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ir-; oa1k«t ye»r'« ] , oa1k«t year'a MtiraS, ia«rd,baah udtow; a i«Mhofwlnga tfjwwn «ttt» awnllt lane I •• , ~i leapa up at on« e ear aoag^ t The blnebirda 1 iatod carol a ripple dowa fj:| i ; VMI*. »1ov nolo the ear! f 4HwRkUag brook« we laughin? out, i 3 . tolMIMltilM twinkle far and neWri asaoky upland* atcaped iu sua, { lark wtttt winter's waate and r|na of life now i'ems 11 say: S Tna bluebirds! Sfca fSneblrils hare come home again! «rtIIow* ataow their misty green; bush and bough piuk buda oit-|tipj j aa if the ak y drew near kiaa the earth from wintry sleep,»?, 1 > s; r KE%!^v. • ' >"W*hmrthat clear exultant song I'fHi , Which nerer knew a touch cf pain, .*• , .; <>! |-v* • tRtirthMv wlth^romiaes of spring. ¥ ' • * bluebirds I :fe s At bluebird* have corns Hon)* agMfcit V.,. 'ii.iiMtoMaw Da.t. . »i ENCOUNTER WITH BURGLARS \ 4* , Sir. ; BY wnxis 8. JOZOSS. 'M j"'1 -I In the fall of 1866 I was employed as atelerk in a general store at a cross TOad.s in Southern Indiana. The store, * church, and a blacksmith shop, with two residences, made up the buildings, «td the families of the merchant and KM blacksmith were the only residents, lb country about was thickly settled Vp, however, and trade was always ^ood. Before the merchant engaged aae he announced that I would have to llMp in the store o* nights, and that I had pluck enough to defend 41m place against marauders he did not tnat me at any price. He showed me «shotgun, a revolver, and a spring MI, which were used, or on hand to M used, to defend the place, and the 'windows were protected with stout Minds and the doors by double locks. The close of the war had drifted a bad popalatioft into Indiana. The highways were full of tramps, and there were hundreds of men who had determined %» make a living by some other means than labor. Several attempts had been asade to rob the store, and it had come to that pass that no clerk wanted to *Jfiep there alone. TM merchant seemed satisfied with •'the answer I gave him and on a certain )io*d»y morning I went to work. That •••III night a store about four miles away broken into and robbed and the ^lark seriously wounded. Two nights later three horses were stolen in onr UMighborhood. At the end of the week m farmer who was on his way home 4ham eur store was robbed on the high* had not been a light sleeper Strom habit these occurrences would have taaded to prevent too lengthy dreams «• I lay in my little bedroom at the front «f the second story. The revolver was «hray placed under my pillow and the nhetgua stood within reach. The anting gun was set about midway of *the lower floor. It was a double-bar- mled shotgun, eaoh barrel containing • big charge of buckshot, and the man who kicked the string and discharged ft* weapon would never know what It did not seem possible that any dne wtid break into the store without arousing me. There was no door to nay room, and after the people in the neighborhood had gone to bed I could <feaar the slightest noise in the atoras I ted locked the place over for a weak f oi end had faded to find it, but fiy own confidence came near proving iMatf uiUon. I should have told j *hatfastovdr the spot where we the mih^gna was animening through whiuhwe hoisted and lowered such for a time on the not in use this covered by a trap-door. . evening, o<v the tenth day of kshiftl hoisted np a lot of pails had just finished when trade became so brisk that I was called 4e wait *noa customers. Later on I wear that I had left -the trapdoor open, and. I aaid to myielTttit I would let it 90 until I went to bed. The store had tin only burglar-proof safe for miles mound, and it was customary with the former who had $100 or so to leava it with us. He received an en- "Valopein which to enclose it, and he «aeald take out and put in as he liked. Os this evening four or five farmers ' WT I W< and *bc np, we had About $1,500 in the were two strange faces in the wrowd that evening. One belonged to «roughly-dressed, evil-eyed man, who -announced himself as a drover, and the mother to a professional tramp. I gave the latter a pieoe of tobacco and some amefcers ana cheese and he soon went r. *nd we were so busy up to 9 : that I did not give the drover attention. When we came to ufeat up the store he had gone from my 'Mind altogether. We counted up the •flash, made some charges in the day -beak, and it was about 10 o'clock when "the merchant left I was tired out, and J[ took a candle and made the circnit of "the store, set the spring gun and went •%> bed. I had to pass within six feet -10C the trap door as I went to my room, %ut I did not see it It was a rather «hilly night in October, and we had no fins yet, and as I got under the blan- Hkets the warmth was so grateful that I eoon fell asleep. It was the first night I had gone to bed without thinking of grabbers and wondering how I should *act in case they came in. I did not 'know when I fell asleep. I suddenly found myself half up-right in bed, and there was an echo in the store, as if the flail of something had aroused me. It %aa 1 o'clock, and I had been asleep ^almost three hours. Leaning on my «lbow, I strained my ears to catch the -aiightest sound, and after a minute I beard a movement down stairs. While J could not say what it was, a sort of 'Instinct told me that it was made by aome human being. Every thin g on the street was as silent , pa the grave. My window-curtain was ***eed and I could Bee that the sky had "thickened up and was very black. I '*jM not wait for the noise to be re- , jpoated. I was just as sure some one in the store as if I had already y> him. I crept softly out of bed, 4»OW on my trousers, and moved out viato the big room, having the revolver VI my hand. There was no door at the ! Ittad of the stairs. I intended to go ^thsw and listen down the stairway. 