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bonn«t sit h tt* Miff to time, WMlUft. loniter than h«r d Pf •* PMMIaMr ' TTNE HAW FAKK. '(Hwm thit kmprtu payer, .Tint,*' son,. . lie agea dim M fan. "The itftflfe an' <b« matter'n-Iaw, goat an' the an' the hornet'* nest, An' DM finger that's broke by a ball on the I Have appeared again dressed in their best. "iflwte wont the minister down 011 a pin, Jot' the deacon has trod on a tack," ' A|^ttie rheumatreman With a horrified grin t: Lblgyi01ere»*o(i hik baok. "The little black ant with the hot-tempered tail Is worrying a man hi the grove, An' the telegraph boy with the spetd of mall la deliverin' the ligbtuin' of Jove. "A cat on the woodshed Is humpin' her back At a bootjack wMofe some on« had 'fired,' An' that nabob!sh nau with gold in a sack Is «tly a plumtur retired. * "*bfc «oot from' the ttdv»-ptpo baa ttllnded a, man. An' the barrow has broken a shin; IhMog runs away with an old ovater-can. An' the editor'a mournin' fur tin. "They are mOldy an' old, an' not very high, But they lighten a newspaper's gloom, An' are very much better'n a political lie, Or the news of "th« 'Hog Wallow boom.' * --Arteaiimw Traveler. ' 1 BACHELOR'S TRIALS. . *T STANLEY VKENET. llazleton was a go©4-f©olting bachelor of forty. He had lived in board­ ing houses for more than fifteen years, and had been very comfortable the greater put of the time. He enjoyed the freedom of going oat and coming in witliont being questioned or scolded if he happened to be a little late at night, and he knew that he was spared a vast amount of responsibility, care, and expense by having no one but himself to look ont for, but when the time for spring e-cleaning came he invariably wished r^he had ft'borne of his own in which he P? lay do wn a law against the awful ng- Tkm of tnrning everything upside and inside oat once or twice every year. One chilly evening in early April Mr. : Hazleton came home, if a boarding-house can be called a home, and fotind the carpet in hie room torn up, the floor deluged wi^h soap-suds, and all the chairs tied np m sheets. His slippers were in the bureai- ' drawer on top of his best shirts, his ink­ stand and writing materials were tncked away under the bed, his dressing-gown gone, nobody knew where, while many of his books and bric-a-brac were m - . rf;, &.V< covered with spatters of calcimine. "I'll be hanged if I'll stand it," ejacu­ lated Mr. Hazleton, as he stood before the mirror, smoothing his hair with his lingers instead of a brush, which no amount Of search had brought to light. "This sort of thing is enough to give a man rheumatism and neuralgia for the rest of his natural life. It won't do any good to remonstrate with the landlady. She knows I don't like it. I've left •even or eight places on this very ac­ count^ but it's the same thing everywhere. . I believe (desperately'! that I'll get married and make a stipulation before hand that there shall be no house-cleaning in my es­ tablishment." AVhen he had arrived at this conclusion ; Mr. Hazelton's ruffled feelings were some­ what soothed and he began a m^nt^l in­ ventory of the nicest marriageable ladies that he knew. Foremost among the number was a pretty little widow with brown eyes ana pink cheeks, whom had met at the Shake­ speare Club. She lived five blocks away in a cozy cottage that was nearly covered with wood­ bine and trumpet honeysuckle. There were always house-plants and a canary bird in the little bow-window fronting the street, and Mr. Hazelton often admired the home-like look that the place presented. 1 He knew that the mistress must possess the incomparable art of making her sur­ roundings tasteful and cheery. "I'll propose to Mrs. Merrijman," ex­ claimed Mr. Hazleton to himself, "and I wonder why I never thought of it before." He went down to supper and drank weak tea and ate over-done biscuit and soggy cake with an unperturbable air, and ictualiy smiled when his landlady Apologetically said: "We are house-clean­ ing,you know, Mr. Hazleton. and I'm sure you'll make allowances if everything isn't just right." •Oh, yes," he thinks. «T11 make allow­ ances because I'm going to break loose from boarding-house torments forever. I've been a fool not to have done so.before. He returned to his room to properly array himself for his suddenly projected call upon the pretty widow, but* some how he couldn't find a neck-tie that suited hi™, and remembered that he was not quick at turning a sentence, and that it would be decidedly awkward to go down on his knees, so he concluded to write the im portant question. He had not written a love letter since he was a sentimental stripling, when his heart's young affections were cruelly crushed bv a little flirt with blue eyes and yellow hair, who afterwards married a missionary with five children. His first move was to crawl undittttte bed to secure his ink and paper. - . » For a man inclined to portliness this jras a trying teat, and one which tended to make him all the more disgusted with house- cleaning. Assuming as comfortable a po sition as possible upon a trunk--the only available seat in the room--Mr. Hazleton indited the following epistle: MTDEAB Mas. iiEBRiMAs:--You will doubt­ less be surprised to receive a proposal of mar­ riage fropi one whom you may consider only a chance acquaintance. I am not eloquent, and flowery words of sentiment are not exactly in my line, but I believe I could make you happy if you are willing to accept my assurances of sincere devotion and brighten my life with your sweet companionship. I can Bcarcely expect you to love me now. but in time you mav learn to do so. Please reply immediately it y'ou are willing to be mine, and I shall bs a prcfud and ' Ot^rwiso do 1104 answer at all. Your silence will be equivalent to a refusal. Yours very truly, •, C - . HOBERT HAZLETON. F. In case you honor me with a favorable answer would you mind entering into ar. agree­ ment never to cloan house