nmwnox- . 1 liaadst Sfif"MmewMn en earth (MmwH Mi flMMr, tamd from 4 © MPBMIWH>MI*VI dm to me In Of ilTiiirtwli) my hudi hm need of Mtrong hands! that would have helped me ta my nead, never wonld have thrust me earetoM by; SKid hands! I know that many a loving deed Would oheer my weary day, were you but nlffh. I dretan, dear hand*, (hat flnce tfttn SSfPH - • -- • ~ ';1 «r i The • • »• jtf - - ." j f ft-. : <* W t • • (to of your touch may thrill my heart; Ito jojr of meeting exorcise my pain; JS'wr though again our lonely paths should part. more? Would not the clasp of hands aa- lock , The silent portals of the lips, and words-- dRwreionate words, so long repressed--then flook To speech -as breaks the dawn with song of birds? ai» dear! I oonld not bear It Sundered wide <Jur paths still lie. Why should we try to retch Across t.he gulf; why let the pent-up tide Of silent years break forth in useless speech? and so I pray, deaf hands, that touch of thine Shall ne'er, before sweet Death's triumphant !" hour, With soit caress touch cheek or hand of mine Until I lie too cold for passion's power. & Then once, just onoe, dear hands, when mine are cold. And stir not at y6nr coming, gently take The Trosen fingers in your living hold. Ah instant, clasp them for the old troth's sake. --Jessie F. O'Donnell, tn ltoston Tran script. A ROSE IN THE WILOEBHESS. ' /' „ BY HAT FORD LAlTBrfc. *'*. • 'V-'- ̂ iiy'liennleroM! my frail whiteroeet * ,Wv sweetest queen of flowers. *' •--Sa/iff,- The war was over. Arthur Turner had laid down his arms, and returned to his hoine in North Carolina. He -was a Southern gentleman of rank, and formerly of fortune, but the war had .swept away most of his property. It had taken from him also his only son, A lad of 17, who fought at his father's side, and fell in one of the last battles. And the unwonted exposures of the •war, the night marching, the bivouac •on rain-wet plains, had developed in Turner himself the hereditary con sumption, under which it was evident he v as sinking fast. He had come home to the old coun try house, where his wife an J daughter waited for him, only to leave it again. Jor his physician stated that his life could only be saved by a warmer •climate; he must go farther south. So he sold the old homestead, and "with his wife and daughter went to seek * new home in Lower Florida. They took with them two trusty servants, and traveled and removed their house hold goods in wagonB, and spent the nights in farm-houses, when they could be found, determining to purchase a farm near the Gulf and settle there. Arthur Turner was 38 years old, tall, pale, dark-eyed, unmistakably con sumptive in kis appearance; his"wife, a fair, gentle little matron; his daughter Rose, not yet 16, tall, slender and very lovely. Young as she was, she had known the weight of sorrow. But her brave young spirit rose,firm and elastic, under the burden. She had thrown off 3*er gay childishness and bloomed out, suddenly, but none the less sweetly, into a premature, yet perfect woman, earnest and gentle, tender and true. Her form was delicate in every outline; her features classically lovely; her foce, from the broad, sweet brow to the dimpled chin, white a? the drifted snow; no tinge of color in it; but her lips, noble and delicate, were "Like ^rabies, soft and rich;" her eyes dark and brilliant; her hair dark also, silken And half-curling. Manv days and nights they traveled through miles of sweet Southern scen ery. At first Turner'8 health seemed improving. He was quite cheerful; would laugh and talk in his old debon- .naire way, with his wife and daughter, •direct his servants, remark on the •scenery around him and speak to the •other travelers upon the roads, with frank good fellowship. But toward the -«nd of their journey, when passing through Florida, he seemed to become -weaker and more wan ; his great bright •eyes grew brighter; his cough deeper and more frequent. In those days JEfcose clung to him with desperate fond ness; and watched and ministered to Mm day and night. Mrs. Turner was as loving, but less thoughtful, and weakly, excitable and nervous. One morning they were passing through the dense, swampy woodlands •of Lower Florida, the awnings removed from the wagons to admit of the fresh, morning air. Turner had not yet ob tained the farm of which he was in quest. That morning, as the wagons rolled slowly over the causeway raised above the morass, a horseman rode by, and, lifting his hat, said, "Good morn ing, eenor, senoras." It scarcely needed the words and voice to tell that he was •of Spanish birth. He was a tall, splen- -didly-built oung man, his face dark and strikingly handsome; his eyes-- true Spanish ones--were at once soft *nd languid and brilliant and burning, hi v voice was pleasant, his manner pre possessing. "Good morning, sir," said Turner. ""Do you live near here?" "About a mile distant, senor," said "the stranger, courteouslv. He looked toward the wagon, his glance fell upon lilose, so sweet and slender, in her soft, |>lack dress, with her lovely face and -lifted, star-like eyes. He bent a gaze of such intensity upon her that a wave of color swept over her face; but neither her father nor her mother notioed the circumstance. "Then," said Turner, "will you direct me to the nearest farm-house. "We -wish to stop for refreshment and rest." "The nearest house is my own ;" said •the Spaniard, quickly. "May I hope to liave the honor of entertaining you?" Turner hesitated. "You seem like an invalid, sir," the Spaniard, cordially, "and yon will -need rest--it would be a pleasure to me, if you eould come to my house. Senoras, will you not add your pleas ure to mine?" "Arthur, tnv dear," said Mrs. Turner, Imguidiy, "I'm sure you need rest; -you're looking so tired. "I will accept your kind offer, sir," | said Turner, hastlv, "with manv thanks." " ^ place, only, to retnrn "tn&nks, said the Spaniard,gayly. His .English was good; his accent quite 3>ure. He rode on beside the wagon; .and A arnet told liim of the eiicmri- -Stances attendant upon his voluntary ex ile, and his plans for the future. His new acquaintance, who called himself •Gonzalez, listened with great attention; then rode on for some moments in si lence. Presently he said: "I have two farms cdjoining each other, of 150 acres each; if it would be of any convenience to you, I would sell you one of them. Toucan look at the land to da?