TJ1E COCNTRT OF MCKERT D{OK. Wo floated away la a cool canois, , . V I MkA tho baby With »v« of 1>1»; And off by Banks where the pdgiples grenr, ̂We •ailed for the land of Dicker? Doe, To and fro, i*i ' To and fro, „.T .. . Ui. . Mltttw land of slumber ant manmT4*HV- fijUjfc ' Land of fleams *,'"*• • '*• And fanciful droams, Oh, a beautiful country is Dickary Obat - %'•* 1 '• The clouds are loir and the trees go by. And baby closes a wide little eytv . . There's a breeze in the air and a sigh froay til* 1 And baby,dear baby, is going to sletgb . i; \,t, Bleep, sleep, Going to sleep, ' 5t-,v Then the eyes op<" in a lazy peep; * Now a wee smile, r •' Then for awhi le * i.-" Timmn are confused in a maiy hea|% V * <Ilasp her close, yon shadows of evo; ; f»; iLight and shade in her future -weave, r Shade to soften the glare of the lightL "s - Light to render the shade more briga) ,f Here and there, ~ *v Here and there. Fairies are dancing all thro' the air--< Kfv Musical singing, - Mystical ringing, • Wonderful tones from the distanoe - i * ite moor our boat and we wander far " ' Off thro' the land where tlic fairies are, . . • '0-H The heavens are bine as tlie Kmnmeflwa, y . * The sea as blue as the sky can be. *, ' - ' : Round about, •' -* Bound about, ,Y'.; v IWry-like forms Hit in and oat; , > Gleaming and glancing, ?i,; . Dreaming and dancing, *o , * V Hither and thither in spellbound rout, ; Ve pass the poppies ; they're all asleep, ' wodmng and sighing in slumber deep. , Over the hill com. s a soft low strain, ; ; : The moon is out nnd beginning to wane, V-: To and fro, %, v To and fro, i- Slowly rocked in the moon we go; The wind is soughing,' , The poppies bowing, . Oh,la wonderful country is Dickery Doe J *~£>urra Morgan Smith. THE LITTLE CANDLE MAKER. ~JL Stoty of the Crescent City. BY CHABX.ES E. WHITNEY. If ew follows the stream of early wor shipers that poors out of the old St. Louis * Cathedral after low mass, he will notice that the greater number pass down the •Hey on the north side of the edifice and distribute themselves up and down the Jftue Royal. Just below this Hue St. Anne . grosses the more busy thoi ougkfare, and is but a stone's throw from the Cathedral. The immediate neighborhood thereabouts lias an air of sancititv and ecclesiastical Suiet about it that is due, perhaps, lo the lose proximity of the great parish church. Show windows are brilliant with gilt ernci- 4xes, altar candlesticks, communion Wreaths and ornate rosaries; and as temp tations to the eye of youthful lovers, little %lue velvet prayer-book look coyly ont from kiding-places on their shelves, inviting the - de vout gallant to make the heart of his , belle flutter by such a present. Artificial flowers in great clusters bloom in handsome Sevres vases, and near them tasty biscuit Vessels for hbly water fill up the garniture 'v'.Jtf the store windows. Here one could, in fact, furnish all the altar paraphernalia for fither a grand Cathedral or modest private fhapel, and when high mass is sung in the -i>ld building so close at hand, it is not ditfi- | fult to imagine each window an altar, and - iinBoen acolytes swinging their incense- v jiolders as the rich organ tones fill the lit- • lie side streets. t , Around the corner from Royal street, on *- f>t. Anne, for many years stood a one-story -J. -bouse fronting immediately on the street. The years had evidently some ill-will to ward it, for the weatherboards seemed more dilapidated, the chimney more tottering. And the green mossy herbage on the roof more grasping in its clutches on the shingle , roof than any thereabouts. Just before: the fire of a few years ago it was what would be called a ' tumble-down affair," but in 1851 it had a somewhat more pre sentable appearance. This was perhaps due to the neatness and taste of that dap- jper little old maid, Mile. Pierrette, who occupied the premises, rather than to its architectural qualities/ Every spring she 'had the outside regularly whitewashed, and the heavy shutters given a coat of glossy green that quite renewed the youth of the old building. Like the larger stores around tHe comer, her front room had caught the ecclesiastical spirit, and in two large, up right glass cases hung in long rows, the results of the energetic maiden's handi work. Not even a modest* sign or other notice gave testimony to the world of the articles , to be found on sale within, but all the Creole population knew the place. Every year, just before the time when the little ones take their first communion, the store would be crowded with children, selecting their tall wax candles for the interesting ceremony. Mile. Pierrette commenced the manufacture of altar candles, so it was re ported, away back in the days of General Jackson. In fact some of the envious shopkeepers over the way intimated she .had made the wax lights for the marriage of some of the old Spanish hidalgoes when they occupied Louisiana, but these sarcastic remarks were due, perhaps, to jealousy of the little lady's thriving trade. No matter how long ago it was when she commenced the business, it is nevertheless true that for delicacy of taper, grace of ornamentation, rtbd purity of wax, there were no communion candles in New Orleans that could compare with them. Even the tinsel paper with which she adorned them had a chic about it no one else could copy, and the tall ones, meas uring nearly five feet, were marvels of the candle-maker's art. It was a source of much satisfaction to her, on great church occasions, to stand far back in the cathedral, near the vestibule, and looking over the heads of the congre gation. gaze with pride on the hundreds of soft lights, all from her hand, that shed their mellow radiance on altar and picture. She had never been known to miss a mass, not even during the cholera time of 1847, and her reputation as a devotee was not less than her renown as a candle maker. Ex cept in the shop she was never seen else where than in the cathedral, and the sweet- faced Madonna looking down from the pew could hardly be said to be oftener seen than