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"W f •jt - • ,, : 4" .* -n : ?»flnEAM 8TEB «IK.» \ *W BOWKRT J. BOBMETM .f ̂ » )6 •IbI |Nt O* story, parson, to Ml laa crowd - !•>!« IWw tbta, « W e t h t h « v i r t u o u s m a t r o n » f r a v n i n ' u * c h i d - in* «ke jgif l̂ln' mias, An' th« gocxl old deacon a noddtn' tn tins wtth his patient snore*. An' the sh'.c r.l nl<<< t of the capital, itilkfii'iwv through the doors. flut then, it's a story that happened, an' every j-'- i»• word of it's true, §§?.;, All' aouintimoa we can't h-lp talkin'of the things < tbat wc sometimes do. K. An' though cool society coldly shuts its doora 4% .1 onto "Teamster Jim," I'm tbui kin th(-r's lots worao psopla thet's better r known tlian him. A ' t mind the day hi waa married, an' I danoed at $>- 4 the weitdin", too; a;, , An' I kfosrfl th<* bride, sweet Maage--daughter at •j'- • Ben McOrew, « X mind how they net up housekeepin', two young, R. * poor happy fools; !'.̂ -v Wuen JJUI'H only stock waa a heavy truck an' 1 , ' four Kointncky mil lea. H\, p c i ; t h e y l i v e d a l o n g c o n t e n t e d , w e t h t h e i r l i t t l e * .< joys an' cares, , - An' every ymr a baby oome, an* twice they come "J, * , in pairs; t«V Till the house was full of children, weth their f * < ; ahoatin' and playin' and squalls. An'tbei'-singin' and laughin' an' tryin' made Bedlam wethin ita walls. £ A»" Jim. he seemed to like it, an* ha spent all his $c > evenings at liomp. .-f. " %e aaid it was full of muaic an' light, an' peace % from pit to dome. «?» 'fie joined the church, an' be naed to pray that his fir ' heart might be kept from ain-- >, The atumblin'est prayin'--but heads and hearts ^vtv. used ta bow when he'd begin. 'V;/'- 1 • £ K;. BO, they lived along in that way, the same from „ day to day, Aj- ;Wtth plenty of time for ditrin' work, andalitde £-* tins ' for play, 'm- ' / An' prow in' Around 'em the sweetest girls and the 4L.j liveliest, manliest boys, ajg "./• fill tha old gray heads of the two old folks was crowned with the homeliest joys. Eh? Cone to my atory? Well, that's all They're •;? Uvin' just like I aaid, « -* Only two of the girls is married, an' one of the f , » boys is dead. ' An' they're honest, an' decent, an' happy, an'the fv* , verv best Christiana, I know, - Though I reckon in brilliant comp'ny they'd be Df voted a leetle alow. fiCQ r" Oh, you're pressed for time--excuse yomf Bare, , rm sorry I kept you so long; KC' -Good by. Now he looked kind obored-like an' I rtckon that I was wrong Vfv To tell such a commonplace story of two sech 1 „ « commonplace lives, f , Dot w*can't all git drunk an' gamblo an' fight, CM-; an' run off with other men's wives. LOTTIE'S lEALOUSr. v: "Many you? Why, no. Vane, of course I won't! You mast have taken leave of your senses. I always told you I intended lo wed t man with bine eyes and golden tiair, and yours are dark. Besides, yon are •wentv-seven and a medical stndent, two things I never could tolernte in the man I honor with my heart and hand." And lovely little Lottie Bexdal laughed a Yery wicked little laugh as she pushed the end •f her red silk parasol into the Koft soil under An old apple tree, at the same time glanc­ ing saucily up at her companion, a •cholarly young man. "Why do you ask me?" she resnmed. "Because I wanted to be made fan of, to tbe ridiculed by the little girl I love," re­ plied Vane Winton, smiling sadly at the ; t>ert young lady perched on the back of a Rustic garden-seat, her brown frizzes fall­ ing roguishly into her dancing brown eyes. "Now that doesn't sound -a bit like our ; own grave Vane, who studies medicine and Cultivates an ice cream complexion." "An ice cream complexion?" asked Vane Winton, a little mystified. ? "Yes; that's Lottie Bexdal's term for Students' complexions. You book-worms •tody away until your faces take on the hue Of that sweet compound," answered the roguish girl. "If yoo would only be gTtve for a while I might talk to you," said Vane. "les; you know I'm such a rogue that I •hould put you to the blushes a thousand thnea a day," chimed in Lottie. "IHD willing to run the risk." "Ahl but I shall not agree to any such •acrifice. Marry some steady, sensible girl. Alioe May will be herein one hour. Be polite, and captivate her. Miss May is 90 highly cultured and grave that she will surely not be less than sublime in your eyes. I'll tell you * But Vane did not stay to hear more. He walked off, leaving gay Lottie Bexdal laughing merrily. Lottie was the ward of Vane WintonV land father. She had been orphaned at a ,1very early age. A maiden aunt had then adopted her. When Lottie was but ten, and her education not half completed, her Jdndrelative died. Butbefore that she had .Bent for Mr. Winton, her girlhood's lover, land made him promise to receive the little orphan girl. The kind man consented; and so Lottie became an inmate of Vane Winton'e home. ^ Vane was the only child of wealthy parents, and at the time when Lottie came lo his father's house he was away on the Continent. When he returned three years after­ wards he found his "ward-sister," as he had called her in his letters, away at some school for girls. So it happened that Vane ' . and Lottie had never met until six months before. Vane was a tine scholar, but he had - never studied any profession. Now, at the age of twenty-seven, realizing perhaps that "it is never too late to mend," he was , fitting himself for the ministry. Vane was trying to study at his home that summer. Sometimes he found it im­ possible to do so amid the tempest aroused by misehievous Lottie Rexdal. She threw open the unused piano, and made the house ring with her clear, bell-like notes. She filled the library with flowerB, tossed up Vane's books, and even scribbled on '. them. She rode every horse on the place, romped with Prince, the great shaggy dog, tore her dresses, went bare-headed, and turned the wide hall into a skating rink. She was