T, tilC. MMe aMTttiMnr. ILLINOIS OSA* OI.D »ONC# i snatch of ancient »on<*. ®i» kiiinMilieo live ao lonjff * yivlof oath? WJnas of rnyme » tAg^Uf Oomutbedep:hs of tim* Teilto* BMhlaf »tr ngeorrare, « • • • » ; 1 •Onie Mle hour, : : * « _ - - _ _ - _j oorae thy lasting' power? j, By wl>at turn of rhythm or phrase, Bjr what subtle, Careless grace Can thymus 0 chnrui our ears Altar Rail three hundred years?; Utti#Knr, since thou were bor® 4 * ** IB Ilia Berot mat on morn, MU ,, 'How much of great hus passed «Wliy, ' Bbattored or f slow decay! Stately piles in ruins orum'Ied, Lordly bou*es lost or humbled. _ IfeMtoM and realms in dn kness hurltfl, Hewe 4an forever i urlod, W sast schemes of statesmen spun, ; Tiina has seen .thorn, one by one, uk9 theIfeaves fit autumn fall-- , A little song outlived them ait. *,v': "Iker? were mijbty scholars theft «' ; With the slow, laborious pen PlUturjip their words of earni Men of •olid, deep discern! ng, WJd'ty famous as they tfiu/ht Sr8t*BIS of conncrted thought. oNtjwd for all future ages: flow the cobweb binds fcnelr All unread their volumes Ho Mouldering so peaceably. Coffined thoughts <>f co(lined melt; Never more to stir !im<in In the passion and the strife, ;«f In the fleeting form^ of life: Ail their force and meaning irone \ - Aa the streams of thought flows OB. Arc thou weary, little song. Flying thro Jgh the world so IOIIBK.^ Can t thou on thy fairy pinions "*. • Cleave ihe future's dark dominioit' And with music soft and clear Charm the yet unfash onod ear, Minjrttngwith the ihmjrs unborn When perchance another morn Great as that w.nieh gave i hee birth Dawns upon t ie changing earth? : it may be so, for all around. With a heavy crashing sound, L'ke the ice of polar t-eas Melting in the summer breeae, 8if ns of c.iangc are grathering fait. Nations breaking with their past l JMiptr 1 * oil Ihepu'se of thought is beating q The lamp < f faith begins to fl.cket, U he anc eut. reverence d cavs With forms and types of other dava: An l old belief# grow faint and few As knowledge molds the world anew, And scatters far and wide the seeds Of other hopes ana oth r creeds: And all In vain we sea.* to trace The fortunes of the coming race, 8ome w.th fear and some wi:h hoj None can cast its horoscope. Vaporous lamp or r sing star, - •*• ' Many a light is seen afar. And dimthapeless figures loom All around us in ihe gloom-- Forces that may rise and reign As the old ideails wane. Landmarks of the human mind. One by onn are eft behind. And a subtle change is wrought In themold and cast of thought, Mcdes of reasoning pass away, fTypes of beaut.- lose their sway. Creeds and causes that have mado Many noble lives, must fade; And the wor 1# that thrilled of old . Now seem hueless, dead. and cold:' Fauoy's rainbow tints are flying. Thoughts, like men, are slowly dying; All things perish, and tin- strongest Often do not las. the longest; The st ttely ship is seen n > more. Ihe fragile skiff attains the shor«i >« And whl'e the great ani wise dej^r , And h11 thpir trophies pass away. Some sudden thought, some careless rhyme 8til floats above the wrecks of ttnie. --W. E. a Leckev. Miss PENELOPE, SENIOR, Dr. Hardy was Miss Penelope's fa ther, and Miss Penelope was aunt to Penelope Hardy, Jr. They had lived nearly all their lives in the same old- fashioned house, and Miss Pecelope had never been away from it for one night even. There had been a large family of them, bnt only Miss Penelope and the Doctor remained--he peculiar and somewhat of a martinet; she, with a simple, self-sacrificing nature and a strict New England conscience. At last the Doctor grew too feeble to practice any longer, and, after some de mur, sold out to Dr. Joel Sherburne, a shrewd, energetic Maine man, who set up his shingle a little way off, and soon extended the business. He was cheer ful as woll as skillful, and people were quick to find it out. Still, he could not afford to despise Dr. Hardy's many years of experience, and was very glad sometimes to ask the old man's advice, which gratified him and consequently pleased Miss Penelope. It was such a break in Ihe monotony of their lives to have this big cheery man to come in and sit an hour with them, bringing a breath of the outer weald with him, for his talk was not always of medicine; busy as he was, he found time to read the magazines, and many a new idea and pleasant thought found its way to Miss Penelope's half-starved brain. They made a cosy group around the open hearth. The two Doctors talked aloud and argued to their hearts' con tent, while Mitts Penelope sat on the opposite side of the hearth and knitted or darned and listened. She was full of kindly impulses, and observing that Dr. Sherburne's driving gloves were out at the fingers, she timidly offered one evening to mend them for him, and •did BO while he sat there; another time, in some mysterious way, Bhe discovered that there was great holes in his overcoat pockets, which also received attention, and gradually the new Doctor began to have a quiet, friendly feeling for the unobtrusive little woman. Affairs were in this shape when Pen elope, Jr., came home. In a fit of grati tude for having been nursed through a severe illness, her mother had named her after Miss Penelope; but, as the gratitude wore away, it was corrupted to Pansy, "a silly, furbishy name," said her grandfather, who never called her by it, though every one else did, even Dr. Sherburne, although he liked the old-fashioned name best, and al ways thought of her by it. Her mother had died years before, and her father was in California making monev, so the girl spent her summers with her moth er's people and her winters in the old homestead. * She was a happy, winsome young thing, and brightened up the old house