Mile. Pierrette.' n. Way back in tbaiwentiesayovaglady of remarkable beauty produced quite a stir in New Orleans society by her varied accom plishments and rare conversational powers. With an aged father she arrived from the West Indies, and soon afterward presided over a handsome establishment in the French quarter of the city, purchased by her indulgent parent at the sale of an estate. Her artistic taste was said to be exquisite, and from the imitation of natural flowers of wax to the execution of an oil rj painting, she excelled all amateurs ever • seen here before. Modest and unassum ing. she heard the praises that were show- ered upon her in an unaffected, charming manner, and even her rivals could not but admire her girlish grace and naive frank ness. It was not Ion a before she had many admirers at her feet, for her reputa tion for wealth was most enticing to those seeking a fortune in marriage. Conspicuous in his attentions was .. ; young gentleman of pleasing address and :,t _• promising ability, whose name just then was in everybody's mouth. At a celebra tion of the anniversary of the battle of New Orleans he had delivered an oration that had attracted general attention, and the press of the city was loud in praises of its exquisite sentiment and loftv rhetoric. Baoul Chapj>elies was a law student in the office of an old attornev, and. like many others, was poor. A gambling father had left him without a sou of his mother's es tate, ind ut the age of 19 hfe had com. menced the study ®f the law, subsisting on what he could make by commercial collec tions. His family connections gave him the en tree into good society, and, poor as he was everybody 6aw a brilliant future before him. The beautiful West India girl and the law student met frequently, and it was easy to see that the young man hnd made a deep impression. The father of the girl at first 8re tended not to notice the advances of ;aoul, but as month after month passed and the acquaintance between them ripened into an intimacy, he startled the daughter one morning by the announcement that he would admit Raoul no more to his house. The fiery, impetuous temper of the girl was arouse d at this, and for some days she would not leave her room or hold commu nication with her father. Surreptitiously she conveyed billet* dour to linoul and mutual love was acknowledged. There were stormy scenes in that big bouse on Esplande street. An old negress was placed on guard over the girl. Her meals were sent to her room, and hor only promenade was in the back garden of after noons. Love laughs at locks, and a regu lar correspondence was kept up between the lovers through the hairdresser that came every day to assist the young lady in her toilet. ' One morning in May all this ended. A family carriage containing an old gentle man and his daughter stopped near^ the wharf occupied by West Inoliau schooners, and both alighted. A number of trunks were carried on the Tres Hermanos.and that fleet little vessel was soon oft its way down the river bound for Porto Rico. Two months subsequent a young gentleman, well rec ommended, entered the college at Grand Coteau to study for the priesthood, and by a coincidence Society at the --w- missed Raoul Chapellea. ni. , With the budding of the trees and the first warm breezes from the South, Lent of 1850 was ushered in, and all good Catholics crowded the Cathedral to hear the gifted father who had just taken charge. The re port of his eloquence had been such that it was said another Massillon had come to earth. His fervent sermons produced quite a religious excitement wherever he went, and New Orleans was not slow to pay him homage. His success here was not less than elsewhere, and never before had such congregations filled the old edifice. Benevolent, ever attentive to the wants of his flock, and leading the life almost of a saint, he so endeared himself that his parishoners looked upon him not only as a religious adviser, but "warm friend. The success of his first sermon was not abated by the many that followed, and two years after he had taken charge his popularity- was unbounded. It was abont this time that a lady in re duced circumstances opened a litte store on St. Anne Street, and for awhile supported herself by the sale of artificial flowers and in giving music lessons.. It was reported that she had relinquished all right to a large legacy conditioned that she should ne » er visit Louisiana, and had come to New Orleans on occount of former pleasant associations. There were many rumors afloat as to the reason of this sacrifice, but the little lady evaded all questions, and the gossippers were left to surmise. She at tended church regularly, never failing to be there when the good father preached, but always left just before service was over. This had been noticed by many. Once she met the father in the alley below the Cathedral almost face to face. She hastily drew her veil down and hurried by him, while the dignified pere walked on entirely unconscious of the little woman's efforts to hide her face. Years passed, and the trade in altar candles had become one of the recognized industries of that section of the city. Of mornings, the neatly-dressed proprietress of the establishment could be seen deftly at work ornamenting those tall ones of wax, putting on here a leal and there a bit of sil- ered paper until they grew into gorgeous affairs. One evening the shutters of the front window, wherein were exposed numbers of these candles, were put up earlier than usual. It was remarked that an old negro woman performed this labor, and not the little Mile. Pirrette. Then it was reported that the little lady with the white cap and fichus across the way was very sick. As it grew darker the wind began to blow, howling under the eaves, whistling through the railings of Jackson square, and moaning up among the bells in the cathedral spire. At first it caught up the loose bite of waste paper lying around French Market, until the air was filled with flocks of wingless paper birds. Then it grew more savage and dug into the interstices of