4a I was moving across the room, •Which was then pretty clear of goods as war aa the trapdoor, I suddenly recol- this opening and changed my to reach it. It was terriblv -in the room, &ND OQB unfamiliar Hth the' place would not have dared to agora a'foot Half way to the trap I C*t down On my hands and knees, and 1 a lighted eWHBOjtad two or .. . . figures at the sew, sad I could hear th» combination being worked. Mf first thought was to drop my hand down and wen fire iu their drectien, but'2 re­ membered that we had so wnfcttt* oles hanging up that no bullet had a chance of reaching to the safe. I Has wondering what to do when I heard one of them whisper: "It's all d---d ĵ CBUiense. We night work here a week ancfudt hit it" "But I told you to bring ̂the tools and you wouldn't," protested another. "Oh, dry up?" put in a third voice. "What we want to do is to go up and bring that counter-hopper down and make him open the box." TU give the cussed thing a few more trials," said the first man, and I heard him working away again. My eyes Trould not have told me the num­ ber of robers, but my ears had. There were three of them, and they were no doubt desperate and determined men. They spoke of bringing me down to open the safe as if no resistance was anticipated or taken into aooount In­ deed, they might well reason that they had me at their mercy. The rain was now falling, the night was very dark, and a pistol shot in the store could not have been heard in either of the dwell­ ings. If they had reflected that I might be armed, they would have off­ set it with the fact that I was a boy of 18 with a girl's face and probably a girl's nerve. I don't deny that I was a bit rattled, and that my lip would quiver iu spite of me, but I was at the same time fully determined to protect the store if it cost me my life. How to get at the fellows was what bothered me, but that trouble was soon solved. "There," whispered the man at the combination, as he let go of it, "I won't fool here another minute. That kid knows the combination, and we can make him work it Come 00." They were coming np stairs. The best place for me would be at the head of the stairway. The stairs had a half turn in them, and I would fire upon the first man who came within range. I heard the men coming back to the stairway, and mynerve gave way. It wasn't from cowardice, but the knowl­ edge that I was to kill a human being upset me. I decided to retreat to my room, and if they persisted in coming that far, I would shoot The trio had rubbers on their feet, but they came up stairs without trying very hard to prevent making a noise. The one who came first had the candle, and, as he got to the head of the Btairs, I saw a knife in his other hand. They made no delay in approaching my room, and, with a great effort I braced myself for what I saw must happen. They could not see me until within three or four feet of the doer, and their first intima­ tion that I was out of bed was when they heard me call out: ' r ' "Stop, er I'll shoot!" •• v I had them covered with the weapon, and for fifteen seconds there was dead silence. Then they got a plan. The man with the candle dashed it on the floor, and I suppose they meant to rush on me in the dark, but I checkmated it by opening fire. They then either meant to retreat down stairs or toward the rear of the floor, for I saw the three together moving off, and fired at their dim figure* Three seconds later there was a great shout of horror, followed by the tremendous report of the double-barreled spring gun, and then there was absolute silence. I think I stood in the door, shaking like a leaf, for fully three minutes before the si­ lence was broken by a groan. Then it came to me that the robbers had fallen through the open door upon the cord leading to the gnn. I struck a match, lighted my own candle, and, going to the opening, saw three bodies lying be­ low. Running back to the bed-room to recharge my revolver, I then went down-stairs to investigate. It was as I suspected. The thaae had pitched down together. The top of one's head had been blown off by the shot, a sec­ ond had a hole in his ohest as big as your fist, while the third, wbo was re­ sponsible for the groans, was severely wounded in both legs. It was three months before he could be put on trial, and he then got four years in prison. The whole thing was a put-up job. The "drover" was a Chicago burglar called "Clawhammer Dick," and he had hidden himself in the store that night, and then let his pals in by the back door. They had a horse and wagon in the rear of the building, and the plan was to rob the store of goods as well as to get at the money in the