^ | •m •• _*«& 6 .{SVwp^^T1^ - •„, <•" fi "Hfcool; «d),Uft»t - ••'- f Mir do? . I ntti>u or jiln. # 'f •hoe ? *%>, llW>'l'!f fc»9V *11 J»f £ J iiKlf>ring thius" uw*Tf •;ir«^ f-t to fin n itb lunak, __ _-JO-by" to say. mother fit amis at tho door to Mf, ' ' awll aw ay : ._ with n sigh t l)at i« half tflW- ,. a something ak in to grief. *£P*8W of * post tide farure morn, . Wh#B tbe children, one by ono, , urjl go from thcii ln.mr out into the world Tfik battle with !lf« alone, And not even the babv baleft to cheer 't Yhe desolate home of that future year. tibe picks up garments here and there, Thrown down in cureless haate, Jm d tries to tliiuk how it would If nothing wore displaced; «. Xf the house wore tilivavs as still M this, llow could she bear the loneliness? Jim THEIR MOT. V*' MrKftTAKOAUnOI ;• client of the btv firm with which X was connected in Lincoln, Neb., had died, worth nearly half a million dollars, to be held in trust until the heir or luairs could be discovered. I was anxious to find the heirs, not only for pecuniary motives, but because I was made deeply interested in them l>y the recital of a story which the cli- «nt, Marvin Grey, had told to me on the day of his death. His breath was almost spent when I stood by his bed- aide and listened attentively to catch the low sound of his voice as he whis pered the sad tale of an erring son whom Be had driven from his home in Eng land. He had sent him from his home •one dark night, twelve years before, be- •cause of his drunken habits, and he had never seen him since. He had heard from him but onee in all these long .years; then he was an officer aboard a ahip plying between Liverpool and New York. Though he had searched the world over he could get no trace of his son, and, finally, worn out by incessant grief and travelling, he had lain down to die in the far West among strangers, witli- out having accomplished the one great desire of his aching heart. As the death-<lew was gathering on Ills brow, he finished the story, and, with an indescribable look of agonv, *sked me to swear to take up the work "where he had left it, and devote my life, if need be. to the finding of his son, if living. I should receive $20,000 when lie was found. Young and romantic, my sympathies were fully aroused; so, with my hand elapsed in the nervous grasp of the dying man, I promised never to give up^ilie search ontil the lost one was found. Mr. Grey had made such disposition of his property that I could draw my travelling expenses; so I commenced tte important task the day after his un timely death. I took the cars at Lincoln, and was «oou in Crete, a small station in Cen tral Nebraska. Here I changed to the stage-coach bound for Hobler's ranche, fifteen miles to the north. As we were travelling along at a rate of speed for "which Western stage-coaches are re nowned, I tried to shape some, definite -course to pursue, and had almost de cided to retrace my journey to Lincoln «nd start for the Eastern States, when «nv thoughts were diverted from the subject by the sudden upsetting of the lumbering vehicle. We had been threading our way around the edge of » gulch, when the shying of one of the horses send the coach and contents into a heap at the bottom. I was conscious <*f falling, and then all was blank. When I recovered my consciousness I "xsaa in a pleasant though plainly fur nished room, through the door of"which I could see a pale-faced woman sewing near a table. At the same time she was aweetly humming a baby song and rock ing an old-lasliioned cradle with her foot. It was an interesting picture, and made me think of my own child- iood. with mother singing baby Nell to deep. I tried to think how I came to be there, and wondered if I had died and was in heaven. As my thoughts turned to myself I teed to rise, when an acute pain in my aide made me cry out in agony. Then thjjwweet face of the woman was over my pillow, and tender eyes looked pitv- *Bgty into mine as she asked me if f felt much pain. Her voice, so low and aweet, made me forget my suffering, and I asked where I was how I oame there. ^"Don*t you remember your falling •"to the gulch with the stage-coach yes- *terday?" she asked. '"Oh, now I remember," I replied. "I "was going to Hobler's ranche when we were all tipped intq that gulch and killed." "•No, not killed," she said, smiling at ®7 serious tone; "but sadlv bruised; aad Marvin brought you here for me to nurse back to life; for you were almost gone when he got you out of the wreck." I was going to ask who Marvin Was, bat she said I must not talk any more tin til the fever left me. The following week was a period of ^Vfeat suffering for me, but my faithful none did all that could be done to make my surroundings pleasant for my rational moments. I was conscious of the presence of a young man at my bed- aule, and knew that he was the "Mar vin" who had brought me from the gulch. Near the end of the second week after the accident the fever left me, and I be gan to recover. Up to that time I had oeen unable to converse except with great pain, but on this afternoon, when the fever was all out of my system, I could talk as well as usual. My recov ery was slow, and for many days I was compelled to keep to my" bed, but at last I was permitted to sit up, braced by pillows, in the big arm-chair. One day. while sitting thus, washing Mrs. Warde, my nurse, at her work, I " tasked how she and her husband came to eettle in such a wild country. She replied that it was a long story, and might tire me too much; but I assured her that it would not, so she paused for a moment, aud thep said: "When I promised to be Marvin's ferae he was a sailor, on shore for a short vacation. He was not rich, but we loved each other, and were full of hope tfwr the future. Marvin was to make -one more trip to Liverpool, and then return and make me his wife. We part ed, both vowing to remain true to our vows, week before mother was taken sick, oar only horse was stolen, and father