the square block pave ment and scraped out every loose particle of dust and sent it Bkurrying in clouds down St. Anne street. Then came the rain, big drops at first, followed by drenching torrents. The sacristan was called down stairs by a ring at the rectory bell. A woman was dying and needed the priest. Through the storm, guided by the old negress, the father made his way slowly and was not sorry to find that he had not far to go. He went into the little candle store on St. Anne's street, where he per formed the last sad officeis to the uncon scious little proprietress of the establish ment. The negro woman said afterward, Mile. Pierrette gave a start as the priest entered and tried to talk--that was all. In the old mahogany armoir, among the pile of snowy-white linen was found a etter which puzzled those who opened it. It read: "My name is Hortense Du- large, and not Mile. Pierrette. My love brought me back to Louisiana, but it was too late. The only glimpse we have of heaven on earth is true love reciprocated. Fate denied me that. Show this to Father and he will understand., I 6^ w and leave all my property to the church. It was Bigned with a firm hand sealed. The funeral was impressive and the ser mon one of the most touching ever preached, for old memories were awakened in the heart of the gentle priest, memories he had long since buried. The littte candlemaker's own candles shed a soft radiance on altar and chancel, but like her life, they had last flickered and went out, and the Cathe dral was left in darkness. A Celebrated Cave. There is a famouse house and cave at St. Emilion in France which tourists through the region rarely pass without a •visit. The historical associations are memorable. It was at this place, in June, 1793, that seven of the" leading Girondists--the deputies of the Gi- ronde--thrust out of the national con vention, proscribed and condemned to death, took refuge in the house of one Madame Bouquet. She was sister to one of them--Gaudet. During the day time they remained hid in a cavity deep down in the rock on which the town is built; the only access to it was by de scending thirty feet into a well by the well-rope. The brothers of the Chris tian Doctrine, wfyo inhabit the house, have cut a staircase down to this cele brated cave, and it is now easily reached. At night the refugees used to ascend and sup in Madame Bouquet's house. Thus the. "ved for seven months, and the corner of this grotto where Louvet wrote his Memoirs by lamplight--not the Memoirs of Fatiblas, which were a freak of his youth --is still shown by the brothers. As the months wore on the situation became imjjossible, and the Girondists, in desperation, left their re treat. Three were soon caught and guillotined at Bordeaux, and the others, pitilessly tracked from place to place, were at last found in the^fields, dead of hunger and exhaustion and half eaten by wolves. A CORRESPONDENT of the British Medical Journal, writing from Cape town, Africa, after thirty years' ex perience in every malarious climate, is tirnily of the belief that quinine given in three-grain doses, as a propliylatic to any person for a month previously to his subjection to spec ial malaria in fluences, will be attended with results which will surprise the giver. If only given when men are suffering from fever the results will be as ourprigingfy dis appointing. "THE FORGOTTEN MAN." A Very Pleasant I'uper on » Very Com mon CIMR of Mvn-Caritwpondiug CIMHI of Women. Ben Jonson wrote a play call ed " Tbe Silent Woman," but the best dramatic character yet evolved in America is Pro1'. Sumner's "Forgotten Man." Tin's personage appears, not in a romantic fiction, but in a sober treatise on polit ical economy. He is, in Prof. Sumner's view, "The man who has watched his own investments, made his own machin ery safe, attended to his own plumbing, educated his own children and who, just when he wants to enjoy the fruits of his care, is told that it is his duty to go and take care of some of his negli gent neighbors, or, if he does not go, to pay an inspector to go." In other words the Forgotten Man is the obscure wheel-horse of the whole community. Taxes mean in the end sums collected from him; philanthro pies, sums begged from him. Granted that Prof. Sumner sometimes carries what may be called the severe school of political economy pretty far, there is no doubt that his Forgotten Man--who, as he justly remarks, is very often a Forgotten Woman--is a profound con ception, and likely to serve as a perma nent type in literature than anybody whom the realistic novelists have yet descril)ed. "W e are all ̂ Bhinfnllv familiar with the Forgotteftsifan in our own experi ence or observation. If lie is not, as Sumner s&ys, what we all ought to be, he is at any rate what Ave sometimes have to be, whether we will or no. Other men may make themselves pic turesque by eccentricities, or interest ing through errors, or dangerous with crimes, or helpless because of^xcesses. They achieve more or les3 of fame in this*way; they figure in novels, or poetry, or the police records, as the case may be; but sooner or later they or their children, or their victims, or all these together, come back upon the Forgotten Man, who must feed and clothe anil house and provide for all. If any are ill he must nurse them or send them to the hospital, for which he pays; if any are mischievous and dan gerous to the whole community, he must take charge of them, and must build the prisons where they are to be restrained. For nil this he gets little credit; indeed, he is well off not to be denounced as a mean wretch, a Sliy- lock, and a "bloated bondholder" for having saved where others were spend ing, in order that he might take care of them when their money was gone. The most prosaic and uninteresting mem ber of a family or a community is often he on whom all the rest fall back when their brief and brilliant career is over. Previously he had been the Forgotten Man, but he is remembered at last. Every man or woman who has been careful to make both ends meet knows, bv middle life, the