• • •«/* iWJ" "" '.-> W*- DXK UETTia nSBET BUTI, j alone by the lire, I just As I came from the < ran you would Admire-- ?.*•• tool thousand in Fruioe; J soodei) out of all rcuon, r isdone up in a cue; Btr, the "belle of tho MUDQ" l watting &n boar ou you. engagements I've broken; it Hie midst of a act; »•proposal, half-spoken, rsita--on the stairs--for me yoi, _ i*ll be rich,--when he growl S _ 54 tfien be ailores me indead, And you, sir, are turning your nose up Three thousand miles off, as you r do I like my position?" AAA what do I think of New Yorkt" I*'* ' 1 bow in my higher ambition, With wh'au do 1 waltz, flirt, or talk ? • 3 "Jtattcnt it nioe to have riches, 'ft. Aui diamonds and silks, and oil that^ "* •Aad aren't it a change from the ditchM ; And tunneU of Poverty Flat?" ' « Well, yes,--if you saw us out driving Koch day in the park, four-in-hand,--^ If you saw poor dear mamma contrivUK To look supernaturally grand^-- B you saw pupa's picture, as tnJtea n By Brady, and tinted at that,-- lfou'd never susjw'ct lie sold buOOB And flour at Poverty Flat. And yet, just at this moment, vhen 8ltttl| • In the glare of the grand chandelier,-- I11 the bustle and glitter befitting The "finest soiree of the year," , '3 In the mists of a gazedc cMmbery, l"'r * ,4' And the hum of the smallest of talkjg>:- ij (Somehow, Joe, I tlioughtof the "ferry,Vir And the dance that we had on "The NK {"... Of Harrison's barn, with its muster Of flags festooned over tho wall; ©f the candles that shed their soft lustBS And tallow on head-dress and ahawlj j Of the the steps we took to one fiddle; ( Of the dress of my queer vis a-vis ; | And bow I once went down the middle | With the man that shot Sandy Mc " Of the moon that was quietly sleepiug >W- "'*| On the hill, when the time came to go; Of tho few baby peaks that -were peeping From under their bedclothes of snow; . - Of that ride,--that to me was the rarest;, Of--the something that you said at the gate,-- Ab, Joe, then I wasn't an heiress To "the best-paying lead in the State." Well, well, it's all past; yet its funny To think, as I stood in tho glare fashion and beauty and money. That I should be thinking, right there, Of some one who breasted high water. And swam tho North Fork, and all that, lust to dance with ole Forinbee's daughter. The Lily of Poverty Flat. Bnt goodness! what nonsense I'm writing! (Mamma says my taste is itill low), Instead of my triumphs reciting, I'm spooning 011 Joseph--heigh-ho 1 And I'm to lie "finished™ by travel-- Whatever'B the meaning of that-- Oh! why did papa strike pay gravel In drifting on Poverty Flat? Good night--here's the end of my paper; Good night--if the longitude please-- For maybe, while wasting my taj>er, l'Ottr sun's climbing over the trees. * But know, if you haven't got riches. Anil are poor, dearest Joe, and all thafcT That ray heart's somewhere there in the ditches. And you've struck it--on Poverty Flat. •' HE REFUSED THE CHANCE. BT MBS. H. E. BABBETT. A solitary figure, with few lines of come liness or grace, John Hollaway sat upon the meadow gate, looking off into the dis tance. He was whistling softly, and yet he teemed to be in a deep reverie, for his creat, tender eyes had a far-away express ion in their brown depths as he gazed out Over the sunlit meadows where the blood- ted clover and the golden buttercups •wayed under the soft, caressing breeze. Suddenly an imperious voice broke the si lence. "Mr. Hollaway, please let me take down the bars. I'm in a Shortest way." harry, and came the Mr I' I Ki §&•• The young man started; he had not heard her approach, and there beside him stood the very object of his thoughts. Ah. clover blooms and buttercups, paled Were your charms now! A little, graceful figure in the daintiest of cambric dresses, and underneath the wide hat a sweet, girlish fape with velvety, peach-tinted cheeks, and eyes as bine as freshly gath ered violets. Such was Lily Lawrence, the prettiest girl--so the popular verdict ran--in all the country round. A flush tose to John's son-browned face as he quickly rose and began to take down the Cars. . "Out for a walk, Miss Lily?" "Yes," very briefly. "So you are fond of quiet Biro lis? I am, too." Lily drew herself up, and looked at the presumptuous speaker. "Really, Mr. Hollaway, I don't see what -It is to you " Then she stopped. She did not mean to be rude, but truly, she thought to herself, it was high time she should show this young man that his openly expressed ad miration was exceedingly distasteful to hefr. It had been going on for some lime, aijd evervone, even Lily herself, had come to see that the sun rose and set for John Hol laway where she was. "He must be intensely stupid not to know how utterly indifferent 1 am to him," she thought. But John was not stupid. He understood the unfinished sentence, and as he drew back without another word to let her pass, Lily saw that he did, and a shame-faced, compunctious look stole into her eyefe. For, from the richest to the poorest, every one acknowledged John Holla way's noble sterling character.