wonderfully. She and Dr. Sherburne madeiriends at once. Dr. Joel dropped in quite often now, and a close observer would have noticed that he wore his Sunday clothes almost every evening, was. much more particular in his gen- eral appearance, and always had some thing to show or tell Penelope, Jr., in which that wily little maiden appeared to be deeply interested. These days Ponelope, Sr., did not fool as ch©€Tfxjl as usual. It did not occur to her to blame either of them; in faot she knew of a little episode in Pansy's life which bad resulted in the pretty ring on her finger, and she thought the Doctor knew it, and it seemed quite natural that he would prefer the younger wo man's company. As time wore on the Doctor's visits grew very frequent, and he began to realize, for the first time in his busy life, that bachelor quarters were bare and dismal places. Visions of a pleas ant hearth of his own and a pleasant face beside the hearth began to haunt his waking moments, and after much cogitation and weighing of pros and oons, Dr. Sherburne wrote a letter, vaa a work of some time and mod before it was then a patient unexpectly st*ptriag ihtto the office, it Was hurriedly sddteaeed to "Miss Pene lope Hardy, and dispatched During the day it was received. Pansy took it in, and reading the sup erscription, ran up stairs lightly to Miss Penelope's room with it. "Here, Miss Penelope Hardy," she cried, gaily holding the letter over her head, "is a love letter for you. O! you sly auntie, to be receiving letters from unknown (to me) writers. Here, read it, and then confess to me, or I'll never forgive {on. She ran laughingly away, and lies Penelope was left alone with her letter. After looking it over on all sides she cut off the end of the en velope with her cissors and drew out the letter, and^thisis what she read: DEAR MISS PEN ELFT>rE--Perhaps you will be surprisod when you read this letter. I hope that you have guessed long ago how dear you are to mo, and that you may be willing to give the guidance of your dear life into iny hands. : I know there is a difference in our ages, but not so great, I hope, that love cannot bridge it over; and I will try my best to shield you from every trial and care and to deserve your affection. I have prospered in business during the past year, and can offer you a very comfortable home, and you will still be near enough to the homestead to be able to look after them. I know you must have had other suitors before me, and I am plain and old-fashioned, not gifted with flowers of speech, but I shall consider myself a most happy and fortunate man if you will consent to be inj wife., Yours sincerely, JOHN SHERBURNE. P. S.--Please let me hear from you as soon as possible. Miss Penelope gasped and laid down the letter. Her mind was in chaotic confusion. She walked over to the small blurred looking-glass which hung over her chest of drawers, and stood there looking intently at herself. "Ah, if he had come twenty years ago!" Bhe whispered, shaking her head sadly at the reflection before her; "then I might have been worth having; now, I am an old woman. And yet he loves me, and will consider himself fortunate if I will be his wife. What have I done to deserve this great happiness!" Fall ing on her knees by her bedside, poor Miss ifenelope sobbed and cried a wail of sorrow for her lost youth and more than one tear of joy. Here Penelope, Jr., appeared upon the scene, and hear ing the wonderful news told by Miss Penelope with as many blushes as a girl of 1G, clapped her hands and embraced her relative on the spot, declaring it was no more than she had expected. On Dr. Sherburne's table lay two letters, which he was quick to spy when he came in. One was postmarked "Boston," and was from his sister; the other was directed in a small, cramped hand, the capitals carefalty elaborated, as if by one not given to much writing. Neither of them seemed to be what he expected, so he read his sister's letter first. The end of it ran thus: "Do you know anybody in that very far away village of yours by the name of Pansy Harding? I happened to know (in confidence, of course,) that she is engaged to my particular pet, Archie Johnston. He raves over her to me, and report says her paternal relative has no end of money. I am dying to know all about her. Do make her ac quaintance, and give me your candid opinion of her." Her pretty ring, "a friend" to whom she constantly spoke of writing, and numberless incidents unnoticed at the time, rushed tojhis memory, and a slow, sickening co^iction grew upon the lonely man that "youth attracts youth," and that Archie Johnson's Pansy wotild never be his wife. Slowly, aimlessly he opened the other letter, but, after the first line or two, read rapidly to the end. Miss Penelope wrote: "I have read your letter and must say it was a great surprise to me. I never imagined that you cared so much, or at all, for me. First of all, I want to tell you some things that you may riot know. You speak of the difference in our ages as if it were a great deal. I may look younger than I am, but I did not think so. I am 44, and I heard you tell father you were 49, so you see there is very little diflsrence. I prom ised mother, when she died, ten years ago, that so long as father lived I would take care of him, so if you took me you would have to take father, too, and not many men would want an old maid for a wife, and her old father be sides. You are also mistaken about my having had suitors. I have never had one in my life; you are the only man wlio has ever cared enough for me to ask me to marry him, so I know nothing about love affairs, but I do know that your letter has madg me very happy, and that if it should be the will of Providence, I will try to make you a