truth of this picture. Who is so gay, so joyous, so affluent, as the man who has wasted his last dollar and is living on his friends-- tyat is, on the Forgotten Man? For him all pinch ing parsimony is forever ended. "What is the use," says one of Dick en's char acters, "of living cheap when you ain't got no money V Might as well live dear." Thackeray has pointed out that a man never spends a shilling so freely on cab hire as when he does not know where his next shilling is to come from. Nor does returning prosperity over throw the habit when once fully formed. I knew a man of great social attrac tions who had notoriously lived by bor rowing money, though he was reported to live free at a certain hotel because his conversation made the table so agreeable for the other guests. At length a tide of unexpected income set in, and he amazed a friend to the last degree by actually repaying $50 that he had borrowed of him. It was of no use; a few weeks later he came to the same friend to effect another loan. "No, indeed," said the former creditor; "you have deceived me once, you never shall have another opportunity." The de ception, be it observed, had consisted in repaying the money, contrary to all precedent and to the destruction of his character as a professional borrower. It was some thing incongruous, like the case of those old women who die of want with $1,000 put by in a stocking. The form in which the appeal comes oftentest to the Forgotten Man or Wo man is that of the customary provision for the families of those who have seen better days. A subscription paper is sent you for the household of some ven erable philanthropist or eminent public man. These influential people spent money freely in their day for hospital ity, or generosity, or what not. You often wished that you could be as lib eral in these ways; because you were not, you put something by, and now you are called on to give that and more to provide for that deficit. In their palmy days these good people had ex cellent opportunities to lay up some thing for old age or' for their heirs; but as they preferred not to do it, you are expected to pay their debts and fiup- port their children. What they lav ished on dinner parties or on philan thropy--it makes, for the present pur pose, little difference which--would have made for them the provision now expected from you.--Harper's Bazar. Some Bird Characteristics. The editor of the Dial gleans the following curious facts, in regard to the characteristics of birds, from Upland and Meadow, by Dr. Charles C. Abbott: "Dr. Charles C. Abott, of New Jersy, is well known in scientific circles as an able naturalist, with a rare faculty for investing the records of his observa tions with a popular interest. He has for a number of years been a valued contributor to scientific magazines, and has meantime published several books containing the fruits of serious and pro tracted study in various fields of scien tific inquiry. A volume just frpm his hand, entitled "Upland and Meadow," hints by its title at the broad range of Iris investigations. It is filled with a naturalist's notes, taken at all seasons of -the year and hours of the day, in the region, limited and yet illimitable, ly ing within an easy stroll from his own house door. Dr. Abbott's observations are fresh and original. He speaks of no creature which he has not something new to tell about. With bird-life lie is particularly conversant, and it is par-, tieularly gratifying to know he does not gain his knowledge with gun in hand. He destroys neither birds nor nests to learn new facts in their history. After long watching, he arrives at the conclusion that the female birds of every species are exacting, obstinate, and tyrranical. It is a depressing statement, vet the author remarks that this, with other such proofs of individu ality 'are artong the most convincing evidences of a high degree of intelli gence.' Unraveling an old nest of the garkle, Dr. Abott oounted 482 twigs and 204 blades of grass whioh wre woven into the structure. Placing a bunch of colored yarns within reach of a Baltimore oriole, building Its domi cile, the bird appropriated the gray threads only until its nest was nearly finished, when a few purple and blue tit reads were used. Not a red or yellow or green strand was taken. A host of ingenious experiments of a similar na ture have been practiced by the author, to test the instincts aud habits of birds, and with curious and amusing results. His book is a treasury of novel obser vations in natural history, which scien tists will prize not less than the untech- nical reader." A Pious Fraud on a Bridegroom. I was once an attache at our legation at Frankfort in the days of the old Ger man diet, writes Laboucliere in London Truth. Our main business used to be to celebrate marriages. A religious ceremony was optional; if the bride and bridegroom did not demand this, the process was summary. They had each to sign and swear to a declaration that there was no cause why they should not be married, and to pay a sovereign, which was transmitted to the bishop of London, in whose diocese all our foreign legations were supposed to be. One day I was sitting in the chancery when an aged Englishman entered. "I want," he said, "you to marry my daughter." At first I understood that he wished me to be the bridegroom, but lie explained that I was only to be the celebrant, and that she was to marry a Frenchman. "He is a scoundrel," he observed. "Then why," I asked, "let him marry your daughter?" "He has, alas!" he replied, "gainedher affections, and if he does not marrv her lie will run away with her." "I suppose that you are rich?" I said. "I am nyjre than rich," he replied; "I have an in fallible system at roulette. This is my daughter's dowry; and it is to learn the system that the Frenchman marries her." "Well," I said, "come with the pair to-morsow "morning, and we will marry them." The next day they ap peared and were married. The girl was a pretty .blonde, but the man was not precisely an individual to whom a wise father would either have