his leg, so he could not work. I all day and far into the night, I could not earn bread enough for little brothers and sisters, and buy medicine that sick mother must In our hour of distress, my fath- employer, Mr. Ennot, hearing of need, sent the doctor for mother . for the children. I was grate- •fcls kindness, but when he asked i ence. He sWfgnfrttfe 'Fbr the sake of youivlillSr and «iok mother, Jennie, can you no' be my wife ?' I thought of Marvin away on the sea, and ray heart made me say no. Then came the news of a terrible storm at sea, and Marvin's ship was among those that had went down. Again Mr, Ennot renewed his offer. My father ar gued and commanded, but I could not forget Marvin's love. Mother did not say a word, but. when she looked into mv face, I knew she wanted me to yield for the children's sake. Though my heart should break I could not re fuse her mute appeal, so I gave over and promised to be his wife; but my heart was pn the sea. "The daY, appointed for the wedding came, and everything was ready; guests had been bidden, tables spread, musi cians engaged, and floors prepared for active feet. We were to be married at the church, then go for the grand feast to Mr. Ennot's house. I was sitting mournfully at the window of my little room all dressed and ready to go, when I saw my Marvin approaching. I could [ hardly believe my eyes till he said, 'I l have come back to save you, Jennie,' and as he took me from the window in his great strong arms, and pressed me to his breast, I forgot all the sorrow of the past, and laughed and cried for joy." Mrs. Warde stopped for a moment to brush away the tears that the memory of that meeting brought to her eyes, then contiuued: . "Marvin had l^eard in the village jS& low of the reported*loss of,his ship,,/fend of my approaching marriage, ajw had lost no time in coming to me. Gpce iu his presence I could not resist him, so away we went to the church, and, just as Mr. Ennot and his friends came, we were pronounced man and wife. "I can never forget the scene that fol lowed. Mr. Ennot stamped and swore, and tore his hair in his awful anger; then turning to Martin, as we were leaving the church, he raised his hand toward heaven and swore a fearful vow of eternal hatred for us both. I was badly frightened, but Marvin thought it only an idle threat, and soon forgot it. My parents would have nothing to do with me. and so we went to work in a large factory in a neighboring city. We were doing well till Mr. Ennot found us out and influenced our em ployer so that we were discharged. We then moved to a little town in a distant State, and had just got nicely settled when Mr. Ennot again found us out--so we lost that situation. We commenced in another and then another, but with the same result. Mr. Ennot was rich, add followed us from place to place, using his money in circulating stories that deprived us of work, and made hon est people turn from ust Oh, those were dark days for us!" shfe exclaimed, and again stopped to control her emo tion. I had found the tear* running down my own cheeks while listening to her low tones when she spoke of moving, then again the blood would fairly boil within my veins while she was telling of the persecutions they received from Ennot. But I was all attention when she continued: "We tried different factories in all parts of the country, but it was no 'use. The undying hate of that man followed us like a shadow, and for four years we were constantly moving from one town to another. At last we left the East, changed our name and settled here in the wild West, so far away from my dear old home and friends." At the mention of the old home, con vulsive sobs choked her utterance; and it was some time before she resumed her interesting story. "Under our new name, we were safe from discovery, and would have done very well if Marvin had been exper ienced iu ranch work, but he was not used to the country, and did not suc ceed as well as others have. Then baby was born, my health became poor, and I could not help longing for a look into my dear old mother's face. Marvin, too, who was driven from his father's house twelve years ago for dissipated habits, wished to hear from home again. He knew that if he could get back to England his father would forgive him when he saw that he had reformed. He wrote two letters last year, but, as he received no answer, he now thinks his father is dead, for Mr. Grey was old." "Grey?" I asked, interrupting het. "Yes. Marvin Grey, my husband's father," she replied wondering at my growing excitement. "Was it Marvin Grey of Highcliff Castle, Hampshire, England?" I ques tioned, hardly able to keep my seat. "The very same." "Then I have been searching for vour husband. Marvin Grey is dead," but before he died he forgave his son, and was searching for him, that he might tell him he was forgiven, and give Urn a father's blessing." Marvin came in from his work just in time to hear this of his father, and dropping on his knees beside his wife, who had born so much for his sake, he poured forth a fer vent prayer to the One who had guided and watched over them through all the long, dreary years of their wan derings. But little more remains to be told. They easily proved their identity, and received the property which belonged to them. And had you, kind reader, gone with them to that Eastern State, you might have witnessed a joyful meet ing, when the daughter, so longed for, returned to her aged parent's home, where they now reside, having no fears of molestation from Mr. Ennot, who choked to death during an encounter he had with the end of a rope in the hands of an infuriated people among whom he had been living, away on the Western border. SB##* Short of Copy. ' A country daily paper experienced a dearth of news, and feeling itself to be on an excellent footing with its readers, thus introduced the subject: ' "From a trustworthy source we learn --nothing for to-day. There has noth ing whatever happened in our dear