{ \f Lily walked slowlf along the road, half "determined to turn back and apologize for her rudeness, until a turn brought her face to face with someone whose handsome eyes met her own with such a glad welcome that all other thoughts were for the time driven completely away. It was Bichard Blake, the most admired and courted young man in the village. "Ah, good aflernoou, Miss Lawrence! I was hoping 1 would meet •you." And the wavy black lockB Were bared to the breeze as Richard courteously lifted his hat and walked on beside her. What a contrast to John Hollaway! And the contrast was great in many other ways ; than Lily thought. But the girl was but yonng to read character, and that llicharfl Blako was very handsome and elegant none • could deny--a lover of whom anyone might be justly proud. When Lily's home was reached, and with another graceful bow Richard had left her, she did not go directly into the hotlse, but lingered a while among the flowers that filled their little garden. Her thoughts were very busy. She knew that she had behaved very unkindly to her old friend, and her memory went back to the first time •he had met him. It was at a picnic, and •he had fallen and sprained her ankle. She remembered how the great fellow, so much stronger than his mates, had persisted in t, carrying her all the long distance back to her hoine^ Since then he had shown in a hundred ways what she was to him, and knowing his noble nature, perhaps her heart i > weald have gone out to him before th^s if Btehard Blake had not come back from college. But he had, and Lily fancied his gajf, debonair manners, and hie entertain ing conversation, and like mam- another Jonng fiirl. had begun to tak#for truq, eart-<leep love that liking which we all have for things pleasant to the sight. And so she shook off her reproachful feelings, and went into the house. "Why, mother, dear, what is the matter? Crying, and I out enjoying myself? Tell me, what iB it, dear? Let me share your trouble. * Mrs. Lawrence lifted a face," aniftWg through her tears. "Yes, crying, Lily, darling, bnt not from grief. Sit down here beside me, and let me •how you what a load has been lifted from mind this morning. Lily, I did not on, but some time ago Mr. Burton, the lawyer, came to me and informed me that the holder of the mortgage on our- home was in need of money, and intended to foreclose, unless the mortgage was paid in full when he should demand it. Now, child, you know what a trouble has been ireighing upon me, for I knew that it VOiud be impossible for me to raise the MB necessary, and that we must l^ave the duu old home that we had loved so welL And now, this very morning, Mr. Burton came and told me that a kind friend, hear ing of the in'ended foreclosure, has paid the amount in full." "Who is it that has helped you, mother?" "That's the Btrangest part ot it, Lily. Mr. Buriou said he-had strictly promised not to tell me the name of my benefactor, and as to who it can lie I have no idea." But though she did not say so, Lily hnd; and when later, in her usual impulsive way, she told John Hollaway how sorry she was that she had been so rude to him, and then asked him frankly whethor he was not the kind friend who had come, so oppor tunely to her mother's relief, his manner confirmed her suspicions. It is said that "gratitude is neighbor to love," and whether that be true or not, it is certain that from that lime the manly young farmer was often in Lily's thoughts, while Richard Blake was just as steadily losing ground. But John, of course, did not know it. He was not one to wear his heart upon his sleeve, and at length, after a hard struggle, had decided to abandon his hope less suit and leave the field to that rival who evidently was the favored one. Lily noticed the difference; but, woman-like, she did not appear to care, and so the months went much the same, until at length the crisis came. The village in which our heroine lived waB just on the shores of a little bay, and many were the pleasure parties that enjoyed a trip over its limpid wateifc. One afternoon, Bichard Blake, obtaining Mrs. Lawrence's consent, invited Lily to take a sail. When they reached the beach, who should be waiting in readiness to manage the boat but John Hollaway. 'Halle, Hollaway, are you turning info boatman?" exclaimed Blake, in astonish ment. Lifting his cap (o Lily, John answered, "Not exactly; but Joe came to me in gre^t distress, saying he did not feel well enough to go out, but had promised not to disap point you, and knowing I could manage a boat, he asked me to take his place. Joe has done me many a good turn, and so I could not refuse him," he added, wrong fully interpreting the little flush that had risen in Lily's face as she listened; "and he said, too, that it was your Bister who was to be your companion. Else 1 should not have come; I would not for the world be a mar-sport." < The bitterness in his tone touched a like chord in Lily's heart. For some little time back she had been slowly but surely learn ing • lessen--the difference between real worth and mere glitter; and now her heart sank as she saw, or thought she saw, how completely her conduct had driven all af fection toward* her from John's mind, and that she had foolishly thrown away herowfi happiness. "Well, Hollaway, I'm sure I'm much obliged. It's very kind of you," was Blake's reply. And the two young men soon had the little craft in readiness for its fair freight Blake had seen John's liking for Lily, but his vanity had not been alarmed; he knew by experience the power of his dark eyes, and Lily Lawrence was like any otheir young lady if she were ten times prettiex;. So he reasoned. j They floated lightly over the blue water, anchoring after a while nnder a bluff, and dropping their lines to fish. Lily chatted gaily in her own fascinating wry, and neve|r had she seemed more lovely in Bichard Blake's eyes, while poor John, who had thought of late that he had driven her image from his mind, felt the old charm creeping over him again stronger than ever before: but he hid his pain manfully and kept his part in the lively conversation. Time crept on, and just as they decided on returning, to their dismay the heavens suddenly clouded over, and a peal of thunder brought them to their feet ii alarm. SquallB were not common upon the bay, but one was evidently now upon them, and John saw the great danger. A moment, and they were dashing at a mad rate over the waves, while overhead the awful darkness gathered more ominously all the while, and every now and then vivid flashes of flame seemed to envelope them on all sides. Suddenly there was a blind ing glare, then a terrific crash, and half the mast dropped over the bows, while the sails were