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!§|c§irMg ̂ khidcalei 1. VAN SLYKE. Ettsrmd Publisher. MCHENRY, ILLINOIS. WHEBK ABK THEXf •. mrtr. a-joms. •> •*:> <•»>%*»«, in Heaven." How nittittBiikll Tit inch was the message the preacher brought As fee Rave to us his morning discourse ' And dwelt upon it till his voice was hoarse. I listened, surprised at what he Raid, It was so unlike what I'd thought or read fe; And a similar surprise from different vienfe. I saw (.grossed in many pewB. Tor one of the charms of that'heavenly place, 'Aside from its help as a means of grace. Was the thought that ministering angel 1 Should be women gathered from many 1 Of coturac mankind may have some show, But womin will rule, as here below, 'With now and then an exception rare, •Where a man objects, though it is "up This world-wide belief must be set aside, , It our preacher's words cannot be denied. And an accepted enjoyment of that other ikon Ho longer serve as an incentive here. On what basis, then, did his argument hold That no -woman can enter the heavenly fold? On this text of scripture, explained with power, ~ There wo.-; silence in Heaven, for half an hour." TOO LATE. ATKIK80V. man (for one thing, ho was twelve or fifteen | me--it had brought with it that turning- I Tents older than I)--only aB a musician. 1 point when I passed entirely from girlhood ; It would bo so nice to have him come up to to womanhood. One year ago the chief the house sometimes and while away a loner evening with bis singing. Well, that night was the beginning of oar acquaintance. At first I found it very difficult to induce Mr. Russell to come to the house, but soon he did not require to be asked, jind his visits became quite frequent. him. He understood the piano thorou ghly, and his singing was perfection. Although not by any means a brilliant conversationalist, he was well-read and thoughtful, and, when he did say anything, Bomehow one always remembered it. His father hod charge of the little square lighthouse at the end of the pier, and once or twice when Tom lit the lamps for his father we went up into the lighthouse together. And, as time went by. I found that I did not miss Billy rerj much. • » •* • • • One evening, Torn (he would not let me call him Mister Russell) had spent the evening at the house, as he often did. He was not just his usual self, for he did not sing at all. He played over a few selections from Chopin and some of Mendelsohn's "songs." I had always preferred that he should sing and play what he pleased, so I iiever selected anything tor him. Up to that time he had never once sung a "love- song. " But on this evening, when it was Retting near his usual time for leaving, he sang to some sweet music of his own com­ posing, Teumson's "Song of Love and Death." Then he closed the piano. As usual I invited him to come again. "Yes," he said; "I will come again, but on "one condition. Esther, I am a man-- though but a workingman--with all of a man's feelings and aspirations. I have spent every other evening with you, now for over a month. The result is what I might have expected, had I stopped to consider whither I was drifting. I, who have netfer loved a woman before, love you. For me it is too late to think of regret, or to wish I had never seen yon. The mischief, if it is mischief, is done. I love you." He had taken my hands in his own and was looking right at and through me with his honest gray eyes. Ah, if he were not so poor--if his work did not make him so begrimed and uncouth'--and then there was Billy, whom I had forgotten a good deal of late. No! It could not be, it was impossible. "Mr. Bussell (how I reeollected the Mister now), yon are very good, bat I never thought of this. 1 like yon so much, but not that way (how stupidly I was talk­ ing), and then there is--there is--Billy-- Mr. Harrington, I mean." "Then good-bye," he said. "I think I have done you no harm; if anyone is hurt it is myself, with only myself to thank for the damage. We will be good friends, if you will permit, but I cannot come and see you--at least, not just yet. You have been very kind to me, and I shall never forget you. Miss Braitbwaite." And that night, for the first time in my life, I cried myself to sleep. I was sorry for Tom Bussell; I think I was just a little bit sorry for Esther Braithwaite, too. No, I didn't imagine that I loved Tom Bussell, but I am sure, quite sure, that I did not love Billy Herrington. Billy came np to White River a few days afterward, and I did not care for his society one bit. One evening, shortly afterward, while Billy was put rowing and trying some fancy movements with his boat, he upset, and, being a poor swimmer, was in great danger of being drowned. Tom Russell, grimy as uj^ual, happened to pass while going home from work, and, seeing the accident, at once swnm out to Billy's rescue. He reached him just in time and succeeded in keeping his head above water until more help came in a boat. I watched the whole affair from the beach, and, if I must tell the truth, I was a great deal more anxious for Tom than for Billy. But of course I was going to marry Billy--I had as much as told 'J'om Russell that--and so I felt that I ought to thank the man who saved his life. The next day was Sunday, and after church I waited, on purpose, 'for Tom, When I thanked him in a clumsy manner for his bravery. "That little thing was easily done," he replied. "All I had to think of was that he was the one man who will make you happy. I hope you will both be happy," he added. Still he seemed to have left something nnsaid. He hesitated, and I tried to help him. "If," I said, "there is anything we can ever do for you, please let me know." "You can do something for me now, and do it alone," he answered. "You have a blue ribbon around your neck. When I first saw you you wore the same blue rib­ bon and a white dress. That is how I al­ ways see you in my mind--that is how I shall mostly think of you iu the future. Will yon give me that ribbon?" The ribbon held a locket given me by my father. Unfastening the ribbon, I gave it to Tom Russell, with the locket. "I should thank you, but I cannot. Good-bye," he said. And as he spoke Billy sauntered np. Billy was angry. "What do you mean," he exclaimed, "by gossiping with that fellow? And making him presents, too! I