--it is «» good, I think, asany in Florida." Turner thanked him, and readily fftomised to look at the land in ques tion. After riding with them for a mi'e fefther, the stranger, Siyingthat he wished to be readyto receive his guests, flristaped ahead and was soon out of Arthur Turner, after a few moment1 conversation with Rose and her mother, moved to the front of the wagon to apeak to the driver, to whom Gonzalez had given directions as to the road to be taken. "I am very much pleased with that young man," said Mrs. Turner to Rose, referring to Gonzalez. "Is he not handsome? And his manner is so pleas- ing." "I do not like him," said Rose, her voice trembling a little in spite of her effort at calmness. "I wish--oh, I wish we were not going to his house! Mam ma, I feel afr&id of him !" My dear! You,,who are always so strong-minded! And think, too, how Arthur needs rest!" Rose's faint smile, at the mention of her strong mind, faded into a look of loving pain, as she glanced at Arthur's thin, fragile figure and wan face; every thought of the Spaniard, to whom she felt an unreasoning aversion, was forgotten. The wagons passed on through the woods, until they reached a highway, cut through wide and fertile fields of rustling sugar-cane and blossoming cotton; along groves of orange and lemon-trees, and cool, pale-green ban ana-plants. Then into a sort of park or garden, where tall forest-trees had been left standing here and there, when the wood that covered most of the land was cleared away; tall pines, oaks and hickories, a few laurels and cedars were scattered about, and hardy flowering shrubs were standing side by side with the clambering vines of the native jasmine, and clumps of lilac-phlox in blossom, for the month was June. A pretty, wild, romantic- looking place, and in the midst of it stood a house of yellow-pine boards, neatly smoothed, but unpainted; a house built in an odd, rambling, pic* turesqne fashion. The young Spaniard was standing on the steps. He evame forward to meet his guests, and cour teously assisted, first Mrs. Turner, and then Rose, out of the wagon. The girl shrank from him, involuntarily, as his strong hand closed over hers. She felt that odd sensation that is called an "an tipathy" toward him. Gonzalez con ducted his guests into his house, which was comfortably, almost elegantly, fur nished. He explained that he lived alone, but had a great many friends who paid him visits, and for whose accom modation he had fitted up his rural home. Mrs. and Miss Turner entered the guest chamber indicated to them, and removed their wraps and bonnets. Then, joining the gentlemen in the hall, they were escorted into a pretty dining- room to luncheon. Afterward* they re turned to the hall, which opened on a verandah. Rose went to one of the windows, and stood looking out Her host came at once tojher side. He bent down over her, and talked to her in his soft, foreign voice. Rose glanced up at the dark, burning eyes above her, and then quickly looked away. Her eyes fell upon her father. With a low, half-breathed cry, she sprang to his side. She had seen the awful ghastli- ness of his face. As she reached him his head sank down upon the table at which he was sitting; a stream of crim son poured over the smooth surface of the table. The Spaniard lifted Turn er's attenuated frame in his strong arms I and carried him into an adjoining cham ber. "A hemorrhage!" fee said, in a low tone. Mrs. Turner burst into wild, hyster ical sobbing,j»nd clung in weak terror to her daughter. Rose gently put her mother aside, and, white and still as death, yet calm and collected, followed Gonzalez into the next room. He laid Turner gently on a conch, and, quickly getting a glass of water, held it to his lips. "Tell me what to do," said Rose, quietly. He gave her one swift glance of admiration. "What splendid nerve," he thought. But he only said, placing the.tumbler in her hand: "Hold this water to his lips; get him to drink it, if you can," and, rising, called sharply from the window to a servant without: "Go for the doctor; take my best horse, and ride for your life!" The day wore on; Turner lay wan and speechless; Gonzalez worked over him with untiring patience, and some skill--his wife and daughter were be side him. The doctor lived miles away. Once toward evening as Gonzalez was returning to the sick-room, he stopped at the half-open door; for he heard Turner's voice, faint, broken, but sin gularly calm. He was speaking to his wife. "Dear," he said, '"1 am--dying. I know it. There is something--I must --say to yon." Gonzalez, looking cau tiously in, saw the young matron hide her face in the coverlet, her shoulder shakiug with her sobs. An expression, of wistful pain, crossed Turner's face. He laid his thin hand on hi^ wife's bowed head and murmured, so