dragged into the seething water. For an instant John was almost stunned; then his first thought was Lily. Where was she? A second more, and he caught the gleam of yellow curls in the cruel waves among the tattered sails; the ropes had twisted about her light' figure and dragged her over the bow. He sprang to Blake's side. . "If she is to be yours, it is yon who ought to save her! Quick, or it will be too late! "Your chance will be gone!" But Blake still cowered tremblingly where he was, unheeding the peril of the one he professed to love. Another instant John was struggling among the sails; a few seconds of awful suspense while the waves were tugging savagely at him, then, weak, almost faint ing, he crept back into the boat with Lily's insensible form clasped close to his brave heart. He had saved her! . Then, still in imminent danger, tbev re mained clinging to the dismantled boat, until, as suddenly as it has fallen the squall lifted, and a welcome hail from the shore proclaimed that help was near at hand. Lily came to herself at last, to find that John was holding her fast, with her face close to his own. In an instant the memory of what had passed came back to her. She did not draw away, but raised her lustrous eyes to his as if to read his inmost thoughts; the cold cheek pressed itself closer against his own, while her arms wound themselves Boftly around his neck. "John--dear John!" was all she said: And John knew that with the greatest peril the greatest blessing of his life had come to him; while Richard Blake, looking on with pale, scowling face, comprehended clearly that John's words had been pro phetic when he had said, "Your chance will begone.* EABL UWAI Y DATS O SAN FRANCISCO. my i tell Among the Miners-High frlces--The Auction RoomAiid the Gambling Hell. M. de Varigny, a French writer, writing of the early growth of business in San Francisco, says: "Tire auction room sprang into existence in a night. It was a supply in response to an ur gent demand, and prospered forthwith. The 'auction room* of San Francisco had hut a vague resemblance to the usual places of that kind. It was at once a sort of banking house, com mission depot, shop, and bar. The auctioneer was usually enthroned upon a hogshead, from which proud position he looked down upon the public. There amid jokes, puns, and more or less spicy pleasantries, he drew the crowd into his shop, shouting out the sale at auction of the most heterogenious ob jects ; lots of land, miners' tools, ship cargoes to deliver, horses to take back from squatter, clothes, wood, and nails, rice and salt pork, boxes and barrels-- all were piled round about him. He received and repeated offers, was prompt to catch a wink of the eye, talked like a rattle-box, exciting pur chasers to new ardor. The sales took place from 10 o'clock to noon. Then buyers were served with a free lunch, invariably composed of sea biscuits and Dutch cheese, smoked salmon or her rings. The drinks were the only things to be paid for. Merchandise purchased had to be taken away the same day." Of the miner's life and of prices in those early days, he says: "Life was rude, and expenses were enormous. Grouped in camps in order that they might the better resist Indian forays, the miners lived in tents, gen erally, two or three under the same canvas, partners dividing the labor, each in his turn undertaking the „ pre paration of the meals. A stove, a kettle, a gridiron, and a coffee-pot were the kitchen utensils; dry leaves or straw served for the bed, and the only luxuries were carbines and revolvers carefully taken care of and always ready for use. In the center of the camp was a huge tent, that of the storekeeper. His stock in trade was composed of sacks of flour, barrels of salt pork, molasses, tea, and coffee, candles and soap; then shovels, picks, crowbars, pewter plates, powder, and shot, red flannel skirts, jack boots, coarse cloth ing, and finally and especially, gin and whisky. On the counter were scales for weighing the gold dust. There was no such thing as coined gold and silver. All transactions were on the cash basis. The miner brought forth from his chamois-skin bag, in pinches or in pellets, the price of his purchase in gold dust. Gold circulated at $12 or $14 per ounce. The storekeeper sold it for $16 in San Francisco. Some few miners, known for their sobriety and drobity, enjoyed in these stores a little credit which allowed them to live through evil days without dying of hunger; but these were rare excep tions. From one day to another,' according to the ease or difficulty of transporta tion, prices varied in the most astound ing manner. As much as $<20 was paid for a bottle of gin, worth 16 cents; $100 was sometimes the price of a barrel of flour; and other things were in like pro portion. From' Monday morning to Saturday noon, the miners toiled like slaves; Saturday they emptied the sluice, a kind of wooden drawer in which the washed gold dust accumu lated. They weighed and divide! the product of the week, cleaned the tent, washed up the soiled linen, and, in the evening, met at the store. It was too often the case that an orgy then l>egan, and was kept up all night. Fantastic tales, quarrels, and hand-to-hand en counters were frequent. The sober ones departed, leaving the others to fight it out with knives and revolvers. Sunday was devoted to recovering from the excitement of the previous even ing, and in writing home." "In 1849 gaming ruled the city. It was the only amusement of a floating population which had no places for meeting, lived in tents, and had no idea of any intelligent manner of employing its leisure. From morning to night, and from night until morning the players played, losing and winning enormous sums. Miners from the in terior risked all the money they had brought with them to buy provisions. Appointments were made at the gamb ling houses, and it was in them