after we are married? I have a horror of house-cleaning and have suf »»a much annoyance from the custom. "I. fWaey _that is sufficiently compre­ hensive and not a very bad effort at love making, considering how long I have been • oat of practice and the abominable posture I am obliged to write in," soliloquized Mr. Hazleton, as he folded and addressed his letter. At first he thought he would send it by a boy who was employed to do odd chores about the house, but fearing that the urchin might not be sufficiently trust­ worthy for so important an errand, Mr. aton decided to await (he motions of • oam s.mau service. ! FS£HjBr1ay-c°ated carrier brought Issflre of love to the widow's cottage Slwrihappeoed to be out on a shopping ex pedl#oi>. It was also her little secant '&#ernoon out, so the postman's rinz w^unan.wered and the letter tucked tender Ifes, Merriman had an intimate friend c"*e over to*4 afternoon for a little zr* ?aB e away disappointed at finding the house deserted, when she re­ membered that it was a custom of Mrs. Monrtman to leave the front door key be- but* *• window blind when both went out at the same time, «o that the one who came home first cotild enter the house. •I believe I'll go in and wait until Clara £*£•£* M„. Bto. -i koow Ro shetook the key from its hiding place and iopened the door. As she did so flbe noticed Mr. Hezleton's letter and •looped to piek it up, wondering in a feminine way who Clara's correspondent go* in quest of a new Meitimai* was gone much longer than her dearest fr|end anticipated. Being an impatient little woman she soon grow tired of waiting. Placing, the letter upon the widow's open portfolio where her eye would be certain to light upon it the first thing, Mr*, I?hike locked the door and replaced the .k«y where she had found it. She met Mrs. Memman's girl a short distance from the house and stopped to tell her of the liberty die had "taken in entering the house, but did not think it necessary to say anything about the letter. It was quite dusk when the widow came in, half an hour afterwards, and the little maid who was lighting the hall lamp said, "Mrs. Blake has been here this afternoon, mamma. She said tell you to find a new place to hide the door-key if you don't want her to come in while you are out." Mrs. Mcrriman laughed and said, "that's just like LiseKie. I am sorry'not to have seen her. No donbl she got tired of wait­ ing." Then, quite unconscious of the billet-doux awaiting her glance, she tum­ bled all the papers together in her portfolio and put it in a drawer of the book-case. She had made up her mind to clean house the next day, and thought she would clear away some of the things that were lying about so as to be ready for, Mrs. Flanigan, whom she had engaged to come in the morning and take up the carpet. Mr. Hazleton was very much chagrined and more disappointed than he cared to ad­ mit when two days had passed and he was forced to believe that Mn. Merriman had rejected his suit. The third morning he thought he would walk around past the widow's house. "She might be sick or something," he thought. The sight that mot his eyes put a quietus upon his last spark of hope. An old colored man was beating carpets in the yard, the porch was filled with furni­ ture, and an unmistakable air of the abhorred business of house-cleaning per­ vaded the place. Through the cnrtainless windows of the parlor he could see the widow flying about with her head tied up in a bine veil, busily wielding a feather cluster. "She answers ine by making a parade of the very thing I most detest. These wo­ men are all alike," sighed Mr. Hazleton. The pretty widow, however, became more and more precious to his sight in propor­ tion as she becamo inaccessible, and he grew moody and dyspeptic. Sometimes lie thought of taking a vaca­ tion from business and diverting his mind by travel, but he could not bring himself quite to the point of relinquishing the possibility of occasionally seeing the ob­ ject of his mature affections. Mrs. Blake's children had been having the measles, and Mrs. Merriman had been house-cleaning, so the two friends had not seen each other for three weeks. " The children were better, Mrs. Merriman was "settled" into her usual groove of living, and the .friends resumed their former intimacy. One day Mrs. Blake said, "By the way, I suppose you found the letter I left on your portfolio the day I went into your house and waited vainly for you to come." "What letter?" asked Mrs. Merriman in surprise. Why, the letter I found under your door. The superscription was in a masculine hand and looked rather suspicious. I hope you are not trying to deceive yoar dearest friend, Clara?" I'm sure I don't know what you mean," said the widow, "but I'll go home and look for my portfolio. I have not seen it since I cleaned house, and haven't an idea where it is." Careful search brought to light the ill- fated love letter. When she first read it Mrs. Merriman said: "Ridiculous! I am sure he can be nothing to me," but the more she thought about Mr. Hazleton the better opinion she had of him, and she be­ gan to wish that her dearest friend had not been quite so much at home in her house as to come meddling with her letters. Of course it was too late to answer it now. Mr. Hazleton had written that he would consider her silence equivalent to a refusal and it would be too awkward to explain. It seemed as if Mr. Hazleton was des­ tined to be a constant victim to the mania for cleaning. In coming down the stairs leading from his office to the street be stepped upon small piece of 6oap left by the woman who had been scrubbing the stairs, and was precipitated to the sidewalk in a manner calculated to provoke strong language from the most exemplary of men. Mr. Hazleton gathered up his injured form, expecting to find himself crippled for life, and met the eyes of the pretty widow. There was just the faintest suspicion of a smile about the corners of her