utterly spoiled by both Mr. and Mrs. Winton. ^At first Vane had been shocked. But ne more he studied her original character, the more he became reconciled to it. Tolerance gave place to admiration, and that, in due time, to love. He had always felt a vague longing to dis­ cover a woman in whose character he hoped ; to find originality and freedom from affectation. If he conld only teach Lottie . to love him, what a splendid woman she - Slight become! He would wait patiently and hopefully, he reasoned, as he walked away. Taking a volume from his pocket, he sat down on a bench under an elm, and began to peruse it. Soon a merry laugh caused him to look up, and he saw Lottie riding down the lane on her milk-white Floss. Very bright and piquant she looked in her riding habit as she drew rein beside him. "Sir Owl, I'm on my way to meet Miss Alice now; and while I'm gone I shall ex­ pect you to comb your hair, part it in tbe middle, put on a clean collar, pin a flower in your buttonhole, and act very aesthetic and dude-like." And. with a merry laugh, she rode away. For weeks after Alice May's anival the house was tilled with company. Vane de­ voted himself almost entirely to her, leav­ ing Lottie to amuse herself. At the fre­ quent picnics Alice shone as the chief star of the occasion. She might be gone all- clay, but returned with her elegant cos­ tumes as perfect as when she started,while Lottie would lose her parasol and fan, and tear great holes in her dresses, and come home with her face and hands as black as a gips.V"- When Vane and Alioe went riding, Lottio would snow off Floss and jump hedges. : thus provoking earnest remonstrance from . Vane. Then the brown-eyed witch rode . faster than ever, sending back gay peals of laughter to the dignified couple whom she left to bring up the rear. Of late Vane thought he detected a cer­ tain reckle-sness in Lottie's freaks. When going up the mountain, where it was so steep that he dismounted to lead Alice's horse, she galloped on, putting whip to Flo-<8, who rushed up the rocky ascent, tearing up pebble and turf, over wide chasms, and along narrow tedgee, where a single misstep would have hnrled pony and girl down to instant destruction. Vane trembled; but to hide hia fears, he .ASM lligs One day he went into the library, and found Lottie seated on the window-sill. She was unusually quiet. She had been watching Alice, who, with book in hand, was promenading on the lawn below, under the shady trees. "She is very beautiful," said Vane, look­ ing towards the graceful figure. "I wonder if she would marry me?" "Vnne Winton. haven't you asked her yet?" ' Not yet. Perhaps I shall to-d^y« Do you think I had better do so?" "Most certainly." And she ran off sing­ ing merrily. in a short time she was tearing down the road on Floss at breakneck speed. After she had gone, Vane went Out to Alice. "What ails Lottie?" that lady inquired. "Lottie? I do not understand." "As she passed me just a few moments ago to mount her pony, I spoke to her. 'Let me go, Alice May!' she snapped, and I noticed tears in her eyes. And then she rode off so recklessly that I am fearful she will put Floss in a bad temper." Alice spoke lightly, but Vane's face paled as he walked back(to the house, and waited anxiously for Lottie's return. Presently he caught sight of Floss being led slowly back by a strange man. Then followed a carriage with two men, one of whom held a girlish figure in his arms. "It took place down on the river road," explained one of the men to Vane. "The girl was riding like the wind, when all at once the pony made a plunge, and the girl landed among the rocks." Mr. and Mrs. Winton came hurrying out, and the greatest excitement prevailed. They took Lottie into the house, where it was ascertained that one arm was broken, and several ugly cuts and bruises had been received. When Lottie opened her eyes, Vane was at her side. "Go away!" she cried. "Never, darling, for I love you!" , "How can you lore me and marry Alice?" she pouted. "I am not going to many Alice/' "Why, Lottie, can it be that you are jealous?" said Alice, taking her* hand. "Vane and I do not want each other." "I was very jealous," confessed Lottie, "but please don't go away." And he did not. "When you spoke of marrying Alice, I did not care what happened to me." "But you refused me." "I know it, but ouly to tease you." Just as soon as Lottie recovered there was a quiet wedding, and Alice was brides­ maid. Would Do It No More. The Rev. Dr. ©7 was a well- known Presbyterian preacher. Jnst after he had finished life theological course, the tremulous thought--a thought which it seems had never oc­ curred to him before--of facing a large anil fashionable audience, began to op­ press him. He at length asked per­ mission to experiment with a small congregation in the country. The re­ quest, of course, was granted. He was not at all embarrassed when he stood in the presence of the modest country people, and at once began to proaoh with a fearless ardor. His eloquent utterances grew warmer and warmer. An old negro, unable to longer restrain his feelings, sprang to his feet and began to shout. The doc­ tor's church believes but cautiously in the running over of the cup, and the loud hallelujahs, the violent acknowl­ edgments of sanctity, and the eccentric didoes of the old negro annoyed the doctor. It would not do, though, to command him to desist, for he saw that the people looked with profound rever­ ence upon the performance. Old IkeP, for such was his name, receiving an un­ expectedly strong twinge of the "fluence," leaped high into thq air. When he came down the stove-pipe fell. The doctor, probably moved by sud­ den faith, cried out: "Pick it up, Uncle Ike, it won't burn you." The negro seized the pipe with both hands. He dropped it, cast a reproach­ ful look at the preacher, and said: "De hell it won't!" The devout people, forgetting that the flesh is under "cut throat" mort­ gage to the devil, roared with laughter, and the preacher, observing old Ike looking at his hands and shaking his head, snorted and brought the services to a close. "Why didn't you hold on to it, Ike?" someone asked. "Wyn't who hoi! on ter it?" "You, of course." " 'Ca'se I wa'n't dar ter hoi' on ter it. Wa'n't Iny bidnez ter hoi' on ter it jes' at dat time. Leinme tell yer dis fack. De Lawd mout o' been somewhar in de house, but de old debil wuz in dat stovepipe, sho. I wuz fooled dat time, but arter dis I do&n kere how much I'se b'ilin' ober, I ain't gwine ter tamper wid hot iron."