shouldn't wonder if you go down on the pier next, and flirt with the sailors!" "Why, Billy, are you crazy? That is Mr. Russell, who Baved your life. The least I could do was to thank him." "I offered the fellow money," said Billy. "If he doesn't want it, let him go without. It isn't necessaty for you to thank him. Give these fellows an inch and they will take an ell, every time. You will oblige me by not speaking to Mister Russell again." After we returned to the city Billy and I had another quarrel on the same subject. Since then, for the whole year, I have not spoken to Billy Harrington more than three timet;. • • » • • CHAPTER II. N •A little knot of blue. A love-knot strong and true, 'Twill ho-d inw heart 'till life shall part- That little knot of blue." A year after the eventB I have recorded, I paid another visit to White River. It was the same old sleepy village, it's in­ habitants followiug the same old "trivial rounds" and "common tasks." I went there because Aunt Pha be was 6ick--or thought she was--and took a whim to send for me to keep her company. Do not imagine that this is an excuse and that I really went then with the desire to see any one in particular. I did not. I was still, and had been for the year that had past, a common, every-day girl--a "society" young lady--with plenty of friends and lots of engagements to keep me busy and my mind occupied. My lasting quarrel with Billy Harrington had been more the result of stubbornness and spunk than for any sentiment I entertained, in regard to the direct cause of it. One thing it proved to me--that neither Billy nor I cared very much for each other. And yet we might have been married. Hundreds of couples marry and live tolera­ bly happy lives who think less of each other than Billy did of me or 1 of Billy. My folks were sorry--his folks were sorry that we quarrelled, and I was sorry, too, sometimes. Quite often I thought about Tom Russell. But when I did so it was with feelings akin to pity for the poor fellow, buried alive in such a miserable place as White •ad monotonous While River anything by River. For I knew that if Tom Russell way of a change seemed desirable, and so I chose to cast his lot in some lurger place made up my mind that I wanted to become j he could better himself in many ways. He acquainted with Mr. Russell. had told me that he meant to leave White On the following Saturday evening I River when the old folks should no longer saw him go into the minister's house, and j need his care. Until then he intended to I trotted down after him. Of course an j stay by them, for he was their only child Introduction followed, and then I did mv. j nnd, as he said, there were none who loved end of life, to me, had seemed tobemetely pleasure and amusement. Now, I could place a truer and better estimate upon life and its purposes, and I think looked more seriously upon everything. And so it came to pass that when I saw Tom Russell wend­ ing his way to church with his aged mother and when I am lonesome sometimes I take that out of its hiding place and kiBS it-- for Tom. CHAPTBB X. , "A Httle knot of blue, .. A ribbon blithe of hue, * " It fills my dr. ama with sunny jgfearns-- Tha: little knot of blue." >. f It all happened long ago. So long ago that I do not care to remember how many weary, lonesome years have fled since then. And yet I am not an old woman by any means--not past 30 yet; only, I suppose, the time drags so heavily since those two summers of "long ago." I hardly think, if jrou look ever BO closely and apon ever so good a map, you will be able to find the 'village of White River. It is such an in­ significant place, and any way, its name has been changed since the days when I knew it. I don't suppose there ever was, or ever will be, anything very remarkable about the place itself; It was not even a pretty Tillage; there was nothing about White River to make it endurable, except the water. And there was plenty of that, for the commonplace village is built at the Stint where the creek (also known as White iver) empties its shallow waters into Lake Erie. Northwestern Ohio contains plenty of pictuiesque country a few mileB inland, but foe some distance back from the lake shore the scenery is flat and un­ interesting. Then the village is so very ordinary and common, and the majority of the people are so plain and so dnll that I don't really know how I ever concluded to go there, ten years ago, to spend a summer "vacation with my old Aunt Phoebe. But I did, and the days spent by me at White River then and afterwards included among them the happiest of my life--and the saddest. Folks used to say I was a pretty girl in those days. I know I was plump and shapely, and I am sure I was not absolutely homely. Perhaps I was even as the folks said--pretty. 1 know that Billy Harrington said even nicer things than that to me, and indeed, though I was "really and truly" rather a modest girl caring very little for what most folks thought of me, there was a time when I lather liked Billy to make those pleasant remarks to me. Of course you will want to know who Billy was, that I should have a peculiar interest in what he was pleased to say to xne. Well, Billy was one of the rising joung men of our city, and it was com­ monly reported that he would one day marry me. Billy and I thought 60, too, in a quiet sort of way, although there had been no formal engagement. And yet, though I liked him so much, I do not think I loved Billy. He was handsome and «lever. andi hp was very good to .nje^yet ^ repeat, I did not really love him. When I went down to While River it was . understood that Billy, who had a pressing invitation from my aunt, should come up for two or three days at a time whenever he could manage to leave his business in the city. Without this understanding I would not have none. As I said be lore, White River dullness was almost unbearable. Had it not been for bathing and boating, with occasional hoits from Billy, I think I should have been constrained to pack my trunk and de­ part before I had been there two weeks. I am something of a musician, that is to say, I. have a fine musical ear, and have studied harmony under some of the best masters in America. For this reason I have usually fought shy of country churches. I can stand the long prayers, the poor elocution, and