goed wife. But I would like you to consider all the obstacles, and * do nothing that you may regret one of these days. "PENELOPE HARDY." "Whew!" whistled the doctor, sitting upright in his chair, "Here's a duce of a mess! I asked Penelope, Jr., and Penelope, Sr., has accepted me!" » I would not like to say how many pipes the doctor smoked that night, or how many times that letter was read. Enough that quite early next morning a small boy brought a note to Miss Penelope containing these words: "The obstacles are not insurmounta ble. I shall call to see you this after noon. "J. s." This note threw Miss Penelope into a state of nervousness very trying to Pen elope, Jr., though it must be confessed that energetic young person did a great deal in a short time--certainly Pene lope Hardy, with her hair rolled loosely at the nape of her neck, instead of in a tight knot on.the top of her head, with a soft bow of pretty blue fastening the simple linen collar, and relieving the severely nfade black dress, with a pink flush (born of intense excitement) on her cheeks, and a new light in her timid eyes, was a much pleasanter person to look at than the Penelope who had sat by the hearth and darned. Penelope, Jr., opened the door for him. "I am very Klad," she whispered heartily, pressing his hand in her eager, girlish fashion; "I alwayb thought you would suit each other." And before he could find words to respond (that last remark being rather hard upon him, considering the circumstances) led him quiokly to the parlor, and, shutting the door softly, went away. "Behold your Ulysses!" he said, with a forced gayety, very foreign to his usual self-possessed manner. But as he saw the small, shrinking figure, the thin face flushed, the hands roughened and stained with many years of willing labor for others, twisting each other nervously, and thought of the constant self-sacrifice and repression she had endured so long and so patiently, a great wave of pity, very nigh akin to love, swept over his heart, and he put out both hands with a protecting ges tae* to meet hen, saying earnestly: wl. £ ,H' '•' lope, and i*y to t* other." This all happened some time ago, and one would scarcely recognize the staid, prim Miss Penelope in tlie sweet- faced placid little lady who rules Dr. SherburAe's honse. The Irish Widow lUscnsse* the Charity Ball. "AT eoorse, Mrs. McGJaggertv, I needn't ax ye aff ye wor there," said the Irish widow to her neighbor, as both sat in the latter's kitchen looking irito the glow that filled the open front of the cooking stove. "Where?" asked Mrs. MoGlaggerty.. "At the cuarity ball, at the Plekwiek, lasht Chuesd'y noight?" "Well, thin, yo mar be sure that I was not," said the neighbor, somewhat crustily. "I thought as mooch." said Mra. Ma- googin, "but I axed the kustion be way av inthroducing' the subject, do ye see? I had no oidea av makin' game av ye, Mrs. McGlaggerty, or av insini- watin' that ye warn't uv'ry bit as gud as anny wan was tbere. Bless your hart, I wasn't widiu a moile av it me- silf, eo yesee that's how it is, an'me only intention was to say to ye, be- chune ourselves, that it's a quare kind av charity that kin parade in doi- monds an' shwally-tailed coats wan night in the year, an' the resht av the 3l>5 days cut down the poor min's an' gerls* wages, widout say in' anny thin' av the beggars that's dhriven' from their dures an' left to shtarye in the sthreet. Let me tell ye, Mrs. Mc- Glaggerty, that the charity that is dis pensed at foive dollars a tecket goes a very short ways. It's the serkus sthoyle av*givin', a wan-ring show andher a three-ring tint. There's a great dale av hooray an paper but divil the mooch av it anyfwhere else. I read a great dale about the charity ball an' the foine ladies an* grand gintlemin that was there. I read about the doimonds an' the silks an' the satings, an* fwhin I did so I bethought mesilf av a poor family in the big Ashley buildin' down an Broadway belyow, that's near death's dure from hunger an' sickness, an' sez I to meself, 'mebbe aff I'd take this paper down there to thim poor crathures ' and read to thim all this foine wroitin'f that mebbe it 'ould fill their stomachs an' cure their disaysest' Av coorse, I wasn't fool enough to do anythin' loike that, me frind, I only thought it, by way av com mint, an' thin I laughed to mesilf to think fwhat fools the wur- ruld'was med up av. A lot av society ducks an' darlints makes up their moinds to have a night's enjoymint. They know they'll have to pay for it annyhow, so fwhat dees they do but imnose an a lot av poor musicians an' otiiers, an' give foive dollars a ticket-- two or three hundred av thim--to'rds feedin' 50,000 shtarvin' souls. Let me tell you, Mrs. McGlaggerty, that it's not the min that wears shwally-tails or the wimmin that has their doiminds that helps the poor. No, indade, it's thim that's poor thimsel' an' that knows the pangs av disthreBS an' pov erty as helps the craythers that are more anfortnit All that the poor '11 uver get out av hoigh-chooned charity balls they kin put in their eye. I'm poor meself, an' I nuver expect anny help from such a quarther. No, nor divil a wan av me 'ould accept it, aither. Aff the worst comes to the worst wid me, Mrs. Glaggerty, as it's loiable to do wid any wan, I'll just take that ould steamboat clock av moine down from the kitchen wall an' raffle it aff fur 50 cints a chance. I've done it foive toimes already. The lasht toime it was raffled Are- thoosy's beau wan it an' wanted to take it away wid him home to his moother's boordin'-house, but I tould the bandy-legged little Dootch divil that if he dar'd to do as mooch as lay his hands an it I'd brain him an the shpot, so he tould me I kud kape it. Nuver moind, me frind, we'll have a