--Arkansaw Traveler. He Got His Customer. The following story is told of an en­ terprising New York jobber, the events having taken place some years ago: The merchant in question, having heard of the arrival of a country trader who was known to be a large purchaser and of unquestionable credit, was resolved to get him to visit his establishment, and, once there, he felt sure he could secure him as a customer. He accord­ ingly sent out one of his drummers, of w hom he had quite a number, adapted to every taste and disposition. The one sent, however, returned without suc­ cess. No. 2 was dispatched, with no better result, and again No. 3, and so on until all had gone and come back without their man. The merchant now determined to go himself, and, finding that brandy and water and free tickets to the theater were of no avail, for the country trader did not take one or go to the other, he was reduced to the necessity of employing a ruset which, as the sequel shows, was simple as well as effectual. On taking his departure after a pleasant interview the merchant took care to commit the "mistake" of taking the trader's hat instead of his own. Next morning, as was expected, the merchant received a prompt visit at his store from the country trader, who came to look up the liat which he supposed had been hurriedly exchanged. This was what the merchant wanted, and through this means sold a good bill of goods and secured a regular customer.--Dry Goods Chronicle. Plants of the Zones. In a recent lecture in London, Mr. J. G. Baker estimated the total num­ ber of characteristically tropical plants at from 40,000 to 50,000. The plants of the north temperate zone embrace about 20,000 species. Tho Arctic zone has less than 1,000 species, while the higher mountain regions posaibly fur­ nish 2,000 more--a total of 3,000 species of what gardeners call alpines, that is, plants specially adapted to a cold, damp climate with a short summer. Mr. Baker estimated that 4(5,000 species of plants are represented in the posses­ sions of Great Britain. BURNING peOMOTIYKS. ̂ is Essentl»l TlilngwWhy Machinists Arm Vnnnixnuhil in Driving Fast Trains. .Comparing the capability of locomo­ tive engineers and machinists in the actual running of an engine, an old and experienced railroad official said: "The claim of machinists that they can take the places of locomotive en gineers in case the Brotherhood should ever strike, in retaliation for the refusal of the engineers to join the strikers, is all bosh. The best engineers we have are those who have been advanced from the fireman's side of the engine to tho coveted seat on the right-hand side of the cab. They know how to handle the machine as well as an experienced horseman can handle his racer, and are imbued with a spirit foreign to fear. They don't know the weak points of an engine as well as the machinist might, but this fact is an argument in their favor and one against the claims of the machinist. I have seen the experi­ ment tried, and the result is an almost invariable failure on the part of the machinist to meet the requirements. They lack the nerve, and knowing that a locomotive has weak points, do not care to take the risks the fireman, who has been promoted, knows nothing of, nor does he, as a rule, care to ktoow. It would be utter folly to take a machinist out of the shop and put him on a fast train. He couldn't pull it. His nerve would fail him and he would be compelled to give it up, while. the engineer who has gained his knowledge in the cab, readily assumes his new duties and handles the throttle without a thought of fear entering into the dis­ charge of his duties." "Can you cite incidents?" asked the reporter. "Yes," responded the official. "It w.ould be manifestly unfair to give the name of a man who made a failure, but there is an incident I vividly recollect where a machinist was ambitious to be­ come an engineer. He finally suc­ ceeded in getting a freight run, and did so well there that he was transferred to a passenger. The change was marvelous. His train was nearly always behind time, the conductors were fret­ ful, and innumerable complaints were made. The machinist-engineer, a good, reliable man, by the way, was finally brought before his superiors, and, when questioned, frankly admitted that he was afraid of his machine. 'I can't do it,' he said, his expression of counte­ nance verifying his words. 'It makes me dizzy, and I lose my confidence every time I attempt to make time. I'll have to give it-up. I wouldn't run a locomotive forty miles an hour for a fortune. I couldn't. It would make me gray in a year's time.' "He was relieved, and returned to the shops, and was the happiest man the day he returned to histoid place within the entire building." "Can you recollect an incident of the other sort ?" "Oh, yes, a number of them; but one particularly--that of poor Woods, of the Panhandle, who went blind, and was compelled to retire from active life. I have sat on the same seat with him in his cab, and he didn't know what fear was. He was running the limited express on the Panhandle, and was considered the best engineer on the road. His train was never late, unless occasioned by delays over which he had no control. It was always fas­ cinating to me to sit and look at Woods while running at the highest rate of speed. He was a long, gaunt man, with