the prosy sermons of the paison, but when it comes to four indifferent choiisters singing in four separate keys, while an amateur organist aooompanies them on a wheezy organ in a fifth, my devotion takes a back seat, and my agitated nerves come to the front. So, Sunday after Sunday, I never went to church at White River, though the village boasted of two churches. But the Presby­ terian minister, who was a personal friend of my aunts, would give me no rest until I promised to go to church, which I at last I determined, however, to go late so as to escape the musical, or unmusical, part of the service, and the Sunday after I made my promise found me on my way to church about half-an-hour after all the other worshipers. As I nearcd the church I heard the last verse of a hymn sung, and I congratulated myself on having timed my visit so well; for, I thought, "surely now the sermon will commence." As I quietly entered the church, and took a seat near the doorway, I was both astonished and delighted to hear the notes of a piano, as skilled hands played over some difficult bars, which proved to be the prelude to that sweet, 6acred song of Gounods. "There Is a Green Hill Far Away." The rendition of the piece by the singer was perfect. And the singer? Ah! how often have I wished that I had never heard or seen the singer! How often have I regretted that I did not persist in my resolve never to enter a country churoh! But since I did go to church and did hear the song, I may as well continue my story. ~ The singer there w as a man with a rich tenor voice. When he arose from the piano I could see he was toll and awkward in his movements, while his face at that distance looked positively ugly. But, for my part, I could forgive his homely features and awkward carriage after that exquisite song, •o exquisitely sung. Naturally enough I. asked Aunt Phoebe some questions about the singer. "Oh," •aid she, "that's Russell--Tom Russell. Yes, he's a pretty good singer for this towji to produce, and all the folks who come here from the city rave over his voice--but he doesn't amount to very much; a shop- foreman up at the brass-works, I believe." Next evening Tom Russell passed the house, grimy and dirty, clad in a suit of overalls. Just then he looked like a man who oould do nothing remarkable, and, to tell the truth, I should have passed him un- noticed, even after having heard him sing, had not my aunt pointed him out to me. I suppose at home such a thing would never have entered my bead, but in dull Once I went for a boatride with ; leaning upon his arm, the true sense, along {with a due appreciation, this thorough manliness came to me all at once. I no longer seemed to think of his grimy work and his dirty overalls, no longer noticed the angular limbs and awkward carriage; I only saw before me one of nature's noble­ men--a man with a great soul yearning for the grand and the beautiful, yet content to live and labor in the narrower but holier rut of duty. And that morning I heard no discords as the country choir sang John Keble's morning hymn, for my thoughts were of Tom Russell, as those words fell upon my ear-- "TDH trivial round, tbe common task. Will furnish all we want to ask-- Room to deny ourselves, a road To bring us daily nearer God. Then when Tom sang his usual Sunday morning solo my old interest awakened, and I think it has never slept since. But nearly a week passed before 1 had an op­ portunity to speak to him.* One evening as I sauntered down to the pier we met and greeted each other. .« "I have to start the lighthouse lamps quite often now," he said. "Poor old father is growing very feeble, but he is proud of his more than fifty years of service at the lighthouse, and wants to continue to the end. So long as the lamps are Eunctually lighted they don't care much at eadquarters, and of course they will. be cared for as long as I can do it. Then there was a pause. .y.'-'i "I don't know," he continued, "whether I did right to address you as Miss Braith­ waite. You know there was a Mr. Harring­ ton, and you were going to--" "Yes. I know," I replied, "I was going to marry him, but 1 did not, and never shall. Nor do I think I shall ever marry any­ one." Another pause, and I went on. "Can't von and I be friends, like we once were? Won't you come and see me?" Yes, he would come. And he came on Sunday. It was a lovely but sultry even­ ing, and he sat and sang two or three of our old favorites, and then drifted off into some of the old-fashioned, simple Sunday-school songs that we have all, probably, almost learned by heart, at one time or another. "Do you know," he snid in a sort of apology, "I like these old hymns. On Sunday evenings I always feel good influ­ ences at work within me. Of course it may be sentiment--it doubtless is--yet it does me good 1 am sure, and I imagine that it makes me a better man than 1 might otherwise be. On Sunday nights I feel al­ most like an innocent, happy boy again; all that is best in my make-up forces its way to the surface, and I feel as though it were quite possible for me to be good al« ways, and, at the end, to gain a place in heaven. Perhaps you think it silly and childish for me to talk like this? If it is childish, I like the idea all the better, for we were really good only when we were little children." Then with his rich voice he sang some more of the old, old hymns--hymns which wearied me in my Sunday-school days, but which I now listened to until |I, like Tom, began to feel their strange influence creeping over me. The midsummer twilight lasted until 9 o'clock, and then Tom rose to go. "I must light up for father," he said. „ Together we walked out onto the porch, which overlooked the lake. Though everything was so peaceful, the sky wore a troubled nppenrance. It was partly cov­ ered with heavy, black clouds, tipped with burnished gold, while away in tbe west, where the sun had gone down, lingered great streaks of red. We stood upon the porch for several minutes in silence. Tom spoke first. "Esther, I can only come again on the old conditions. You have said there is no Mr. Harrington now. Will you accept the terms?" What should I ans^-qtl him?, Wh»t could I answer him? Ditv I love him? Standing there, I almost thought I did, but--ah, if I Lad only known then what I know now, I would not have hesitated long. As it was, I stood mutely watching the waters as they rippled upon the beach below, and answered not a word. "Good-bye." he said at last, and turned to go. Some strange impulse took pos­ session of me. Why I yielded to it I can­ not tell. t" Tom, come back," I called. And he came quite close to me. "You may kiss me once Defore you go." best to strike up an acquaintance. I had to do my best, for I found Mr. Russell •Tery shv and reserved. Still, I thought I .could "draw him out," and more than that, '-I thought I should rather like to draw him out." For, notwithstanding his shyness, (here was something pleasant and more him so well as they. Tom Russell was one of those quiet, self-denying heroes of whom the world takes little notice, but who are heroes none the less. I think the first time I saw Tom, on my second visit to White River, I appreciated more thoroughly his true worth and sterling manliness. ithan ordinarily interesting about the man. I For the year that had elapsed had made than aa ordinary year's ditterenoe in Our house--my aunfs house--was quite close to the water and very little more than two hundred yards from the lighthouse at the end of the pier. I saw the lights flash forth from the lanterns and then went to my room. But the air waB so hot and heavy that I could not sleep, so I took a rocking-chair and sat by the open window. Soon I heard singing. There was no mistaking the singer, for there was only one voice in White River like that. It was Tom, who must have remained at the lighthouse. He was singing, more sweetly than ever, some of the old hymns that had been on his mind all through the evening; and with this lullaby borne tome across the water through the still night air, i drifted off to sleep. How long 1 slept I do not now remember, but I was awakened by a terriffic peal of thunder. For an hour the storm of rain and elec­ tricity raged, nnd when it passed away I went to bed and to sleep. As is mostly the case, a magnificent morn­ ing succeeded the storm, and by 7 o'clock I was walking down the pier to woo an ap­ petite for breakfast. On the pier I over­ took old Father RusBel. "Ah, Miss Esther," he said, "I'm come to look for my boy. He hasn't been home all night. I reckon he was tired, maybe, and fell asleep in the lighthouse. But he won't want to be late for his work, so I'll go and rouse him. Half an hour slipped away and he did not come back. Soon it was an hour, and I curiously peeped into the narrow door­ way of the light house. I called, "Mr. Russell," but there was no answer. Then I thought that, instead of Tom, the old man must have come down here to take a quiet nnd undisturbed nap, so I , ascended to the little chamber, bent on satisfying my curiosity. On the stairway I fancied there was a strange odor, like scorched wood, and as I got near the top of the steps I noticed that they were blackened as by lire. I entered the small room, and there, his arm resting on a little window ledge, and his head upon his arm, was Tom Russell--dead. On his knees, bis head resting on the bench close by Tom, was the white-haired father--dead, too! The lightning in striking Tom Russell did not disfigure bim at all; nor had the shock, on finding his bey dead, caused his father any physical pain. Father and son' appeared to be peacefully sleeping, with the bright morning sunshine, reflected from the rippling waters, playing upon their faces. In that supreme moment I was fully con­ scious how well and truly Tom Russell had loved me. His last thought had doubtless been of me, for grasped tightly in his stiffened fingers was the faded blue neck- ribbon which I had given him a year be­ fore. • • • » * I don't remember very much of that ter­ rible morning, nor of several days that followed it. I know I cried a great deal when I was alone. "Prized too late and lost for aye"--it was the old specter of what might have been who appeared to me then. I might at least have made a good man happy. I might have told him I would try to love him. I might have said that 1 loved bim--for when it was too late I knew that I loved Tom Russell. No, it was no dreamy fancy, for nine years have fled since that Sunday evening when Tom Rus­ sell kissed me, and no man has kissed me since. I have the poor little blue ribbon «Ugl| 1 ttrrk Jus dsar> dsad hsndi Don't Brink Too Much. So far aa the mere sensation of thirst is concerned, there can be no question that it is a mistake to drink too much or too frequently in hot weather; the fluid taken in is very rapidly thrown out again through the skin in the form of perspiration, and the outflow being promoted by this determination toward the surface, a new and increasing de­ mand for fluid follows rapidly on the successive acts of drinking and per­ spiring, with the result that "thirst" is made worse by giving way to it. But if we refuse to drink when we are thirsty simply because we shall thirst again, we are imposing a restraint on the activities hy which nature is en­ deavoring to preserve the health. We are doing precisely w hat the irrational homeopaths do, or did, when refusing fluid to cholera patients, or limited the drink of those who suffer from fever. Of course, like produces like in the matter of thirst front any cause, but the like produced is natural; and it is, or rather was, strange to note that in one of the earliest notorious cases of mal­ practice by persons calling themselves homeopaths in England the dogma, Similia similibus curantur, should be flung to the winds, and drink refused to a patient dying of liquid diarrhea, be­ cause, forsooth, the taking of fluids in­ creased the diarrhea and made him more thirsty! We venture to hope that those who are zealously urging the policy of refusing to quent-li their thirst in this hot weather because "drinking makes people more thirsty" will reconsider their policy from the physiological standpoint, and that they will recognize that to thirst and drink and perspire and drink again are the natural steps in a process l>y wjiieh nature strives to maintain the integrity of those organic changes which the ex­ ternal heat has a tendency to impede. The natural and true policy is to supply an adequate quantity of fluid without excess. Therefore do not abstain from drink, but drink slowly, so as to allow time for the voice of nature to cry "enough." There is no drink so good as pure water. For the sake of flavor, and because the vegetable acids are useful, a dash of lemon juice may be added with advantage. The skin should l>e kept fairly cool, so that a sufficient quantity of the fluid taken may pass off through the kiknejB.