old town, that we consider sufficiently im portant or interesting to lay before our readers. In the present state of the weather this will not matter very much, as instead of perusing two or three ft™* v,« ~Viari v. 1 columns of incredible accidents, offers But he had not been away a of marriage, or the course of politics in MOTHER WAA F.ALRM ^ . °. Uukovma, etc., etc., our esteemed sub scribers of either sex will prefer taking a walk to enjoy the fresh air, the fra grance of the flowers, and the singing of the birds. Should there, however, be one who has no taste for those things, we would recommend him to take down a volume of an encyclopsedia and read up the articles on hypochondria and liver complaint. With the return of the wet weather we hope to present to our • readers the usual supply highly sensational news." '4% -AND f] MKM-+XB HBUtfll' "»ART WAS TKUK.TO • IWl»n ' :;r V. C^st' llairtotitkto of New Twifc'iia. •tpalaill VfejbtgB' In HI* Own IntorMto-^ •«aa»* ««ar win* Ne»ny aioo.eeo-- Mo* la Blamed by Everybody. * [Washington special.] y - . President Cleveland never looked nore calm or more self-possessed than ho did thd afternoon of the 7th when a reporter called at the Executive Mansion. The President had finished luncheon and had just begun at lite desk when the reporter entered. Ho wore his conventional suit of black broad- j'oth. His appearance* indicated that ho had had a good night's rest. Ho gave a cordial greeting, smiling pleasantly, and in quired: "Well, what can I do for you?" The reporter briefly stated that the object of his errand was to learn the President's views of the result of the election. President Cleveland replied: "I dislike to see my name figuring in set Interviews in the daily press. I have no objections to answering a few questions, but I prefer that our talk should take the form of a brief, informal chat. "You desire to learn, you say, to what cause I attribute our loss of New York. I answer frankly that I do not know. I should say"--and the President laughed quietly--"that it was mainly because the other party had tne most votes. Your re mark when you first entered the room in dicates that you regard me its indifferent to the result. I am not indifferent. I look upon the situation from a practical and oommon-sense standpoint. It is not a per sonal matter. It is not proper to ^apeak of it either as my victory or as my defeat. It was a con test between two great parties battling tor tho supremacy of certain well-defined prin ciples. One party has won and the other has lost--that is all there is to it." "Do you think, Mr. President, that Gov. Hill acted in good faith toward you?" The President laid down the bundle of papers he had been holding in his hand, and with more earnestness than ho had pre viously displayed said: "I have not the slightest doubt of Gov. Hill's absolute good faith and honesty in the canvass. Nothing has over occurred to in terrupt our kindly relations since we ran on the tioket together as Governor and Lieu tenant Governor." "I would like to inquire, Mr. President, how Mrs. Cleveland boars your defeat?" "O! she feels about it just as I do. You know the defeat brings its compensations. We shall now have some time to ourselves and can live more as other folks «lo." "Shall you continue your residence at Oak View or return to Buffalo?" asked the re porter. "I haven't given that subject a thought, nor shall I for the present. There is no hurry about it. My future movements are as yet wholly unsettled." KKIFICD -BY HILL,. How Cleveland Was Defeated--The Chief Magistrate of New York Manipulate* Things in His Own Interests. [New York telegram.] The jeremiads are being sung to day. One is tho wail of the mug wump. and tho other is the requiem over the blasted prospects of Governor David Bennett Hill. The political career of his Excellency is without doubt wound up. He organized this State for himself, without paying any attention to Cleveland. All tho liquor men and the disreputable members of society generally wore for Hill, as he has vetoed the high license bills both years they were passed by the Republican Legislature. A11 through tho State where his friends are the strongest he ran ahead of Cleveland. Where Cleveland Democracy is strongest he suffered but slightly, and not in proportion to the number of mug wump votes found in these localities. In his own county Hill ran 520 votes ahead of Cleveland. In Erie County, where Cleve land used to live, but where now Governor Hill's friends Jiave charge of tho Demo cratic organization. Cleveland was defeated by over 2,000, while Hill had almost 5,000 plurality, a difference of about 7,000. In Rensselaer County, where Cleveland <ms defeated by 374. Hill had 790 plurality. This is the. county where Chairman Edward Murphy, of the Democratic State Committee, lives, and is the local leader. In Mon roe County, where Governor's Hill's friend, Secretary of State Cook, lives and controls the German vote, Cleveland was deifeated by almost 5,000. and Hill ran ahead of Cleve land more than 2,000 votes. Rochester is in this county. In Onondaga County, where Hill has many friends in the Democratic organization, he ran 1,200 votes ahead of Cleveland. Syracuse is in this county, and Hill's friends control the city organization there. In Oneida County Hill ran over 800 votes ahead of Cleveland. David Disbor was the State committeeman from this county until he was put off the committco by tho Cleveland men on account of his dis reputable character. Ho is an ex-gambler and a friend of the Governor. In New York the liquor men had a Hill organization of their own, and made enough difference in the vote to elect Hill without any gains throughout the State. They were encouraged in their purpose by the State Committee. On election night, when the returns from all over the State told that Cleveland was defeated and that Hill was elected, the State Committee held a jubila tion meeting. They were making so much noise about