month, but she said in the kindest, most sympathetic voice, "Oh, I hope you are not badly hurt, Mr. Hazleton. "I guess there are no bones broken," answered Mr. Hazletoil, as he tried to get his hat into shape, and brush the dirt from bis coat. "There ought to be a law to pro­ tect a man during the cleaning season." "I am sorry you are so misanthropic," laughed the widow. "House-cleaning is a necessary evil, and there is more than one way of doing it." "I didn't know there was any way but to tear up everything and have the whole house steam with soapsuds and calcimine," said Mr. Hazleton. Mrs.tMerriman was a modest little wo­ man, and it waB very distastfnl for her to make any advances to' a gentleman, but under the circumstances she felt that she ought to say something encouraging, for it really did seem a pity to lose such a de­ sirable husband, so with a charming blush and coquettishly averted eyes, she said: , "I don't believe you would find my way very objectionable. I make it a rule* never to have all the rooms in disorder at a time, and try, if possible, to have the meals more appetizing than usual to keep up ones spirits, you see." Mr. Hazleton's face brightened and he forgot his many bruises as he bashfully inquired: "Do you think you could get along with a glum old bachelor like me, Mrs. Merri­ man?" f I> am willing to try," was the demure reply. Why didn't you say so before," asked Mr. Hazelton, reproachfully. "I have been in the slough of despondency for nearly a month because you did not answer my letter." Then the widow explained how the letter had been mislaid. I ought to have known better than to propose in house-cleaning time," said Mr. Hazelton. "tton't bo ungrateful," saucily retorted Mrs. Merriman. "If it had not been for that piece of soap I don't know as I should ever have found courage to accept vou." So sometimes it chances that a "man stumbles into happiness. Mr. Hazleton and, the widow are t<f be married next 'month, and he has promised not to be cross in house-cleaning time, even if he is sometimes asked to tack down a carpet and assist in moving a stovef < i •; I ̂ Victim of Intemperandfc 'Y j Here comes a man whom I Wikh Vou to observe. Behold him. His face is pallid and his eyes are lusterless. His lips are set in pain. His steps are slow and the dull throblxing of a heavy head­ ache beats at his temples. Ilis davs are heavy and liis nights are sleepless, and life is a weariness to him. He is a mere wreck of his early manhood. TTw friends avoid him. When he goes home his children hunt for the dark corners, and his poor wife wishes she was dead' What has wrought all this ruin and misery ? Rum ? The demon Rum ? Oh, not exactly; pie and hot bread and fifteen minute dinners did it. The poor man has the dyspepsia, that's all, But that's enough.--Burdette, in Brooklyn Eagle. ~ pi ̂ 1 Kind Wsrd* , Kind words produce tneir own image in men's souls, and a beautiful image it is. They sooth and quiet and comfort the hearer. They shame him oat of his sour, morose, unkind feeling. BEMBflSCESCKS OF PIJBfJC WHS. BI BEST: PKBJUEY POORS. The winter before the inauguration of Gen. Harrison as President, Oen.i and Mrs. Gainos delivered •> joint lec­ ture in several of the Atlantic cities. The General, who spoke first, explained: his system of national defense, which he illustrated by means of maps and; diagrams. The plan consisted of two distinct propositions: First, to ooni nect the Central and Western Stages with the seaboard and frontiers by a chain of railroads, which he proposed should be constructed by the army of the United States. These would af­ ford means for the rapid transportation, in time of war, of men, munitions, mil­ itary stores, and all the material re­ quired for attack and defense, both by land and water; and would also serve, in times of peace, for the promotion of internal commerce, by the interchange of the products of different sections of the Union. If its former commercial prosperity shall return to our cduntryj we may reasonably anticipate that tnuf portion of the General's system will be supplied by individual enterprise, and the means at the disposal of the differ­ ent States. His second proposition was to con­ struct, in each of our important sea­ ports, a number of floating batteries, to be moved by steam towboats, and thus turned and shifted at will to meet •n attacking foe at all points. By bat­ teries of sufficient eapacitty, and yet not so large as to be unmanageable, he estimated that two broadsides might be fired in the space of three minutes, or 1,800 shots discharged in six minutes! He urged with great earnestness that it was the art of wisdom and sound pol­ icy to endeavor to keep pace with the advanced spirit of the age; and that it was necessary to our national security that we should avail ourselves of the improved agencies of steam navigation as a means of national resistence and defense. Gen. Gaines spoke for about an hour and a quarter, and was listened tj with marked attention. Mrs. Gaines then ascended the plat­ form and commenced her address^ reading from a paper she held in her hand. She began with a vindication of her position from the charges of what might seem to be a departure from the appropriate sphere of her sex, whose chief duties are properly considered to lie in the domestic circle. She pleaded as her excuse the higher obligation of obedience to her "liege lord," in whose presence she stood, and declared with confidence that if a jury of her own sex were to be selected from the audience to try her for the offence, their unanimous verdict would be "ac­ quitted." Mrs. Guinea then proceeded to descant upon her chosen theme, and drew from the pages of the world's history a vivid picture of "the horrors of war." The dreadful destruction of human life at different periods,' in bat­ tles and sieges, marches and retreats, was exhibited in a concise and rapid sketch, the terrors of the carnage, the scene