--London Lancet. Messina. Sauntering slowly past the open doors you see everything between the beaten clay floor and the whitewashed roof. There is the big family l>ed and the small brick cooking range with the charcoal brasier; there are the l ettle and the copper saucepan, the embla­ zoned cupboard or chest containing the family finery, the rickety table in the middle of the room, where the women work in wet weather, and the cheap colored prints on the walls, which gratify their simple tastes. In fine weather, where there is any shade, as a matter of course, the household bivouacs outside upon the pavement The men can generally earn good wages, and the women are industrious, so that on a Sunday or a saint's day they can afford to go out a-pleasuring, and there is a great consumption of fruits and fishes and cheap wines at the frequent vine-shops in the dusty su burbs. Then the matrons and maids, indulging their coquetry, come forth in the contents 0f the cupboards and rather ctkfe would call national costume; the women are far from being good-looking, and regularity of feature is altogether the exception. Yet tlierei s a certain piquancy in the brilliant colors of the bodices and the quaintly-knotted head-gear and necker­ chiefs which, with the silver chains and the gilded broodier, set off the swarthy, sunburned, or olive complexions, and the sparkle of the bright, black eyes, The complexions fade soon, as the fea­ tures grow haggard; but the black eyes continue to burn like carbon under the blowpipe, in contrast with the prema­ turely cadaverous face. Really the most striving and harmonious of the costumes are the every-day wear of the brick burners and the fishermen, who dress in tight-fitting suits, like the devils in "Der Freischutz," which seem charred to the same mahogany tints as the dusky skins of the wearers. There is nothing very special about the beg­ gars, who have been cast promiscuously on thd streets in the Sicilian towns since the charitable convents closed their doors.--Blackwood's Magazine. Barbara Frictchie. A contributor to the Philadelphia Times has been making a careful study of the Barbara Frietchie legend, and shows that there is not wanting, after all, a basis of fact for the pretty poem. Barbara, born Hauer, was a native of Lancaster, Pa., and was nearly 10 years old when the Declaration of Inde­ pendence was adopted. She wept to Frederick, M<L, in early life, and there married John C. Frietchie, a glover. Her husband died in 1849, and she December 18, 1862, having completed her 96th year by fifteen days. It is quite true that she did not like the rebels, and her relative* say that she shook her stick at them when they marched by, and once during their oc­ cupation of Frederick, in September, 1862, she drove some of them away from her door with the words; "Get up, you dirty, lousy crowd, you--get off my porch." She also had a flag which she waved, but it was to the re­ turning Federals. Her grand-niece says that she and her mother went across the street to Mrs. Frietchie's house to tell her not to be frightened by the approaching soldiers, but found that the old lady knew as much about matters as they did, She sat upon the front porch and waved her hand to the Federal troops, greatly to their de­ light. They cheered her, and some even ran into the yard to shake hands with her. In order to save her strength, one of her kinswomen said: "Aunt ought to have a flag to wave," and ran and got one that had been hidden in the family Bible. The venerable wo­ man sat and waved it as the troops passed by, cheering her as they went. The flag is carefully preserved by the niece and grand-niece, and is not rent with "seam and gash," but is simply torn. The story was taken to Wash­ ington by a Frederick woman, and grew in the telling' until Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth sent it to Whittier in the form of a printed slip, which the poet i closely followed. Mrs. Frietchie's niece, however, says that one Frederick ; woman,Mrs. Mary S. Quantrell,actually waved a Federal flag at the rebel troops, but that Stonewall Jackson took no notice of it. . j HE who knows his own incapacity RKLIUI01H BENEFITS OF RUPEB- stitios. Haw It Hm Helped Oat KeUglew Seatl- xuent 1a Um Past, [Atlantic Monthly.] But superstition, it is claimed, begets cruelty, and cruelty is a vice now most rigorously frowned down by polito so­ ciety. Daring spirits like Mr. Besant may still urge its claims upon our re­ luctant consideration. Mr. Andrew Lang may pronounce it an essential element of humor, or a purely specula­ tive genius like Mr. Pater, may venture to show how adroitly it can be used as a help to religious sentiment; but every age has yet vices of its own, and, being singularly intolerant of those it has dis­ carded, i« not inclined to listen to any arguments in their favor. Superstition burned old women for witches, dotards for warlocks, and idiots for werewolves; but in its gentle aspect, it often threw a vail of charity over man and beast. The Greek rustic, who found a water newt w riggling in his gourd, tossed the little creature back into the stream, remem­ bering that it was the unfortunate Asealapius, whom the wrath of Demeter bath consigned to this loathsome doom. The mediaeval housewife, when startled by a gaunt wolf gazing through her kitchen window, bethought her that this might be her lost husband, roam­ ing helpless and bewitched, and so gave the starving creature food. O was it war wolf in the wood? Or was it mermaid in tbo eea? : Or waa it man, or vile woman? • < My ain true love, that misshaped theef The West Indian negress still be­ stows chicken soup instead of scalding water ̂ on the invading army of black ants, believing that if kindly treated they will show their gratitude in the only \av that ants caft manifest it--by taking their departure. Granted that in these acts of gentle­ ness there are traces of fear and self- consideration ; but who shall say that all our good deeds are not built upon some such trestle work of foibles? "La