foin toime wid that same clock ye| afore it goes,"--St. Louis Critic. ! * A Florida Dissipation. We say good night to Aunt Eaty and drive on. The sky is peculiar to Flor ida on such a night--a steel blue, With thousands of tiny fleecy clouds like daisies, flecking its bosom, and under which the moon looks and laughs like a beautiful face through a bride's white veil. We pass through a lane, on the right of which we see glimpses of water through clumps of young oak, and come presently to the Jackson orange tree. All the Jacksons are out on the porch of the little brown house--father, mother, and babies--and there hang the clus tered oranges, from three to four thou sand, on that grand old tree. Old! Well, perhaps twenty years have rough ened its bark; and after Jackson is dead, and his children's children, some body will pluck the golden fruit from those same limbs, for it has seventy- five years yet in which to reach its prime. Jackson comes up, and with his hands full of silver goes back with baskets and ladder, and presently we are paring and eating the luscious fruit. "Perhaps de ladies would like some sugar-cane," Jackson says, pocketing his money. "I's got it wid ten jints, 5 cents a stick." Of course we are all clamorous for sugar-cane, and keep the gentlemen of our party busy cutting the big sticks into sections. Maybe you don't know what a feast we had on oranges and sugar-cane away out in the wild woods of Florida.--Correspon dence San Francisco Chronicle. The Tying ef a Cravat. When Carlyle wrote his "Clothes Philosophy" he lamented that nothing had been previously written on so im portant a subject But a little book bearing imprint of 1829 has come to light, devoted entirely to the impor tance of a properly tied cravat. After, doubtless, profound investigation of so weighty a question, the author records it as his opinion that "when a man of rank makes an entree into a circle dis tinguished for taste and elegance, and the usiral compliments have passed on both sides, he will preceive that his coat will attract only a slight degree of attention, but that the most critical and scrutinizing examination will be made on the set of his cravat.** Entirely or comparatively oblivious of all the rest of his person) "the delighted eyes" of all present "will bo fixed on that part of his person which separates the shoulder, from the chin," and upon the fold and finish of the several inches of white linen there visible Will depend the favorable or anfavorabls nature of his reception. THERE was always more in the world than men conld see, walked thej ever BO slowly; they will see it no better for going fast. We shall be obliged at last to confess that the really precious things are thonght and sight, not pace. It does a man no harm to go'sometimes slow, for his glory is net at all in going, btit a-hrimg. ' ii Call! Bl Some few jtwrft.. ago an eccentric Frenchman d£wl here, possessed of a cool million or,so. He Lfead no heirs here, but there were a spore of nephews hnd neipes in J^rance. When his will was opened it %as found that the old man had provided liberally for all, and to Sallie Hinckley, a former well-known actress who haa lived here for many yearsfc he had left an annuity of $200 a month, to be paid her so long as she lived. ^ But Sallie, pooh-poohed this provision. She began suit at once, claimed to be the wife and to have dower-rights, and all that, and she made such a hubbub as to scare the French heirs out of their wits, and they gladly compromised. Sallie took $80,000 in cash in lieu of her annuity, and $100,000 besides. She now lives in fine style here, and though no longer a young woman by any means, is at tractive and leads a quiet and respecta ble life. The dead Ralston was a prey to ad venturesses as long as he lived. He was a man of open immoralities, and numbered his mistresses by the dozen. His bachelor apartments on Commer cial street, which occupied a whole floor and were fitted up in regal style, were the scene of many a champagne supper to a choice but soiled coterie of friends. After his death the estate was not openly attacked, for the excellent reason, perhaps, that there was noth ing to be gained by it, for Ralston died a pauper. Sharon, who took charge of his affairs and wound up the estate, did, however, pay some small Bums to two or three of the women who had been dependent upon Ralston, and by that means secured "quit-claim deeds," so to speak. Out of the wreck of the Ralston estate was saved for his widow the country residence known as "Little Belmont," and $75,000 to support the family. This has all been dissipated. Mrs. Ralston got into evil habits and contracted evil associations. Her property is now all gone, and she has, it is believed, wholly lost the respeot of her old friends and her family. W. S. O'Brien, the dead bonanza monarch, thought1* he would save scandal, and money, too, by fixing up matters with all his chere amies before his death. '"Uncle Billy" had been one of the boys in his earlier days, and later on, at the period of his affluence, he had not forgotten the companions pf his more youthful joys. It was said that there were no less than four ladies who lived handsomely at Mr. O'Brien's expense during his later years. Not that they were all his mistresses by any means, but at some time or other in their lives he had relations with them, and he felt the obligation to care for them. "Uncle Billy" was ill for sever al months before he died, and during his illness he took his old partner and friend Flood into his confidence, and between them they provided for all tho ladies in the handsomest manner. To each was deeded the beautiful house she dwelt in and a sufficient sum to support it, together with furniture, horses, car riages, etc. Rumor