presented after a battle, the heaps of the slain, the dying and the wounded. "Rider and horse, "friend, foe in one red burial blent," and all the accidental horrors of war were depicted with all the warmth of a glowing and cultivated fancy, with all the intensity of a wo­ man's feeling. "We can weep," she indignantly exclaimed, "over a tale of imaginary sorrow, concocted by some hungry, starving novel writer, and yet we have no sigh to breathe, no tear to shed, at the recital of heart-rending calamities and miseries which we know to be real." Before Daniel Webster purchased his estate at Marshfield he used to go there every summer with a small party of friends, and "rough it" in a rude shanty, erected for the accommodation of duck shooters and fishermen. There, before the door of the hut", might have been seen, about the hour of sunset, a stout- looking, dark-visaged, hard-featured man, with a shaggy roundabout upon his back, and a coarse tarpaulin hat, that looked rather the worse for wear, upon his head, squatted upon a stone, and with a handful of sand scouring out an old chowder pot, which the last user : had been so careless as to leave a little less cleanly than it should have been. Shortly after the same hand was seen to be sprinkling pepper and salt upon the fruits of that day's expedition, as they simmered in the pot over the crackling fire. Ho was evidently the prominent man of the party; and after the savory viands had been despatched and the clotliless board, with the keen appetite and smacking relish that hunt­ ers only can appreciate, his were the apt fingers that wiped the platters fastest ; and as they sat around the comfortable blaze of the snapping brushwood, from his prolific lips flowed the countless stories at which they stared hardest and laughed loudest. Not about tariffs tvnd banks and such matters of State, which in those times of political excitement men were most apt to talk about, had the storry-teller prattled; his anecdotes were of matters of less importance, perhaps, but in­ finitely more entertaining to the hard- fisted, fun-loving fishermen, and farm­ ers who were his companions. And when "nature's sweet restorer" called them to their bunks, he was the first, if not the loudest, to snore; and at day­ light he was the foremost to make ready the morning repast, by scraping in the sand, outside the hut,' the knives which the evening past had tarnished. His name was daniel Webster; his sta­ tion, Secretary of the United States of America; his home, wherever he chanced to be, in a fisherman's hut or a King's palace, among his cattle or at the Capitol. The Washington correspondents were greatly troubled, during the war, by the censorship, and they studied dili­ gently how to circumvent it. Just be­ fore the capture of Fort Fisher, and when the news of its fall would natur­ ally have had an effect upon the stock market, one of the correspondents went to New York in order to be on hand when the opportunity came .to buy or to sell. A friend at Washington was to telegraph him when Fort Fisher fell that "The child is very Bick," and, to make doubly sure; the dispalch was to be signed "Mary." This neat little ar­ rangement completely deceived the Censor when Fort Fisher was captured, and the dispatch was promptly sent The censor boarded at Willard's Ho­ tel. There, also, boarded the wife and three children of the enterprising jour­ nalist. The censor was personally ac­ quainted with the journalist and his family, and on the day that he had {>assed the dispatch, he approached the ady and asked, "How is the child?" "What child? all my children are well," replied she. "All well?" said the cen­ sor. "Perfectly welt" "Excuse me, madam," asked the censor, "but is your name Mary?" "No, Bir, it is not, and why do you ask?" The censor gave a low whistle, and replied: "Oh, for no reason in particular." '!Butyou must have a reason for such a question." D»T«n to the wall, and suspecting all sotts of naughty things, with the de­ ceived woman before him, what could he do? He.had to do something;, and ho madevft Cietn breast o|' it. He told the Imjf" that somebociy, nalned had that day telegraphed to her husband in New York that the child was very sick, and supposing, of course, the telegram could only have been sent tfey heiV ho ventured to ask as. to the .COTlditioh of the young invalid.' ' ; Here Was aprettv kettle of fish. Who was and where "vVas Had the wicked journalist another wife and spjne children, hidden away? Evi­ dently so. The wicked joornalist, meanwhile, head and ears in stock op­ erations at New York, received another dispatch. It was not this'time a cipher, but, on the contrary, exceedingly plain, and from his better-half. He returned to Washington by the next train, and by the help of the genuine "Mary" suc­ ceeded, after some difficulty, in c°P* vincing tlie partner of all his woes And joys that he had not been faithless to his marriage vows. •,» On the Mountain Heights. - The imperial moon rose in all its luculent beauty, revealing the keener clustered scintillations of the chimeras of the azure sky. The dew glistened on the fasciculated grass and the hete- rochromous blossoms that grew on the banks of the murmurous mountain stream, meandering down the undulat­ ing slopes in subtlest musicry. The air is no insipid fluid; it seems a subtle distillation of all reminiscent languors of the hesternal day. The polychro­ matic vestiges of autumn were visible; the sibilant wind sobbed itself ^o sub­ tlest stillness, and the silence made strange polyacoustics of every sound, when a young girl, an uncertain, mys­ tical apparition, stole stealthily out from the sombrousness of the pines and said softly: "You thar, Bill?" Round about her vaporous form the mountains lifted themselves to empyr­ eal heights, the glamorous moonshine fell athwart the bowlderous path, the scintillations of the glistening dew irra­ diated each leaf and twig. An isolated star, blazing