it that the crowd around the hotel took it up. and the news spread through the town. Senator Gorman came down from the National Committee to the Hoffman House and told the State Commit tee that they might at least have the de cency to conceal their joy. . After this tbjiy subsided for a while. The results of the vote in this city, as re vised and announced semi-officially to-day, enable one by a simple arithmetical calcula tion to determine within a few hundred of the number of mugwumps in this town. Cleveland's plurality was 57,213, Hill's was 68,353, Jones' was 73,290. The mugwumps supported Cleveland and Jones; they op posed HilL Jones was the Democratic candidate for Lieutenant Governor, and his name was on the same ticket with Gov. Hill's, the two names making up the State ticket. Tho various mugwump neVspapers and the first meetings that opposed Hill urged on the mugwumps the necessity of voting against Hill, and, at the same time, of voting for tho other man on the same ticket, that they might emphasize in this easy way the immense number of votsre who were opposed to Hill. THE LOSERS AND WINNERS. A Boston RRMMMT' • SEGAMINS Hold-Over HiyaUkmi In Fedetml To A ouriea ̂fwediction : was made at the Custom-hoaM in Boston bjr prominent reg^rdiiyj the^golic ̂of hold-over ofl!< tho victora tn dftiributing tfie spoils. This nstftan poalttvely asserted that the first of the pwiaBt emptoyes of the Custom house whi> wUl be ask^ed to take a walk next frf*0* ¥*« Republioans who were re- tjfued by the^BetnocratiC administration. The outS otaMi that these undisturbed officials saerifleed all right and title to farther consideration by their party in consenting tO'fftmain in office under the Cl&Velaad fSktme. They also argue that many of the field-overs, have fad quite long ex>ough at ̂ h« public arib» aa4 should ba willing tpglye way to those , who helped the party babk to powor. The mugwumps who have found thoir way into Govern ment positionawill of course be merciless ly beheaded, and so will the Demoorats. There will be,"a new deal all around. "Be cause Cleveland has been a fool." Concluded the oSleiali< "te <no reason why Harrison should be one." - EVERYBODY BLAMING BKICE. The Democratic Chttirman Being Heartily Abused--Hewitt's Defeat. Calvin 8. Brice. Chairman of tho Demo cratic National Campaign Committee, says a New York telegram of the 8th, is suffering all the vicissitudes of the vanquished. Bet ting men are denouncing him because he raised false hopes after ho knew the election was against him. The Democratic newspapers proclaim his incompetency in the management of Mr. Cleveland's cam paign. Bepubllean dailies call him Colonel Rainbowchaser Brice, and a man from Ohio says he is no colonel. , The overwhelming defeat of Abrajn S. Hewitt is now attributed to the venality of the County Democracy heelers. These heelers were evidently bought up by Tam many. On the afternoon of election day County Democracy heelers in Harlem tore down the pictures of Mayor Hewitt from their ballot booths and declared for Hugh Grant, Tammany's candidate. HOW THE WAGERS RESULTED, . Phibablj 1300,000 Changed Hands in Cin cinnati on the Election. The late campaign was characterized by a great deal of confidence on the part of both parties in Cincinnati, Ohio, and en thusiasts freely risked their money on tho result. It is not at all improbable that $200,- 000 changed hands on the result in bets ranging from $500 to $13,000. Among the heavy losers are Abraham Furst, $5,000; Labold Brothers, about $7,000; Ottie Arm- lader, $1,000; Simon Wolfstein, $400; Lew Kraft, $1,200; R. N. Fonton, $3,000; Albert and Sigmund Mayer. $1,800; George Hub- bell, $1,500; Henry Zieglor. $1,800; Robert Linn, $13,000. Th6 losses of William Finlaw and Mark Simonton are very heavy. Be tween them they probably lost $30,000. CABINET-MAKING. The Senator Quay Said to Have Made $90,M0 on Election Bets. In all at least $500,000 was wagered in tho hotels in the neighborhood of Madison Square during the campaign, says a New York dispatch of the 7th inst. Most of tho money is yet in tho hands of the stake holders. "Billy" Edwards surrendered about $30,000 to bettors on Harrison to-day. Tho big bettors during the campaign were Matthew 8. Quay, Hamilton Disston, and John L. Hill, of Philadelphia; "Jim" Ma- honey, William L. HCott, of the Democratic Campaign Committee; Edward 8. Stokes, John and "Phil" Daly, and ex-Senator Jones, of Nevada. Tho biggest winner on Harrison is Chairman Quay. Ho was a member of a syndicate of Phila delphia who. formed a "pool" of about $250,000, to which ho contributed $80,000. Tho money was bet here and in Philadelphia by H. L. Swords, sergeant-at- arms of the Republican National Commit tee, and John L. HilL Good odds were ob tained and Mr. Quay is estimated to have made about $90,000. Ex-Congressman John J. Adams has won about $10,000. Edward 8. Stokes made most of his bets on the elec tion of Hugh J. Grant to the mayoralty, and would have made about $18,000 but for the fact that on Tuesday night, when Republi cans were becoming offensive in their dem onstrations, he was moved to bet $10,000 that Mr. Cleveland was elected. The loss of this diminishes his winings to $8,000. Ex- Gov. Hausor of Montana loses about, $20,000. The biggest loser is "Jim" Mahoney. He went into tho betting as a pure speculation. His confidence has cost him about $40,000 at the lowest estimate. Subway Commissioner Daniel L. Gibbons has lost several thou sand. H. W. Walker has sent $1,000 in the same direction. Congressman William L, Scott has lost a very large sum of money, but its amount cannot bo estimated, as it was spread in many places. John Daly has parted with $30,000. James E. Kelty, a bookmaker, is a winner of about $60,000, it is reported. Col. W. L. Brown is a heavy loser, and George Bowman loses about $90.