low, that the Spaniard could barely catch the sounds: "My little Rose, you must listen to me then." "O, not now, papa! Not now, mv darling!" Rose pleaded. "You must net talk now, while you are so weak. You shall tell me to-morrow." # "To-morrow ?" Turner echoed faintly. "No, dear, listen now! I cannot say manv more words. The--money, Rose --all our money, except what your mother has about her, is in a little tin box in the wagon, the one we came in. When I leave you--you and your mother must go back to our home and friends. There will be money enough for the present. You understand?" "I understand, papa!" Rose answered, bravely. "Do not speak any more, now; try and sleep!" Gonzalez turned into the verandah. Yes, this man was surely dying 1 And, when he was dead, his wife and daughter would go back to their home; and the face that had risen before him like a brilliant star, the voice that had stirred every pulse within him, the girl whose presence made his heart bound and touched every chord within his passion ate and impulsive nature, would be lost to him. Ah, he might follow her-- would he find her heart-free? O, to keep her with him at any price! Then a thought came to him that made his dark cheek oolor with iuingled triumph and shame. Yes. there was a way to keep her! The money of which the dying man had spoken was to be the means of taking Rose and her mother away from Florida. To remove those means, to offer a home to the helpless widow and her daughter, to win Rose's love by her gratitude, if in no other way, (for she already seemed averse to him), to repay to them tenfold what he would have taken from them, for he was a rich man. That was his plan. With a rapid step he strode out toward, the wagons, and sprang into the foremost MM. He box, $Rto his mm apartment. Xt»unlocked* ̂ containing books, threw the umes oat won the floor, laid the money at the bottom of the chest, the books upon it; then, locking the chest carefully, he slung the key upon his watoh-chain and left the room. It done now --the deed of dishonor! A man's step on the verandah --the doctor had come. He looked grave on seeing his patient. It was not a hope ful case, he told Gonzalez, but he would do all he could. He administered an anodyne to Arthur, and ordered perfect quiet in the sick-room. The night was passing with weary slowness; a shaded taper burned slowly in the room where Arthur Turner lay, watched by the doctor, Gonzalez, his wife and daughter. After midnight the kind physician tried to persuade the two ladies to rest for a short time; it was plain that the frail little wife, soon to t>e a widow, was exhausted by grief. She yielded helplessly to the persua sions of the doctor, Gonzalez and Rose, and tried to rest in a room adjoining tint in which her husband was, and quietly took a sedative draught pre pared for her by the doctor. Rose, with gentle firmness, declined resting; so they were forced to let her sit there at her father's side, white, silent and motionless as a small effigy, and, though they did not know the agony of the grief that her lovely, quiet face concealed so well, the two men who sat there in that dim room watched her pityingly. An hour or two passed in this way, then they saw Arthur Turner open his luminous dark eyes) that looked trangely misty then. He did not look at the two men who sat near him, nor at the girl, his daughter, who longed for some sign of recognition, of love, from him; he did not look for his ab sent wife, nearest and dearest of all the world to him. But his sweet, misty eyes looked upward; and he clasped the wasted hands that lay on his breast, and murmured something, but neither of the three listeners round him caught the words. Silence. The night waned; it passed into the dawning. The early light that crept into that room, showed the doctor in his chair, drowsy, almost dozing; it was natural, perhaps, for one of his pro fession, accustomed to sit beside the dying, despite his kind pity for his un interesting patient; Gonzalez, bending forward, gazing with passionate ear nestness upon Rose; she, poor child! thinking only of her father, as if they two were all alone there, aad the frag ile form upon the couch. By-and-by an early sunbeam, a little strip of gold, came through the white window-curtain and rested on Turner's shadowy face. His gentle breathing stopped. Gonzalez stepped forward; the doctor Btarted from his chair; Rose, with a dreadful terror in her heart, stooped and kissed her father's lips, and, as she felt them stiff and cold, she slid down upon the floor quite unconscious. Gonzalez lifted her in his arms and carried her out into the cool morning air. And theret on the verandah, he dared to lay one kiss upon her senseless lips, without a thought of the dead ones they had just kissed. It was October. Arthur Turner's widow and daughter were living in Car los Gonzalez' country house, the Span iard having built a cottage on the same rambling principles upon the adjoining farm for his own accommodation. He had bought at a liberal price the widow's wagons and horses and received from her a year's rent for his house. The simple-minded little woman took greatly to Gonzales, and earnestly wished for "a match" between the Spaniard and her daughter. But Rose treated their benefactor with courteous, distant hauteur, much to her mother's vexation. Rose taught a little class of the children of the rough farmers, who lived contentedly in their log cabins, and the small foresters began to grow gentler in their ways, to learn to read and cipher and to adore the sweet- voiced, beautiful girl who taught