intrusted his ducats or his daughter. After the ceremony the happy pair went to Wiesbaden, and the French man--now the possessor of a bride and a system--commenced ' to play the latter. It was an absurd one--a sort of progression on certahi numbers on the roulette board; but the curious thing about it was that he always won, and actually made several hundred francs by it. ' A few days after I was explaining all this to a French secretary of legation. He startled me by the observation that while the English girl was the wife of the Frenchman, tlie Frenchman was not the husband of the English woman. If we told him this I was afraid that he would leave the bride, who would re main in the singular position of being a wife without a husband. So we agreed that the French secretary should send for the bridegroom and practice a pious fraud. He explained to him that while he was really married, he had violated the law by getting married before ful filling the legal obligations, and that for this he was liable to punishment. The only way, he added, to get out of the mess was for him to be married again at tfhe French legation. Luckily, the man knew nothing about law, so the knot was at last effectually tied around his neck. A Dog That Could Count. Old Fetch was a shepherd dog and lived in the Highlands of the Hudson. His master kept nearly a dozen cows, and they ranged at will among the hills during the day. When the sun was low in the west, his master would nay to his dog, "Bring the cows home"; and it was because the dog did this task so well, that he was called Fetch. One sultry day he departed as usual upon his evening task. From scattered, shady, and grassy nooks, he at last gathered all the cattle into the moun tain road leading to the distant barn yard. A part of the road ran through alow, moist spot bordered by a thicket of black alder, and into this one of the cows pushed her way, and stood quietly. The others passed on, followed some distance in the rear by Fetch. As the cows approached the barnyard gate, he quickened his pace and hurried forward, as if to say, "I'm here, attend ing to business." But his complacency was disturbed as the cows filed through the gate. He whined a little, and growled a little, attracting his master's attention. Then he wTent to the high fence surrounding the yard, and stand ing on his hind feet peered between two of the rails. After looking at the herd carefully for a time, he started off down the road again on a full run. His mas- tar now observed that one of the cows was missing, and he sat down on a rock to see what Fetch was going to do about it. Before very long he heard the furious tinkling of a bell, and soon Fetch appeared bringing in the per verse cow at a rapid pace, hastening her on by frequently leaping up and catching her ear in his teeth. The gate was again thrown open, and the cow, shaking her head from the pain of the dog's rough reminders, was led through it in a way that she did not soon forget. Fetch then lay down quietly to cool off in time for supper.--E. P. Roe, in SL Nicholas. Kansas Laws in Regard to Murderers. The most curious law in the United States dealing with punishment of murderers exists in Kansas. The Legislature in 1872 passed a bill which provided that any person convicted of murder in the first degree should be sent to the penitentiary, there to re main until the Governor of the State signed a warrant and fixed the date of his execution. ' This was a fearful responsibility to place upon the execu tive, who would hesitate before being directly responsible for the death of any man, no matter now heinous his crime. The responsibility was shifted from the jury or court, to which it properly be longed. That law is still in force, and the result has been that the Kansas penitentiary is crowded with murderers, as no Governor would order their exe cution. Forty-one convicted murderers, four of whom are women, could l>e hung any day by order of the Governor. Some of their crimes are unparalleled in the annals of cold-blooded assassina tion. One of these days, unless tliat strange law is repealed, there will be a grand hanging tournament in Kansas. The State will electa Governor pledged to rid the community of a band of cut throats. It may stated that the law was a neat beat of strategy on tlie part of the opponents of capital punishment. It seems thus far to have fulfilled the expectations of those who desired to see hanging played out.--Cincinnati En quirer. REASON cannot show itself more re asonable, than to , rawnjUig on things above reason. ' -T . - Managing a Hnsband. One of the greatest mysteries of life to me, w rites an observ ing Southerner, and one that still remains so after much thought and study on the subject, is just how some women do manage a hus band so charmingly, while others make such doleful failures. I was a" visitor on one occasion in a certain household where the man of the house was not an object of the least solicitude on the part of any member of the family; in fact, he was simply tolerated as a sort of draft-horse to keep the family machine moving. , The impression seemed to pervade the minds of his wife and chil dren that he staid down-town all day "having a good time," telling stories, and having innumerable "nips" with that mysterious "other man," «md that the hard, dull routine of business was the last tiling that he ever troubled himself about. I used to feel really sorry for him when he would coqie home at night with such a care-worn and troubled look on his face, for I knew only too well what an exacting wife he had, who literally kept his flose to the grindstone. She would eve him suspiciously, and in a harsh, fretful voice ask him "why he did not coipe home sooner," and then would com mence such a series of questioning and such a regular siege of systematic nag ging that if I had been a man and in his place it would have driven me out of the house. Not a bit of it. This wife knew her man. and the man was used to this sort of "home rule," the one ob ject of his life being to keep peace in the family. Instead