a keen, piercing black eye, and a fierce black mustache, giving him the appearance of an ideal bandit king. He invariably leaned forward frnm his seat, with one hand upon the throttle and the other upon the lever, every muscle and nerve alive and active, his eye straight ahead down the track, and, aB his engine throbbed and shrieked, and seemed to lift itself clear of the rails, as it sped along at a terrific rate of speed, the motion of his body was in keeping with the action of the machine, making him seem a piece of it. Woods could stop an engine quicker than any man on the line, simply because his nerves were always at their highest tension, and the strain tipon his system had much to do with hia misfortune. I saw him once, after a noted Cincinnati oculist had informed him that there was no hope of saving his eyesight. Woods was nearly heartbroken and died in a very short time after he was compelled to leave the road." "Isn't it a littlo peculiar that the man who builds an engine cannot run it as well as one who has learned merely the operating of the machine in the cab?" "Not at all. The machinist knows how delicate the mechanism is, and knows just where the weak points are. It is this knowledge that unnerves him. On the other hand the fireman gazes with pride upon his powerful courser, and all he cares to know is the delicacy of control which will induce the iron steed to make the best time or pull the heaviest load. He sees only the strength of tho engine, and does not permit the weak paints to prey upon and unman him. It is like any other business. The machinist knows how it ought to be done, but the engineer, who was once a fireman, by his experience hae learned how it is done, and feels as much at home with his hand on the throttle as the ma- chinifd; does in grinding his lathe."--St. Loiitt Globe-Democrat. PEKKERT has determined that in the Swan electric lamp the proportion of the energy transformed solely into light is 28.1 per cent.; in the Siemens, 27.9; in the Edison, 26.5; and in the aro lamp,-38.3. Sunset Cox in Egypt. But the Nile! Old Egypt! Osiris, Isis, Horus, Bamesis, Thotmes--gods and kings--temples, tombs--dust! What a picture of contrast I have seen--con­ trasts with our living, moving, electric life in the United States! I wish my ex­ perience had been received without so much real, unpleasant dust from my poor gorge and eyes. Thedtlst of sixty centuries, if immaterial and historic, is well enough, but one seeking relief from the harsh, cold and wet weather of Constantinople ought to have a rest at Luxor without donkeying amid the everlasting rocks and dusts of the ages. Well, wo have been to the Boulak Museum, where the imagery and sym­ bolism of the Egyptians (and the Greeks who followed in tho same work) is to be seen without being pulverized. It was a summing up of our trip and observation. What Mr. Maspero and Brother Wilbour--you know Wilbour, formerly of tho Tribune--told us at Luxor, and what we saw at Dendarah, Abydos and other places was realized over again at the museum. It is a superb collection. After going the rounds, I asked for a peep at Thotmes m ., our own de*r scriptural Pharaoh, so beloved of tho Hebrews. They opened the lid of the sarcophagus, and I had a good look at him. Ho has seen many vicissitudes since his handsome interment, for you may recall that he, with others, was removed from the tomb of the kings on the Arid mount* fins of the XM ̂eutarb on tb« iMst side of the Nile to another and obscure plaoe. But at last he turned up, with Lis natural and official certification with him that he was *'removed for cause." The antiquities of the Nile, after ail, are the live folks. The people aro too many for the green belt which runs be­ tween the deserts, or else they are too lazy. They seem to work so slow, and most seem to be born ever so tired. Egypt owes over five million dollars to foreigners, and these poor fellahs slave away. Going over to Abydos last week, twelve miles through fields of beans and barley and groves of palm, we passed all the population en route turned toward the canals near the Nile, with their hoes to 'dig for no pay. Gov­ ernment ordered them out, and so they go, like cattle. Last night we saw the Khedive at a ball at the opera house, with all the for­ eign insects who prey ujyoa theso peo­ ple. The Khedive talks like a genial, pleasant person, but he has no power. The English are here to stay, in spite of all professions. A Wonderful Mexican Garden. Cuernavaca is celebrated as the home of the conqueror Cortez, says a corre­ spondent of the Providence Journal, and the site of his curious palace of hewn stone. But it is just as cele­ brated for the great Borda Gardens. The Borda is not what it once was, when the hand of neglect was lifted from its wonderful forest of flowers. This beautiful garden has been sad ever since the death of its imperial lover, the arch-duke of Austria, Maximilian, emperor of Mexico. The vegetation is unkept, and the dishevelled foliage falls over the trees, till they seem almost human in their sorrow and resemble that poor demented woman in the Eu­ ropean castle who still fetidly fancies that the golden rim of Mexico's crown rests on the head of her husband Maxi­ milian. In this mournful garden the branches of the trees seem twisted in paroxysms of pain and flung in desper­ ate and threatening attitude towards the sky. The great pond is covered with a mantle of green, that crape of waters. Tlie shaded aisles are deserted. The only gardeners who water the flowers are the clouds -of heaven; the only workman who trims the trees is sombre autumn. But on entering this spot the sentiment of admiration is at once aroused. The visitor instinctively en­ ters on tiptoe as if he were treading some enchanted ground, as if he feared to wake the birds asleep upon the branches, the dryads hidden in the old ash trees or the nymphs under the never ruffled water of the ponds. Pace