them. Mrs. Turner took in sewing work from the mothers of these children, who found the ax and hoe more congenial than the needle. In this way the mother and daughter earned their live lihood. It was October, and a fair, sunny afternoon, and Rose was taking her way down the brambly woodpath that led to the shore of the narrow, blue bay that flowed into the land from the Gulf, which lay a mile distant from Rose's Florida home. She wore her trailing mourning robes; her figure was slighter, slimmer, than ever, but her step was light and her eyes spark ling, and a slight flush upon her satin- soft cheek. Though deep grief comes to us, we cannot be always unhappy, thank Heaven! And this girl was very young, and the woodland world about her very sweet; so, with tripping feet and a song on her lips, she passed down to the bay shore. Upon the sand, with the b'ue water lappiug romnd it, a tiny boat was anchored. Rose stepped into it, and seating herself in the stern be gan reading a volume of Shakspeare which she had brought with her. Presently she heard a step on the sand; it was that of Gonzalez. May I come in?" he asked, with a smile; but without waiting for an answer he stepped into the skiff and sat down at Rose's side. "What are you reading?" he asked, glancing at the book upon her lap. "'Romeo and Juliet'? Lay aside their love-story, sweetheart, for your own and mine!" Taking the book, he laid it aside, and drawing so near to Rose that his $ps almost touched her hair, he whispered: "Need I tell you that I love you? Or have you seen it in my eyes, my sweet, white Rose? I have come to look for the answering light in yours!" And drawing nearer still, he slipped his arm around her waist. Rose started to her feet. But Gon zalez rose also, and held her hand firm ly in his. "Will you let me go, Mr, Gonzalez?" said Rose. "I wish to." "You shall go if you will, sweetheart, and I will go with yeu --when yon have told me that you love me." "I do not love you." "Yon do not love me? Ah, try to, Rose 1 See, I love yon so I would lay dovin my life for yon ! Give me » little love for my whole heart. No? Then give me your hand, my fairest, and 1 will win your love afterward, Heaven helping me!" "I cannot," said Rose; I cannot! I am sorry you--love me--because I can not return your love. I am so sorry." Her voice faltered, as if tears were coming. * "Sorry?" he echoed m a strange tone, tightening his clasp on the little trembling hand. "Sorry to leave the world a desert to me, and living itself a titter torment! To think that a eold- ! hearted child should have the power to Charming Hospitality of the Dutch Boers. When a traveler arrives at a habita tion, he alights from his horse, enters the house, shakes hands with the men, kisses the women and sits down without further ceremony. When the table is spread, he takes his place among the family without waiting for an invita tion ; this is never given, on the suppo sition that a traveler, in a country so thinly inhabited, must always have an appetite for something. Accordingly, "What will you make use of?" is gener- erally the first question. If there be a bed in the house, it is given to a stranger. If none, which is frequently the case among the graziers of Groar Reynet, he must take his chance for a form, or bench, or a heap of sheepskins, among the rest of the family. In the morning, after a solid breakfast, he takes his sopie, or glass of brandy, or ders his slave, or Hottentot, to saddle the horses, again shakes hands with the men and kisses the women, wishes them health, and they wish him a good journey. In this manner a traveler might pass through the whole country. They Apologized. While Mr Kasson was Minister to Vienna some American girls were in' suited by two American officers on the streets. Finding out the names of the offenders, they went to the American Minister and told him their story. He reported the matter to the Minister of Wat, who sent for the officei0 and in formed them that they must either make the most profound apologies to the parents of the young ladies or be dismissed from the service. The young gentlemen preferred to apologize,whioh they did, and were sent out of Vienna to the frontier, where they bad ample tune to reflect on their conduot, and to discover that their amusements had bet ter not include the annoyance of self' respecting American women. LIVEB should be plaoed in hot water before cooking, after being aliped and then broiled or fri*L so! But yon shall you be mine! »CM my heartstrings anoh<jmtlikiIl?" "I •nswwed you," said Rose gentlv. *1 will tell you again, plainly, % j* kindest, bes t, most honor able Idott>tlove you; I will never marrvyon, I--" She stopped half- frightened* lor the Spaniard's face was purple with passion. "You woold not marry as to -safe your ow# life?" he asked. 