put the cost of all this to Uncle Billy's estate at $600,000, but it was all done quietly, and not a soul but Flood knew. From each of the ladies was taken a cast-iron docu ment signed and delivered, releasing W. S. O'Brien and his estate from any claim whatever. But, alas! Uncle Billy forgot one innamorata of the days of'his poverty. A Mexican woman in humble life called one day at the Nevada Bank, not long after O'Brien's death, and asked to see Mr. Flood. The latter recognized her at once. She had been a "friend" Of Undo Billy's when Flood and O'Brien kept the "Auction Lunch and Saloon." The woman, who seemed quite poor, asked if Mr. O'Brien had not left her some little keepsake. Flood said he had not, then she pulled from her pockets a bundle of yellow, faded love- letters of Uncle Billy's written in a mixture of pretty bad English and hor rible Spauish, and said: "He used to think BO much of me; I was greatly shocked to hear of his death." The woman did not ask for anything, but cool-headed Flood knew that he must get these letters, for an innocent wo man with that budget was too danger ous a quantity to allow to run loose in a community filled with hungry and unscrupulous lawyers. He sent for his co-executor, J. V/Coleman, nephew of Uncle Billy, and the two took the wo man into a private room. Whatever took place there nobody knows, but the letters passed into Flood's posession, > and it was afterward learned that the O'Brien estate was charged with $40,-1 000 "legal expenses iu securing certain Jnit-claim deeds.*-- San Francisco •etter. ^ , - . ., ! A Famous British Regiment. The Coldstreams were raised in the year 1650, in the little town near Ber- wick-on-Twesd from whence the regi ment takes its name. Their first colo nel was the renowned George Monk (afterwards Duke of Albemarie), a gen eral in the Parlaimentary army and ah admiral of the fleet. It is owing to this latter fact that a small union jacket is permitted to be borne on the queen's color of the regiment, a proud distinc tion enjoyed by no other corps in the service. In the year 1660. brave Monk and his gallant Coldstreamers materi ally assisted in the happy restoration of the English monarchy, and to per form this patriotic and eminently loyal act they marchod from Berwick-on- Tweed to London, meeting with a warm and enthusiastic greeting from the in habitants of the towns and villages through which they ̂ passed. After the restoration was accomplished, the troops were paraded on Tower Hill for the purpose of taking the oath of alle giance to the king,and among those pres ent were the three noble regiments that form the subject of this brief history. Having grounded their arms in token of submission to the new reigme, they were at once commanded to take them up again as the First, Second, and Third Regiments of foot guards. The First and Third Regiments obeyed, but the Coldstereamers stood firm, and their muskets remained upon the ground. "Why does your regiment hesitate?" inquired the king of Gen. Monk. "May it please your majesty," uaid the stern old soldier, "my Cold- streamers are your majesty's devoted soldiers, but after the important ser vice they have rendered your highness they decline to take up arms as second to any other regiment in your majes ty's service." "They are right," said the king, "and they shall be 'second to none.' Let them take up their arms as my Coldstream Regiment of foot- guards." Monk rode back to his reg iment and communicated to it the king's decision. It had a magical effect. The arms were instantly raised amid frantic cries of "Long live the king!" Since this event the motto of the regiment has been Nulli secundus, whioh is borne in gold letters upon its color beneath the sUr. and. garter of the toyal hooae. Tlppe also appear ktvasa> __ terioo*- »d vastapooL* In the yfar 1850tliiii r*gi ment held its jubilee banquet to eom- *>*ttiorate the two hundredth anniver sary of its birth. i - Mrs. Mageogin. "Arrah my, Mrs. McGlaggerty,*ftllid the Irish widoW, holding up her two hands in a manner mildly expressive of her condemnation of something. "But did you uver hear the loikes?" "The loikes of what?" asked the neighbor. "Av the ways the young gerls are carryin' an nowadays," answered Mrs. Magoogin. "Oh, musha, bnt it's the slip'ilt crathers they are altogether, Mrs. McGlaggerly," wid their low- necked dhresses and their pollj-voor frogs-legs--tho divil pull the tongues out av thim--as aff dacint clothes an' the English langwidge wasn't good enough fur thim. Faix'n it makes me poor ould h'art acke fwiu I think av the fools the faymale sex at the prisent toime makes ay thimsilyes. Nayther the ould shtoyle av clothes nor their own native spaicli nor their own coun- thry ia gud enough for the throllops anny longer, but they musht have their twoi-loights--bad Besht to thim--an' their foine talk from France, fwhere the head divil and all his imps have their headquarters. Nayther are the husseys satisfoied with the ayther, but the minnit they have a loose leg to put andher thim away they runs acrass the say, pullin' their poor ould fathers and mothers afther thim, makin' monkeys av thim, an' be the same token, slipend- in' their money as freely as av it was wather. An' fwhat does they be afther doin' fwin they put feet an the other side, but go to smashin' counts an' ba rons, an' fwhat's tin tomes worse, mar- ryin' the villains an' saddlin' the family wid their debts. Sure, an' here* a speciment fur ye in Evy Mackey, the daughter of the man that made a for tune sellin' bananys, they tells ma Fwat does me foine little Evy do af ther gettin* a daciut raisin' an a grand edictaion? Fwhojr she shpint tin years in plaster paris thrainin' her v'ice an' l'arnin' to powder her face an' shpake