safe, A bit of carelessness on my part not only saved the store and probably my life, but wiped out a vet/ ate gang. IT MM. jr. T. BU KOOXi * T IKE an ' j I mother'i n. J--^1 i 111 < v 1 Snowdrop lies V IKE an infant in ilk 's arms, the" e village of tha Wat had fragrant floral lirora sight the that careful hands had low t̂enderly I tope of farm ant Amy in I of green on One lonely [tied hills far country our beautiful West­ ern States. The Tillage took its name from .the fact that all the cottages in it were painted white, with a band of grass green for a finish. It was ehristened Harmony by the early settlers, but when it arrived at the importance of supporting a postoffice. tn< portion of the place' ity,.and it was known Snowdrop Postoffice--finally, as Snow­ drop. It is one of those dwarf, thus- far-and-no-farther towns whose cor­ poration line is as conspicuous as a wall of stone. Eefore the war it was noted and known as Mr. Harwood's home. His elegant cottage occupied the loveliest spot on it, and was surrounded by walks, fruit, and vegetable gardens, a few orchard and many delightful shade trees. Back of the house a_beautiful lawn stretched away to the hilly wood­ land, and near its center sparkled a crystal fountain; close by stood two large wild crab trees, with their heads leaning softly together, over which a wild grapevine had grown for many years, twining its tendrils around the green boughs, and formed a deep and fragrant shade, under whioh were four roomy rustic seats; and this was known as the outdoor reading-room. Plato, Emerson, and Victor Hugo were heard in that sylvan retreat. It was the home of homes in Snow­ drop. Here all the aspiring youth: of the village and surrounding oountry, who had any taste or talent for any of the fine arts, found hearty welcome and encouraging sympathy. Mrs. Har- wood, notwithstanding her many house­ hold and other duties, was never too busy to entertain any one into whose life she could throw one ray of helpfnl light The companion and helpmeet of her husband in the truest and high- between two ̂loved. It „r out i. tw mother. Aa Buth still lingered, joa^h JNN near the foot of Hfn» 1 and watched the last glow «f vanish and the slowly dee light doaa around her. But the . r _ clear, and the stars looked down in love and pity with unuanall̂ tender light, [ tori- and the rim of the iBOMt was SO had the pure young | rounding into view, with mother love m for a time as nee_df / Winton entwined its around and leaned for »n the precious life that winged its flight to the bleseed Beyond. To whom could she go now with the great overwhelming •orraw that had settled upon her and diraped her spirit in garments of woe; sacred un- no lip con- feesion after souls have spoken to eaoh other. James Harwood knew this when he marched away at duty's call, bearing in his bosom the heart of that young girl, and leaving in its stead his own, to be treasured there forever. That she was more bereft than others, waa all unknown to the quiet people of Snowdrop^ That she remained alone by the grave until the dusk descended was noted by them as only an expres­ sion of a love that all shared in com­ mon. It was the 30th of the month, And the restless winds moaned pite- ously. The Harwood home was left in ewe of the good old gardener and his wife, who for many years had been members of the household, serving and rejoio- ing in their labor that was always abundantly rewarded. They were to keep the home as the mother had left it--airy, clean, and a light always burning ready to receive its only mas­ ter if ae should ever return to claim and take possession of it The winter came and wore away. The emerald grasses, like threads thrown from unseen shuttles by un­ seen hands, wove and tangled and knotted themselves into beautiful coverings over the reviving world. The woodland was vocal with melo­ dies of happy wildbirds. The very earth trembled with rapture at the touches of awakening beauty and fra­ grant with the breath of buds and blos­ soms. The war was over. The jubilee, though abruptly marred by deep, dis­ cordant notes of sorrow, was yet sweet, and sung with rejoicing by a war-weary and thankful nation. James Harwood emerged from his rison-pen a shadow of his former self, father and three brothers had pris His fall. Aathew and CrWtlfc An exchange makes a remark te the effect that of the thousands of books brought out during the past few years only a few of them were a source of revenne to their authors, and this is no doubt a literal fact As a general thing an author could make more money shoveling snow than in writing books. The trouble is that the reader misses something in the modern fiction, something new, for in­ stance. The only thrilling tale, nowa­ days, is not spelt that way, and belongs to a rattlesnake. With few exceptions the only promising writers are those who draw up notes. When you hear or read of a man sup­ porting himself by literature, an inves­ tigation will probably reveal the fact that he obtained the cash by pawning his books. Authors, and especially poets, leave the nest before they are able to fly. They flutter a little, the critic cat gets them, and that is the end of them. In such eases the critic is not to be blamed, but often the critic is simply a big dog barking at what he can't understand. Some of the greatest works in the En­ glish language have been assailed by premature critics. It is much easier to be critical than correct A drunkard cursing the moon, a maniac foaming at some magnificent statue which stands safe and serene above his reach, or a ruffian crushing roses on his way to midnight plunder, is but a type of the sad work which a clever but heartless and imaginative critic often makes of the works of genius.