4 "I wonld not." "I take yon at your* word!" he said; and before she could guess his meaning, he sprang from the boat, and taking out a pocket-knife, out the anchor-rope j then with all his powerful strength, ht gave the boat a push that sent it flying down the bay.. The tide was going out; the boat wefit with it. Gonzaled dashed up the wooded bank and out ol sight. The boat went surely and swiftly drifting out towards the gulf. Thert were no oars; no possibility of Rosv! making her voice heard on the shore • There was one faint hope; that of being picked up by some vessel that might chance to tie in the Gulf. Or Gon zales might relent and come after her. One of these tilings might happen; but it seemed far likelier that Rose would die a lingering death on the water. On--on the boat drifted, until Rose knew that she had left the bay and was in the great green Gulf. She bowed her head upon her hands to hide the beautiful majesty of the waters, and still felt her boat rocking, gliding, courtesying out. When she looked up, her heart gave a great bound, for she saw a whit$ sail bending over the waves, in the same direction in which the current was carrying her little skiff. And, as she drew nearer, she saw a graceful yacht--a jolly-boat at its side --several figures on deck. Then, ris ing, the girl held up her handkerchief and waved it. Ah! who would see her poor little signal of distress? She waved it until her arms ached with weariness. Then she saw the jolly- boat of the yacht let down--men de scending into it--the flash of an oar! It was coming over the waves straight to ward her. She sat down again with folded hands--half overcome by the sudden transition from despair to hope. The boat drew near, a trim little craft, rowed by two stout sailors. And in the stean, holding the tiller, sat a tall young man, with bright blue eyes. How joy fully the sunshine sparkled on the foam about the jolly-boat's bows. How like b'quid gold it lit up the young steers man's chestnut curls! "Rose's eyes filled with happy tears. They looked all the more like stars for that, and her blue-eyed rescuer must have no ticed how like a white rose she looked, and how lovely in her soft black dress, with her slim hands lying like lilies in her lap. He looked at her in evident bewilderment, but lifted his sailor hat, saying: "Can I be of any assistance to you?" Rose briefly told her story, omitting all mention of Gonzalez. The young man assisted her into his boat, which bore the elegant title of the "Saucy Polly," and, offering her a seat his side, steered by her direction toward the point from whioh Rose had started, her own little skiff being fast ened behind. The next morning a servant brought Rose a crumpled, barely-legible note, which read as follows: Rose, com? to me! You need not fear me now. I am weaker than an infant, and lying betw en life and death. Come, for heaven's sake, to ,, ^ CUBLOS GONZALEZ Rose oalled her mother, and, taking the frightened and reluctant little widow with her, at once followed the bearer of the note, who said that Gon zales had accidentally wounded himself while loading his pistol. Rose found him, attended by a doctor and ap parently near death. But he told her how he had ever been subject to un governable fits of passion, in one of which he had been on the previous evening; how he had attempted to undo his sin by bringing her back, but had been too late to do so. And he told her of the money-box and its hiding- place. For two days Rose and her mother nursed the dying man. On the the third day he whispered to Rose, "Pray; I used to pray when I was a child, before my mother died." And as she repeated the "Prayer for the Dead" he followed the words. Then he said, wistfully, "I could die more easily holding your hand, Rose." So he held it and restfully closed his eyes. When he opened them, his mind had wandered to the days of his boyhood; the sinful man had "become even as a little child." He said, the words sound ing like a far-away chant. "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done." He was dead. His Father's will was done. * * * Six months later the bine-eyed steers man of the Sauoy Polly came back to the Florida wild for tne sweet, white Rose. A. "<&•§" M a ftlawptm t^ar Tli iiiinmrfur' [From Peck's «an. J "You seem frit have a terrible cold," said a wholesale grocer to one of his traveling men, «s the man oame into the office and sat down his gripsack and took out his handkerchief to sneeze on. "Did yon aleep with your feet out the window lasipright?* "No, but I might as well have slept out in a snow-bank. Escuse me while I sneeze a half a string," and the travel ing man put his elbow upon the win dow of the office partition and "kerchooa for about five minutes, his nose becoming red and his eyes weep ing as though he had lost a relative. "By gum, I would like to have old Pullmah by the neck for about a minute. This is the fourteenth cold I have caught this winter in sleeping- cars." "Well, you don't suppose George Pullman is going to give you a bed to sleep in and insure you against catch ing cold for $2 a night, do you?" asked the wholesale grocer. "Pullman couldn't lay up anything to build towns and eleven-story blocks if he did that. What you kicking about, anyway?" "Oh, I don't kick on the accommoda tions in a sleeping-car, and it is cheap epough. I have heard jokes a million times about sleeping-car pillows getting lost in a man's ear, but I always found the pillows b;g enough. I have heard people complain about blankets being too short at both ends, but the blankets are all right, and you can get an extra one or a dozen by asking for them. What I kick against is Pullmati's using a colored man for a thermometer in a a car. He takes a colored man who has been brought up in New Orleans, for instance, and puts him on a car up North here, and the human barometer will make the temperature of the car as near that of New Orleans as possible. He will get the heat up to a hundred, and we thrash around and kick off the clothes and roast, and that colored man sits by the stove with the fever and ague. You tell him to open a ventilator and he goes and opens the draft of the stove. Now, last night when I got in the car it was a Turkish bath, and I kicked off the clothes and dreamed I was dead and had gone to Gehena. I could see the devil with a toasting fork with Demo crats on