that business men discussed and concluded large aftairs; sales and purchases of land were often made there in the midst of smoke, the hum of voices, and the curses of unlucky players. No one who has not seen those California hells can have any idea of them." He'll Keep Away. "Maria," said the mistress of a Cass- avenue residence as she entered the kitchen in a hurry, "there's a man going out of the alley with a basket on his arm." "Yes'm." "I think he has stolen something from the basement." ' "Oh, no, ma'am, I was watching him all the time." "But he had a basket of victuals." "Yes'm, but he's a poor man, and X sympathized with him." "Haven't I told you not to feed tramps?" "Yes'm, but he pleaded so hard." "Oh, they can all tell a pitiful story. Don't you never give this man any thing again. He looks to me like state-prison bird." "Very well, ma'am, 111 tell -him to keep away." "Then you know him?" "Yes, he's my husband, and he's such a sweet talker, and he's so good- hear te4 !"--Detroit Free Press. Looking Into Polities. "A party leader," said Rollo, looking up from the paper, "is he the man who leads the party ?" "Something like that," "said Hollo's Uncle George; "he is the man who lies awake nights trying to guess which way the party wants to go, and when he finds out he scoots across lots and tries to get their first; he leads the party un less the party should happen to change its mind and go the other way; he leads the same as the leader in the stage team leads; he goes ahead, but he goes the way the man on the box with the reins and whip tells him to go." Rollo said he thought he was begin ning to see into politics, as through a glass darkly, and Uncle George said that was the way politicians usually looked into 'em.--Brooklyn Eagle. another During the ordinary way» and part by means ol peculiar gestures, until the Esquimar has drept to within alxrat thirty yards ol his outwitted companion. The animal's eyes, then being clearly visible, are no sooner turned from the hunter than he presents his rifle and fires. The seal, if shot through the head, is killed in stantly, but if hit in any other place defeats his enemy by disappearing through the ice.--Toronto Mail. School Committee Women. There is an increasing sentiment fn favor of putting women in our school boards. They certainly have as great, if not a greater, interest in the educa tion of children than the sterner sex, and with experience, thej probably would serve the public interests in volved with efficiency. A report reaches us from a country neighborhood "down East," that has recently elected a female school board, and our correspondent sends us the following list of questions which they have drawn up to propound to any young man applying for tlie position of teacher in the district school. • L Have you any prejudice against boarding around ? II. Would you object to splitting kindling wood if you could do it even- ings? III. Would you be willing to excuse the big girls half a day Monday to help wash? * < IV. Do you approve pf Union under* garments for children? V. How many eggs would you see IE a batch of pumpkin pies ? VI. What is the best month to bile soap? VII. Would you lay skirts in pleats, or cut them goring? VIII. Do you favor oleomargarine ox lard for shortening? • IX. Would you set out cabbage plants before or after a rain? X. When would you set hens? XI. Do you favor the basque or polonaise? XIL Would yon speak a piece at tho meeting of our Dorcas Sewing Society ? XIII. Could you help in the choir? XIV. Would you set the sponge over night for yeast bread, or do you advo cate salt rising ? XV. Do you favor w.omen voting, and what would be a fair remuneration for each vote ? XVI. Is biled dinner indigestible ? XVII. Is coffee or eggshell best fOi settling coffees? XVIII. Do you believe in the future punishment of disobedient scholars ? XIX. Or would you give it to 'em as they go along? XX. Do you favor double heelis and toes in knitting? XXL How much for a drawing of tea to each person ? XXII. Are you willing to subscribe to the missionary cause ? XXIII. Are you temperate, and if so, hown"uch? One can well imagine the state of mind into which such an array of ques tions would plunge a young man who wanted to-teach.--Texas Siftings. Hunting Seals. Seal-hunting on the ice is standing source of amusement. the entire winter these animals keep holes open through the shore ice, but on account of the depth of the snow they are not seen until the mild weather exposes their hiding-places. The Esquimau, however, has a way of find ing them out before this. He harnesses dog that has been trained for the work and leads him out to the snow- covered field, where the two walk back ward and forward, making a zigzag course over the ice. Probably before long the dog catches the scent, and then takes his master straight to the seal's house. Under the hard, thick crust of the snow there is quite a large room, which at the time of discovery may or may not be occupied; but if oc cupied will very soon be vacant on the arrival of the hunters. In either case the Esquimau ascertains by means of his spear the exact position of the hole, and then, placing a little pinnacle of snow over it, awaits the arrival of the victim. The native becomes aware of the seal's return by hearing a peculiar blowing noise, and as soon as this com mences he thrusts his spear down ver tically through the snow into the hole and secures his prey. Sometimes, when the snow is very deep, the dogs are not able to find the hole, and then it is that the poor Esquimau has hard times. In the spring, snow disappear ing from the ice, the seals are exposed to view. Then the hunter takes an other way of getting at them. First of all he notices the direction of the wind, and then, keeping his enemy in it, walks to within 400 or 500 yards of himi From there he begins to crouch down and to advance only when