--Tezag Siftinga. jr1 rv V; p< ilavB on my stomach, down There was a light down stairs. That settled laetthat some one was in the store. a minute I heard whispers, then movement of feet, then a certain which located the intruders to a I 4rew myself forward and Greek Types. "Ton Americans are apt to oonfoun Greek types," remarked a foreign sculptor, "resident of Boston. "I have heard so many call Langtry more statuesque than Mary Anderson. Lang- try now is the type the Greeks would use as an outdoor statue, for garden purposes and the like, while Mary An' derson would be the indoor model. In all her lines she is the purer Greek of the two. And there are more pure Greek outlines in America than in any other country in the world."--Boston Advertiser. THESE is an Indian tribe in California consisting of one man. When he dies his language will oease to be spoken. est sense, she was still the companion, teacher, and friend of her four brilliant boys, the youngest of whom was sev­ enteen years old when the war broke out What a shadow then fell upon that once peaceful and happy placet How many home3 were broken from time to time, crape on the door made known. How many noble men were wounded, crippled, or killed in battle, the his­ tory of the place bears record. Bftt how many hearts were crushed and* hushed into silence, with their burden of love, broken and buried under; sepulchers of living stone, only God', knows. • In response to the first call for vol­ unteers - Captain Harwood marched away, followed by his four noble sons. That paradise, lately so tranquil Mid happy, was now, to dear Mrs. Har­ wood, as the world would be if the sun should suddenly go out The first fierce days of agony were succeeded by a kind of stupefaction not destitute of hope, nor yet wholly overshadowed by the sullen blackness and numb bar­ renness of despair. The village girls gathered around her, it has been hinted, as mnch to receive condolence as to offer it, for many a hope too sacred ever to be frampd in words went out of sight with those brave boys in blue. But it was well they clustered around her, for new hopes, new joys, new am­ bitions,, new works were to be born. Hands that had used pencils and brush were to scrape lint for the wounds of heroes; fingers that had penned stan­ zas for the county newspapers were to knit soeks for travel-stained and weary feet; dainties by the box full were to be prepared for the sick and suffering far away. The "Harwood Home" became "Aunt Amy's," the oenter for contributions, and for good works in any way designed to aid or comfort those who had offered their lives that their country might live. One, two, three years rolled into eternity, wrapped about in garments of blood, and still, at inteHbls, came let­ ters from Captain Harwood and the boys, to fill with joy and hope the hearts of expectant girls and the life of that prayerful, devoted mother. A few more months and that dread­ ful day, the 12th of May, l86i, had passed and a nation was bowed in tears. There was little hope that even one returning hero was ever to bring joy to the waiting hearts of Snowdrop. All its brave were numbered among the slain; father, sons, and friends, to sleep forever in Southern graves; all save one, and he was a prisoner in a pen a thousand times worse than a graven Great griefs are close companions of death, and when they have entered the life and broken the heart of a woman, and turned her soul out to endure the remaining bleak years of existence alone, she sees the door of the sepulcher open. The responses to her cry in the night come down from the Land of her risen loves. Bhe is transfigured, and soothed by unseen hands, she abides her time in peace and people say she is re­ signed. The grasses grew and with their em­ erald mantle covered hill and vale; and trees put on their robes of green. The roses of June were just as sweet, and autumn brought her golden sheaves as if nothing unusual had transpited. Busy hands carried calmly on the work of the world. Cornelia, in her womanly, Roman pride, loved not the Gracchi more, cared not more for thefr manners and education than did the less noted and bereaved mother love and care for the "Harwood boys." "The mother and poet" of Italy, whose sons, "Dead, one of them shot by the aea in the F.aat, And one of them shot m the West by the aea," was a sister in sorrow and hopeless woe to bereft Aunt Amy. Each had con­ tributed in a woman's noblest way to the boilding of the Temple,' the foup dations of which are laid in, ce­ mented with, the best blobd of' ev^ry fallen before his eyes, and long had slept,with many of his boyhood friends, in unmarked Southern graves. The news of his mother's death was received shortly after his release, and the heartbreaking agony, that