the prongs, dipping them into the lake of fire and brimstone, and then he would set them on some hot coals to cool off, and he would spear some Republicans, and give them a dip in the fire. He was the most impartial individual I ever saw. I could see, in my dreams, trav eling men from Chicago, that I always knew were bad men, swimming around in the lake, holding up the thousand- mile tickets they had bought of scalp ers, waiting for the conductor' of the summer resort, train to punoh their fare out, and then they would dive down into the fire to swim a match with some drummer from St. Louis, and want me to act as umpire. It was all just as plain to me as could be. After I had been in hades about a couple of centuries, and was cooked brown on one side and rare on the other, that lake of fire and brimstone began to cool off, and finally it froze over entirely, and the doomed people were on skates, trying to run down a lot of polar bears, and in the distance I could see Arctic expeditions frozen in the ice, and the survivors eating what seemed to me boot-heels, or railroad sandwiches. The dream was as natural as could be, and I imagined I was traveling for an ice-house, and oiled my hair with ice cream, and when I went up to the bar to take a drink there was frozen punch and whisky ice. I was usiqg a hammer to break a drinjc of whisky off an ice berg, when the hammer slipped and I run my head against the whisky iceberg and woke up. Well, by gum, I was in the Bleeping-car, with my bald head against the window, and my feet out in the aisle in the nickel-plated cu&pidore, and the car was colder than a refrig erator. I was stiff all over, and I got up and staggered to the end of the car, and what do you think I found?" "Oh, I don't know. You probably found a water tank. That's what a fel low always wants to find when he gets up in the night in a sleeping-car, with a bad case of whisky thirst," said the wholesale grocer, as he looked at an item on th^a traveling man's expense ac count, which read, "miscellaneous sun dries, $11.65." "What did you find in the end of the car?" "Why, I found that coon rolled up on the baok seat, in six blankets, fast asleep, the fire gone out and both doors open, and he was shoring for all that was out, while the oar was going at forty miles an hour across the prairie. Weil, I was mad. I took all the blank ets awav from him, and covered the coon with a piece of oil cloth off the floor, and took a fifty-pound piece of ice out of the tank and laid it on his chest aud wrapped his arms around it, and shut the doors and went to bed. Pretty soon I heard the colored man begin to talk in his sleep. He said, 'gw»v fum dar wid dem cold feet. I dun tole you never put dem frigerator cars of yours no where near me. Take dem right away, or dere's g >in' to be a divorce, on de ground of cruelty to animals.' Then the coon woke up and said if he had a 'raazer' he would knife the man that put that ice on him, and pretty soon I heard him building a fire. Now, what I claim is that George Pullman should have a thermometer in every car, and men enough to keep the temperature about right, and not use a oolored man for a thermometer." And the travel ing man sneezed a little more, and then explained the $11.65 charge for sundries. indicated npon *M|ttii(in previous century, under th« n*n» of wary, or "wsna bath"; while tho stream upon whioh Ctarlsbtfd. town is built has a name much oidsr tlUHl ***** Its meaning settles the question of the antiquitv of the springs. The *Tepl" means "the tepid stream," the Word's etymology being the same in English and in Slavic. But the Emperor Charles, if he did not discover the place, he at least gave it its vogue; he frequented Carlsbad and built a palace there in 1358. Ever since that time it has been known as the most efficacious of the many springs in German-speaking countries.--Titus Mwmon C'oan, in Harper's Magazine. Carlsbad. Carlsbad is an Austrian town of 12,000 inhabitants and 900 dwelling- houses, situated in the Northwestern corner of Bohemia, and near the front ier. It is a thriving manufacturing place; but a main source of its pros perity is naturally the mineral waters. More than '20,000 guests came last year (1882) to try their virtues. The s rfam of visitors has been flow ing during centuries of summers to Carlsbad--ever since the thirteenth century at least. Later than this the springs received their present name from Charles IV., Emperor of Austria and King of Bohemia. The local legend is that he discovered them in the; year 1858 while on a hunting excur sion. A dog, too eagerly pursuing a deer, fell into one of the hot springs; his yelping brought the Emperor first upon the spot, where the thermal' water, wreathed with clouds of vapor, pulsed out of the cleft of the rock. The huntsmen, rut-hing in after their leader, named the place Charles' Bath, and Carlsbad it has been called to the pres ent day. The story is a pretty one, and may be substantially true.; but as to the discovery of the springs, they were well known long before the time of the imperial hunter. Their site Is Rats as Food. Why do we not more frequently fol low the snakes' example, and eat the rodents that so despitefully use us? I don't suppose that many people would care about adding the denizens of our city sewers to their menu; but what rational objection can there be to good, wholesome, barn-fed rats? They know what is good for themselves, depend upon it, and do not feed on offal and nastiness when better things are to' be had. We eat ducks, and pigs, and crabs, and all sorts of fish, in compari son with