawlins died, I debated for some time between Belknap, whom I did ap point, and Fairchild, now the Consul General in Paris. What deoided be tween the two were state considera tions. I appointed Mr. Borie to the navy because I knew him to be an ex alted character, one of the best types of Americans I have ever known; a mer chant who had amassed a large fortune, and perfectly fitted for any place. If Mr. Borie had felt able or willing to undergo the labors of the Navyr Depart ment, he would have made an admira ble Secretary. He declined the place, and only remained for a time at my urgent entreaty. I wanted the Navy Department to go to Pennsylva nia and offered it to George H. Stuart, of Philadelphia. He was a business man and could not accept. Then I asked Lindley Smith, of Phila delphia. His professional engagements were too absorbing. Mr. Borie men tioned Robeson, and arranged that we should meet on an excursion I was tak ing to West Point. Here I made Robe son's acquaintance, and out of it came his appointment to the Navy Depart ment. After I pave the treasury to Boutwell, of course it would not do to have two Cabinet officers from Massa chusetts, and Mr. Hoar retired. I have a great esteem for Mr. Hoar, and was sorry the Senate did not confirm his nomination for the Supreme bench. 1 look back upon my Cabinet selections with great pleasure, and am very grate ful to the gentlemen associated with me for their assistance. Boutwell went out of the Cabinet to become a Sena tor. But I think he regretted it. He told me one day that he feit homesick after leaving the administration. I was sorry to lose him. I had difficulty in inducing Mr. Fish to remain eight years. At one time he was so bent on resigning that 1 ha'd selected his suc cessor. It would have been President White, cf Cornell. Under the present administration one thing has been achieved which 1 admire, namely, the proper position of the General of the Army. It is now as it was before Marcy, as Secretary of War, quarreled with Scott. Soott became angry and re tired to Elizabeth, leaving Marcy in command of the army. Secretaries have commanded it ever since until now. Now it is as it should be, and I think it will remain. "I never knew Greeley well," said the General, "and don't think I ever met him until after I was elected President. But I had a great respect for his char acter. I was raised in an old-line Whig family, my father being an active man in the Whig party--attending con ventions and writing resolutions. So that all my earliest predilections were for Greeley and his principles. I tried very hard to be friendly with Mr. Gree ley and went out of my way to court him, but somehow we never became oordiaL I invited him to the White House, and he dined with me. Gree ley had strange notions about the kind of men who should take office. He be lieved that when a man was a helpless creature, who could do nothing but burden his friends, and was drifting be tween the jail and the poorhouse, he should have an office. For good men to hold office was, in his mind, a degra dation. I remember on one occasion meeting him on the train between Washington and New York. I had a special car, and sent for him to come in. We talked all the way. He laid down this doctrine. 1 said, laughingly,' That, Mr. Greeley, accounts for your always pushing so-and-so,' naming one of his herd of worthless men who were always hanging about the Washington hotels with letters of recommendation from him in their pockets. He was much an noyed at my personal application, al though I had no idea of offending him. I don't think he ever quite forgave me (or my railery. Greeley was a man of great influence and capacity, but I think that in his latter years, at least when I knew him, he was suffering from the mental disease from whioh he died. He made suggestions to me, and recom- mendatioas to office, of the mos; ex traordinary character, that he never cotiM have conceived in a heali hy frame of mind. I should like to have known him earlier, when he was himself. If he had been elected President he never could have lived through his term, and the Government would really have been in the hands of B. Gratz Brown. "By the way," mid the General, "the indirect claims case, as presented in our case against England at the time of "" Alabama avtiitntMm, wm *m: of upedienefvXnm believed I&dnotthinkitwoSdlo I knew England wojdd not