in the vast solitudes of the sky, burst suddenly into a dazzling constellation before her luminous eyes, as she whispered: "You thar, Bill?" How vast the solitude! How im­ pregnable the mountain walls! -How they stand revealed in definite, dark­ ling distinctness in the mellowness of the moonlight! The wind rose in riotous revelry. It bore far down the shimmering slopes the young girl's tremulous words: " v "You thar, Bill?" "I ^ A nocturnal rider comes in sight. $1 is Bill. He comes noiseless, swift, dark, like some black shadow, some noisome exhalation of the night. But it is Bill. Onward he rides in alternating gloom and brightness. With fine intui­ tive prescience he discerns the prox­ imity of the young girl ere her mat<* rialized form is revealed amid t!w shadows of the hemlocks. "Oh, Bill!" "That yon, Bets?" '/•< There is a suggestion of covert con- tumeliousness in his voice as he pro­ pounds the question to the shrinking, sensitive girt "Air it you for ferae, Beta? What fer do " A filminess cloud darkens the golden moon, dense but evanescent shadows fall, and serried mountain summits sur­ render themselves to oblivion. . j, • ; "I allowed you'd come, Bets'; I al­ lowed >" The moon rides forth again; the golden glamor glistens on all the hills. "You knowd I'd come; didn't you, Bill?" "Didn't know for true, Bets; -women folks is onsartain." , , » , "Oh, Bill!" "They air, Bets; I tell ye*-^w ' The sibilant wind was wildly astir; the moon The story will be finished some day when there is no moon, and when the "sibilant winds" are not blowing.-- Zenas Dane, in Puck. The After-Diniier Nap. There is much difference of opinion concerning the desirability of an after- dinner nap. Those who advocate it cite the example of animals, but these gorge themselves with food whenever opportunity offers, and are heavy and drowsy in consequence. A short rest is, however, different from lethargic sleep, and often appears to do good. Brain-work should certainly be for­ bidden after dinner; the interval be­ tween it and bedtime should be devoted to recreation and amusement. In the case of elderly people a short nap jifter a late dinner often aids in digestion, but as a general rule it is better for such persons to make their principal meal at 2 p. m. The digestive powers of most elderly people are at a low ebb in the evening. When sleeplessness is troublesome relief should be sought for in the discovery and removal of the cause whenever possible. The condition is often due to indigestion, and when this is the case the ordinary remedies for inducing sleep are worse than useless. The nervous relations between the brain and the stomach are so intimate that disorder of the one organ is almost certain to affect the other. Excitement, worry,and anxiety, which have their seat in the brain, in­ terfere with the functions of the stom­ ach, and in like manner anything that unduly taxes the power of or irritates the stomach disorders the circulation and nutrition of the brain. The sleep­ lessness complained of by gouty per­ sons is due to the poisonous effect of the morbid material upon the nervous system. Excessive smoking, ;too much alcohol, tea, and coffee, often resorted to by overworked persons, are frequent causes of sleeplessness. In all these CMCB the cause is removable, while the effect may be counteracted by appro­ priate treatment.* ; Nothing is more mischievous, however, than to continue the habits, and to have recourse to drugs to combat the effects. A due amount of exercise tends to induce normal sleep, and sueh exercise need npt be of a violent character. A walk of two or three miles daily is sufficient, and is perhaps as much as a busy man can find time for. A ride on horse­ back, the Palmerstonian cure for gout, is probably the b%st form of exercise for those whose minds are constantly at work. It has been well said that a man must come out of himself when in the saddle; he is forced to attend to his horse and to notice the objects he meets. Walking may be a merely au­ tomatic process and afford little if any relief to the mind, and carriage exercise may be practically valueless if the mind is not diverted from what had pre* viously occupied ii.---Fortnightly Re­ view. . . -y . GAIN little knowledge every day; one fact in a day. How Bmall a thing is one fact-one! Ten years .pass by. Three thousand six hundred and fifty facts are not a small thing. . The jrecent 'iBliijr'of the Haraurd College »nthoritle«. in striking Greek front' She list of studies required lor Che degree of A. B., marks an area in the history of college education in this country. The long straggle, which has ̂ been carried on at times with much bit­ terness between the classical and mod- rn party, has been distinctly advanced one stage toward a final settlement. The adherents of the classical course have steadily claimed for it a marked superiority over others, and >.ave uni­ formly resisted any attempt to change or supplant it. The friends of the new studies. have as vigorously contended that it is perfectly possible to construct a curriculum which, while omitting some of the specific subjects before in­ cluded and substituting others for them, should still as fully deserve the name liberal as the old course. The struggle has assumed different forms at different times, At one period it was simply an attempt on the part of those who thought modern subjects worthy of recognition besides the an­ tiquities te secure for them some place in tho college curriculum. This de­ mand, modest as it was, was resisted with the same obstinacy as that which has characterized the opposition to later and far more sweeping demands. It was a great day for American educa­ tion when modern subjects, such as the natural and physical science, history, English and other modern languages, and social science, were finally admit­ ted to a place in the curriculum of the colleges. It was insisted, however, that space should be found