Frincli, an til now she polly-voos loike a curly-headed barber wid the catarrh. Fwhat does she do after all that, but marry an Eyetalyan prince that hasn't hap'orth, an' beyant his father's name doesn't own as much as ye moight put in yer eye. It's a foine how-do-ye- do, isn't it, Mrs. McGlaggerty, fwin an American gerl wid a fortune has to go to Etaly to foind herself a husband, an' thin take wan as poor as Job's turkey was afore he ait it for his Christmas dinner? Sure an' my Arethoosy was to go to Yurrup an' do a thing loike that-«-bring home a pinniless ould pau per av an organ-groindin' Choinvman, to be livin' aff th' airnin's av a dacint widdy--I'd breck uv'ry bone in her body an' throw the both av thim out av the dure. Therein plinty av foine, able young min in Ameriky to make husbands for the best gerls in the land, an' uv'ry toime I hear av Miss This an' Miss That marryih' a rich, furriner j'y av his bargain, and congratylate the young miu at home upon the gud for tune in havin' eshcaped from gettin' a wife that was in no way worthy av thim. Evy Mackey may be a daisy, an' her father be a millionaire, Mrs. McGlaggerty, but wid all their beauty and their mooney they're not a bit bet- ther than the Magoogins, aff I do say it" mesilf, an' be heavens av my daughter Arethoosy uver marries annybody, ye can bet yer loife, me frind, it'll be some body this soide ay the wather that's able to snpport her, or my maiden name's not Berdie. That's alL--SL Louis CriHc. !| The Last Gladftorial Fight* In 404 Honorius was emperor. At that time, in the remote deserts of Libya, there dwelt an obscure monk named Telemachus. He had heard of these awful scenes in the far-bff Co liseum at Rome. Depend upon it, they lost nothing by their transit across the Mediterranean in the hands of Greek and Roman sailors. In the bath and market places of Alexandria, in the Jewries of Cyrene, in the mouth of every eastern storyteller, the festive massacres of the Coliseum would doubtless be clothed in colors truly very appalling, yet scarcely more ap palling than the truth. Telemachus brooded over these horrors until his mission-dawned upon him. He was or dained by heaven to put an end to the slaughter of human beings in the Co liseum. He made his way to Rome. He entered the Coliseum with the throng, at the time the gladiators were parading in front of the emperor with uplifted swords and the wild mookerv of homage--uMoriluri te $alutant}1 Elbowing his way to the barrier, he* leaped over at the moment when the combatants rushed at each other, threw himself between them, bidding them, in the name of Christ, to desist. To blank astonishment succeeded imperial contempt and popular fury. - Tele machus fell, slain by the swords of the gladiators. Legend may adorn the tale and fancy fill out tho picture, but/ the solid fact remains--there never was another gladitorial fight in the Co liseum. One heroic soul had caught the flow of popular feeling that had al ready begun to Bet in tho direction of humanity, and turned it He had em bodied by his act and consecrated by his death the sentiments that already lay timidly in the hearts of thousands in that great city of Rome.--Leslie's Magazine. . The Mexican Customhouse Officials. The Mexican custom-honse officials, to their credit be it said, are the least exacting in the world and are a marked contrast to our own. They allow us to carry over big bundles and take our word for it that the contents are not subject to duty; our pockets may bulge out in every direotion and the number of things stowed upon our person may give us the appearanoe of being pigeon- broasted, and yet the custom-house of ficer seems never to dream of a person al search. As for the ladies, God bless them, they could smuggle whatever they took a mind to, and to do them justice the? avail themselves fully of their privilege. Those custom-house inspectors are well paid for Mexicans, receiving over $100 a month, and rumor has it that in the matter of suspicion they are unlike Cecsar's wife. If a $20 piece was put over eadh of their eyes they could not see, and if another was placed over their lips they conld not speak.--Letter from Mexico. A Truly tieod Deacon. "NO," said the Vermont deacon, "I dott't 'approve of boss racin,' and when another member of the church becomes so godless as to try to pass me on the road comin' home from meetin', I feel it my duty to let out a litt'e on the reins, just to keep him from puttin, his Cambridge '• • 4"; •>. j.4 Th« iBeoaveatenee tented from tlk* "Batten" oft i(fe Barn. Dear reader, do yo*> remember the boy of your school who did the heaw falling through the ice and was always about to break his heck, but managed to live through it? Do yon call to mind the youth who never allowed anybody else to fall oat of a tree and break his collar-bone when lie could attend to it himself? _ Every school has to secure tho ser vice of such a boy before it can suc ceed, and so our school had one. When I entered the school I saw at a glance that the board had neglected to pro vide itself with a boy whose duty it was to nearly kill himsslf every few days in order to keep up interest, so I ap plied for the position. I secured it without any trouble whatever. The board understood at once from my b aring that I would succeed. And I did not betray the truat they bad re posed in me. Before the first term was over I had tried to climb two trees at once, and been carried home on a stretcher; been polled out of the river with my lungs full of water and artificial respiration resorted to; been jerked around over the north half of the county by a frac tious horse whose halter I had tied to my 1®?. and which is now three inches longer than the other; tether with various other little early