them, and that it vwU oom- ilicale our meritorious onse her something to eompla: When Mr. fish prepared our ease against England, ana brought it to me for approval. I objeoted to the indirect claim feature. Mr. Fish said he entire ly agreed with me, but it was necessary to consider Mr. Sumner. Mr. Sumner was at the head of the committee in the Senate that had charge of foreign af fairs. He was not cordial to the treaty; we had overruled one of his suggestions, namely, that our first condition of peaoe with England should be the withdrawal of her flag from the American conti nent. That suggestion was a declara tion of war, and I wanted peaoe, not war. Mr. Stimner had also laid great stress on indirect claims. Not to con sider them in our case, therefore, would offend him. Then, if we made a treaty without considering indirect claims, they would exist as an unsettled ques tion, and be used by demagogues as pretexts foi» embroiling us at some fu ture time with England. The surest way of settling the indirect claim ques tion was to send it to the Geneva tri bunal. The argument of Mr. Fish con vinced me, but somewhat against my will. I suppose I consented because I was sincerely anxious to be on good terms with Mr. Sumner, as I wanted to be with all of OUT leading Republicans" The Conservative Yankee. > L It must be accounted one of the not able facts in the history of the Anglo- Saxon race, and likewise in the annals of representative institutions, that the Government of the United States, formed originally for the needs and ex igencies of 3,000,000 of people, inhabit ing a narrow strip of seaboard, has re mained without any material change for nearly a century, and is found to work as well for a nation now fifteen times as numerous,* occupying a territory fifty times greater. Indeed, it may truthfully be said to work with less friction and more general satisfac tion' now than then. Its infancy was embroiled with controversies, respecting the interpretation of the constitution, so fierce that the Union was more than once in real danger before it had come of age. Some of the States had to be dragged into the Federal compact, and others were threatening to go out long before the institution of slavery became a rock of offense between North and South. The task of statesmanship during the first quarter of a century was not so much to make it work well as to make it work at all. At the present time no body looks upon a separation of the States as possible, and none desire it except a few straggling adherents of the lost cause, whose voice is as inef fectual and unheeded in the general movement as that of the irate Tory at the creation of the world, who demand - ed that chaos be preserved. How far this contentedness with ex isting institutions is to be ascribed to material prosperity, how far to the excellence of the institu- tions themselves, and how far to the inherited conservatism of the race, it would be futile to inquire. The coun- tiy has advanced in wealth with great rapidity, notwithstanding temporary checks, dnring the whole period of the national existence; and few people de sire to change their condition when they are well off. Apart from this the Americans are at heart, and, perhaps, without knowing it themselves, among the most conservative people in the world. Although nobody is readier than the Yankee to devise and adopt new modes of doing things, and while the earth does not contain a more ubiquitoas traveler or daring specula tor, nobody offers a more angry resist ance to anything in the nature of or ganic change.--Horace White, in Fortnightly Review. Lord Fairfax. Thomas, Lord Fairfax, whose remains lie under a marble slab in the Episco pal Church, in Winchester, Va., said when he heard of Washington's triumph at Yorktown: " Take me to bed, Joe; it is time for Fairfax to die!" He had looked upon Washington as his protege, and, being himself a staunch royalist, it cut him to the core to see the young Virginian champion the colonist's rights. Two or three traditions of this eccen- tric nobleman are preserved at Millwood, Va. He was a " fine Oxford scholar, a member of Addison's Club, and the author of two or three numbers of the Spectator" According to tradition, he left England disappointed in an affair of the heart and buried his sorrows in the furthest part of his " ancestral woods." Near the present village of White Post, near