was too merciless to kill, threw him into a vio­ lent fever, and it was not until the 30th of May, 1865, that he was able to reach the village of Snowdrop. Through the deep woods on the west of the place he wound his way to the shaded lawn back of the house, and en­ tered his old home unseen by any of the villagers. The gardener and his wife were transported with joy at the sight of him, and expressed it in many ways, but for the first half-hour their delight waa so cl<iM akin to pain that they cried violently; and it took the utmost power of the young soldier to sup­ press their piteous sobs, and soothe them into silence. But, pacified at last, they.promised to keep His return a secret, that he might rest and regain his strength in solitude. There are sorrows so sacred that no voice dare. intrude upon them with fruitless words. Into such sorrow was the soul of James Harwood baptized when he retired to his own room that had been arranged for his reception by the careful, loving hands of his dear, dead mother. The draperies were faultless. The pictures that hung upon the walls were well-selected land­ scapes of the most delightful scenes. Photographs of those he loved were disposed nere and there in exquisite little frames. His desk, a thing of beauty in itself, was just as he had left it, except that it was ornamented with a few choice bits of bric-a-brac, and upon it was % vase of beautiful de- filled with immortelles. His chaii: cushioned anew with aoft, sign was colored plush, and reposed be­ neath his table, upon which lay several choice volumes. - On the edge of the table nearest his chair lay his volume of Victor Hugo's "Lea Mis- erables." A satin bookmark, with his name embroidered upon it in illumin­ ated silken letters by his mother's care­ ful fingers, opened the volume at the fourth chapter of the fifth book of St Denis. £4$us leave him alone,loir thp time and of ete^ry nation. upon the „r as slowly the funeral October's fanlight trembled \ ; i** ' { train made its way to f ie . 1 burial' two hours that he spent reading and re-reading that sad but beautiful chapter. Communicating with his was his other's room. Should he venture lere? Ah! he did; but into that holy of holies we shall not lead you. You may only glanoe at him as, on his bend­ ed knees, he kisses and caresses his mother's vacant chair that reclines close to her low table, upon which stands her shaded lamp, and near it her willow work basket, in which lies an unfinished bit of etabroidery, and a well worn copy of Whittier'i poems, opened face downward at the poem en­ titled <:The Eternal.QoodiKMS." Beside the table is a quaint little cabinet con taiuing the toys, bloeks and broken playthings that were once the delight of her four darling boys. . Look no longer, for the memories that rush upon him there make him tremble more than would the tread of a thousand foes. He can endure no more, and has gone out into the night air to wander off alone,* eluding the watch of his loving keepers. His moth­ er's grave is the Mecca toward which his restless feet are turned. That very morning had the old gar­ dener gathered all of the most beauti­ ful flowers and carefully arranged them in moss for Mary Winton. Hince the 30th of October, when tender hands had smoothed the new-made grave and covered it with flowers, on the 30th of each succeeding month sweet offerings, arranged by her loving hands, had breathed their fragranoe there. The crimson light of the slowly d upon her gracious face. Mary loved to sit alone and watch the ailent skies, but her sweet brown eyes ware not turned heavenward, they ware bant upon the grave before her; her loag brown curls had escaped their net and pins and wandered over her lovely shoulders. She had arisen to £& and was stand­ ing in the deep shadow of a thick- boughed cedar near the grave whan an approaching footstep startled her. She did not move nor cry ont. She was on sacred ground and felt that no one meaning harm would venture there. A moment more and a manly form knelt before the tomb. The name upon the stone was discernible in the clear moon­ light. "Oh, my dear, dear mother 1* said the man, clasping tha strong marble and hanging upon it as a weak child clings to its nurse's neck. "Why could not you have been spared to me, my mother? Oh, my mother! Not one of all I loved left me except Mary Winton, and she may be false or married." She is neither," responded a trem­ ulous voice and the speaker, emerging from the shadow, approached him but was faint and fell helpless at hu feet O, my Mary, my darling Mary! I thank God that you are here to bless me," said James Harwood reviving from the stupefaction into which his burden of sorrow had plunged him. "Dearest girl, have I killed you? No, no; your heart is beating--Mary, my own Mary, speak to me, O speak to me!" "Yes, James, the surprise overcame me. I am better now. I had quite forgotten myself and am here too late. I can walk now and must hasten home quickly " But before she could say "good­ night" loving arms held her fast; two hearts beat close together, two souls joined that death may separate but not put asunder; and by the 30th of the next month husband and wife stood side by side at the tomb of their dead, and covered it with garlands of