of reading the riot act to his domestic tyrant and asserting his authority as I have seen other men do under similar circumstances, he was one of the most amiable of husbands and complied with every demand of his wife with the most loving submission. What is strong meat to one would be poison to another, and I would not ad vise you to try this walk-over .system until other means have failed. Some men love to be petted and praised, and if they don't get it at home they are pretty apt to seek it elsewhere. All the crying and scold ing you can do will not "keep them in at night." They are jolly and jovial in disposition, and love good company arid congenial companionship, and the world is full of just such "jolly fellow^"; and if trie counter-attractions of home and fireside are i^>t brighter and better than they can find outside, the lesser attractions will go to the wall. These are the sort of men who have been used to the gentle, tender ways of loving mothers--mothers who used to look at them with fond, appreciative eyes which even the film of death can never blot from their memory, who had al ways kind words of welcome, to whom they could always take their boyish cares, disappointments, and aspirations, feeling assured of that sympathy which was ever alive and responsive, kindling a flame of love" that brightened every shadow of their boyhood days. There are any number of men, espe cially among the soft-hearted of their sex, who dearly love to be managed. They glory in hearing the persuading voice- in their ear and to feel loving arms around their necks. A petition supplemented by glowing tenderness, although the object of the caresses may be well understood, will be granted before it assumes Bliape in words. They take a pride in their quietness, enjoying the situation immensely, from the very consciousness of their su premacy. Being masters of the situa tion, they observe with inward amuse ment the little artifices and wire-pulling of the fair diplomats and pardon them for the mere pleasure it gives them of yielding. They never lose sight of the fact, however, that if necessity required it "they could kick over the traces and smash the whole equipage into a thousand splinters." Woe be unto the woman who loses sight of this fact herself by this seeming go-as-you- please pace to be betrayed into drawing the reins too tightly and rendering these Samsons restive, and force them to the conclusion that they have been too indulgent, and that it was about time "to put a stop to all this sort of thing." When to draw a line requires the most discriminating judgment on the part of a wife on all matters pertaining to domestic bliss. Men are perverse animals at best, and are dreadfully jealous of their prerogatives as lords of creation, and being the head of at least their family, when they know their power is recognized and properly acknowledged in the household, they sel dom feel there is any occasion to rise up in their strength and assert their authority. There are many stupid husbands who do not know they are being managed, and many clover women who make their husbands believe they are the most submissive of wives, gaining control of them without once alarming or wound ing their self-respect or vanity, making them think the way they are being led is just the way they had planned; but I believe, after all, the best advice I can give you, my fair bride, is the same as a wise woman once said to her only married daughter: "Give your hus band his own way for twelve months and you will have yours for the rest of your life." His First and Only Love. Miss Birdie McGinnis has been pay ing a great deal of attention to Tom Anjerry, a student at the University of Texas. Her affection has been recipro cated very liberally by Tom. Still Birdie is not quite sure that Tom is a safe young man to tie to, so she pro ceeded to cross-examroe the witness, so to speak. "You still love me as devotedly as efibr, do you, Tom?" "Why shouldn't I love you, Birdie? You are my first and only love." "How about that red-headed girl you went ont riding with when* you were in Dallas last week ? Is she also your first and only love ?" "No," replied Tom, calmly; "she is not my first and only love. She is my second and only love." "No sale. All bets off," remarked Tom as he walked out through the front gate.--Texas Siftings. Like Oliver Twist. "Mr. Featherly," said young Bobby, "who was Oliver Twist?" "Oliver Twist," explained Featherly, indul gently, "was a character created by Dickens. You must read the book when you get a little older and then you'll know all about him." "Was he anything like you?" "Like me? Oh, no." "How's that, Clara?" inquired Bobby, turning to his sister. "Didn't you tell Mr. Featherly in the hall last night that he was like Oliver Twist, always wanting more ?" A RAII.WAY man accused of drinking beer while on duty calmly assured the superintendent that he was the victim of color-blindness, and supposed he wae drinking wate*/ The Rosso-American Telegraph and deorge Kennan. Tlie name of Mr. George Kennan is inseparably connected with the Russo- American Telegraph, an enterprise which, though thwarted and rendered unsuccessful by circumstances, de serves to be recorded as one of the most remarkable undertakings of the century. Mr. Kennan was one of fhe small company which spent two years prospecting for the telegraph line through the wilds of Siberia, and in his book, "Tent Life in Siberia," he has given a most graphic and entertaining account of the difficulties and labors of the expedition. TJie EussO-American Telegraph Company, or, as it was more properly called, the "Western Union Extension," from its connection with the Western Union Telegraph Com pany, was organized at New York in the summer of 1864. The idea had first been proposed by Mr. Perry Collins, who made a trip across North ern Asia in 1857, but it was never seriously entertained until the failure of the first Atlantic cable. Mr. Collins submitted his plan to the Western Union Company in 1863. It proposed to run a line through British Columbia, Russian