the seal i4 not looking. The wary animal is id the habit of throwing up his head quickly every few seconds and looking about,* and so, when within about 200 yards, the native lies down flat upon the ice. It is only now that real sport commences. Seal takes Esquimau, who is able to talk seal perfectly, to be one of his brothers, and, indeed, there is a great deal of resemblance between the species, for the genus homo is dressed in seal-skin, and, living largely upon its flesh, is similarly odorous. The two lie on the ice for perhaps half an hour, keeping up a sort of broken con versation, part of which is conducted in The Great Francis Bacon. Francis Bacon was born in 1361. He was thus Shakespeare's senior by three years. His father was Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, an eminent scholar,! patron of art and literature. The mothers of great men have often been remarked upon, and Bacon's was emi nently worthy of her distinguished son; an estimable lady, pious, shrewd, affec tionate, and, in the best sense of that age, accomplished; learned among women, a capable authoress, yet moth erly among mothers. Bacon was the son of old age; precocious, but no1: epliemerally so, for his genius went on expanding through all his life. His im agination, differing from that of many other men, deepened, hightened, widened with his years. He had ample access in his fathor's home to books. A student of Cambridge at the age of 12, he was at 16 wiser than his teachers. In 1576 he entered Gray's Inn on his legal career. Next year lie went toParis as one of the suite of Sir Amias Paulet the English Ambassador. He traveled on the continent with the French court, and become familiar with French, Ital ian, and Spanish. On his return to England he bore a dispatch to th« Queen from the Ambassador, in whicli he is referred to in the most flattering terms. In his 24th year he entered Parliament, and soon exercised a re: markable ascendancy. The author oj many beneficial measures, he was at alj times the chosen representative of the Commons in their conflicts with the peers and the Crown. His wisdom, patriotism, and eloquence were conspic uous. Careful of the interests of tho people, he was at the same time loyal in his allegiance to the Crown. His powers of persuasion were uniformly employed in furthering and reconciling the welfare of all concerned. Jonson bears tribute to his eloquence "There happened," he says, "in my time one noble speaker, who was full ol gravity in his speaking. His language, where he could spare or pass by a jest, was nobly censorious, fto man ever spoke more neatly, more weightily 01 suffered less emptiness, less idleness, in what he uttered. No member of his speech but consisted of his own graces. His hearers could not cough or look aside from him without loss. He com manded when he spoke, and had his judges angry or pleased at his devotion No man had their affections more in his power. The fear of every man who heard him was that he should make an end." oh good lis form Mixed Transactions. First Colored Evangelist (to co worker)--How yer gettin' 'long wid yer nieetin' down at de bayou ? Second Colored Evangelist--Sorter slow, but we'll git dar arter while. How is it wid yerse'f ? "Sorter rtishin'. Baked in ten sin ners las' night an' got er fine prospeck fuTer dozen ter night." "De Lawd mus' be wid yer.* "Teers like it,, sho. Knows old Sandy Smif» 1 reckons?" "Whut, de gambler an' bad sinner man?" "Yas." '<» * "Co'se I knows him. Won all mer money las' summer." "Wall, I*se kotch him." "Go 'way." "Kotch him, I tells yer." "How yer do it?" "Stacked de kayards on him." "Wall, how did dat git him ligion?" "W'y, it didn't, o' cou'se." "Thought yer'd kotch him 'mung de sinners." "Oh, no, I meant ter tell yer dat I'd got him in er nuder way. W'y sah, yer conwersation wnz so fine dat I dun got two transactions mixed. Oh, yas, wuz mighty successful wid de po' sin ners. Da shouted monstrous."--Ar- kansaw Traveler. IT is not difficult to content one's self with solitude, when it is known that society may be had if wished for. a. , Nleknames. Nicknames are the essential fellowship, but the abuse of this of familiarity is as evil as its proper use is pleasing. The prevailing custom of dubbing overybody upon a two days' acquaintance Tom, Sam, Fannie, Net tie, or whatever diminutive intimate friends may be privileged to extract from the baptismal name, is certainly |demoralizing. The way in which this ^frivolous practice destroys the dignity of intercourse and, so to speak, rubs the nap and gloss from the social fab ric, is apparent to an observer. This custom is perhaps seen at its worst at the watering places and sum mer hotels, and undoubted it is greatly influenced by the laxity of costume which often obtains at these resorts. Flannels, a bad hat, and tennis shoes seem to encourage familiarities which would be unallowable in the presence of more formal garb. There are not wanting persons of sufficient self- respect to repel such freedom, even when there attire is as careless as that of a backwoodsman, but they are gen erally regarded aB cold and stiff and Boston-y, the last adjective being the most forcible word for the description of snobbishness which exists in the vocabulary of the hosts of people most devoted to , nicknames.' It is to be noted, however, that there are certain persons whom nothing short of an actual request^ and that a pretty vig orous one, will deter from making free with the Christian names of their ac quaintances, and even the frigidly Bos ton snub is powerless before their per sistent vulgarity. This particular phase of familiarity might in itself be overlooked were it not that it is the outgrowth of a feeling which is leveling all social proprieties and vulgarizing all social intercourse. There is a too prevalent feeling that the maintaining of anything like for mality is inconsistent