virtu riiroitpas si loin, si la vanite ne luitenoitpas compagnie." And what universal politeness has been fostered by the terror that superstition breeds, what delicate euphemisms containing the very soul of courtesy! Consider the Greeks, who christened the dread furies "Eumenides,"or "gracious ones;" the Scotch who warily spoke of the devil as the "good man," lest his sharp ears should catch a more unflattering title; the Dvak, who respectfully men­ tions the small-pox as "the chief;" the East Indian who calls the tiger "lord" or "grandfather;" and the Laplander, who gracefully alludes to the white bear as "the fur-clad one," and then re­ alize what perfection of breeding was involved in what we are wont to ignorant credulity. Again, in the stress of modern life, how little room is left for that most comfortable vanity which whispers in our ears that failures are not faults! Now we are taught from infancy that we must rise or fall upon our own merits; that vigilance wins success, and incapac­ ity means ruin. But before the world had grown so pitilessly logical there was no lack of excuses for the defeated, and of unflattering comments for the strong. Did some shrewd Cornish miner open a rich vein of ore; then it was apparent to his fellow toilers that the knackers had been at work, leading him on by their mysterious tapping to this more fruitful field. But let him proceed warily, for the knacker, like its Ger­ man brother, the kobold, is but a capri­ cious sprite, and some day may beguile him into a mysterious passage or long forgotten chamber in the mine, whence he shall never more return. His bones will whiten in their prison, While his spirit, wandering restlessly among the subterranean corridors, will be heard on Christmas eve, hammering wearily away till the gray dawn brightens in the et^st. Or did some prosperous farmer save his crop while his neigh­ bor's corn was blighted, and raise upon his small estate more than their broader acres could be forced to yield, there was no opportunity afforded him for pride or self-congratulation. Only the witch's art could bring about such strange results, and the same sorceries that had aided "him had, doubtless, been the ruin of his friends. He was a lucky man if their" indignation went no fur­ ther than muttered phrases and averted heads. Does not Pliny tell us the story of Cuius FuriuB Cresins, whose heavy crops awoke such mingled anger and suspicion in his neighbors' hearts that he was accused in the oourts of conjuring their grain and fruit into his own scantv ground ? If a woman aspired to be neater than her gossips, or to spin more wool than they were able to display, it was only because the pixies labored for her at night; turning her wheel briskly in the moonlight, splitting the wood and drawing the water, while she drowsed idly in her bed. And every night the pixleft good Drive round tlie wheel with sound aubdued, And leave--in this they nover fail-- A silver penny in the j ail. Even to the clergy this engaging theory brought its consolations. When the Reverend Lucas Jacobson Debes, pastor of Thorshaven in 1670, found that his congregation was growing slim, he was not forced, in bitterness of spirit, to ask himself were his sermons dull, but promptly laid all the blame upon the biergentrold, the specters of the mountains, whom he angrily ac­ cused in a lengthy homily, of disturbing his flock, and even pushing their dis­ courtesy so far as to carry them off bodily before his discourse waa com­ pleted. Frontier Discipline. " The Argentine Republic employs a corps of frontier guards, largely* re­ cruited from the roving tribes of the pampas, but controlled by Spanish- American officers, who seem to enforce subordination by rather peculiar methods. Two or three representative warriors of each tribe are kept under the surveillance of a squad of trusty veterans, and at the first symptom of mutiny these hostages are cornered and watched at the muzzle of a cocked re­ volver, while the officer negotiates with the malcontents. Convicted mutineers, however, are no longer flogged, a dis­ grace which their kinsmen would avenge at all risks, but either shot outright or ordered to run for their lives, followed after a quarter of a minute by a long- range volley of musket-balls. Where Women Never Lose Their Maiden Name. While on the subject of names I must tell you that here a woman never loses her maiden name. After marriage she adds her husband's name to her own. In being spoken of she is always called by her Christian and maiden names. To a stranger it is often quite a task to find out whose wife a woman is. Never hearing the wife called by the hus­ band's name one naturally does not as­ sociate them together. The children take the names of both parents, but place the mother's name after the father's.--Cuba Correspondence Neut THE LEGISLATURE Politics ...Bep. .U. 1. Complete Official List of Members the Next Ilhnois General f" Assembly*.-;;-^ following is a complete offtafftl list ®f the members of tl e next General As­ sembly of Illinois, together with their post- office addresses and political affiliations: THE Si.NATE. Dtot Ktme. Tostoffiea. Politics I. -Kernanl A. Eekhart Chicago. Bep; 8. Chas. H. CrawforiM . Chicago Hep. 3. Goo. A. Gibbs Chicago ......Bep. 4. Thos. A. CantwolU.. Chicago Dem. C. James Monahan Chicago Rep.. <». Henry \V. Lematit. .Cuicajro Bep. 7. .lohii Humphrey Orlniid Bep. 8. Ira K. Ciirt.sst Marengo Bep. 9. Philip Knopf OIkciilo B< p. 10. Kdwa.d B. Sumner'. U x-kfoixi Bep. 11. B. "Si. Burke Chicago V. 1j. 12. James s. Cochran+. .Frei>jx>it 13. Michael F. Garrity.Chicago........ 14. H. H. F.vaiist Aurora... ..... 15. Charlen H. Bacon.. .Ix)ckport 16. H. K. Wheelert Kunkukee 17. C. 1«\ (iiofinvood....S.'cttnjore. ..... IS. George Torranceh . - l'ont:aJ 1'. John T). Cra >troe... hi xon •20. G. 1'. < r. lN.orfii Hopedale ...item. 21. John H Pierce Kewanee ......Bep. 22. A, \V. Borgnren* Galesburg Bep. •J3. Joseph l.inehart Peru ,...Bep. 24. A.J. ssrrivtert New Windsor.Gb.