to face with nature in this lonely trysting place the heart of the tourist is drawn out towards nature, while love for the beautiful is led by the hand of fear through the scented walks of La Borda. The silence of solitude rests over the thousands of acres. The voice of man is unheard. But the trees, the bending flowers, the rippling streams and the soughing breezes seem to speak. Outside the garden the tropic sunlight of the Tierra Caliente falls like molten lead; inside the air is refreshing, and the aisles arched with giant palms are as cool as the aisles of a great cathedral. The first feeling experienced is such as is felt when one enters a great palace. But here no liveried lackey or armed slave tries to eject us. The dryads do not issue from ash or cedar to dismiss us. This great garden cannot be compared with the uniform and earefullv cultivated gardens rou&d the City of Hfexico. It is an im­ mense forest of flowers and fruits. Eveni the dead pond is of unusual proportions! Maximilian of Austria, prince and artist as he was, spent there the happiest hours of his stormy reign in Mexico, but the angel with the flaming sword drove him and his brilliant Canlotta out of that para­ dise, never to enter agaip. Never again will that romantic adventurer tread those suspended gardens, like the hanging gardens of Semiramis, poised above the Tierra Caliente that lies below those cliff's. The gardens cover some of the most beautiful mountain slopes in all the state of Merelos, where they were first laid out by Count Borda, a Spanish miner, who became a millionaire by precious metals he extracted from the celebrated Tasco mines in the state of Guerrero. They are desolate and de­ serted now. But some new Mexican or American millionaire may some day people with marble statues those deep forests, and may throw heaven's sun­ light down through those roofs of fra­ grance. Then will disappear that spell of enchantment. . Cortez and his mistress, Malluche, will then no longer haunt La Borda, nor the "foot steps of return" be heard of Maximilian and Carlotta. Mexico's children of to­ morrow may play in those now silent shades and under those talismanio trees. • - • Great Thoughts. The good we can each accomplish in this world is small. The good that all men in all ages could accomplish if they would is vast. But in order that this may be done eaoh working being must serve his own generation and do his part to render the next generation more efficient. -- T. D. Woolseij. When you make a mistake don't look back at it long. Take the reason of the thing into your own mind, and then look forward. Mistakes are lessons of wisdom. The past cannot be changed. The future is yet in your power.--Hugh White. Get into the habit of looking for the silver lining of the cloud, and when you have found it, continue to look at it, rather than at the leaden gray in the middle. It will help you over many, hard places.--A. A. Willets. Always say a kind word if you can, if only that it may come in, perhaps, with singular opportuneness, entering some mournful man's darkened room like a beautiful firefly, whose happy convolu­ tions he cannot but watch, forgetting his many troubles.--Arthur Helps. Doing nothing for others is the undo­ ing of one's self. We must be pur­ posely kind and generous, or we miss the best part of existence. The heart that goes out of itself gets largo and full of joy. This is the groat secret of the inner life. We do ourselves the most good doing something for others.-- Horace Mann. It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thor­ oughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.--George Eliot Something with a Stick In It. "Can't you give us something with a stick in it ? asked Mr. Smart ie, putting a quarter on the soda counter and wink­ ing knowingly. "Oh, certainly," said the polite at­ tendant, and he wrapped up a bottle of mucilage and swept the coin into the drawer.--BOH ton Commercial - Bulle- tin. - • : . JTHK acrobat in the circus is really the man who introduces the spring styjei. Artemis Ward. Calling upon Mr. Lincoln on ou, 'of the darkest days in the late war, I was surprised to see upon his mantel-pieoe a couple of volumes--one a small Bible, the other Artemus Ward, his Book. "Do you read Artemus Ward ?" I asked him. "T. don't rei.d anybody else," he answered, with a smile on his care-worn face; "he is inimitable.'/ In the plain building before which we are standing the inimitable showman first set up his "wax figgers;" and if we enter here we may encounter the assistant editor of the Plaindealer, who was the associate and intimate friend of "A. Ward" when the latter was the city editor of this joyrnal. He has many anecdotes to tell of the genial showman. He describes his appearance, when he first came to the office, as decidedly rustic. He was, he says, long and lank, with flowing hair, and loosely fitting coat, and trous­ ers too short in the legs and bagging at the knees. His humor waa irrepressi­ ble, and always bubbling over, and he kept all about him in a constant state of merriment. He was a wag--nothing but a wag--but in that line a genius. He could see only the ludicrous side of the subject. Going away once on a short vacation, he engaged this gentle­ man to perform his work during his absence. He carefully instructed him as to his duties, and in doing so drew from his pocket a tow string about a foot and a half long, and told him he must furnish that amount of copy per day, leaving on his desk the measure as a re­ minder of the quantity. About this time he was called upon to respond to a toast to the Press at a Ben Franklin festival held in Cleveland. He rose to his feet, hung his head for a few mo­ ments in silence, and then sat down, having said nothing. In his account of the festival in the next day's Plaindmler his speech was reported by a blank space of about halt a column of elo­ quent silence. This gentleman remembers