- 000, a part of which goes to a Maine syndi cate of which Joe Manley is a member. There were men around the Hoffman House to-day Btrong enough in political sentiment to bet largo sums of money that Cleveland had been elected. One of them, of I Joseph Rickey, of Missonrl, offered bets J^&reoly. _Notwithstanding the confidence of lot of Benublicans- that their amdldate list that Seems to Heet. with Gen eral Approval. 1 There is already a good deal of Cabinet- making by the politicians, and the following is a list which seems to meet with general approval among Republicans: Secretary of State, John Sherman: Secretary of the Treasury, William B. Allison; Secretary of War, Russell A. Algor; Secretary of tho Navy, William P. Frye; Secretary of the In terior, Warner Miller; Postmaster General, John Wanamaker; Attorney Genoral, Judge Thomas Settle, of North Carolina. At the last Congress a bill was passed raising the Commissioner of Agriculture to a member of tho Cabinet, and th4e President will have an additional adviser, who will probably be some Western man/as it is tho purpose to place the Bureau of Public Lands under the new department. ANNA DICKINSON HEARD FROM. She Brings Salt to Recover 91,350 from the Republican Committee. Anna E. Dickinson, tho lecturer and act ress. has begun suk in the Supreme Court of New York against the Republican Na tional Committee to recover $1,250 for services rendered during the campaign. She oiling She Was engaged in September to d^liver-thirty lectures in tho West, and was to receive $125 for each lecture and her expenses. Sh* bas roceived tho $3,750, but claims it was also agreed that in the event of Harrison's election she was to receive $5,001)1 The complaint has been served on Senator Quay and his fellow-committee- men. . ._ THE MONEY 'SIDE. ftUlllons of Dollars Expended by the Cam paign Committees. The Campaign that has closed has cost an immense amount of money, more than twice as much as any previous one. Tho exact amount is difficult to estimate, but each of tho national committees raised and spent more than $1,000,(XX), and each of tho New York State Committees $1,000,000 more. Tho Democrats sent out 16,000,000 docu ments from their headquarters in New York City, which does not include those mailed to their constituents by Congressmen, and tho Republicans must haye handled as .many more. The printing bills of either commit tee must have amounted to hundreds of thousands of dollars. Breached of Etiquette. It is. a breach of etiquette to stare round the room when you are making a call.' r To remove the gloves when making a formal call. To open the piano or to touch it if found open when waiting for your host ess to enter. To go to the room of an invalid with out an invitation. ° To walk about the room examining its appointment when waiting for your hostess. To open or shut a door,raise or lower a curtain, or in any way alter the ar rangement of a room in the house at which you are a caller. r To turn your chair so as to bring yoar back to some one seated near you. To remain after you have discovered that your host or hostess is dressed to go out. To fidget with hat, cane, or a parasol during a call. To preface your departure by re marking, "Now I qiust go," or to in sinuate that your hoistess may bo weary of you. To resume your seat after having once risen to say adieu. 1 • For a lady receiving several callers to engage in a tete-a-tete conversation with one. To call upon ^ friend in reduced cir cumstances with any parade of wealth in equipage or dress. ---- M*' Buzz Saws. . , Envy has a good memoir..^ % '•% The lucky man can laugh at envy- The early bird often flies over the worm. The jovial clerk often becomes a Surly boss; * Success demands a large apprentice ship fee. ' We are apt to underestimate what is beyond us. ' , The most pleasant men seldom keep their promises. Confidence is a great thing eve^«4o the incompetent. A man can't hang a curtain before his own conscience. It is not how much we can lift bat how much we can carry home. That a man fails in business doesn't prove that he had a bad stand. The man who is willing to tako what ever is offered is seldom satisfied. MANTLE lambrequins of heavy crimson plush are decorated with thick fancy cord embroideries in rieh brown shades. DirriDKXCK is, perhaps, quite as often the child of vanity as of ae!f- depreciation.--Julia C. X. Dorr. MX tOi HEAJBT OW OREGON. Where Apples Weighing Two Ponnds Are C<>mmoa--Mineral Wealth, Hi Falling Crops, Via* Water Privileges, sad a Climate Without Extremes. ASHLAND, Ore., Nor. 6,1888. The heart ot Southwestern Oregon to the Rogue River Valley, the isolation of which is now happily ended by the build ing of two railrmds--the Oregon and Cal ifornia from Portland, and th6 Southern Pacific from San Francisco -- the two forming a junction at this place. This section of Oregon has been settled some thirty years, the first comers being atracied by the finding of gold, the min ing of which is still carried on to some extent. The mineral wealth of this section is not, however, confined to gold, as good indications of coal in paying quantities have been recently discovered; also, cop per, iron, lead, and cinnabar--all of which only await development to become the source of wealth. Of late yearB, however, the growing of stock, cereals, vegetables, and, particu larly, fruit of all kinds, is proving fat more remunerative than mining. Such a thing as a failure in crops of wheat, bar ley, oats, and corn is unknown--wheat often yielding forty bushels per acre; and, while corn does not grow to the pro portions attained in Nebraska and Iowa, this is the only portion of Oregon in which it is raised with fair success. The agricultural capabilities'of this valley, however, have been recently tested in many ways, and it is proven that 6weet potatoes of fine quality, melons of unsur passed sweetness and size (often weighing fifty pounds), and all the vegetables com mon to the tempdrate zone can here be raised to perfection; but the crowning su periority of this valley, as has been fully proven the past three years, is its