which the rats are bright and blameless patterns of dietetic morality. I have tasted such, caught with snares down in a Kentish hop-garden--every one of them, no doubt, in its well nour ished maturity representing the materi als of a great many loaves of bread, and cakes, and pie-crusts, with some neighboring farmer or miller as its creditor for no small sum in the aggre gate; the flesh was as white as that of a chicken, and the flavor--well, I am afraid the highest praise I can award is that they had no flavor, and were there fore unobjectional. But then I had to cook them myself, no servant would touch them, and, as my knowledge of the culinary art did not even include at that period those rough details with whieh my subsequent wanderings have perforce brought me acquainted, the process consisted simply of flaying, de capitation, curtailment, excavation, and twirling them in front of the grate by means of a bent pin and a piece of cord. Dressed with as much care as is be stowed on a snipe or a'wood cock, I am persuaded that they would be by no means an unworthy adjunct to the ta ble. In China they are exposed for sale everywhere, split open, dried, pressed, and finely powdered with a finely-ground white bark, looking like haddocks, as they hang in long strings over the vender's stall. We get tinned beef and mutton from all quarters of the globe, tinned oysters from America, tinned ox-tongues from the Platte, tinned kangaroo from Australia, why don't our Celestial friends send us their prepared rats, as they do their ov rated birds'-nest soup, in tir>« ? The Rev. B. Vernon, ih his "Early Recollections of Jamacia," tells us that the black slaves were in the habit of roasting and eating all the rats they could catch. I should think, however, that such a practice must have been ex ceptional or limited to a particular dis trict, since the negroes in these climates live principally upon food and vegeta bles, and if pressed by want of animal food, would find it, one would think, without restoring to vermin, in the birds, fish, molluses, crustaceans and edible reptiles with which the regions abound. But it seems extraordinary that a prejudice against this ever-pres- ent supply of fresh meat should exist at sea, even among crews who are rot ting with scurvy bred of salt provisions, while the rats are quitoly fattening on their peas and buscuit. Several Arctic voyagers have given us an account of the benefit derived from their consumption. Dr. Kane taught his men to shoot them with blunt arrows, then boil them, mince them up, roll the meat into balls with melted tallow, and keep them frozen until they were re quired. But although he himself attri butes his comparative immunity from scurvy to their use, in most of these in stances their value as food seems only to have been recognized when they were in imminent danger of starvation, or suggested by the amusement of hunting the little poachers during the long night.--All the Year Round. a prize fight "Allow me to help A TKXAS horse thief knows what" it means when he is serenaded br a strins band. ® Waffit are two tramps like common time in music? When they are two beats at a bar. A MAN needn't flatter himself that he is working like a beaver simply he throws in a lot of unnc damus. leoessary Tapering Off. "I don't feel well, doctor," explained the ta>ll man, who looked a little pale, "I think something's gone wrong with my innards or my head." "I guess it's only the spring fever," smiled the doctor. "I don't think there's much out of the way with you. Where do you feel badly?" "In my stomick," replied the tall man, somewhat reassured by the doctor's manner. "And I'm pretty nervous. Have been ever since I came East." "Where do you belong?" asked the doctor, examining the patient's tongue. "I come from Montana," said the tall man. "Do you smoke?" "I was a powerful smoker, but they told me to quit, and so I knocked off a month ago." "Drink?" "I think that's .Wliere the trouble is. I was well on to that habit, but the doctor told me I'd got to give it up, and I've been breaking off gradually." "Couldn't you give it up all at once?" asked the doctor, gravely. "They told me I'd better not. Said it might kill me, so I've been tapering off, and I think I am tapering to fast. If I drank more it would be better for me." "How much do you drink now?" "Yesterday I had a quart of vitrol and to-day I've stowed about a pint of prussic acid. Perhaps I ought to take more!" "Great heaven, man, what do yon take that foi'?" demanded the almost petrified doctor. "Why, you see, I'm tapering off from Montana * whisky, and them was the lightest I could flfnd. What'd you ex pect a man to take, poison?" And when he went away he wasn't half as nervous as the doctor he left behind him.--Brooklyn Eagle. Determined to Get an Education. Cap. Pratt, who is in charge of the training school for Indian youths at Carlisle', Pa., tells of an Indian lad 18 years old, who appeared at that school one day, having found his way half across the continent in search of an education. He had $2.75 on starting from hi* home. That brought him across the Mississippi river. Then, by walking four days together and getting an occasional ride on a freight train, he made the rest of the long journey. He sold his Indian ornaments for $2.25 to give him bread on the way. Coming over the Allegheny mountain range the Indian's worn-out moccasins were no protection to his feet against the snow, and he bartered his blanket for a pair of shoes. At last he reached the Car- li&le dJMi foe. TALK about eating sixty quail in thirty days, we know a m«s who has lived on a single lark for a longer period than that. "IT isn't because I oare about a little work now," said a lazy tramp, "but I am afraid if I once begin to earn my own living I shall always be expected to do it." THK new discovery ttiat kissing cures freckles may be all right, but the diffi culty with a youth who has the com plexion of an African leopard is that he can't get any girl to kiss him- - HENRY WABD BEECHKB says a baby is a nuisance. Without telling Henry he is wrong, we will say that in this, as. in other respects, the child is but tiiie father to the man.