that soon after "A. Ward" entered the lecture field he was invited by a theatrical man­ ager in San Francisco to deliver a course in California. The season being close at hand, the manager asked him by telegraph; "What will you take for forty nights in California? Answer immediately." Ward answered im-' mediately, by telegraph, "Brandy and water." The joke waB noised through­ out the State, and the result was, when Artemus went there to lecture on his own account, he was met everywhere with overflowing houses. While engaged in lecturing in-the West, he wrote this gentleman the following epistle: "MY DEAR GEORGE,--I want you to do me a favor. I relied on one of my men to save me the press notices. He didn't. Will you col­ lect them for me at once, and send them to me at the Dates House? Now this is taxing your good nature, but you'll do it for me--won't vou, George? Do you know that you remind' me more and more of the noble Romans? I don't know who they were, but you remind me of them; you do, indeed. And could I have appealed to one of those noble 1 tomans to cut out some press notices for me in vain? I guess not Go on, young man, go on. Deal kindly with the aged. Remember that we are here for only a little while, and that riches take unto themselves wines and fly away. Intoxicate the shunning bowl Support your county paper. Love the Lord, and send me those notices. Write like­ wise. And now, kind sir, farewell. FarewelL " 'When other lips and other hearts--' "Your'n, tiiy pretty gazelle, "A. WARD." --Edmund. Kirke, in Harper's Maga­ zine. " Her Aim In Life. Most Americans visiting in Paris dur­ ing this century encountered Madame Mohl, who was as peculiar and charac­ teristic a feature of the city as l'Arc de Triomphe or Lef Champs Elysees. One well-known artist writes of her, "Her salon was the last relic of the days of the first empire. She was Kecamier, without her beauty. The foremost men of France for seventy years were her friends. No foreigner of note came to France without paying court-t^ this woman, who had neither^ rank nor wealth, but whose vivacioukcharnijyaa so potent, even at eighty. found her," continues the writer, "a little witch-like creature, in an old frousy gown and slippers--her hair a gray mop--who sat perched on the arm of a sofa while she talked. But her voice was music, her eyes full of smoulder­ ing fire, and she hod a magic power of drawing out the best thought and wit of her companion." The queen of Holland coming with her suite to breakfast with her, Madame Mohl invited MM. Thiers, Mignet and other leaders of France to meet her. "And what will you give them to eat?" inquired an anxious friend. "Ah, sois tranquille!" she said, care­ lessly. "My cook sometimes gives me very good lobster. They will like that." The day after the breakfast, the queen called, and found Madame Mohl dust­ ing her drawing-room, with the clean linen from the laundry piled upon the table. But the little woman's breeding was equal to the emergency. Laying down her duster, she met her guest with as calm grace and cordiality as though the room was a royal hall and she the queen. She had the true idea of hos­ pitality. She gave her finest thought and feeling through the medium of a cup of tea ond a cracker. This woman Bet out in life without beauty, rank, or fortune, with one pur­ pose, and she succeeded in it for ninety years. "I had but one object in my life," she said, in the last year of it. "To please. I have only to regret now that I missed some opportunities of devoting more care to it. Car," she added, after re­ flecting, "au fond, il n'y a que cela!" (For, after all, there is nothing but that!) During her long life she was sur­ rounded by a buzzing crowd of brilliant friends, who came to her to be gratified and pleased, ond went away satisfied. Yet when she died, it was remembered that no great "movement for the help of mankind, and no littlo movement for the help of individuals, ever emanated from her famous salon. She had no principle, no honorable, wholesome ideas, no religi­ ous truth, to support. She never spake a word which made a ma.i or woman permanently happier or tiuly better. She had chosen her work. She lived but to pleose; and having ceased to please, she sank into nothingness. When a woman sets herself a single aim in life, and pursues it with such in­ tense zeal, she will probably succeed. In another life she will be asked whether the. aim was worth the sacrifice she made to it.--YotttlCs Companion. Reshaping a Grindstone. The use of reaper and mower knives* is apt to get the grindstone very un­ even. The grooves thus made spoil the grindstone for any other use than grinding sections. Sharpening a dull spade, by which tho whole width of the stone will be ground down level, is the best mode of removing these inequali­ ties. With a littlo labor the alone may be made as good as new. For an axceptable kompanion in life, give me the fello who thinks mostly az I du or az some one else thinks when I tofnt him to. ffce United States After (le Berth* tivnary War. At the time of our Revolution, the difficulties of traveling formed an im­ portant social obstacle to the union of, the States. In our time the persons who pass in a single day between New York and Boston by six or seven dis­ tinct lines of railroad or steamboat are numbered by thousands. In 1783 two stage coaches were enough for all the travelers, and nearly all the freight be­ side, that went between these two cities. The journey began at 3 o'clock in the morning. Horses were changed every twenty miles, and if the roads were in good condition, some forty miles would be made by 10 o'clock in the evening. In bad weather, when the passengers had to get out and lift the clumsy wheels out of deep ruts, the progress was much slower. The loss of life from accidents, in proportion to the number of travelers, was much greater than it has ever been on the railway. Broad rivers like the Connec­ ticut and Houstaonic had no bridges. To drive across them in winter when they were solidly frozen over was easy; and in pleasant summer weather to cross in a row-boat was not a danger­ ous undertaking. But squalls at some seasons and floating ice at others were things to be feared. More than one instance is recorded where boats were crushed and passengers drowned, or saved, only by scrambling on ice floes. After a week or ten days of dis­ comfort and danger the jolted and jaded traveler reached New York. Such was a journey in the most highly civil­ ized part of the United States. The cdse was still worse in the South, and it was not very much better in England and France. In one respect the trav­ eler in the United States fared better than the traveler in Europe: the dan­ ger from highwaymen was but slight. Such being the difficulty of traveling, people never made long journeys, save for very important reasons. Except in the case of the soldiers, most people lived and died without having seen any State but their own. And as the mails were irregular and uncertain, and the rates of postage very high, people heard from one another but seldom. Commer­ cial dealings between the different States were inconsiderable. The occu­ pation of the people was chiefly agri­ culture. Cities were few and small, and each little district for the most part supported itself. Under such cir­ cumstances the different parts of the country knew very little about each other, and local prejudices were in­ tense. It was not simply free Massa­ chusetts and slave-holding South Caro­ lina, English Connecticut and Dutch New York, that misunderstood and rid­ iculed each the other; but even between such neighboring States as Connecticut and Massachusetts, both of them thor­ oughly English and Puritan, and in most all their social conditions almost exactly alike, it used often to be said that there was no love lost. These un­ speakably stupid and contemptible lo­ cal antipathies are inherited by civil­ ized men from that far-off time when the clan system prevailed over the face of the earth, and the hand of every clan was raised against its neighbors. They are pale and evanescent survivals from the universal primitive warfare, and the sooner they die out from human society the better for everyone. They should be stigmatized and frowned down upon every fit occasion, just as we frown upon swearing as a signal of anger and contention. But the only thing which can finally destroy them is the wide­ spread and unrestrained intercourse of different groups of people in peaceful, social, and commercial relation. The rapidity with which this process is now going on is the most encuoraging of all the symptoms of our modern civiliza­ tion. But a century ago the progress made in this direction had been rela­ tively small, and it was a very critical moment for the American people.-- Atlantic Monthly. Planting of Fruit-Trees. If the acre has been enriched and plowed twice deeply as I have al­ ready suggested, little more is neo^s- sarv in planting than to excavate a hole large enough to receive the roots spread out in their natural positions. Should no such thorough and general prepara­ tion have been made, or if the ground is hard, poor, and stony, the owner will find it to his advantage to dig a good- sized hole three or feet across and two deep, filling in and around the tree with fine rich surface soil. If he can obtain some thoroughly decomposed compost or manure, for instance, as the scrap­ ings of a barn-vard, or rich black soil from an old pasture, to mix with the eaf&i beneath and arouyd tivi good effects will but in no instance sh from tlie stable, or any decay before becomi brought in contact Again I repeat my ca planting too deeply--om monest and most fatal err< tree be set about as deep! before removal. If the tree be planted early in the spring, us it should be, there will be moisture enough in the soil, but when planting is delayed un­ til the ground, has become rather dry and warm, a pail of water poured about its roots when the hole has been nearly filled will be beneficial. Now that the tree is planted, any kind of coarse manure spread to the depth of two or three inches on the surface as a mulch is very useful. Stake at once to protect against the winds. Do not make the common mistake of plant­ ing too closely. Observe the area shaded by fully grown trees, and you will learn the folly of crowding. More­ over, dense shade al>out the house is not desirable. There should be space for plenty of air nnd sunshine. The fruit from one well-developed tree will often more than supply a family, for ten or fifteen barrels of apples is not an unusual yield. The standard apples should be thirty feet apart. Pears, the dwarfer growing cherries, plums, etc., can bo grown in tho intervening spaces. In ordering from the nurseries insist on straight, shapely, and young trees, say three years from tho bud. Many trees that are sent out are small enough, but they are old and stunted. Also require that there should be an abundaneo of fibrous and unmutilated roots.--E. P. Roe, in Harper's Magazine. Needs Best. Friend (toacquaintance)--"Why, what have you pasted all these leaves of paper together for?" Acquaintanoe--"Have a use for 'em. You see I am to read an original scien­ tific article before the Electric Associa­ tion and have just taken fifteen pages from an encyclopaedia. I tell you what it is, heavy writing tires a man. No wonder my doctor tells me that I need rest."--Arkansaw Traveler. BASQUES for geaeral wear are not at all changed in shape from those worn .for two seasons past. ma and F©nr£ "7'v, 'JiJK' & THE Knights of Labor are bring about doya of prosperity.- ton Courier. ' J i ? "I WIU, block your little game," tc-' the auctioneer aaad to tfie owner of the.vv attached giunbling house. n t WHEN you see a man tormenting monkey you may know he has very lit-r, tie respect for his ancestor*.