-Dem. 2->. E. A. Waauburti... Princeton Bep. 2b. Andrew J. Bellt Peoria Deui. 27. I. N. Pearson Macomb.. Bep. 28. l.afuy. tte Funk! Shirley. .Bep. 29. William C. Johus.. .Pecatur r .Bep. 30. M. B. Thompson. +.. Urbana. Bep. 31. George K. Bacon.... Paris Bep. 82. T. I.. McGratli Mattoon .....Bep 33. L. B. Stephenson.. .f>hell>yville........Dein. :«. John M. Darnt'lU luishville.. Dem. 85. Georye \V, Dean Burton Dem. 3G. J. W. Johnsont Pittstield ....Dem. 37. T. S. Chapman. Jerseyville Bep. 38. David Goret. Carlinville .Dem. 39. William K. Shutt.. .Springfield........Dem. 40. Eliy.ur Soutliwortht.I.itchtield....... ..Dem, 41. W. F. L. Hadley Ed ward KVille.....Bep. 42. Wm. S. FonnHut....Nashville Pern. 4;l. A. M. Strai.tou....; ..Mount Vernon.....Dem. 44.,It. D. Adainst ..Fairfield Bep. 45. Andrew .1. Keavill.. Hat liock Dem. <6. B. L. Orpant ..Ciirmi....pem, 41. Henry t-eiter Lebanon...... Dem. 18. John T. HiggUxst... Duquoin... .......Dem, •J9. John Yost Elba Bep. 50. Georgo \V. HUH MurpUysboro Pom 51. Daniel Hogan* Mound City........Bep. •lie-elected. 1 Hold-over Senators. THE HOl'SK. Dist. Name. Post >ffioe. 1. David W. ClarK.....Chicago John S. Ford Chicago James O'Connor Chicago..... 3. D. C. Chase Euqlewood.. ^ John W. Farlov Chicago Deiii W. P. Wright.".' Hv<!e Park. C. L. S. S". A. Brokoski Chicago Bep. George F. Kcton Chicago.. Bep. Tamnas J. Moran.. .Chieaao Dem. 4. Thos. C. MfteMU1 an*. Chtuago ..Bep. John Meyer Chicago .Bep. Jaiuos F. Gleeson...Chicago ..Dem, 5. KirkN. Eastman....Chicago Bep. Joseph P. Mahoney'Chicago ..Dem, Leo P. Dwver Chicago U. L. S. Charles G. Neelv E vans ton Bep. Jam< s H. Farryll.. .Chicago. %Dem. M. J. Dwyer Chicago „..t7. L. T. O. W. Herrick Oak Park Bop. 8. A. Beyuolds Jefferson Bep. Clayton E. Crafts*. .Austin ......Dem. 8. Charles A.Partridge. Waukegan. Bep. Charles E. Fulier.. Belvidere .Bep. ' G orge Wait Grant Pem. 9. Henry Decker Chicago Hep. Charlrs E.Scharlau*Chicttgo Bi>p. Charles G. D.xon.. .Chicago U. L. 10. David Hunter* Guilford Bep. James P. Wilson .. .Woosung Dem. James l.amont Bockford Pro. II. Bryan Conway Chicago... Dent. Thomas McKlligott.Chicago Dem. George liolirbnch.. .Chii a^o U. L 12. George W Pepoon.. Warren .Bep. Emanuel Stover Lanark Bep. James Carr Scales Mound Dem. 13. F. E Schoenewald. .Chicago Bep. John.). Furlong ....Chicago ...Pem. Victor KarlowBki ...Chicago U. L. 14. John Stewart* Campton Hep. Charles Curtiss Downer's Grove ...Bep. James Herrington ..Geneva Dem. 15. Diui'l McLaughllu... Braid wood Bep. Dwight C. Haven.. .New Lennox Bep. T. H. Biley Joliet. ..Dem. • 16. H. M. Koyser Momence Bep. John L. Hamilton*. .Watseka Bep. Truinau Huling Kankakee Dem. 17. E W. Faxon Milibrook Bep. P. D. Hunt De Kalb Bep. Hiram Holcoinb Sycamore Dem. 18. CharleB Bo^ardus*. Paxton Bep. O. \V. Pollard Dwight Bep. Michael Cleary* Odoll ....Dem. 19. Benj. H. Bradshaw.Compton .....Bep. John W. White. Tampico ltep. Caleb C. Johnson*. .Sterling. Dem. 90. Aaron H. Hruhaker.Benson Bep. Willmm H. Kist. r. .Henry ..Dem. Samuel Patrick* Washburn .Dem, 31. Htndriok V. tislier.Gwncuieo .'.....ltepi W. K. Cfrawfwd Eddvigton .Hej< John T. Piatt Citmbridge. . .Gb.-P< m. 22. Orrin P. Cooley* Oneida ...liip. Thomas Hauier Vermont Bep. hamuel P.Marshall*Astoria. Dem. 23. L. M. Sawyer Streator .Hep* K. 8. Brown Mend.ta Dem. J. P. Trench La Salle Dem. 24. Wm. C. Galloway...Aledo .Hep. C. It. GiitinijH*..Terre Haute.. Bep. W. C. Williams Elvaston ..Dem. 25. James H, Miller'* Toulon Bap. Sterling Pouierov...Ohio Hep. Anthony Morrasv.. .Sheffield Deni. 23. Jo:.nM. Hait..... ..Eden Bep. N. D. .Jay Elm wood Dem. James Kenny Peoria :.... .Deni. 27. Henry W. Allen Kirk wood Bep. Bichurd <f. Bredon..Macomb .-. Bep. James Firoved Kirk wood Denj, 28. Samuel B. Kinsey*.McLean Btp. Frank Y. Hamilton .Blooming'on Bep. John Eddy Bloouiiugton Dem. 29. William Grason Oakley Bep. W. H. Krotzinger Latham Bep. Hiraui L. Pierce Lincoln .Dem. 30. William F. Cnlhoun*Clinton Bep. Virgil S. Bultv* Bement Bep. Francis M. Peel Whiteheath Dem. SI. Charles A. Allen*.. .Hoopeston Bep. H. P. Blackburn DanviUe .Bep. Hobt. L. McKinlay.. Paris Dem. 82. t-amuel F. Wilson..Neoga Bep. Eugene ltico Camargo Bep. W« stford Taggart.. .Tuscola Dem. 33. Joseph P. Condo ... .Moccasin. Bep.' John J. Schneider . .Effingham Dem. Joim H. Baker* Sullivan .....Dem. 34. Janien M. Buggies. .Havana Bep! Fred WUkinson Petersburg .Dem. M. 1>. Halpin Beardstown Demi 35. Wm. H. Collins*....Quincy Bep. Albert G. Wells Quincy Dem. Ira Tyler-- Bichfield Dem. 86. A. h. Lowry Mount Sterling Bep. William B. Archer.Pittslleld Deni. John McNabb Hardin Dem. 87. Willium M. Ward.. .Greenfield. Bep. B. H. Davis Carrollten Dem. Joseph 1) Sawyer..Oxville Pem. 83. John E. Wright Mnrrayville Bep. George W. Smith.. .1 acks inville Pem. James U. Wilson.. .Car inville Pem. 39. David T. Litt er Springfield Bep. Wiley E. Jones Springtield Pem. A. L. Converse Springfield Pem. 40. Colman C. George.. '1 aylorville Bop. Bobert A Gray* Blue Mound Pem. Barrell Phillips Hillsboro Pem. 41. John Wedig Numeoki Bep. Isaac A Cox Alhambra ..Bep. J. W. Copi)inger Alton Pem. 42. M. A. Morgan Okawville v'.Bep. C. W. Seawell Greenville Pem. H. H. Heim&un Aviston Pem. 43. John J. Browif Vandalia Bep. Thomas E. Merritt.Balim ...Pem. G. V. E. l leteher.. .Vandalia... Pem. 44. Alfred Brown* Albion. ......Bep. Thomas A. Wilson.Flora. Bep. John 8. Symonds.. .Flora.. .Pem. 46. Alfred H. Jones Bobinaon ......Bep Ch&s. A. Purdunn. .Marshall.-. Pem. James Larrabee Latona... Dem. 46. E. B. Green Mount Carmel.... .Bep. George F. French..Sumner. .....Pem. Jas. B. Campbell*. .McLeansboro Pem. 47. J. B. Messick* East St. LouiB Bep. Joseph Viele Smitliton Bep. George S. Bailey--East St. Louia . K.L. 49. Everett J. Murphy .Chester .Bep. Charles B. Cole Chester Pem. Petfr Bickelhaupt*. Waterlooo Pem. 49. Simon 8. Barker*. ..Eddyv lie Bep. William G. Sloan . Hnrrisburg Bep. Jonathan F. Taylor.Elizubethtown... .Pem. 50. Charles F Nellis Cairo Bep. Reuben S. Yocum..Cairo. Pem. . William Scott Day. .Join sboro Pem. 51. W. W. Hoskiiwon. ..Benton i Bep. A. K. Vickers Vienna. Bep. Willinm B. Bundy..Marion .Pem. 78 .05 . 1 . 7 1 1 OF ILLINOIS Bepulilic:;us. Democrats Greenback-Democrat. United L.tbor Knights of Labor. 1'roiiibitionist 'Members of the present Heuse. AT Cambridge, General Washington had heard that the colored soldiers were not to be depended upon for sentries. So one night, when tht- password was "Cambridge," he wen outside th§ camp, put on an over­ coat. and approached the colored sentinel. * Who goes there.'" cried the sentinel. "A friend," replied Washington. "Friend, advance nnaimed, and give the counter­ sign, " said the colored man. Washington came up and said, "Eoxbury." 