eccentricities which I cannot at this moment call to mind. My parents at last got so that along about 2 o'clock p. m. they would look anxiously out of the window and say: "Isn't it about time for the boys to get here with William's remains ? They generally get here about 2 o'clpck. One day five or six of us boys were playing "I spy" around our barn. Ev erybody knows how to play "I spy." One shuts his eyes and counts 100 for instance, while the others hide. Then he must find the rest and say "I spy" so-and-so, and touch the "goal" before they do. If anybody beats him to the goal the victim has to "blind" over again. Well, I knew the ground pretty well, and could drop twenty feet out of the barn window and strike oh a pile of straw so as to land near the goal, and touch it, and let the crowd in free without getting found out. I did this several times, and got the blinder, James Bang, pretty mad. After a boy has counted five or six hundred, and worked hard to gather in a crowd, only to get jeered and laughed at by the boys, he lost his temper. It was so with James Cicero Bang. I knew he almost hated me, and yet I Went on. Finally, in the fifth ballot, I saw a good chance to slide down and let the crow in as l had done on former occa sions. I slipped out of the window and doWn the side of the bam about two feet, when I was detained unavoidably. There was a "batten" on the barn that was loose at the upper end. I think I was wearing my father's vest on that day, as he was away from home, and I frequently wore his olothes when he was absent. Anyhow, the vest was too large, and when I slid down the loose board ran up between my vest and my person in such a way as to suspend me about eighteen feet from the ground in a prominent but very uncomfortable position. I remember it yet quite distinctly. James C. Bang came around, where he could see me. He said: "I spy Bill Nye and touch the goal before* him." No one came to remove the barn. No one seemed to sympathize with me in my great sorrow and isolation. Every little while James C. Bang would come around the corner and say: "Oh, I see ye. You needn't think you're out of sight up there. 1 can see you real plain. You better come down and blind. I can see you up there!" I tried to unbutton mf vest and get down and lick James, but it was no use. It was a very trying time. I can re member how I tried to kick myself loose, but failed. Sometimes I would kick the barn and sometimes I would kick a large hole in the horizon. Fi nally 1 was rescued by a neighbor, who said he didn't want to see a good barn kicked into chaos just to save a long- legged boy that wasn't worth over six bits. It affords me great pleasure to add that while I am looked up to and mad ly loved by everyone that does not know me, James C. Bang is the brevet {>resident of a fractured bank, taking a onely bridal tour by himself in Europe, and waiting for the depositors to die of old age. The mills of the gods grind slowly, but they most generally get .there with both feet. (Adapted from the French by permission).--Bill Nye. Yucatan Indian Huts. The huts are oblong, and rounded at the corners. Some are divided in two by a partition. More generally the whole family crowd together in tue single apartment The wall is formed by putting sticks upright in the ground and filling the interstices with mud, or else with a mixture that is afterward smoothed and white-washed. The roofs are slanting and thatched, the thatch being allowed to fall to within two or three feet of the ground, to keep off wind and rain. The surface of the earth serves as flooring, since the in mates can seldom afford to have it cemented. The furniture consists of a few hammocks hung across the room-- they serve as seats by day and beds by night- -somo low chairs, called butaca (similar in shape to some of the seats used by the Assyrians and Egyptians of old), a wooden bench on which are the grinding-stones, and an image of a saint in some corner of the ro^m. The fireplace --three stones placed in tri angle on the floor--is there too. Chickens, dogs, pigs, and babies all frolic together in these poor homes,, and appear to be tolerably happy, if not very well fed. While every corner of the hut is crammed with rubbish, its mistress sometimes sits in the hammock swing ing, as untidy as her house, making artificial flowers tp adorn some wooden imago of the Virgin.--Alice D. le Plongeon, in Harper's Magazine. . A Serious Accident. "You are not looking welL" "No, I have been laid up for a week past. I had the misfortune to have a horse run away with me." "You got off right easy. My brother had an accident with a horBe, and he will be laid up mnch longer than you will." "So a horse ran away with him too?" "No, he ran away with a horse, but the sheriff overtook him next day. He will be laid up for five years at the State penitentiary."--Texas Siftings. STATISTICS show that women gradu ates are about % year older than men on the average. WISDOM ia to the soul what health if to the body. • .-<•» <>< - AIT aoddant ia never billed ahead bnt generally plays to a fall honse. * y THE conscientfoas lawyer never takes 1 ̂ a case unless his side of it looks feesi- ble. ̂ THK lawyer onght to be agOod poet, because he is accustomed to writing • versus. EVEBY dog haa his day, bnt the nights are mostly given over to the feline i« tribe.--Oil City Blizzard. In the Legislature--"Mr. Speaker, I ' arise to a point of order--" Half ; asleep member--"IU take a sour .if: toddy."--Arkansaw Traveler. DB. MARY WALKER pants for his trionic fame. She is writing a play. There are to be no breaches of eti- : quette and few scene shifts in it.--Tex- " as Sittings. LOUD CHESTERFIELD says: "Choose ? the company of your superiors." That's just what we have been doing, and it r makes us awfully lonesome.