sweet June roses. And each returning 30th of May when soldiers are remembered t^uit mother of soldiers is not forgotten. - The Book Auction. When a book-auction firm receives the consignment of a library it sets itself at once to work to put it in al­ phabetical and methodical order. A catalogue is then made and printed, in which each volume, sejt, or group is numbered and described. Yon find out by this the date and place of pub­ lication, and, what is often most valu­ able, the particular edition. Limited editions and large paper copies are specified, and if the book is a dateless one, as many, I am sorry to say, un­ fortunately and ridiculously are, the italics n. d. are appended. There are also other cabalistic marks by which the initiated understand what features the book lacks or possesses. Sometimes a paragraph of commendation, fre­ quently a quotation from some author who has been delighted by the volume or author, is appended to this descrip­ tion. If the book has an autograph on the fly-leaf, or is a presentation copy, or if pictures are inserted, the particu­ lar circumstance is noted. Equally explicit also are the notifications of binding and of any imperfections whatever, such as a torn title-page, a broken cover, missing leaves, etc. The catalogue, in fact, equips you as well as it can to know what you are buying. But the firm does still more than that; it spreads the volumes out on long tables for a day or two previous to the sale, where you are at liberty to look them over and carefully inspect them. And this a thing that the regular habitue of the auction is sure to do. The catalogues of sales are sent out in advance to booksellers, book-collect­ ors, and private buyors; and when these persons cannot attend personally, they can send in bids to the auctioneer or to some one of the buyers present, The booksellers send one of their clerks usually to buy. Some of the quite small boys connected with bookstores get the routine of auction procedure in their heads rapidly, and buy with great discernment aud success. If the catalogue is very expensive and volu­ minous it is not distributed free, except to a very few extensive buyers. To all others it is sold at either 50 cents or a dollar usually. You can, however, borrow one for the session you attend. But if yon buy one, and while attend­ ing the sale mark on its. margin the price of eaoh volume as it is sold, you will greatly enhance its value. For a priced catalogue of an important sale becomes itself an important book, and is oiten sold at a high price, where the library it represents is one of great value and interest If there is a fa­ mous book named in a catalogue, like the "Breeches Bible," or some rare and curious blaok-letter book, the high price that a previous copy brought, or that Quaritch or some great bookman in London or Paris paid for it» is often noted.--Cosmopolitan. YOUNO DOCTOR KXLLEM--Yott sav you wish me to aocept a position witn your company. I am surprised, for I did not imagine that your Directors had ever even heard of me. What is it they wish me to do? Act as their med­ ical examiner ? Insurance agent--No, sir; the President of our company has directed me to offer you a salary of $2,000 a year, if you will give np thS practice of medicine. The death rate is becoming so alarmingly high that unless active measures are token at once we are bound to go under. THKBE is a strong likeness between a chronio invalid and a cracked china dish, which is handled so carefully that it outlasts many a sound whole one, which by a single inadvertenoe is to atoms. in the m arises a that any education _ that does not bMr directly upon terial suocess. I should e«gr the pro­ fessions, inoluding divinity and tha work of the scholar and Hie man of let* ters, do not have the weight there that they do in some otiwr places. The professional man, either in the college or the pulpit, is expected to look alive and keep up with the proeessfcHi. Tradition is weak; it is no objection to a thing that it is new, and in the gen­ eral strain "sensations" are welcome. The general motto is, "Be alive; be practical" Naturally, also, wealth ire- cently come by desires to assert itself a little in display, in ostentatious houses, luxurious living, dress, jewelrr, even to the frank delight in the diamond shirt stud. But we are writing of Americans, and the Americans are the quiokest people in the world to adapt themselves to new situations. Tho Western people travel much, at home and abroad, and they do not require a very long expe­ rience to know what is in bad taste. They are as quick as anybody--I be­ lieve they gave us the phrase--to "catch on" to quietness and a low tone. Indeed, I don't know but tbey would boast that if it is a question of subdued style, they can beat the world. The revolution which has gone all over the country since the Exposition of 1876 in house-fnrnishing and decoration is quite as apparent at the West as in the Mast The West has not suffered, more than the East from eccentrici-' ties of architecture in the past twenty- years. Violations of good taste are pretty well distributed, but of new houses %the proportion of handsome, solid, good structures is as large in the West as in the East, and in the cities I think