--rtfaveri tck. CLAHA LOUISE Kmooa is wedded ' for life to high-heeled boots; yet thejf^y say that Clara isn't married. --Maver-> tck. "WHEN Mr. F. goes fishing," writest?. " " a correspondent, "he never comes horned , • '*> empty." Alas! that is the case with tod. * <• many fishermen. <\ ' \OITNG Wife--"John, mother sayssbtf «' \ ' wants to be cremated." Young Hus-k band--"Tell her if she'll get on he## V things 1 11 take her down this morninsr. ~ ' -Tid-Bits. v _ AN Atlanta man is dying from the»", - bite of a mule. When a, mule becomect, • dangerous at both ends it is time tcjf propound the conundrum, "Whither «Te we drifting?" - . (. PKOFESSOR -- "Does my question*. , trouble you, sir?" Student--'No, sir^ > not at all. But I-am a little in doubtl how to frame my answer so as to give*., • you the precise information for whicW * you seem to ask." A PLUMBER, in looking for an obstH - nate obstruction in a waste-pipe, founc| ' part of the crust of a 10-ceut pie.. By; " hard pounding he got it out, and th# family dismissed a careless servant.--iv. ' fc Louisville Courier-Journal, , "Is JIM BTTLLARD hangin' 'round these parts nowadays?" asked apassen^; ; ger from a car window of a Dakota citi* ' -' zen. "Jim was hangin' 'round las#« week, stranger." "Did you Bee him?'^ - "Oh, yes; I had hold of the rope."--- Neiv York Sun. IT is stated that poets in Italy live 'tcR?, „• be nearly 90 years old. This longevity is doubtless achieved in that sunny lan<^f - • by the poets taking the wise precaution of mailing their poetical effusions to ed­ itors instead of calling Norristown Herald. <?$£ in person. C. Dodge. When ye beau gave to ye glii Ye winter sealskin bonnet .; • It hod ostrich-plumes and tunli, i(* . As well as brown fur, on it. '!**- [•[ Whan ye spring-time came, and mljl 3?;- To her "Unclo'e" bore yo bonnet, Through the summer then it bad Vifdeen tollara" also on it. --Rambler. "You say that you have plajed* fllfi^ beth?" said a New York theatrical man-' ager to an applicant for a position. "I have acted the role of Macbeth fourteen times." "Well, let me hear you repeat • his defiance to Macduff." O, I never got so far as that. The audience always : made me quit before I got to that part." --Texas Siftings. IN jogging through life8you often shake hands with a college graduate of brilliant talents in whose pockets silver seldom jingles, while Cincinnati, it is said, has a newsboy worth $20,000. It don't make much difference in this < country who a man is or what he makes; it is what he salts down that counts.--Chicago Ledger. "DAD! Have, you any particular rules about loading when you're off for a day's shoot?" "Nothing very partic­ ular, I generally make the charge half powder and half shot." "That's your rule, is it ? (asjde) 'Pears to me I'v«,': seen you when^ you've forgotten about the half powder and contented^ yourself with the half shot."-- Yonkersts Gazette. "I'SE got a complaint ter make," saidl Jim Webster to his employer, an Aus­ tin merchant. "What is it?" "Do bookkeeper kicked me, sah. I don't want no bookkeeper ter kiok me." "Of course he kicked you. You don't ex­ pect me to attend to everything, do you ? I can't look after all the little details of the business myself."--Texas Siftings. ^SPEAKING of hotels," said White- goods, "how's the old Paragon House, down at Elmington? I'm going down there next week." "She's a daisy," re­ plied Notions; "best house in that county by all odds." "It used to be a pretty hard old tavern." "Yes, I know; two or three years ago. But it's wonder­ fully improved now." "Yes." "O, yes. Burned to the ground. Total loss; ho insurance."--Brooklyn Eagle. CHESS NUTS. 'TWHS growing lata. "Miss Katie, (oeM," Exclaimed the beau with glee, - "Why does a man who's playing ohflM • Put you in mind of me?" "Because it takes so long before He makes a move," yawned Kate, "Oh. 110!" ho oried, a little sore, "Because he tries to mate." "Ijtuow a better answer yot." 1 smiled, "which you may gneM." (shop,' dearest, I must get fn 1 my 'queen' possess?" she answered with a yawn, ais game a match; B8 players alwujs watch a pawn; on a ways--pawn irWatch." % "3*1 f f * 5 */ • Siinting Stories. inn by the name of Johnson, .Cfcimty* Indiana, who has hunler, told a story that once offW^time he saw a fine turkey gobbler on a tree, and, taking sure aim, he fired. Being a good shot, and tho turkey not far off, he was surprised that it flew away. Going under the tree on which the turkey sat, it was found that he had shot the fowl's head clear from the body, awhile the latter had flown away. A bystander declared it was true, for, said he, "I was coon hunting in the same woods Johnson shot the turkey's head off and the turkey flew away, and by the light of the moon discovered a very large, fine coon. Taking a good aim, I fired, and down came--" "The coon ?" inquired several voicos. "No, his tail. I had shot it clear from the body." "And did you get the ooon?" "N-0-0-0. It skipped by the light of the moon."--Detroit Free Press. • Stuck on Her French. We know a San Francisco woman who is so stuck on her newly acquired French that she has forgotten how to read English. She went to a church fair not long ago, and was heard to whisper anxiously to her husband: "John, John, mon cher, what is that sign over the booth where that jolie fillo is standing? 'Le Monade?' I know what the le is, but I can't make out the monade. Oh! Mon dieu. Think how I shall feel if someone, knowing my proficienoy in French, a3ks me to translate it." John (who does not care much for French nor the church fairs either)--"Well, I call that plain, or- 1 dinarv, sour, wet lemonade, and what­ ever it is it is marked twenty-five cents a glass, so come away from it."--Phila­ delphia Record. THE working of the good and brave, seen or unseen, endures literally for­ ever, and cannot die.--Carlyle. A JOKE is not so durable as a church t bell. After it has been tolled a few tunes it is worn 01& - .'j J .