with the common level upon which it is theoretically sup posed that every person stands. Any proper self-respect is set down as snob bishness, and people of whom it is right to expect that they will lend their in fluence in supporting the reserves which are dignified and proper, not in frequently allow themselves to be car ried along by the tide, and yield to a custom which they sincerely despise. In the end they are pretty likely to be fairly enough punished for their weak ness and cowardice by the discomforts of the very familiarity they have en couraged. It is one thing to believe in human brotherhood, and to live up to its principles,, but it is quite another to yield to the ill-lived familiarity of the vulgar fellow to whom you are intro duced as Mr. Smith, who drops the title the first hour, gets to John by the end of the second, and has you dubbed "Jack, my boy," by the end of the third. Even universal brotherhood cries out for conventional restraints as protec tion in his case.--Boston Courier. Old Maids and Mot hers-in-Law. A sharp-tuned paragraph in a paper I have just laid down says something mean about old maids. Why guy tho old maids? Every pert paragraph er flashes his wit at the defenseless maiden well up in years. It isn't right, and he ought to be ashamed of himself. Dog gone a man, anyhow, who will poke fun at a woman. Ah, funny man, you little know the sorrow sometimes con cealed beneath the prim exterior of the old maid. You cannot ken the blighted hopes, the withered love, the bright dreams unrealized, the apples of ashes that fell to her lot, and all that made her an old maid. Go in, funny boy; poke your cheap wit at the dear old girl; say alleged humorous things about her and make her feel bad in her lone liness. Some day you may need the old maid, and O! you mirth-provoking son-of-a-gun, may she be on hand when you want her, with every drop of Chris tian charity squeezed out of her heart, and gall and bitterness in its place to make it pleasant for you--O! so pleas ant that you will wish you were dead and buried 1,700 feet underground be fore you ever poked fun at the old maid. And there is the mother-in-law, Mister Funny Man--you poke fun at her, too. Some day, good sir, you will be married, and it's sheckels to dried apples that your wife will have a mother who knows you like a book, and who, to use the vernacular of the street "has it in for you." I hope she will give you a regular red-paint razzle-dazzle me boy, and that she will make you walk the floor and groan and curse the day you were born. You know that the mother-in-law is not all she is painted. Why, what would we do without the mother-iri-law? (Not me-- what are you smiling at?) The dear, good, kindly old soul who overlooks the faults >of her daughter's husband, and who smooths out the household wrinkles, and keeps things straight, and puts things to rights when they don't go straight, and takes care of her babies and sees that they are started in life properly, and often comes in handy when there is a bill to pay, and no body with money to pay it--what would some fellows do Avithout a mother-in- law? Dear me! I sometimes wish that I had one. But Harrisburg Telegraph. Gently Closing Doors. Once I called with a friend upon a sick person whose nerves had become so painfully acute through suffering that noise tortured her. A screen door opened from the room into the hall,and as callers or members of the family passed in or out, a quick, sharp slam of this door followed close on their egress or ingress. The torture of the noise sent a spasm of pain across the sick woman's face, bnt she bore it uncom plainingly, thinking it more endurable than flies and mosquitoes, and no one had noticed or thought to lessen this annoyance until my friend's kind heart and quick eye prompted and planned a remedy. She called for tacks and cot ton batting, and making firm little cushions of the batting, she tacked them up and down the casing where the door would strike^ and the sharp slam bang was instantly softened as the' door swung to. The grateful language and glance of the sick woman made me wish that I, too, had eyes that could see ways to be helpful toward others.^-- Philadelphia Call. Two Connndrnms* Eli--What is the difference between Pike's Peak and a New York monument fund? Joe--Don't see it Why is it? Eli--Don't you see? Pike's Peak is a big thing. Joe--Yes, and now yon tell me the reason they are alike." Eli--That sticks me. Why are they ? Joe--That's simple, Neither of them grow.--Detroit Free Press. No MATTER how calm a man may be, he always becomes nervous when, after changing his money from one pocket to another, he drives his hand into the pocket which is empty. ggigi People Who Lire in Trees. We read wonderful stories of the im mense trees one sees in California, but they sink into insignificance beside the Baobab tree, which I found in many parts of Western Africa, principally jutt south of the Desert of Sahara. It is not distinguished for its extraordi nary height, which rarely reaches over 100 feet, but it is the most imposing and magnificent of African trees; many, it is said, are over 100 feet in circum ference, rising like a dwarf tower from twenty to thirty feet, and then throw ing out branches like a miniature forest to a distance of 100 feet, the extremi ties of the branches bending toward. the around. The leaves are large, abundant, and of a dark green color, divided into five radiating lanceolate leaflets. The flowers are large and white, hanging to peduncles of a yard in length, which form a striking con trast to the leaves. The fruit is a soft, pulpy, dry substance, about the size of a citron, inclosed in a long, green pod; the pulp between the seeds tastes like cream of tartar, and this pulp, as well as the pressed juice from the leaves, is used by the native Africans for flavor ing their food. The juice is greatly relished