for them, not by cutting the time given to Greek and Latin, but simply by dfmanding more in these subjects for admission, and thus giving to them as much time as was given before and lengthening the college coarse correspondingly, so that a college boy is now much older than he was half a century ago. Wlien fur­ ther demands were made with irresisti­ ble force, they were finally met bya relactant permission to establish so- called modern or Latin-scientific, or scientific courses, parallel with the old, but carrying with them a separate de­ gree which did not recognize the candi­ date as a liberally educated man, what­ ever else he might be. It was thus that the field lay, when Dr. Eliot began fif­ teen years ago his career as President of Harvard College. An earnest agita­ tion was shortly begun to make Greek elective in the course for the degree of A. B. It was maintained that the fa­ cilities for study, and methods of teach­ ing, etc., in the modern studies had been so far perfected that they could put something else in the place of Greek and still fairly claim for the man who had completed the course the proud title of bachelor of liberal arts. --Popular Science Monthly. Looking Up Testimony. "Well, what kind of a breakfast did you have?" inquired a shabby looking individual, taking a seat in front of the hotel, and addressing a commercial traveler. "Worst lay out I've struck on my whole route. Horrible spread to dish up before a hungry man." *The steaks would have half-soled a pair of kid boots ?" "Y ou bet. Why, • the coffee was so transparent I could see samples of the cook's hair curled up in the bottom of the cup." "And you couldn't tell the difference between the butter and sweet oil?" "No; and the bread was the worst case of sour mash I ever saw in my life." "And the baked potatoes -were just warmed through, and as solid as dor- nic?" * "Yes, and they tried to palm off three different dishes of yesterday's cold soup for a new species of hash."" "And the roast looked like a piece of charcoal?" "Bet your life; and the batter-cakes were nothing less than raw dough." "And tho waiters were saucy and in­ different?" "Yes. One picked up a chair and offered to hit me with it if I called for any more iced tea. I'd like to see the landlord of this ranch. I'd just like to see him as a curiosity. He must be the ornyiest cuss in fourteen states." "Well, I've been thinking some of re­ juvenating this establishment for quite awhile, and, being the landlord, I'm taking a quiet stroll in and out among the guests getting their views. I always like to strike a live, radical kicker like yourself, because then I get in all the important testimony for the prosecu­ tion, and know just where to begin with my reconstruction. Just stop here on your way back and you'll find different arrangements."--Texas Sifting9. 1 The Cowardice of Animals. Not long since the writer saw Mr. Thompson, a dealer in live animals, open a box containing an anaconda, take the reptile by the throat, and calmly examine its mouth, opened though it was in rage, to look for can­ cerous tumors. Then from adjoining shelves he took python after python, each about ten feet long, and examined them in like manner. Only last week at the place of another dealer--Reiche --a big, powerful Syrian bear, a type known for its ferocity, was subdued without the firing of a shot. The bear broke through iron bars half an inch thick, and, standing up with his back against a cage of monkeys, thrust his terrible paw threateningly toward three keepers gathered about him. He didn't have a chance to use them, how­ ever, for he was belabored with clubs until glad to get back again into his cage. On a pedestal ndar the gate of the Cincinnati zoological gardens there re­ cently stood the stuffed figure of a donkey which, when alive, stood the attack of a lion and beat him off. The lion, it seems, had broken out of his cage and escaped to a wood near by. On a grassy hillock adjoining, a donkey lay stretched in placid slumber--a slumber that was rudely disturbed by the lion, who, in a few bounds was upon him. When the donkey felt the great mass of flesh descend upon him as if from the clouds, he was stunned and indignant, but not frightened, perl aps because he had never read any of the wonderful stories about the lion. He quickly recovered from the blow, a'id, rising, shot out both hind feet at the same time and caught the lion squarely in the forehead. Badly hurt, the Iron skulked off and later the donkey died of the wound he received at the onset. --Scientific American. MORAL courage is more -worth hav.<ng than physical; not only because it is a higher virtue, but because the demand for it is more constant. Physical cour­ age is a virtue which is almost always put away in the lumber room. Moral courage is wanted day by day.-- Charles Buxton. ACCOBDING to the Memphis Ava­ lanche: "Every well-regulated efty should have an equestrian statue." wrmis? Secrefef ^ Girl*, if your sUn fa dark, be satis­ fied to be m the eattgo*y t>f the nut- brown maidens, if foar x^ason than that "the leopard canikot change his spots." Let the sun kits the dusky cheek and add to it the ruddy glow feat belongs to the dark skin, and which the rouge-pot cannot supply. Of course, you can't change your features. But you needn't trouble yourself much on that scorftt Some person has said that if "our Mary" could put some of her beauty of feature into real every-day prettinesa she would be loved where she is now admired. The towering-nosed maiden among the proud daughters of the Nile was the beauty of Solomon's day, as was the woman with no nose at all in the time of Tamerlane. In the "land of the free" there is no standard of beauty on the nose question. The American nose is a type all to itself. But at all events your nose is a foregone conclusion, and all the sleeping in clothespins to pinch down the too prominent nostrils, or stroking with the lead-pencil to subdue