--Newtiian Independent. < "THERE maybe men who can run Rassia better than I can," remarked the Czar, "but they have no right to i kill me because I can't do better."-- Detroit Free Press. PERK HYACINTHE is said to use to- S bacco for killing insectB only. The ;:^ old fellow may not know that tobacco haa a reputation for killing maie aez » also.--St Faul Day. \ VA8 POOLED. Hans foil in love mit a shweed leotlo maid, .. Und every nljrlit by her vlnaow^hfe shtofed. Una ahere mta pooty Bharanade\ Hevokeou„ dor whole naborhoodfcv ^ But vainly he tried once to rouse \ Dot malt out her Bhl:eb so pewitaticn:\, He vas play on der front r f dot housf, . " Und Bhe «hk*et» on der leetle pack kectohsfc. ; --Carl Pretzel. * -THERE is no adequate historical evi- dence that the Light Brigade whieh won fame at Balaklava was composed of plumbers, but Tennyson's casual exclamation, "Oh, the wild charge they made!" gives rise to a well-grounded suspicion that this was the fact.--Soni' erville Journal. "A MONTHLY journal published in Paris is devoted to nothing but the art of stamp collecting." There are quite a number of daily and weekly journals in this country devoted mainly to the same thing; but some of them lose more "stamps" than they collect--Nor- ristown Herald. "I AM firmly convinced that many married men are actually talked to death," said a cynical old bachelor to a charming maiden. "Why, you horrid creature!" she exclaimed, "what makes you think so?" "Because statistics show that women, as a rule, live longer than men," he growled.--N. Y. Morn ing Journal. AN eastern editor, who recently started across the Atlantic, writes home to his paper describing the intense ex- citment which prevailed when "a heavy gale Bwooped down upon us." The printer made it read "a heavy gal . swooped down upon us." In this case tbere undoubtedly would have been considerable bustle.-- Whiteside Htr- ald A MI83IOKABY relates, that, in cross ing the great desert, a female member of the caravan became so parched that when she at last attained liquid re freshment she drank a gallon. This would seem to indicate that a "gal" in Asia could drink a gallon "aisier" than anywhere else, whether she belonged to the gallinacea or not.--Yonker's Gazette. A NEW YORK tooth-carpenter adver tises a full set of teeth for $5, while you wait." Cheap enough, but as a •> rule people who have a lot of old snags dug out prefer to wait several days be fore trying on a new set. There are places out West where you can have a full set of teeth inserted for nothing while you wait, unless the bull-dog is chained.--Peck's Sun. A YOUTH who was snpposed to be . gradually dying of pulmonary con sumption, coughed up a tack that had boen in his respiratory organs for seven years, while in a skating rink in Col umbia, California, not long ago, If he had struck the floor about ten pounds harder the probability is that he would have coughed up a keg of railroad spikes. Why not turn that rink into a home lor consumptives?-- Brooklyn Times. A MASH. See him at the corner stand-- - # I * Just a dude, wit b cane in ban<L , ~ ,, And the street so wide. >"• Crossing1 deep, with snow and L _ Down the oiv rts waters ruBh; Will he stem the tide? Dudine she es-ays to cross- See her upward, wildly toss Gloved and daiuty hands. , But the dude, upheld by cane. Pity him--he seems in pain-- Quite as helpless stands. ' Soon these nondescripts decide 'J hat tho street is not so wide. That tliey may not cross. Both start out and meet midwjir--* Horrors! there's a runaway; ; What a dreadt'ui loss. - >• Should it strike the dainty pairt le there no ho p :invwhrre, For the two RO sweet? No! nt the last they imet their fate: • Help arrive---but all too late: They are mashed complete!- * ' --Chicago Sun. J ' Chief Justice MarshaBi Mr. Chief Justice Marshall, as I re member him, was a tall, gaunt man, with a small head and black eyes. He used to wear an unbrushed, long-skirt ed black coat, a badly-fitting waist coat, and knee breeches, a voluminous cambric cravat, generally soiled, and black worsted stockings, with low shoes and silver buckles. He was a rapid walker and he never wore an outer garment even in the most inclement weather. A great judgo, prominent among the mighty intellects of his ep och, and uniting inflexible honesty with rare genius, he was greatly endeared to those who knew him in private life, and his homeliness and slovenliness were attractive, as epicures value the cob webs on a bottle of wine. Pitching quoits was his favorite amusement, and when his iron circle "rung the mug" or so fell that it encircl^l tl^epeg at which he had thrown it, he exhibited childish joy. The new statue of him in the cap- itol grounds is no likeness.--Ben: Per- ley Poore in the Boston Budget A Matrimonial Probation. . In Northern Siberia if a young ̂ Jglr tive desires to marry he goes to tne father of the girl of his choice aqd a price is agreed upon, one-half of which is then paid down. The prospective son-in-law at once takes up his resi dence with the family of his lady love and resides with them a year. If at the end of a year he still desires to marry the girl he can pay the other half, and they are married on the next visit of the priest. If he does not want to marry he need not, and simply loses the half paid at the start THEY had a fox-hunt in New Jersey which ended in the fox crawling under a bed in a farm-house, and a woman driving the mob of men out of her yard with a pail of scalding water. THE higher you climb the ladder of thought, the highar you will wish to <v. • 4-- • .1 .4, V* ^ < t .. *4L JL U tls. to**1 »£dL«..... _ ̂A ̂ta* ... «v i.̂ } » •' \tf_ -siwfc x * _ •» « t.,5 „ J » ̂ * f \ V i » . _tij I . ̂ * . i. „