aa a beverage, and is consid ered a remedy in putrid fevers and many other diseases. The Baobab is said to attain a much greater age than any other tree, thou sands of years being hazarded as the term of life of some specimens. It has extraordinary vitality; the bark, which is regularly stripped off to be made into ropes, nets for fishing, trap ping, and native clothing, speedily grows again. No external injury, not even fire, can destroy it from without; nor can it be hurt from within, as speci mens have been found in full splendor with the inside of the trunk hollowed out into a chamber which could hold a score of people. One-half of the trunk may be cut or burned away--even tho tree may be cut down, and while lying on the ground, so long as there is the slightest connection with the roots it will grow and yield fruit. It dies from a very peculiar disease--a softening of its woody structure, and it falls by its own weight, a mass of ruins. The na tive villages are generally built around one of these immense trees; and under its far-spreading branches, which form an ttgreeable shelter from the sun, is the kotla, or place of assemblage.where all the public business of the tribe is transacted. The circuit described by the extremities 0/ the lowermost range of branches is fenced around, so that none but those privileged * to attend these meetings can intrude, In thinly- populated districts of southern and/Cen- tral Africa, where lions, leopards, end hyenas abound, the natives live in huts like gigantic beehives, firmly fixed among the branches of the tree. On the approach of night they ascend to their huts by means of rude ladders, while the lions roar about their camp- fires until the approach of day drives them to their lairs. As many as thirty families have been found to occupy a singletree. In many instances, native? who till the ground at any great distance from their tribe build these huts for nightly accommo dation. In traveling through the country one frequently sees these trees alive with baboons and other kinds of the monkey-tribe, busy in collecting the fruit and indulging in ceaseless gambols and chatter; for this reason it is com monly called the monkey bread-tree. When the tree is not occupied as a habitation, the hollow trunk is used by the natives as a sepulcher for executed criminals--the law of the people deny ing them the right of burial--inside of which the bodies dry up, and to a great extent resemble mummies. To a European this tree is a marvel: coming across one inhabited by monkeys, it is exti-emely dangerous to shoot any unless one is with a party, for if any are wounded, the whole colony take up the battle, and more than once I found that a retreat in short order was necessary. --American Agriculturist. The Eucalyptus. Immense quantities of the seed of the Australian gum tree or eucalyptus have been imported from the land of its origin into this State, and one can scarcely visit a town or find a ranch that cannot show larger or smaller numbers of the trees. But we do not seem to have yet discovered that they are very valuable for their timber. The Australians themselves are only just awakening to this fact. They will grow and thrive on almost any soil, and the astonishing rapidity -with which they develop from shrubs into trees makes them still more valuable, because forests can be more quickly developed from their seed than probably that of any other tree. Next to the eucalyptus is what is called in Australia the turpen tine tree, and from all the Atfcs^ralian papers have to say concerniiig^tham they would make a most useful tree for California. The Pictorial Austxjrlw^i sent one of its artists into Ne^Sonth Wales and he writes that he "was astonished at the wealth of timber that will become marketable when the railway is open. At Gillaby forests of gum trees or ecualpti may be seen towering as high as 200 feet, and of as much as fifteen feet diameter, without a branch for fifty or sixty feet. The turpentine trees are equally as remarkable in ap pearance. The latter trees have not yet been sufficiently appreciated, though several years ago "the late Capt. Shoo- bert announced the faot that it is the only indigenous timber New South Wales, has possessing the merit of being impervious to the attacks of the teredo navalis. This he proved conclusively, and latterly almost every new wharf constructed in and about Sydney stands upon turpentine piles." This would make a valuable tree for California, because timber that as piling will defy the teredo is a neces sity for a State with such a long coast line as this. An amount of timber is required every year for wharves, tho ones in use continually giving way be cause of the ravages of the teredo. If the seed of the Australian turpentine should be imported to this State, and the trees thrive, it would not be long before wo could have forests, and in this way help to save our other trees.-- San Francisco Call. A New Venture. Minister (in geocery store)--I am pleased to see, Mr. Sugarsand, that motto on the wall, "Honesty is the best policy." It will pay you from a busi ness point of view, to say nothing of any thing else. > Mr. Sugarsand (hopefully)--I hope so, sir, but I haven't tried it long enough yet to make a fair test of it.-- New York Sun. Doing WelL "Has prohibition proved a failure in f$his town?" shouted a temperance ora tor. "No, sir," came a voice from near the door. "Two new drug stores were opened last week."--New York Sun. m- MA AND poone. THE "color line" i. well dr«wn in rainbow. A VEBT navrow aperture--the of a whip. A BAD habit to get into--a coat is not paid for. IF women had the solving of thE labor question it would be the laW fof all husbtends to keep the coal-scuttlE filled. . , ' SERVANTS gaVe themselves &e nam! pf "help," but they rarely break theil backs in txyingtoliva up Buffalo Courier. |;-t "WAS EABLY matt a savage?" asks | magazine writer. r,. That .depends op whether the; early man had cold coffe# for breakfast. \ A FASHION journal says there- is knack in putting on gloves. Gome think of it, that's so. You have to, your hand in, as it were. MANY a man who thinks he is going to set the world afire finds to his sol* row thftt somebody has turned the hoajli on him.