America, and Northwestern Siberia, down to the mouth of the Amoor River, where it should con nect with the Russian lines, and had the advantage of needing no long cables, as it could run overland .through its whole extent, except for a short distance at Behring's Straits. In August, 1864, Col. Bulkley, an officer prominently connected with the work of military telegraphy during the war, was appointed engineer-in-chief of the pro posed work, and went out to San Fran cisco, where all preparations in fitting out vessels, etc., were to be made. The Russian and British Governments had agreed to forward the work by co operation. Two parties were to work in British Columbia and Russian America, and the third was to operate in Siberia. Preparations were slow, and the company's vessels were not ready for sea until June, 1865. At that time it was decided to divide the Siberian party, sending some of them to the mouth of the Anadyr River, on the north coast, and the others in a Russian vessel to Kamtchatka. Among the latter company, which was the first to start, was Mr. Kennan. These were landed at Petropaulovski on the Kamtchatkan coast, and thence they journeyed on horseback to the head of the Kamtchatka River. They ~ went down 240 miles on rafts to Kloochay, in log canoes up the Yolofka River to the Yolofka Pass, where they crossed the mountains on horses to Tigil, and in the same way journeyed up the west coast to Lesuoi. The long arctic winter had now begun, and they con tinued their explorations on sledges, part of the time drawn by reindeer, but principally by dogs. They reached Geezhega, an important Russian settle ment, November 25. In spite of the severity of the weather the surveying work was mainly carried on in the winter, as the moss tundras are quite impassable in the summer season. In tlie spring of 1866 the whole exploring party, seven in all, met at Geezhega, after having gone over the entire route of the proposed telegraph from Anadyr- Bay to the Amoor River. In seven months these fearless adventurers had traveled an aggregate of almost 10,000 miles. In June vessels arrived with supplies, and native laborers were set to work cutting poles for the telegraph along the Anadyr and other rivers. This work was carried on during the entire year, and in the spring of 1867 about 900 men were thus employed. In June, however, word was received that the Atlantic cable was a complete suc cess, and the overland line to Russia was abandoned. The Western Union Telegraph Company had already sunk $3,000,000 in the enterprise, but as it never could be made to pay in com petition with the Atlantic cable, the scheme was given up, the laborers paid and discharged, and the laborious and courageous surveying party recalled to take part in other duties. The reader anxious to get a vivid idea of the people of Siberia, and the peculiarities of dog- sledge travel, can not do better than read Kennan's account of this expedi tion.--Inter Ocean. President Johnson's Amnesty Procli*ma« ' tion. There were fourteen classes excepted from the benefits according by the am nesty proclamation of May 29, 1865. These were: 1. Civil and diplomatic officers of the Confederate government. 2. Former United States judges who had aided the rebellion. 3. All mili tary and naval officers of the Con federate government above the rank of colonel in the army or lieutenant in the navy. 4. All ex-members of Congress, who had taken part in the rebellion. 5. All who had resigned commissions in the United States army and navy to evade duty in resisting the rebellion. 6. All who treated persons taken in the United States service otherwise than lawfully as prisoners of war. 7. All absentees from the United States for the sake of aiding the Confederate cause. 8. All officers in the Rebel service who had been educated at the United States Military or Naval Academy. 9. All Governors «>f the States in insurrection. 10. All persons who left homes within the jurisdiction of the United States and passed through the military lines for the purpose of aiding the rebellion. 11. All persons who had engaged in doing injury to the commerce of the United States upon the seas or lakes. 12. All persons in custody of the United States as prison ers of war. 13. All persons owning property worth over $20,000 who had voluntarily taken part in the rebellion. 14. All who had taken the oath of al legiance under the proclamation of 1863, and had again taken part with the South. Any of these classes might make special application to the Presi dent for pardon, which would be granted if "consistent with the peace and dignity of the United Stated. "-- Inter Ocean. . England's Drink BUI. According to Dr. Dawson Burns, our drink bill last year was less than it has been since 1872, with the exception of 1880, when it stood at £122,279,275, as against £123.208,760 in 1885. The maximum was reached in 1876, when it touched £147,288,759. The improve ment is perceptible, the decline being £3,000,(X)0 in the twelvemonth, but there is still ample room for a further decrease. At present Dr. Burns calcu lates we spend £4 2s per head, or £20 per family, in alcoholic beverages. In other words, if we could confiscate to a socialist fund all the money spent in drink we could endow every family in tlio land with a minimum income of 8s a week. The conclusion is so vast that we suspect there must be an error some where.--Pall Mall Gazette. IN life's great army you can find the Summers at the front. : F PITH AND POINT. A rat ought to lid made of fly paper. NOBODY likes to be shaved by a check raiser. WORKING like a horse--a lawyer drawing up a conveyance. "AH, Mr. Hebbleton, I hear that vou have been called to the ministrv." "Well, I can hardly term it a They only offer me $500 a year. Sort of a whisper, you understand." IN leap-year Japanese girls who - want husbands set put flower-pots oi| the ftont portico as an emblem. In this country they sit out there them selves with a young man as an emblem. WHAT THEY TAKE. John Ball in the morning takes soda and. brand* And rich arf an' art* for a noonor, $ But the festive Canadian ^ -1 And blue-nosed Arcadian-- < Tn®y take the American schooner. <>Z --Boston Courier. ' THE youth who thinks it is a manly thing to swear, smoke cigarettes, and drink lager will in a few years want somebody to kick him for having enter tained such an idiotic notion.