Millwood, and which derived its appellation from a large white post that was planted here by him as a guide to his dwelling, he built " Green way Court," and there spent the last thirty years of hie life, dying in the year of 1782, shortly after the surrender of Yorktown. Millwood is an inter esting place. It was so named from the two large stone mills^&rhicli Gen. Dan Morgan made his Hessian prison ers build there. The mills are still standing and grind 30,000 bushels of grain a year. Henry Harrison, Presi dent Harrison's private secretary, lives near there, as does Col. Richard Henry Lee. The latter is a grandson of Rich ard Henry Lee, the first signer of the Declaration of Independence, and a first cousin of Geo. Robert E. Lee. He is a lawyer of considerable repftte. Big Fees. Erskine, the leader of the English bar in his time, and one of the most brill iant lawers Great Britain ever produced, never received a greater yearly income than $60,000 and more than £5,000 in any one case. Sir James Scarlet, after wards Lord Abinger, a very successful lawyer, had an income certainly not to exceed Erskine's. The same is true of Garrows, another great English lawyer. Ballantyne received from the British Government a very large fee for going to.Cal mtta to try a murder case, but a large part of it was consumed in ex penses. America takes the lead iu big lawyer fees, and it is only a dozen years or so that our lawyers have been so lucky. Pinckney, Webster, Choate or any of our great lawyers in times past never dreamed of such extravagant bills. The first great fee ever known in this coun try was received by Clarkson N. Potter, in the foreclosure of the Canandiagua railroad, not many years ago. It is stated that he received $100,000 in thac ease. It is reported that Charles O'Con- or received $75,000 in the Jumel will case and $100,000in the Pairiah will esse. wf, -"'"/fxr FACL V. BOMtuL W M l w f a u i r f ' &r<!/leetion of fforacf*od*J - * Mtf Vaaa>, fumyUm. »I : Jum Hc4«a« buttwi, rtiiil ir&» of !«»*,« *&d aW «i<y 1im4 . A«ohu In ctrea of lMtlag a*a:ht Baaturia £ wtnda «mi ' Aad thott, o atrip, bear i Tb» fricejaMfwigt wi O triple wet* 1fce brazen baad* ttuct botuM of him who ciafo the do t|. i!e feu** not sfHe_ th the polar blaats and eweep •gqttag. spread bl» aitowy astU 7M6«, and fearleM croaned ' v .• . rtba that tyrant Kotos rulea; • • > 's ^ n'ft ?• * What, path «f 'tie&tli would he have shunned, WM* *' toMMtf ̂ Upon the main and to *11 dangers schooled, Had seen the monsters of tbe flood and watch*!! . The fretted aeaa that washed the stars and saw tempest-smitten cliff* by iighinliign notchedf All vaia was mad» Jove's salutary lavr , which placed repelling seaa between far Greece And our UMptrii, since godless barks f.epp scornful o'er tbe.wavee. Old customs oeaaa, And man, attempting all, no longer marks . i S The bounds assigned to frodu. Prometheus , From other realma stole living fire by charms'1' 1 »V"- ^ And ste 1th. Then famine and disease, alas! 1 '*>.* Embraced the earth with their in factious arnii" And direful Death advanced with rapid pace. ' -w»a' > On wings forbid to man, the darlngjareek Sfcsajedaa atry path throaghatwri&iled »Paear.~.fel •: And HereuleC caused Acheron to sbriak. There is no cliff too high for man to acale; 2* is " ' ; And folly leads us on to »ack the sky. P'l'M ' * n Our crimes wr»-at Jove still causes us to wiilii ^4_jerkshisjleadly lightning from on hi£h. ABIKOXON, Mass. ;/ •\Jh PITH AND POINT. Better late than haadijr ParATHOBISM ever. "THEN, 1 suppose, Miss Strongmind, you and Mr. Sparrc '* . •* l sparrow '* " 5[o, aar? woman &nd [.'••.it1-' kikulMiMs. 3? % it ^ ^ &..w Ate soon to be man and: wifef husband." An Irishman tells oi a fight in which there was only one whole nose left in the whole crowd, "and that belonged to the tea-kettle." THK fall of Adam was not not so hu~ miliating as it miget have been. There was nobody around to say, "Oome here, sonny, and I'll pick you up." " I AH astonished, my dear young lady, at your sentiments; you make me start 1" *Well, sir, I've been waiting £ for you to start for the last hour/' , Is THEBB a scientific man in the country who can tell, after a sock gets a hole in it, what becomes of the ma- terial that once took the "place of the aperture? _" Yoc just take a bottle of my medi- cine," ^ said a quack doctor to a con sumptive, "and you'll never cough \ again." " Is it so fatal as that?" gasped the consumptive. AN auctioneer was endeavoring to sell a fowling-piece, and, failing to get a bid, a bystander, who had read the pa pers, said: "Blow in the muzzle,and 7 it will go off." * THE man or woman who has never loved, hugged, kissed, played with, listened to, told stories to, or thorough* ly spanked a child has missed the car- ; dinal joys of life. RESTAURANT patron: " These sausages are 'ardly up to the mark." Waiter: "They ain't, eh? Well, d'ye expect Italian greyhound and thoroughbred Scotch terrier for two bits?" Two BAD little boys of Tarentum First borrowed Kome pine, and tben beat tm. 1 . When their pa took a a seat ^l'hey both beat a retreat, • As did likewise the feliow who lent 'ein. • "DON'T be afraid to praise your ser vants when they deserve it," remarks an exchange; but the minute the hus band tries that on the hired girl sh* has to hunt for another situation. A YOUNG man in .the "Answers to Correspondents" column in a New York paper asks: "How can I command a copious command of language?" We rH'> would suggest that he try sitting down ||| < on a tack. ' . A SOUTH AMERICAN plant has been found that cures bashfulness. It should be promptly tried on the man who leaves the hotel by the back window because he is too diffident to Bay good-by to the cashier and clerk. * "FULLNESS under the eye denotes language," we are told. So it does, and, we fear, bad language, too, at times. ' in a recent instance a fullness vnder - . the eye denoted that the posssessor had called a man a liar. A WASHERWOMAN, a regular and at tentive listener at chnrch, was com mended by her pastor. " Yes," she said, " after my hard week's work is dona, I < git so rested to come to church, and sit and think about nothin' I" A MAN out West has sued a newspa per for libel beeause it said he killed a man. The newspaper wants to <g>mpro- mise, and advises him to make "he re port true by killing somebody. He has accepted the advice, and is hunting around for the editor. "WHY, you'd better knook the door down. What do you want?" "Och, my darling 1 don't let me wake any of your family. I'm' just using your knocker to wake the people next door. I'm locked out, d'ye see, and they've niver a knocker." 1 • •' "MY darling," wrote a husband to hi* wife, '1 shall not be home till very late this evening. Do not wait for me. It's , for thy sake I work by the light of the pale, effulgent moon, as if it were the bright, dazzling sunshine." She didn't v •' wait; she went and got a detective and hunted him up. ABT received rather an awkward criti cism from a free-and-easy young man who met a seulptor in a social circle, and addressed him thus: "Er--er--so you are the man--er--that makes--er . --mud heads?" And this was the ar tist's reply: "Er--er, not all of 'em; I didn't make yours." < LIFE. > " We live but one life hat*,* he said; The soul needs love, the boay bread.n • So to the needy and the poor He gave, nor turned one from the door That asked admittance to his heart. Each, with a bleating, did depart. . ThiB man will find, when death arrives, He's lived a part of many livea.' ! i Km,. A CONFIRMED card-player became con vinced that card-playiug waPwrong-- perhaps because lie had a long run of bad luck, and perhaps for higher reasons. He broke the subject very gently to his companions when they were busy at their favorite game by saying, seriously, " Well, friends, I think after all that a great deal of valuable time is wasted in playing cards." His partner, who never dreamed of the depth of his remark, answered, " Yes, I've often thought so, too. Alow, just think, for instance, how much time we waste in shuffling." THE WOLJT AND THE MOU8K. A wolf into the wilderness one day Bore off a stolen sheep, and on the pray * Fed to the fuil. Then, finding he conld not Devonr it to the bone upos the s*v>t Resolved till supper time the rest to' keep, Beside it laid him down and went to aleep. Meanwhile the xuiell allured a neighboring To creep with caution from his tiny house. a particle oi meat he slyly stole, Then swiftly sped him back into his hole. Yet, spire of all h^s care, the wolf awoka, And into ci ie» and lamentations broke: " Halloo, there! Murder: Robbery! > W1U i Fetch the politet I'm ruined and undone. Contound these miscreant mloe! Oh shame ; ime? That any tour-legged thing should be a thief!" - jftwaf.- •• • - -- • • * . km.