--Lowell Citizen. >• A MAN may be a day-dreamer; he may take no interest in every-day affairs in the busy world, he maybe as a drone in a hive, but just step on his pet cotfn and see how quickly he will wake up.^ THE guests have dined, and the host hands round a case of cigars. "I don't smoke myself," he says, "but you'll find them good; my man steals more of them than any other brand lever had." SAID a railroad engineer to an Irish man whose cow had been lamed: "But she didn't get out of the way when I rang the bell." "Faith, thin," said Pat,, "ye didn't shtop when she rang her bell naytliur." A COLORADO man was recently ltill^>d while gathering a scuttle of coal in his backyard. After a few heart-rending occurrences like this, wives will begin to learn their household duties. Drummer. , 1V A REGIMENT of soldiers passing through Beaune, France, and being) about to traverse a forest infested with robbers, the considerate Mayor of thej place offered them an escort of four of the town police. JUST as an Indiana clergyman pro nounced a couple man and wife he fell to the floor and expired. It snapped his heartstrings to thiuk that in about a year he might be summoned as a wit ness in a divorce case. A YOUNG man in Jacksonville, Ore., has written a poem on "A Fly's Baclur This is the greatest achievement of tne age, because it is no 1 more than once in six centuries that a fly is found which will keep quiet long enough to allow of a poem being written on its back.--Sari Francisco News-Letter. Two BOLD men, says Figaro, were discussing different subjects. shouldn't like to have been in the place of Damocles," said one. "It is stupid to dine under a sword." "Well," said' the other, "I don't care anything about the sword. I shoulfl be afraid the which held it up might fall into mv •UK twwENTY-Fivx years ago a young Philadelphian wife nearly cried her eyes out because she could not afford to scrape from her walls the unsightly old-fashioned paper, full of peacocks and .pelicans and things, and put a nice, neat, new style in its place. Now her married daughter is weeping because she can't afford to pat the peacocks and pelicans back. Life is fuU of trouble. A LITTLE bright-eyed boy, upon hear ing his father read the story of Joan of Arc, was greatly moved by her sad tri als; but when the part was reached where she was about to be burned to death at the stake, the poor little fellow could not contain himself any longer, but sobbingly clutched his parent's arqgi, and, with big tears running down iiis plump little cheeks, cried, "But, pa^- papa, wh--e--re were the police ? " A LADY of mature age is consulting her lawyer about instituting proceed ings for divorce. "I perceive," says the lawyer, "you wish to obtain a separation because of his cruelty." "I wouldn't have minded so much being beaten," sobs the lady, "if he had beaten me in an ordinary manner, but he didn't--the scoundrel didn't, sir, ho used to thrash me with--" "With? Compose yourself, my dear madame^" "With my poor, dear first husband's cane!" jlfgfv THE following lines may be repeated, as a keepsake for all who expect at aij^, v future period to teach our expressive language to the heathen: "Write, we know. Is written right, When we see It written write. Bat when we see it written wr]g)Mt We know It Is not written right. * For write, to have it written right, Mast not be written right, nor lila Nor yet mast it be written wrishtu ' Bat write, for so 'tis written right. What a Cold World This la. "Is this Thomas O'Rourke?" "No, sir; this is Thomas O'Sullivan.*' "Well, you look as if you had beej| drunk for a week." ^ ^ Yes, sir, but my looks deceive yo I wasn't drunk more than five h and it wasn't my fault at all." "I suppose some one held yon poured whisky down your throat?' "Oh, no, sir. Yon see, I found a bot tle in a lumber-yard. The contents smelt and tasted like whisky, but I doubted it. Two or three of my friends said it was rum, but I doubted that. 1 knew it wasn't brandy, and I felt it wasn't port wine, and so I drank tb| stuff to see if it was champagne.* "And was it?" "Alas! no. I think it was some the soothing syrup called forty-rod. haven't felt so used up in a dozen years." "Next time yon find such a bottle re member what sent yon up for thk#" days." • "Is that the time?* "Itis." ' *?*»'•*>; ' • • - • "It's tough, your honor, and if I should die up there you may expect' that my spook will stand at the foot your bed every night for a year. LanK o' cats! but what a oold world is !V. --Detroit Free Press. THK northernmost placo in the world where rye and oats mature is at Kengis, in the Swedish province of Norrobotten, forty-nine miles to the north of the Polar circle, whereas the northern most spot where oorn is grown is at Muoniovara, ninety-eight miles to th% north of the circle. ^ THK pawpaw tree is hardy and pro* duces well in many parts of Canada. It is likely that it could bo cultivated t|r advantage in all Western States ana Territories. Most parsons prefer 9»ws to bananas. " ̂ A