--Boston Courier. _ MRS. SOCIETIE--This ffcshion maga- zine says the male domestic servant is rapidly disappearing from the best houses. Mr. Societie--Yes, and the worst of it is, the daughters are disap pearing with them.--Chicago News. "SPEAKING of eccentricities," said Poppleton, "my father is an example. He has not cut off his hair Bince the election of James K. Polk." "Indeed: his hair must be very long by this time." "Oh, no, the old gentleman was bald before Polk was elected"--ArkaWHUti Traveler., - j CALL THE POUCS. "I cannot feists yon, Anna dear, ' % 'Twill brood you endless hate.* , "And why'1" the wife besought, "IdoAlr l Your wit appreciate " - • < " "You don't? said he, "then surely The daily news have missed-- You'd hated bf, because, my love, •' Yo^'il be au Anna-kissed." „•" •; --Yonkers Gazette. •: / THE Anglican Bishop of Peterbor ough is a great orator„ At the close of his great speech on the Irish Church he sat down amidst a tempest of cheer ing, and being somewhat flurried, he took up Wilberforce's hat instead of his own; but, as he was about to put it on. "Sam," stretching out his hand, said, "We will exchange heads if you like, but not hats." COULDN'T SEE HIS FA.TTI.T8, He was a most emphatic, willful, stiff-necked, systematic, mental, spiritual, erratic, and a most de, raded creature; He was given to frivolity and most unseemly jollity, and had no single quality a.% a re deeming feature. He was full of injudiciousnesa and insolent officio uBiiess, and conntless kinda of viciousness deformed hia reputation. A sapless imbecility, a lack of strong virility, a monstrous incivility, acd moral obfusc^ tion. Yet bis steps were all. attended, all his freaks and whims defended by a retinue of splen did, rapt, extravagant extollers. For this vicious, mediocre, cracked, erascible old croaker was a rich and bonded broker. and was worth a million dollars t --Lynn Union, "NEVER under any circumstances do anything to excite a cow while- milking her," sagely remarks an agricultural paper. Quite right, quite right--we never do. It never really seemed to be necessary to do anything to excite a cow while we were milking her. When a cow begins to kick with both feet hard enough to knock the hoops off a tin pail and then puts her tail up in the air and goes racing around the edge of a foil-acre field with a cloud of dust following her we don't see hoxf any sane person could think for a moment of shooting off fireworks or doing any thing else to excite her.--Enlelline Bell. BICHARDJGRITANT WHITE, while dinm)^ at an English country-house, was askei* by the brother of the hostess, with great earnestness, "Is it true that in America the women sit on juries?" "Yes," answered Mr. White, in the most matter-of-course way; "all of them who are not on duty as Sergeants or dragoons." A Yankee lady while visiting England was complimented by a British officer upon her English and asked if she was not peculiar in this re spect among her countrywomen. "O, yes," she replied, with nonchalance; "but then I have had unusual advan tages. There was an English mission ary stationed near my tribe." What Students Should Bead. A young man's very desultory read ing will perhaps be one of the most useful means for finding what his life's career should be. Knowing himself, or being known, as has been said, by those directing him, and by his own discursive readin^having learned what work for his peculiar abilities is open for him in the world, he probably will judge quite readily what line of study he should at first pursue, and following out this clew, at first by the aid of judicious ex ternal guidance, he will with over in creasing self-reliance and discrimina tion, proceed to fulfill the requirements of education and the inclination as his own mental disposition. This method of development is the natural order by which intellectual growth, by means of books, or ^inv other means, proceeds. To make a choice of a certain hundred books for any man's perusal, in his youth or afterward, is but a feat of cleverness, arousing curiosity or won der, but evolving nothing--ending in the choice. ' A man may be possessed of any number of good books; and, possibly, a thousand books may be se lected, all of which would be. by gen eral consent, called excellent, and worth possessing"; and, perhaps, he would be" none the better for them all. Young men do not require a hundred books at once. Indeed, the fewer welLselected books a youth has to begin with, the more safe he is against excessive loss of time. His most important question is not, .what shall I read ? but, what need I read ? The student's care should be to read as little, and think as much as possible. Thus he will find what thing it is that he at any time immediately requires to know, and he will make this pressing need the object of ^ his next acquirement in books. This method tends to education; it develops mental power, and makes a cultivated man. A hundred books procured and read with out appropriate sympathy and interest and thought, will merely make an ani mated bookcase of the man.--Quarterly Review• Bayard Taylor's Notion. Bayard Taylor always insisted that animals recognize and remember the specch of their native laud, and it is re lated of him that, noticing a hippopota mus in Barnum's museum that looked dejected, Taylor spoke to it in English, but tlic beast did not move its head. Then, going to another of the cage, he said in Arabic: "I know you; come hero to me." The beast at once turned its head and listened, Taylor repeated the same words, when the animal came co him and rubbed its head against the bars and looked in the face of the speaker with evident delight. It was £robably homesick, and a sound it had eard in its native load was vastly oaui* fortinp. ; it?.:'-