the West has the advantage in variety. It must be frankly said that if the Easterner is surprised at the size, cost, and palatial charac­ ter of many of their residences, he is less surprised by the refinement and good taste of their interiors. There are cases where money is too evident, where the splendor has been ordered, but there are plenty of other cases where individual taste is apparent, and love of harmony and beauty. What I am trying to say is that the East un­ dervalues the real refinement of living going along with the admitted cost and luxury in the West. The art of dining is said to be a test of civilization--on a certain plane. Well, dining in good houses (I believe that is the phrase) is much the same East and West as to appointments, service, cuisine, and talk, with a trifle more freedom and sense of newness in the West No doubt there is a difference in tone, ap­ preciable but not easy to define. It relates less to the things than the'way the things are considered. Where a family has had "things" for two or three generations they are less an ob­ ject than an unregarded matter of course; where things and a manner of living are newly acquired, they have more importance in themselves. An old community, if it is really civilized, (I mean a state in which intellectual concerns are paramount) values less and less, as an end, merely material re­ finement The tendency all over the United States is for wealth to run into vulgarity. --Charles Dudley Warner, in Harper's Magazine. An Unlucky Man. Old man Syntax, as he was familiarly called, was one of those unfortunate mortals whose lives are one unbroken run of bad luck. He was always on the point of consummating some great achievement when a combination of dis­ astrous circumstances would squelch all his hopes. Sadness and sorrow brooded over his early life, and grief and bereavement had the drop on him in his old age. Many and many a time, when he was about to get the better of a greenhorn in a trade, would some one take the greenhorn aside and Syntax would be foiled. Often and often when a piece of buttered toast would be raised to his mouth would it fall to the ground, and in nine cases out of ten would the buttered side be down. And thus the whirling years went around and old man Syntax was sad and gloomy1. He had a son named Tom, and Tom was wild and would never settle down to steady work. He and the old man moved to the vicinity of San Angelo, Texas, and soon after their arrival, when fortune was beginning to relax her features preparatory to smiling on them, Tom was hung by a mob of lynchers who mistook him for another man. He was a martyr to circumstan­ tial evidence. The lynchers felt very sorry when they discovered their mis­ take, and appointed a committee to wait upon Tom's bereaved parent and apologize. The committee called on old man Syntax. "We regret the--the accident, Col. Syntax, and we assure you it will not occur again." "Gentlemen," replied the old man sadly, "it's putty tough on me, but I'm gittin' kinder used to misfortune." "Had much trouble before,old man?' "Trouble! Well I should sob. Why, I have had nothing else 'oeptin' trouble and disappointment" "Is that so?" "Yes. Some years ago I went Into the cattle business near Austin, and in a short time, considerin' my capital, by hard, hard work, I accumulated a large herd of cattle from which I expected to realize somethin' handsome, but jist as I was gettin' ready to drive them off and sell 'em, a lot of men came to my ranch and took possession of the whole bunch." "How could they do that if you could prove that the cattle were yours?" "Hey?" "They were your cattle, were they not?" "And after that me and Tom started a store in San Antonio, and wouldhave made a heap of money out of it if the fire insurance company had paid up." "Why didn't the fire insurance com­ pany pay you for your "H« "" ey?" "I say, why didn't--" ' - 1 "And then Tom and me discov­ ered a mine out on Hondo canyon an& we got a rich Englishman 'interested, and we had some chunks of ore assayed, and we were mighty near gittin' $10,- 000 for a half interest." > "What prevented the Englishman from purchasing?" - "Hey?" . • "I say, why didn't the--* "As 1 was saying, me and--" • Bnt they didn't stop to hear sl|j more.--Texas Siftings. A JOUHG Madras Brahmin, married, in a communication to the Indian Magasine, speaks of his marriage aa "the eternal knot of sorrow tied." !?|V ,-#0Mwho Iheils isn't a deal of acquainted go with me to- Eve--I have much for i sens* ADAM (just with Eve) night toi nothing to wear. GKHUUIXY speaking who has just accepted a i a bit happier . aboa* It who has just got a "MY name? I> R. Smith,' at the hotel, whareapoa man addressed remarked sweet smile,vSo be I." Tax man who was found ters oat of the f!shermaati nanret gave as his excuse that he believed in ad­ mitting raw material free. THK more faithfully a girl keeps a diary the more religiously she wants to keep it out of the way of everybody else in the neighborhood. SOMK people are passionately fond of doughnuts. Qthers never eat anv ] of a doughnut etoept the hole. people seldom have dyspepsia. THE difference: "Ah, yes," said a cabinet-maker to a crockery dealer, to whom he was introduced,--"ah, vea, you sell tea-sets, and I sell settees."