'So, sar!" was the response. "Medford," said Wash­ ington. "No, Bar!" returned the colored soliii .r. "Charlestown," snid Washington. The colored man immediately exclaimed, "I tell yon what, sar. no man go by here 'out he say 'Cambridge.'" Washington said "Cambridge," and went by, but the next day the colored gentleman was relieved of all further necessity for attending to that branch of military duty. ; < * * » . v i * » » ' * V t" A'lams........... Alexft'ide*.. Bond Boone.............. Brown Bureau.. Calhoun-......^.... Carroll ............. Cass Champaign Cnristiau. ClarK ........... Ciav Clinton ............ Cries Cook Crawforl........... Cum uerl and....... De i\all>............ I)e Witt. Douglas. »... 1'u Paiji..'.. E»Lar Ed',v aids........... Kffin.:ham ......... Favitte Ford Franklin...,, i , . . . . , l u i t o n . . . . . ; . . . Gallatin..i^»..... Greene. i Grundy ........ Hamilton ....... Hancock... Hardin......... Henderson.. Henry.. . .X...... Iroquois...,.,», Jackbon..^...; J a s p e r . . j ; . Jell'ereon. Jersey.......... Jo Daviesa.'...; Johnson......,,;.... Kane Kankakee,...... Kendall, i',. Knox.. Lake.... ......... La Salle........ Lawrence....... Lee. Livingston...... Logan Macon Macoupin Madison........ •Marion. Marshall.....*., Mason M a s s a c . " MclJonogh ..... McHenry McLean.... Menard Mercer Monroe Montgomeiy Morgan. Moultrie ; Ogle l'ecria Perry Piatt................ Pike Pope Pulaski j Putnam Bandolph Bichl::nd Khode Island Saline. Sangamon Schuyler Scott Shelby Stark." bt. Clair Stephenson Tazewell, Cnion .' Vermilion Wabash... Warren Washington......... Wavne. White Whiteside Will •Williamson \Yinneb:igo Woodford..... Totals. 3,951 MOT 1.551 1.M0; ' 8*3! 3,1.>5 403f 1,930 1,101! l^l.j; 2,1 All 1.6US! 1,<*'7 3,1A-,! 41,07:5, 1.39J! 8,0*4, 1,930! 1,92,V I.6SJ. *903 /1,268 1,127; %167 1,612| 1,44* 4,»>9 1,24'j: 1.718- %r-H 1,254 3,196; 511! 1,162; M37| S,iih s;.'«8 l,23i 1,SS4 1,174 *411 1,489! 4.2-3! *>'3M 1.4C* 4,602! 2.298] 6,180 1,467| 2,8561 3,267! 2,31! 3,500 3,4*6 6,005 1,858 1,584 1, ik>3 1,:»82 2,9 9! 2,30^ 8,477] 1.153! 1,9951 1,083! 8,116 S.2J3 1,142 3,146 5,491 1,678 1,978! 2,5/9; 1,343 1,371 558, 4,374 1.3?1 3,623j 1,803 6.^45! 1,376 V*t0| 1,54'j 1,231 4.552 8,992 8,692 1,016 8,100 1,076 2,428 1,907 8,213 1,536 3,528 5,318 8,317 8.576 1,379 138 1S5 97 138 1,465 491 104 813 17» 1S4 Ifl . «5,3061240,661 34,609; 19.5S7 •In Williamson Connty 87.» ballots were eatfc « for Oldt for Treasurer and 880 for Bicker for S«- ' t •werintendent. The following is the summary of Um | vote for State Superintendent of Pnblie . J Iustraelion: Edwards (Bep.) 37&.2M Oldt (Dem) " Braucher (United Labor)..... 34,599 Gilmer (Pro.)...'.. 19.OT Total vote Edwards' plurality ..., Total vote for President in 1884.... ..... 570,504 ..... 35,n» 078,81# Gov. OglesUy's Proclamation. Gov. Oglesby bas issued the following proclamation: "Thursday, Nov. 25, wm by common consent of the people of tha State be kept and observed as 1 hanksgiv-. ing D,iy. Let those who nave be«n cavored with success, with the sum- humiliation as ; thos- who may have suffered de eat, in the affairs of this life, rejoice in thankfulness of heart for the mercies exUn led and tlio charity bestowed upou us by the indulgant grace and favor of Almighty Cod." A Railroad Yarn. Supt. Jndson of the Chicago and Iowa Eojid tells of a section l>oss who several years ago sent in a report which made a by­ word for the bo.vs about th«n general office that is in use to-day. Section bosses ank provided with blanks, on which they a» required to report all cases of animals killed by trains. The blanks have space* for telling where, when, and bow the ant* nml is killed, and what exposition is macla of the carcass, whether it is buried or sold. One d;iy a cow was killed out on the Ko- chelle section, and a section bo6S who had been recently promoted went out to maka the report. He told in the proper spacac what train killed the animal and under what conditions it was done. Then he cam* to the line: "Disposition n "Weil," said he,scratching his head, "tTI be danged if I'm sure about that, but be> ing's she was a cow I think I can guess ail it." So he tilled out the line, which, when it leached the general office, lead: "Disposition, kind and gentle." ttrief Mention. --A boarding-house keeper m Chicago^ when her bill was disputed bj a wealthy Illinois stock-raiser, locked ap the wife, children and servants of her patron, and stood guard at the door until it was bnrsi open by a constable with a search warrant. --Attorneys Tilden and Bnckner ap* peared before Jud j;e Prendergist at Chi* cago and pleaded for au old colored woman* "Aunt Fannie" Austin, alias Jones, who was in the debtors' department of the Jail on a $50 debt, and secured her release ou a writ of habeas corpus. The old woman is said to be poor and depeudent, and was unable to fight her case properly. Her fat face was wrinkled by a pleased grin as sho walked down Clark street from the jail. --A party of hnuters found the body of a man nnder a tree in the woods on the Gil- ham place, near Edwardsville crossing, Madison Connty. The remains were those of a man about forty, and were quite well dressed. On the body were found a small sum of money, a silver watch, gold chain, aud some jewelry. The face had been re­ cently shaven, leaving a mustache and chin whiskers. The features *;cre diseolrred. and the supposition was that the remains had lain where found two or three days. There was nothing to indicate foul play. The other evening at one of the Chicago theaters u young man was engaged in tha unhappy task of wrestling with his over­ coat, high hat and opera-gla«&es, hoping bo* fore the curtain rose to entertain the charm­ ing young lady who was with him--all in the narrow space assigned him- alien while giving his overcoat change of position on his lap a black lla^k fell oa the floor with a Mull thud." He was a yonng of much presence of mind. "There goes my cough medicine,'* he instantly although he had not even the shadow of a cold. "Your 'cough medicine,* WiUf* da exclaimed. "Yon must Like it as a ventive," she mildly added. Then th*Mp»i tain rose and he was-saved a very ipiMBtil' » ;>>» I I t ; , . H j £ * OS::.' '-V .iiSls •* , V •*