the obnoxious bump, is so much labor thrown away. But when it comes to the mouth the would-be beauty has a more promising subject to deal with. Al­ though the shape of the feature cannot be altered, if tlie lips be kept fresh and the teeth ^ in perfect condition, very much is gamed. If the spot where love seals its vows be of an 6xaggeiated size, don't be constantly on the grin, as that keeps the muscles'on tlie stretch. Cultivate a classic repose of feature. Keep the mouth shut when asleep for more reasons than one. (Don't snore.) Never bite the lips to make them red, or for any other reason. Bathe them occasionally in water, with a little dis­ solved alum or borax, and apply glycerine and tincture of benzoine. This will keep the lips fresh-looking. The only harmless way too keep them red is by contrast with the teeth, which should be milk-white. A good tooth-beautifier is powdered sulphur, whioh is also an excellent tooth-preserver. This may be used daily. For occasional use, say once a week, the following is a good recipe: Pumice-stone, one ounce; bicarbonate of soda, one-half ounce; powdered talc, one-half once. Fresh-looking lips, clean, white teeth and a breath like "sweet frankincense, aloe and myrrh," will make up for many a deficiency in feature. If the ear be big and obtrusive, a loose arrangement of the. hair w a few curled locks brushed carelessly back will help the objectionable organ won­ derfully. Never comb the hair tight back from an ugly ear. As for the eyes, better leave them alone. Trimmed lashes often refuse to grow again. Dark eyebrows and lashes are a great promoter of beauty, and if yours happen to be lighter than your hair, especially if that is red, I think you might just touch them lightly with a sponge dipped in black walnut bark boiled in water with a little alum, or apply simple walnut juice. The eye­ brow may be given a slight arch and the fine line BO much sought by simply pinching the hairs together between the fingers several times a day. But it is through the complexion that you have the greatest scope for beauti­ fying. If every pore in your skin is stuffed full of "lily white" you must ex­ pect those dreadful pimples and horrid black specks. To the girl with the ugly skin I say, you must take a two or three-mile walk every day; you must wear shoes big enough for perfect com­ fort, and, if the skin be thick and oily, you must eschew fats and pastry. In the spring it would be well to try the sulphur remedy, and at the same time you may rub sulphur in a,little glycerine on the face at night, washing it off in warm water and a few drops of ammonia in the morning. A little camphor in the water will re­ move all "shine." And remember, girls, all face powders are snares and delu­ sions.--Virginia, in St. Louis Chron­ icle. • Bright Eyes in Close Carriages. Mexican ladies generally take their exercise in closed carriages, as etiquette forbids them to ride on horseback un­ less accompanied by husband, father, or brother. For a gentleman to ask his first cousin to go out with him, either on foot, on horse, or in a carriage, would be resented as a deadly insult and give sufficient cause for a duel, since to accept the invitation would seriously compromise her good name. On pleasant afternoons (and all after­ noons are pleasant except during the rainy seasons) everybody who owns a carriage or is able to hire one drives out to the Alameda or Paseo--the fashionable boulevard attached to every Mexican town. In all Mexico there is not a phaeton or any other open vehicle above a cart; but though hermetically sealed up in close carriages, one may catch glimpses of bright eyes and beautiful faces--for the fair occupants are not averse to admiration, despite their rigid adherence to etiquette, and are generally about the easiest caeat- ures in the world to flirt with. Many of the handsomest carriages of the wealthiest people are drawn by mules, for "blood stock" of that de­ scription brings fabulous prices here. In truth, a pair of snow-white mules, closely clipped, and carefully groomed, decorated with gold-mounted harness and bunches of red roses at the base of their ears, make a turn-out by no means to be despised.--Letter from Mexico. The Type-writer Girl. No man is a hero to his type-writer girl. The nature of the Unflattering in­ formation which she finds out about him may differ quite from that which men's valets used to find out, in the time when men had valets, but it is just as fatal to on ideal. The ever-present amanu- ensis's watchful eye, her ear that no syllable escapes, take in all his little weaknesses and jot them down indeli­ bly in a mental notebook. She sees his mind, which the world takes to be brilliantly and swiftly constructive, struggling in its paltry workshop, and she knows where he goes to borrow a good many of his tools; she listens to his faltering tongue while it painfully evolves utterances afterward to be bar­ tered to the world under the glittering label extempore; she knows his pro­ crastinations and his petty cowardices in dealing with his correspondence, and has seen him shy away again and again, under pretexts too hollow to deceive her, from some matter which he oould easily face if ho chose to; she has been the victim, now and then, of his little impatiences. In short, she sees through the mast of pretense that deceives the world, and her knowledge is destructive to any aureole of greatness that her imagination may have formed about him before she had the opportunity to study him at short range.--Boston Transcript. THE mind hath not reason to remem­ ber that passions ought to be her vas­ sals, not her masters,-- Sir Walter Ral­ eigh. THKmost unprofitable Ofeg a farmer can raise is glass, if he taiMsit often. IT was a farmer caught by a prairie toe who ran through his property rap- AH agricultural exchange aaks "How to make hogs pay." The best way to avoid the difficulty is not to sell a hog anything unless he pays for it in ad­ vance. WEE Fanny bit her tongue one dav and came in crying bitterly. " What is it?" asked.her mother. "O, mamma," she said, "my teeth stepped ou niy tongue." • SORROWFUL child to the pastor--Mr. B., mother sent me to tell you thai father is dead. Pastor--Is he? Did you call a doctor? Child--No, sir; he just died of himself, "MY dear," said a society belle in evening decollete, "what stvle of gloves do you think will best match my cos­ tume?" "Undressed kids," returned the crusty spouse.--Texas Siftingh. "WORTH makes the man," and that's all right. But when Worth makes the woman he is«pt to break the man, and that isn't all right. But the woman thinks it is, just the sama--Journal of Education. WASHINGTON husband (to wife, who is to give a grand ball)--Are the ar­ rangements completed? Wife (with a sigh of satisfaction)--Yes;, even to the ordering of the police from.tbe Station- housa.--Tid- Bits. , . "WHATEVER you do," says a philoso­ pher, "always take a tight grip." There may bo wisdom in this. Nevertheless, we incline to the opinion that it is not the man who knows how to take a tight grip, but the man who knows how to let go, that exhibits the most- wisdonfc-- Boston Courier. EASILY accounted for. Bill collector 1 --See here, I have written you a dozen letters about that bill you owe my firm, and you haven't even recognized them. Country editor--Were they written on both sides of the sheet ? "Of course." "All such communications go into the waste-basket without reading." AT the theater. She (on her hus­ band's return from the open air)-- Harry, did you notice this important statement on tho program? Please look at it. He (two months elapse be­ tween Acts n. and EEI)--Well, what of that? She--A good deal, I should think. You've been off on a spree for about six weeks.--Neio Haven News. OMAHA child--Why, that'B a new; book, isn't it? Mamma--Yes, it is a long poem called "Paradise Lost" " Who is that woman in that picture?" "That is Eve, the mother of us all." "What a nice dress she has on." "That is only a rose bush she is standing be­ hind, my dear." "Oh, I thought she was going to a party."--Omaha World. "CAN the Missouri River be dammed ?" asks a Montana exchange. Can it? Ask a Missouri Riv^r steamboat cap­ tain whether it can be or not. Ask the mate. Ask the whole crew. From the way you talk it will probably be news to you, but it is nevertheless a fact that there are more artistic and extensive damns strung along the Missouri River than any other stream in the world.--- Dakota Bell. THE editor of an Idaho paper pub­ lishes the following editorial, which speaks for itself: "Do you owe us any­ thing ? If you do you will kindly get up and hump yourselves, hustle around and send us, if not all you owe, at least a part. There is a limit to even an ed­ itor's endurance. It costs money to j)rint a paper, ink costs money, the. wearing away of the gray tissue of the brain is purchased. Some people may, be able to exist on snowballs, and during the siege of Paris hundreds of people lived on broth, the nourishing qualities of which were drawn from boiled dkate. straps. We can't do it; we have tried: it. As we sit in our frozen office medi­ tatively breaking icicles off the ink bot-: tie we think about these things; we have to."--Peck's Sun. • ' S " ' 'v -*': *• » ' • A Good Man's TenderneM. I Boys are sometimes tempted to think that to be tender-hearted is to be weak and unmanly. Yet the tenderest heart may be associated with the strongest and most forcible mind and will. Take for example, the story told to him to whom we owe our great railway system. George Stephenson went one day into an upper room of his house and closed the window. It had been left open a long time because of the great heat, but now the weather was becoming cooler, and so Mr. Stephenson thought it would be well to shut it. He little knew at the time what he was doing., Two or three days afterward, however, he chanced to observe a bird flying against that same window, and beating, against it with all its might, again and again, 'as if trying to break it. His sympathy and curiosity were aroused. What could the little thing want? He at once went to the room and opened the window to see. The window opened, the bird flew straight to one particular spot in the room, where Stephenson- saw a nest--that little bird's nest. The poor bird looked at it, took the sad' story in at a glance, and fluttered down to the floor, broken-hearted, almost dead. Stephenson, drawing near to look,' was filled with unspeakable sorrow^ There sat the mother bird, and under it four tiny little young ones--mother and young ones all apparently dead.: Stephenson cried aloud. He tenderly lifted the exhausted bird from the floor, • the worm it had so long and bravely struggled to bring to its home and its young still in its beak, and carefully; tried to revive it; but all his efforts proved in vain. It speedily died, and the great man mourned for many a day.. At that time the force of George Stephenson's mind was changing the face of the earth, yet he wept at the; sight of this dead family, and was deeply grieved because he himself had unconsciously been the cause of dea|t^ --Manchester Times. !' r i Getting Rid of a Runaway Hone.1 The horseback rider wlio should strap himself to his beast so that he could not dismount in ca3e of the horse's failing or rolling or other acci­ dent would be considered foolhardy, but men and w&men will sit in a ve­ hicle which is securely hitched to a horse, and, if the animal runs away, remain in it in the hope of controling it until it is dangerous to jump and dan­ gerous to remain. In such a case a simple apparatus, which can easily be imagined, for detaching tfae shafts or pole from a carriage and freeing the vehicle, would remove all danger to hu­ man life and limb and allow the frac­ tious animal to continue its mad career without imperiling its human passofr* gen.--Norwich Bulletin. >