* "SDiKMCB ia ffoMan," HUfti mhl Bat that Aa long ago; i sssr These The motto of the preaent age :; Is "Money talks, * you kno^ --Boston Courier. QUEEN VICTORIA. graphed smiling. has been photo- The photographer brought the pleased expression to her face by promising her the piotures at half price. . ,V ; GIVE ASP TAKE. • tPIVE m6 a kiss, my darling, tfo," ,1 ' "> 'He aald ai he gazed in her eye* ao bln(ft"" *, *1 won't," ahe aaid, "yon lazy sit, t-SS 4 Screw up your lipa and help yourself." HUSBAND--My dear, do you think that I am conceited about my pergonal appearance? Wife (thoughtfully)-- Well, yes, John, a little. Most homely men are, you know. "ANOTHER big wash-out on our line!" exclaimed the railroad employe's in­ dustrious helpmeet, pointing ~ to tha string of . whitened clothes which stretched from their back window to a house across the. way. --Detroit Free Frees. FIRST Gilded that Brown, who for me. Wonder he doesn't look like me Second ditto--No, that's Youth--There goes is constantly taken what's the reason? the least so; but then .1 •*/- % yon may look like him, don't cher know. --Life. "CHANGE is a great help to the sick," remarked Dr. Pellet, while visiting a patient "Yes, doctor," returned the latter, "and as my stock of it at present is limited I shall have to ask you to wait awhile for your fea"--Boston Budget. • HAILSTONES as big as bird's eggs were picked up in the streets of an eastern town during a squall recently. It may be mentioned as a coincidence, that the local paper, issued the dav previous, contained a poem entitled, "Hail, beautiful spring!"--Detroi. Free Press. THESE are the days when the young man starts out to spend $5 on Ave Christmas presents for flvo girls, and at the close of a bewildering afternoon finds that he has spent $15 on three presents for three girls.-- Kansas City Journal. A YOUNG man proposed for the hand of a beautiful girl As she hesitated, he said, "I await your answer with bated breath." The girl, who is a good deal of a humorist, said, "Well, Mr. M., you will have to bait your breath with something besides highwines to catch your humble servant" "I AM tired of this monotonous life!-* cried a young man whose home was among rural scenes in the far East "I feel that there is something in me that reaches far above the humble sphere in which I live, but there is nothing here to call me out" He resolved to go where there was something to call him ont, so he went to Texas. He hadn't been there two days before he was called out--to fight a duel for some imaginary wrong, and he went right back to the old farm. He doesnt want to be called out any more.--Texas Siftings. • The Pacific Railroad Syndicate* It is believed that the combined wealth of the four members of the Cen­ tral Paoific Company--Stanford, Hun­ tington, Crocker, and the Hopkins es­ tate--is no less than $500,000,XX)0. By far the greater part of this has been made in railroads* No-one of the firm but the Crookers has made money^out- side of railroads. Mr. Crocker has branched out into other lines--bought real estate, ereoted buildings, and shown much enterprise in various, di­ rections--that would leave him well off should his railroad properties and se­ curities be annihilated to-morrow. Sen­ ator Stanford has made all his money in railroads. His stock farm at Palo Alto has been an expense, and if his Yina farm is paying now it is for the first time. Senator Stanford's $100,- 000,000 fortune was made out of the Central Pacific and the enterprises it led to. The Central Pacific was the result of the generosity of the Govern­ ment in risking its money, which it has not got back and on which it has seen no interest. The Government has taken the risks. Why should it not have the profits? Mr. Stanford put in $100,000; the Government put in $27,- 000,000, or, if Mr. Stanford insists on the discount, $20,000,000. Why should they not share in the profits in this proportion ? To be perfectly fair so Mr. Stanford we will allow that his services should be adequately rewarded. The highest salary in the United States to-day is $50,000 a year. Allowing this to Mr. Stanford for his twenty-four, years of service, he would be entitled to $1,200,000 for salary, and, say $500,- 000 for his capital, and we may throw in his keep as a premium. The re­ maining $98,000,000 justly belongs to the Government--if "equities" are to count If the "equities" oi Messrs. Stanford and Huntington are to go before the Court of Claims, we insist that the Government make out its bill on these : lines and demand the exporting of the millionaires' private nooks. -- San .• Francisco Post. Time for Consideration. "Aside from my passionate devotion, darling," he said tremulously, "my fu­ ture prospects, in a business way, are flattering in the extreme. I have just patented a nutmeg grater which my friends all say will bring to me not. alone fame, but an immense fortune." "Mr. Sampson," began the girl shyly* "while I confess that I am not wholly indifferent to yon, I must have time to think it over before I give to you the : wealth of my young heart's first affeo- tions." "How long a time, deer?" he asked. ̂ "Until we find ont how the nutmeg grater goes."--JTeto Fork Sun. IM Vf 1A»V . r, • v WM.