peculia: adaptation to the profitable growing of fruit. Here, the peach, apple, plum, prune, pear, nectarine, cherry, and all small fruits and berries grow to propor tions and in quality not excelled, if equaled, on this continent. Apples weigh ing one and one-half pounds each are ASHLAND HOTEL. very common, and occasionally specimens may be found weighing over two pounds each; peaches weighing one-half pound each are very common, and specimens are often found weighing twelve ounces. Apples will sometimes hang on the trees halt the winter, and keep in good con dition, and their keeping qualities are re markable, and San Francisco is already making demands for more than can be supplied. Peach trees have been known to bear fruit one and one-half years from the seed, and the short time in which all fruit trees bear fruit from the seed is re-, markable. i ^ The profit to be realized from rHrit culture m this valley has been fully dem onstrated during the past two years, there having been instances fully substantiated of a gross return from one acre in peaches, four years from the seed, of $250; while the profits from apple orchards fully grown will range from $500 to $1,000 per acre. Fruit trees and fruit are comparatively free from insect pests of all kinds, and I do believe this valley must certainly attain celebrity as a fruit region. A large area of the Northwest must look to it for a sup ply; indeed, California is already making demands for apples, and a car load of pears is just now being shipped to Sacra mento packed in boxes carrying a Califor nia brand. Canneries and evaporators are necessities of the near fnture, from which good profits must be realized. So far as all grain crops are concerned, irrigation is not at all necessary, the rain fall being sufficient, averaging about 22 inches annually. The climate of this section is another strong point in its favor. It has neither the wet of the Willamette on the north nor the drouth of the Sacramento Valley on the south, but seems to be the happy medium so seldom found, and enjoys the warmth of summer and the frosts of win ter without any extreme in either. One characteristic at all seasons is the remark able evenness of temperature. Often for a month at a time observations tnken at the same hour day after day will show scarcely a degree of variation. The ab sence of wind is notable, and such a thing as a gale or a cyclone is unknown. The mountains cut off the fogs from the ocean, which lies one hundred miles to the west. It certainly has one of the finest "all-the- year" climates to be found on the globe, and as to health this valley has no peer on the continent. Ashland is 341 miles south of Portland, and 415 miles north of San Francisco. Mountains are near by on every side--in fact, you can't get away from fine scenery anywhere in this section. Ashland is the chief town in tho tiogue Eiver Valley, and has a population of about 2,500, and is 2,000 feet above sea level. It has fine water privileges, a stream rising in the snow-capped peaks furnishing power for a fine woolen mill, a roller flouring mill, two planing mills, and ono saw mill, be side one mill site not now used. Well- water of good quality is obtained at easy depths, and mineral springs of many varieties abound, principally, however, of iron, soda and sulphur. Tho railroad has just completed a fine eating-house and hotel at a cost of about $35,000, besides building a round-house. As this town has been made the end of a divisftm, prospects for machine shops in the near future are flattering. The new year will greet the completion of a fine brick hotel, now in process of construction, of which the accompanying cut \&ill give a fair idea, and it will be one of the finest to be found in any town of its size on this coast. There are two news papers published in the place, the Tidings and the Rtcord, with schools, churches, and an excellent class of citizens. There are more evidences of growth and activity here at this time than in any other town in Oregon, and we have no doubt the popu lation will double within the next two years. Mistook Cabbage for Sawdust. A countryman stepped into a. Saoo cigar store one morning and stood watching one of the workmen roll up tho bunches.. Tho filling of a scrap cigar is light in color and very fine, and as the workman took up a handful to put t in the binder the countryman gasped, "Lord, do you make cigars out of sawdust ?" BOKHARA, after successively fbrming part of the empires of Persia, of Alex ander and Bactriana, was conquered by the Turks in the sixth century, by the Chinese in the seventh, and by tho Arabs about 705. After various changes it was subdued by the Uzbek Tartars, its present possessors, about 1505. ALTHOUGH skeletons are dead things they sometimes stalk suddenly out of closets in the presence of strangers, to the great consternation of the families that own them. SIXTEEN THOUSAND persons perished aSac*s«*i»«»gbt alter ia by fkmine at Gape Ve.de in 1776. Most persons, become The "DraWer" Jaystr a soasn of an tive but not pnmarfy an Original who was always a most entertain ing companion on account of hds infor mation, upon which he drew Modestly, and without boring anybody, .Whomever it was needed. And having the habit, he kept himself filled up ^y reading and observation. The society*jot a man of ,this sort never palls, if, of course, he has been well enough brought up to be personally agreeable. While it is not possible to prescribe a rule by following which girls may become entertaining and always desired members of society, it is safe to say that a person will never be interesting unless she is interested. To be interested in something outside of one's self is a necessity of the situa tion. That always with any companion makes a point of interest. There has been a growing complaint this season--• and it is one of many season's standing' --of the scarcity of young meA at the resorts, ami it h^s also been hinted that the young \men who did appear were uninteresting. This is the fault of the young men, for the young women have been as attractive as ever. But it must be kept in mind that however devoid of entertaining qualities men may be at a certain age, from lack of experience and of any actual taking hold of life| (or from the idea that they knew it/all), they will soon plunge into work, either business or a profession, that will in£^ r^ est them, teach them a knowledge of human nature and of affairs, and then they will become, in one degree and another, interesting persons. Where will the young women be t^en who have been content to rely upon\ the charms of youth and beauty, and have culti vated no interest in anything beyond the more or less artificialities of being agreeable in a conyentional society? No partnership goes well unless all the parties contribute something to it. Marriage is no exception to this, as a great many people have discovered, even those who do not accept the cynifft definition that marriage is intended fo# discipline. Love being, of course, the attraction in marriage, good comrader ship is the working capital, and goad comradeship between uninteresting peo ple is an impossibility, unless each is too stupid to find out what the other lacks. This goes upon the assumption--per haps it is a strained one in these days-- that getting married ought to be an ob ject to be considered in preparation for life. But the argument for a girl to make herself interesting by gaining in formation and by throwing herself en thusiastically into some sort of pursuit is still stronger if she intended to ret main single, or remain so by chance. For to be destined to one's own com pany when one is uninteresting and de- Void of external interests is a dreary outlook. On the other hand, it is feared tt'modern education will be pushed so and girls will become so interesting, t they can find no equal mates? ere sometimes seems to be this dan ger. But it can at worst only be tem porary. Boys are very quick to "catch on" (it is their own phrase) to a new idea, and whatever course girls take, they are reasonably certain to draw all men after them. The world has been so arranged.--Charles Dudley Warner, m Harper's Magazene. • . -- • " The Merry Jap. Our own faithful cook is cotf^iitiSnSI and commonplace beside the tea-house staff, and being used to her we see no vagaries or amusing things in her con duct, but appeal to lier explanations and translations of the farcical scenes around us. Twin stars in the troupe are two smaM boys, one 12 and the other 15 years of age. Kamekige is the 15- year-older, a plump, sturdy, country boy, with a broad, full-moon face, twink ling little eyes, a double row of sound, white teeth, two dimples, and the mer riest, heartiest, most infectious laugh I ever heard. Kamekige is a long name to remember and have at hand, and after some candle-light hours devoted to making the boy cheer us with his de lightful laughter we found another name for him. In Japan and in China it is quite etiquette to ask one's age after the other preliminaries of an ac quaintance are gone through with. Kamekige asked my friend's age, and she answered, "75!" and away went Kamekige into peals of laughter, and my score of 101 years brought him down to'the mats in his spasm of laughter. "What is your age?" we asked, and the rocking youngster, between his peals of cherry laughter, managed to say, "Go, ju" (50). After that Kame kige was shortened to Goju, and he an swers readily to the name. The other small boy is a lithe monkey, with a face as typical and spirited in its Japanese way, much like Ricliter's Neapolitan fisher boy, so beloved by ivory and porcelain and miniature painters. His costume is a strangely assorted one, al though bathing trunks of trousers and a vest like a bib, covering only the front, have to be taken very seriously to be called a costume at all. This vest or sleeveless, backless jacket, is held on by two crossed strips over the shoulders, and the X lines suggested that letter as a name for this unknown quantity. The youngest is sharp and quick-witted, and in some way has made it out that the English of "small boy" means him, and one day, to our astonishment, he marched up, and, putting one finger on his nose --the ancient Japanese way of pointing to and indicating the first personal pro noun--said: " Watashi (I) smawl boy-a." t After that small boy was enough for an appellation, and the interminable sylla bles following the initial Jokichi of his name were never referred to.--Kera letter, in Globe-Democrat. A New German Industry* : ' At Halle the skeleton-like, fibrous covering of a species of tropical cucum ber is now being converted into a substi tute for sponge, and is already being exported into immense quantities to England and other countries. The curious substance is known as loofah. It is not only valuable as an adjunct of the bath, but is found useful for making inside soles for shoes, and is being ap plied to the under side of saddles to keep the < horses back cool.--Avkan- saio Traveler. THE Manufacturing Jeweler says ivory ornaments are quickly cleaned by brushing them with a new, not very sharp, tooth brush, to which little soap is given; then rinse the ornament in lukewarm water. Next dry the trinket and brush a little, and continue brush ing until the lustre reappears, which can be increased by pouring a little al cohol upon the brush and applying it to the trinket. Should this have be come yellow, dry it in a gentle heat and it will appear as if new. THE German cruiser Grief is the fast est armored war-ship in the world. She steams twenty-three knots snhMK is the merchant's salvation. Globe. Atchison FAMILIARITY has *ever bred mgu& contempt for the basiiiemendof a mm --Detroit Free Prw$. THE song of the girt and the kerosene can--"Oil away, aSl a«*y fo the pram* ised land."-^POft<UV«. "YOUNG man, strike oat," says the Bev. Dr. T. De Witt .. Young man, don't you do it; knoek a. throe- bagger.--Life. IT is a powerful hard thing for a wo man to weal* sji button kids when her , husband wears a &eyen-button pocket-, book.--Buriletjle. x Two WOMEN were detected in N< York smuggling tobacco in their bus Why should not a woman haVe a bacco bustle as well as a Dustle to Her ?--Boston Bulletin. « An eminent theologian, who oughi know if anybody does, says the an never laugh. Then the angels n saw a woman trying to saw a stic oordwood, that's M.~Burdette. SCIENTISTS say that the onl; used as food from the min. is common salt. In th&t Hwe like/to know the kingdom sider cheap sugar belongs to.--Pw;k, » only ai leralkint FATHER hi rm a idn't I see Mr. &lim | d you last evening? | f , y w ^ sirfyou didn't. I e hagA the curtuns pulled down and ^ Bhnt.i-Ji'mhington Critic. BABV was trying to dress herself. ^ "What are you trying to do there, little I one ? Doesn't baby see that she's put- >; ting her stockings on wrong side out?" I "Yes, that's coz there's a hole on t'other % side."--Judge. ^ DUDEKIX (who had just put on a new - suit of clothes in the shop)--Wait a minute, I'll go over to the bank and get f a check cashed. Tailor (going out with ^ him)--Well, 111 follow suit.--Wmh- i ingtonPoxt. f SCENE--teacher with reading class, s Boy (reading)--And she sailed down the river---- Teacher -- Why are % ships called she? Boy (alive to the,re- I sponsibilities of the sex)--Because they | heed men to manage them. S lFtthe women ever do become voters I there will be no trouble in knowing I where to find them. No female poli- | tician will be on both sides, of the fence % at once, as is the present custom with i so many horrid men.--Terre Haute Express. . BUFFERS--Yes, don't care if I do. Fact is, I quarreled with my wife this | evening, and am drinking to drown my I sorrows. You have had a similar ex perience, I suppose ? Blinks--Yes, but to-night we made up again, and I am ^ out celebrating it. -- Philadelphia $ Ilecord. $ SERVANT (to head of the house, din- ing luxuriously)--The grocer, sorr, an' the butcher an baker are outside, sorr, S an' sez as what they wants their money. S Head of the House (indignantly)--Tell £ them I'm at dinner and cannot be did- | turbed.--New York Sun. f HUSBAND (who has married for money) --My dear, I wish you would give me a little money thi3 morning. I really | haven't change in my pocket to get | down-town and back. Wife -- Why, ? certainly, my love, but do you think 1J ^ cents will be enough?--Epoch., | A rffcw fakir scheme is au advertise-* g .ment stating that the advertiser will | send to any one inclosing the sum of $t ^ the secret of perpetual life. Tbe 'fi "sucker" who sends the dollar receives | by return mail a neat card, on w Iw'oh - are printed the word* "Don't, die."-- New York Tribune. * ^ AMBITIOUS Young Musician (ef- | fusively)--I had thoughts and inspire- | tions of the old masters in me when I p composed that, Professor. Professor | (sarcastically)--So you had, Mr. Krib- f ber. Your 'composition' contains a little of Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, ^ Handel, B^ch,- and a score of other fa mous composers. By the way, what part of it is yours ? MRS. ST. JONES--What is it this time, Edwards? Edwards--Mrs. Kerr-Bris- tow's card, ma'am. Mrs. St. Jones - 1 Did she leave any message? Edwards --Yes, ma'am; she said as how she was always finding you out. < Mrs. St. Jones --I hope you replied graeefnlly, Ed wards? Edwards--Yes, ma'am; I said as how I wasn't aware that you'd done ' anything to be ashamed of, ma'am^; Time. Ll NEW Tenant (in a towering rage)-*- See here, sir, before renting that house for a year I asked you if any of the neighbors were musicians and you said they were not. Sir, that's the noisiest neighborhood I ever got into. Every house on the street has >«f)iano or cabi net organ, to say nothing of fiddles, • flutes, cornets, and banjos. Real Estate Agent (calmly)--My de%r, sir, none of your neighbors » are musicians. They only think they are. -- Philadelphia liecord. THE BRAVEST OF BATTLES. The bravest battle that ever wag fought. Shall I tell you where and when t On the maps of the world you'll find it uot; 'Twas fought by the mothers of lueti. . Nay, not with cannon or battle shot, With sword or nobler pen; • " Nay, not with eloquent word or thought . From mouth of wonderful men. But deep in a walled-up woman's heart-- Of woman that would not yield, - *, , But bravely, silently bore her part-- "Lo I there is the battlefield. Vf/ No marshaling troop, no bivouac No banner to gleam and wave I . But O, these battles! they last so Ifljjj..1 • From baby hood to the grave t --Joaquin Miller. ::A Where the French (Jot Their Trl-celond Flag. The Carnavalet Museum contains also abundant materials to enable us to traee the history of the flag of Paris, which has become the tri color flag of France. 'Tn brief, its history is this: When the !first French revolutionary leader, Etienne Marcel, roused his fellow-citi zens to claim their rights in the four teenth century, he adopted the colon red and blue because they were the col ors of the old Parloir aux Bourgeois or Hotel de Ville, which was the seat of the municipality and the center of the revolution. In 1789 the Parisians fol lowed the example of Etienne Marcel, and the Parisian cockade which Mayor Bailly presented to Louis* XYI. when the King returned to Paris on July 17, after the fall of the Bastile, was blue and red. The King fixed it on the large* white cockade which he wore on his royal hat, and thus formed a tri-color cockade. Lafayette, prompt to seise the political union which this chance juxtaposition seemed to symbolize, in duced the Commune of Paris to accept this addition of white to the red and blue, and in 1790 the National Assembly ordered that the old white flag of France should be replaced by a flag reproduc ing in vertical bands the red, white, and blue of the national «cockade.--Thn* dore Child, in Harper's Magazine. iTKMPp kMt-. -1' <4 •». L.,\ - A" 4 i*..£