--New Haven News. SOME men never know how big th are until they have got nominated, how small thdy are until the votes i_ counted up.--Fall River Advertiser; p THE vital question, "What is |I sausage ?" is being discussed before j§ Nebraska court. It is believed that t" jury will disagree. --Norristown 2Zi aid. \ BOSTON woman, by way of expert ment, recently tied a pedometer to liegs chin and discovered that she talked thirty-three miles between breakfast and lunch.--Life. "THIS is the Jewish New Year," ob*v served Mr. Skaggs on that anniversary "Why, when was the Jewish Chris" mas?" asked Mrs. Skaggs. "I didn know it had passed." A--I THOUGHT you were a vegetarian, and Jnow I see you eating mutton. B-- Well, I am only an indirect vegetariaH I eat the meat of such animals only e|| live on vegetable' f6od. -- Fliegendt Blaetter. _ THEY were talking about second mar riages when a young woman was moved to enunciate this aphorism: "She who marries a second husband does not de serve to have the good fortune to losNi the first." "You can't expect a man of my t to join this strike," said a ca ^ beater. "Why not?" asked the walfe* ing delegate. "Because we are only carpet knights, and we ean raise more dust by working than loafing."--Phila delphia Herald. MEXICAN gentleman--Yes, we have some very exciting sports in Mexico. We had a bull fight a short time ago in which six men were killed. YalS Btudent--And do you call that excitingr You should see one of our college foot ball matches!--Boston Courier. MRS. MALONEY'S boy of 4 years was beating the cat with a rolling pin. Tears of pride came into her eyes qs she murmured: "Poor darlin'; you make me remimber yer father that's dead an' gone, as he was when he wall jist appointed to the foorce."--Lowell Citizen. AN UNSATISFACTORY INNOVATION. 'As the bee from the rosea The sweet nectar sips, Bo lovers have always Bought kisses from lips. But down in New Jersey, They have a niw thing; They there kiss each other By means of a string. Ah! the sweetneei) of oourtablp' : Is over, we know, When the kisses of lovers By telephone go. --Boston Courier. A MAN who stood gazing at an un* dertaker's office was asked by a pedes trian if he were looking for any p ticular number ou the street. "O no; I am right at home on this stree he replied. "I just left that unde#> taker's, and I was making a vow nevi to enter the place again." "Didn't treat you well?" "Not by a long shot I left him a $65 order, and he didn't even ask me to call again. "--Jistfott Free Prews. . ... f ' EPITAPHS. - Ott a Lawyer. * * His clients hero will drop a tear For hiin wljo lies below, For, though -no longer on the oarth, He's bound to lie, you know. On a Printer. He filled up the galley of life's fitful drrini. The proof h^is been taken and read In mem'ry of which at his feet stands a stick, An imposing stone stands at his head; He is now enjoying the smiles of the bleat, His proof been "O K'd" by tho King; He has surely a seat among those at the right, He 1b now drawing "dust" op his "string. --Detroit Free Prest. The Fashion of Wearing the Hair. "So many women complain of head ache, I wonder if the way they wear their hair has not something to do with- it," said a lady one day in my hearing: My attention had often been called tb the fact in individual cases, and I hod advised loosening their hair as a mean* of relief, and with good results. Now, as I reflected over the matter, I felt ai. if something ought to be said about it» That the hair was designed as a pro tection to the brain no one doubts; but few stop to think how it Bhould be worn in order to fulfill its original ill* tention. Animals which have soft hai* or fur possess, in most cases, the po war of erecting it as an additional means of protection from cold, making it ap«' parent that looseness or openness it better for that purpose than having it closely or compactly laid. As it iB • well-known fact that what protectft from cold will protect from heat als«j it would also follow that hair loosely worn would be the best protection ilk either case. It would" matter littS whether long or short for that purpose. To leave it loose, that the air maf reach the head freely and easily, ana that the exhalations which are con tinually passing off from the surfadg nhouid be removed in that manner, would be the most healthful way, at least. To bind it tight in "bands of coils prevents this, and the hair soopi becomes foul and unwholesome; th| impurities passing off through the skii| are reabsorbed, the pores becomii'" plogged, and the head aches. Anothor fcause of headache is the unequal weight caused by the piling up of braids and coils on fone part of the head, and drawing it tight by strings and hair pins, so that it may stay in place. Still more reprehensible is the practice o# wearing switches and cnsliions to iw*' crease the apparent amount. They r# " tain the heat to an unnatural degre% and cause diseases of the scalp, which can be cured in no other Way than by the discontinuance of the cause. The hair should always be worn in such fi. way that tho base of the brain is pro tected. To have it arranged in a W8*~; to leave that part of the head uncover exposes the wearer to a certain risk taking cold if a chilly wind comes froipfc. behind. It is also unwise to cut th&; hair so short in warm weather as tij> leave the skin of the head exposed t&' view, as is the custom with many meiL A good covering of hair loosely worlp- and a well-ventilated hat make a vei excellent protection from sunBtroke.- Herald of Health. v» " V;1: