'^S _ ?* .. '•**-*•»<txl**-1llll|»'!<!>«».• &"*... >*>' iS5 - «* - 'J . * TP" T« 5 MS. •; ;• ^ 4 »*%' ,» " -.^ " ', « t x" •' : * ¥3 fc. THE KAI1) AND THK MACHKLOK. ! • :, t had •worn to be a bachelor, she had vmn to '•'::',l. v be-amad, i Wbr we both a*;i n»d in dotiUtiog what her matri- ' ' lnnnv jmid; •tetide*. 1 biul mf fcijli r aim». for science filled V my heart, Altd she (aid lie - young r.ffea.tona Tvcroftll wonnd '.!][••', upiniirt. • * to*c laughed at those v i^s 1:13a who say that " frfendtth?p ocum»t "|ir» w-s,v|Fwl*t man and kouwu, uu>«a« each has aonae-, thing also to n*va. f - " He would bo friem's. ami friettl.s a« true h e'er >• wmmnnnn'ma;!, V be a second I>avi,̂ an ! she Miss Jonathan; t̂e'd like wu-li other, thai was all. and quite ononph to say, Bow ju»t sh»K>k h'aad* ;;;*>» it la a business •sort of wav. We shaml our sorrows aui oar joys, together ; .- » hoped and f<>ared, With pjimuon ;ir,ri>>-»> sought the gold whioh * young amlia. a roanwt. We dreauird to£i»thCT of the days. the. dream bright dav« to COCM. *«*» strictiv confidential. and called each OS1M>T "chum ;* Jtitd many a day TO wandered together o'er the X. ; .; hiiis-- v ? X?.aM*kin& a»ts and butterflies, and she the rnisiAt imlSa v Afei rattv iTiii^s and tb« like, which picture- i nwtior* jpn;«. up my heaA to reconnoiter. At the same time Bill's head appeared above the pack-saddle, not more than twenty I yards distant. We fired at about the same time. Dirt flew in my face, while my shot splintered Bill's pack-saddle breastwork. Then we both lay low for a few minutes. neither daring to show his head. We both came np about the same time, and more splinters and dirt flew. "I began to feel a little leery, so lay low until I thought Bill was on the watch. Then I put my hat on a stick and slowly raised it over the ledge. Bang! bang! bang! came from Bill's re volver, and the liat fell over behind me. I knew his pistol was empty then, so I jumped up and commenced pouring lead over his way, dropping and reload ing as soon as my pistol was empty. I didn't hear anything from Bill for some time, so I raised my bat again, but no shots came. Then I peeped up, but v,-lsm could only see the pack-saddla I didn't in with ;insir waterfalls, and groves and j dare to get up to see how the fight was W* powu the river, or aat beneath this heard Bill call 'Bob! oh, Bob!" Jbkttliwin)^ irndation. from the roeta! "^answered, and he inquired u> the moathf*. WWsi# :b»- sucswer akfca and bk-'cigar burped *k»«tly oat together. ' v "• : through i; mil no whi dtkmk irori ar Hft- <* «gh wfo anjci; oj waiBM* sentiment than tender talked tif love H coldly ai we talked at ae^nl*., Ifci tboapht tin more o! being one than we did .. ' o( tmnp threa.". tWtfl. cJd feOow.*--1 took her hand, • foi thf time had c-oaie to go, Mj" uv«m! our j>arUug, when, to meet we did not krs.-w X llnd ioi-.c &nd said farewell with a very • iwwiTy heart, Jraf t biTost we were bat friends., you know, *tia haa\i for friends to part; *W«iI ^Mtxi-bye. old fellow, don't forget your friends across tbe sea. And ton» ii»v, •» hen you re lota of time, juat drop a line to me." words c»uue lightly, gayly, but a great aob jest behind Ba*e i:p with a story of q-jitea different kind. Aad 1 ben she raised her eyes to mifie, great ii^rnia eres of blue. roll to the brim and running o'er, like violet <-ups of dew: Ion -. long look, and then 1 did what I never did l^efore. ftcWi lb* t«ir meant friendship, but I think the kiss meant more.** ' > -vms. mm'. A QUEER NAME. *Totf want to know how I got the name of 'Ballet-Nosed Bob,' do you?" said Robert Clark, the famous Arizona prospector. '"A ball from the six- shooter of the l>est friend I ever had cut that little crease across the bridge of my nose, spoi.ed my beauty and gave me my name--but mv friend meant to kill. I was christen eJ in Arizona, of course, where a man get* everything from the cholera infantum to a hemp necktie. "During the mining excitement in Pinal County, I met Bill Briggs, a joung cowboy, who, like myself, was looking for a fortune. He was a goad- aatnred voung fellow and dead game, «o we immediately formed a copartner- ship; that is, the name blanlcets covered H - ^ both of us; we chewed off the same L " Mi °' tobacco, and alwavs plaved 'in i W I * T» Ml" t 1 1/ J s ̂ [ Wttci panics. JJIII uau a f " | 3»<»e like a big red banana, while my i nasal organ was built oa the lie man plan, with the blade of a hatchet for a pattern. He was known as 'Bed-Nose Bill,' while I received tlie sobriquet of 'Uoman-Nosed Bob.' "One morning, after making a good 'winning in a poker game, we decided to e an outfit and go off on a pros- ting trip for a couple of weeks. We boi^ht our frying-pan, coffee-pot, and of flour, and laid in a good supply led 'coon hams and whisky, all of which, with our tools, we packed on Bill's little burro, General Santa Anna. The appearance of San tie, as Bill called ium, certainly justified the popular be lief that he came to America with the iv Cortez expedition. He had, in a cen- tury or more of service, worn ail the hair off him, excepting on his legs and ears, where it hnug in shaggy profusion. He would eat anything, from a pair of overalls to splinters from a pack-saddle, and t?avel all day under the #hade of one bunch of cactus. He would balk oftener and more successfully than any burro in the territories. Notwithstand ing these little idiosvncracies there wasn't enough money iu Arizona to tempt Bill to part with him. "For six days we ledded along over the burning sand s and rocky hills, pros pecting here and there. When Santie got tired he would lay down and Bill would tit and v ait for him to get ready to move on, instead of building a fire under him to move him, all the while commenting enthusiastically on the un impeachable evidence of Santie's intelli gence. When the burro would lay down And roll backward and forward over his pack Bill knew that Santie wastiredand wanted to stop for the <luv, and we al ways camped then and there, for no amount of reasoning would shake Bill's confidence in hi# interpretation of the burro language. "One day, when about eighty miles from the nearest town, in rounding a sharp bluff on a narrow trail, the burro forgot to calculate upon the size of his paek, and when It struck the projecting .rocks over the trail donkey, pack and all rolled to the bottom of 'the hill. \Ve •were compelled to make a circuit of about a mile to reach the point where he landed. We found him at the foot of the bluff, near a little spring, makiDg a meal off a bunch of green willows. Bill's enthusiasm knew no l>onnds. He was •wild over this last display of intelli gence, f^r he declared that what he mis took for asinine stupidity was the result of careful and deliberate calculation on the part of Santie, who knew that this "wa» the only decent camping place f within a, radius of one thousand miles, and took the most direct route to it. '"We established Our camp by unpack ing what was left of our flour, for Santie in his descent had mixed the greater part of it with the whisky, and had painted the bluff up like a chalk bank. We had ju&t enough left,to make a little bread, and while Bill built afire I set to , -work mixing up dough. I got a nice little flat cake paddled out ready to bake, "when I went to the spring to wash my hands, leaving Bill to drag down some ; -dried limbs for our camp-fire. When we returned we found Santie licking the last fragment of dough out of the fry ing-pan. Bill, as usual, was delighted to think that the" jackass Was smart enough to get his dinner while we had 'How are things going with you?' [ " 'Just middling,' I aMW««*i*> "A≺ 1 do you size up ?' ; I ' * ' * 'Only tolerable,* ^* "There were several more nnhutes of silence, during which neither of us showed our heads. 'Say, Bob!' came from behind the' pack-saddle. , § . ' "/What?' / .. >f ;:S; " 'Let 's declare the scrap a draw/ " 'All right!' I responded, " 'Let's hold our pistols up by the muzzles in our left hands, count three and throw them out between us.' " 'All right; here's mine,' I said, hold ing it up. Up went his too. » " 'All ready! One! Two! Three!' we counted together, but both of us waited to see if the other was going to throw his pistol out, and neither was thrown. " .'Do you think I'm a liar, Bob?' * 'Can't you take my word, Bill?' ""Course I can. But why didn't you drop your gun ? Do you take me for a lmshwacker?' "'No; but why didn't YOU drop yours ?" " 'Well, here goes,' said he. 'This is straight business this time.* "'Beady!' One! Two! Three!'we counted, and both revolvers landed on neutral territory. "I got up, but Bill didn't. I walked over and asked him if he had met with an accident. " 'Left wing broke. Hello! I reached you!' he added as he saw the blood running down my face from my broken nose. 'Guess we're about even. Shake!' We shook hands and then set to work patching ourselves up. I whittled out some splints and bound his ?eft arm with strips of buckskin cut from my breeches. We then made a meal of dried coon hams warmed up, with a little coffee to wash it down, and started for home, Bill riding Santie. We had a hard time getting back, having little to eat and less to drink, and then Bill got feverish for want of proper treat ment, and I had to support him for miles at a time. "Finally we reached a little spring only about two miles from home. Bill was nodding, half asleep, while I was walking ahead leading Santie. Sud denly he stopped, and before I could divine his intentions lay down and rolled over Bill a couple of times, breaking his arm again. When I got the burro up Bill had fainted, but soon recovered consciousness. He pulled his ^ six-shooter and dropped Santie with a shot between the eyes. " 'He's too smart to live,'i was all Bill said. "He is 'One-Armed Bill' now, *ud I'm 'Bullet-Nosed Bob.'" Net to Be Outdone. When the recent charity ball, for the benefit of a local hospital, was held in the Auditorium, Chicago, the managers of the affair, fearing that the caterer en gaged would not be able properly to provide for all the guests, asked Mr. Bemis, proprietor of the Hotel Riche lieu, not far from the Auditorium, if he could not take care of the overflow. Mr. Bemis said he could, and would on the condition that he be allowed to turn over io the hospital every cent he re ceived from charity ball patrons. There could be but one response to such an offer, and the day after the ball Mr. Bemis gave the ̂ managers his check for $570. The regular caterer--whose name is not at hand--heard that Mr. Bemis had contributed (though he was not advised as to the amount), and, not to be out done, hurried to the physician in charge of the beneficiary hospital and thus un bosomed his desire: "Doctor, I don't want .to be behind these fellows in good will to your hospi tal, and want to know if a contribution from me will be accepted ?" "Certainly," you are very kind," said the pleased physico, "and we very much appreciate your generous intent." "Thought you would," said the com placent caterer. "We've got three or four dozen good cold quail left over from last night's provisions, and I'll be glad to send 'em right up for the pa tients to eat." What the doctor replied is not of record, but the caterer didn't send the quail.--St. Paul Pioneer Prems. Vi CAMP WITH WEN. «BAiVl. • ; HltMmpUcltj aud Knnnrano*. ^rant was always more at home • in camps than in courts; the simple soldier's life suited him better than the etiquette of Europe or even of Wash ington. Indeod the commander of all the armies Jived plainer than many of his subordinate*, ami I doubt if there was a headquarters, North or South, dufifig tlie war where less formality prevailed. When Judge Campbell, the Confederate oonimissiorter, came out from Richmond in the winter of 18(ii, he spent some little while with Grant at City Point, waitiusr for permission to proceed further, and expressed great astonishment at the simplicity he saw. It was far different, he said; from the ceremony that Lee maintained. Bat Grant never entirely Jlaid aside Ihe habits and tastes of bis early life; he was, indeed, never coarse or vulgar, but he remained a plain man to the end. His dress in camp wa* inconspicuous; his coat seldom butto..ed tip to the throat, and often unbrushed, even soiled. He rarely t arried a sword, even fin battle, and during many campaigns he wore a private sokiioi' overcoat. His tent was as plain as that of a cap tain : a little larger than those of his ? staff, because he sometimes wanted to invite important generals into it to dis cuss his plans, and there was a seond or inner division, for Mrs. Grant was much with him when the armies were not in motion; but there were few gen- ;eral officers in the army lodged so • 'plainly as the chief of them all. The mess was simple as everything else. All of his personal staff shared it with -him, and took their turns in catering for a month at a time. The table was a long one, for there were necessarily many visitors at the headquarters of the army. Grant did not sit at the head, for then he would have carved, but on the right of the caterer who presided for the while. The mess was well supplied with beef, canned vegetables, condensed milk, coffee, rice, etc., but the cooking c uld hardly be considered delicate. Iu camp we had soft bread, but on the march fell back on hardtack, like private soldiers. Chickens were supplied in the season, and a few other such dainties, but not regularly. At Christ mas and Thanksgiving some thoughtful patrio* of the North would send turkeys enough to go round; but I can't remem ber cranberries or mince pies. Grant was very fond of oysters, and the cater ers always gratified this taste whenever possible. But he had few preferences of this sort, and more dislikes than posi tive likings; mutton he never touched in the field. He was not in the least an epicure; what he relished best was some plain dish Delmonico never heard of. This peculiarity remained to the last. After all his experience of courts and dinner-tables abroad, he came back to his own house to the homely fare which he preferred. He disliked to sit long over his meals and hated to wait for the courses to be changed. In the last year of his life he would complain when the family were aloue if the delay yftts great or the seressony elaborate. There was never wine or spirits *>n his table in the field, nor was either ever offered at his headquarters in his pres ence. If any of his officers kept whisky it was in their own tents, and Grant neither saw it nor shared it. Breakfast was rarely earlier than 9 and often as late as> "I) o'clock, for Grant rose late whenevt • there was no need to nee early, and we always waited until he was ready to sit down. He hardly ever went to bed till 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning, snd therefore liked his pillow even if it was hard. He often used to say that he was an in dolent man, and 1 think lie was, naturally. His temperament was phleg matic, if not sluggish; certainly he was disinclined to exertion after he was 40 years of age. It was only wlieu spurred on by incentives that he be came so prompt and energetic. Then, of course, no one excelled him. He could outride any of his staff, go without food or sleep longer than the youngest; endure heat or cold, or rain, or fatigue, or exposure, apparently without ill effect, or any effect at all. Many a time on the march have I watched him sitting upright in his saddle, without a sign of being worn, after hours, yes, days and nights, cf weary riding. He never seemed to care to stop for drink or food, or hardly for rest. After the first day's fight at Shiloh he lay at first under a tree, but 'the rain was furious and he went into a t$eld hospital for shelter, and fell asleep with the surgeons operating around him.. .It. was fortunate that he was not hi'gh-stking or nervous. Yet he was not indifferent to human suffering. I have known him leave a hurdle-race because he did not wish to look on life unnecessarily risked, though, when there was need, he could witness slaughter, or order it, unmoved.--Pitts burgh Bulletin. heaven is to take, three times a day, the readings at various instruments, and to telegraph or telephone them tothe clerk of the weather in Vienna. For months his only chance of hearing a human Voice' ik through the telephone. And all this Peter Lechner is willing to do for $200 a year.--Argonaut. The Only Genuine Murderer. A man of extremq. ugliness--gaunt, hump-slioulderod and almost flesh less, called at the business oflice of a Chi cago dime museum and after many re pulse t succeeded iu obtaining au "inter view the manager. * ^ ^ "What do you want?" the manager asked. * *' "I ceme as a big opportunity," he Answered, "aft a big business invest ment. Some folks air so hoggish that ; they air* hfirt when they think that other people are makin' money, but I ain't one of that class, Notliin' give* me more pleasure than to know that othei' folks air doin' a handsome busi ness. So, therefore, I have come to exhibit myse.f in your show at the modest sum of fifty dollars per week. I am Sam Hudspeth." „ "I have never heard of you." * "Now. look her®, dm't joke " "I am not joking you. I have never heanl your name before. "Well, let that boas it may.* 1 am Sam Hudspeth and I want situation in your museum." "Not as a living skeleton, I hope." "Of courre not. I am the man who was recently tried for murder down iu Indiana--for the murder of Alderman Crenshaw and his wife. Now you want me, I reckon." "No, sir, I don't want you." "But I will go over to ad opposition house and ruin your business. There is a big demand for men who have been tried for murder and if you have any enterprise you cannot, heip but re cognize that fact. Come here a minute." He drew the manager to an opposite corner of the room. "I was not only tried for murder," he added, "but am guilty, f did kill the old fellow and his wife, killed the old man becanse I wanted to, and killed the old woman because I could not help myself. You needn't say that I am a' suspect, or make use of any soft terms--you may just come right out with a placard tacked up above my head and say that I am a murderer--The only genuine murderer now on exhibition in this country." The manager began to reflect. Mr. Hudspeth would surely be an attrao- tioh. "You ask a pretty big salary. Pretty steep, fifty dollars a week. We only give our fat woman ten. We get our dron-headed man for sixteen, and our tire-eater only receives twenty." . "Try me two weeks." "All right." - After several days of industrious ad vertising, Mr. Hudspeth took his place on the long table, under a placard printed in red. But nobody paid any particular attention to li,im until an old fellow rushed up and exclaimed: " W'v, helloa, Andy, what are you doin'here?" ' 'Hush Tour mouth!" the murderer whispered. "Now, come, Andy, what are you do- in'here?", "Do you know the man?" the man ager, who happened to be passing, asked of the visitor. "Of course I do. He is Andy Buck an' don't live fur from me." "He says that he is Hndspeth, the murderer;" "Why, Andy; what do you wanter come up here an* lie th%t way, you know me an' yon seed old Hudspeth killed." "Andy" was kicked down stairs.--Ar- kantaw Traveler. A Colored Man's Opinion. The old colored man who has charge of the ladies' entrance at the Biggs House has pessimistic views about wo men "suffragists who are staying there. Some one inquired for Miss Susan B. Authonv the other day and the old man shook his head doubtfully. ^Isn't she in," asked the st"angyr. •"Yaas, she's in," with an even more despairing shake. **Is she sick W ^No, nebber heard as how she was." "See here, Uncle, if she is in and not ®i®k why won't you send my card up to her?" Dasseut do it; an' ennvhow taint no use. she's in a meetin'." Well, when did this meeting begin and how long is it likely to last?" Deys no way ob tellin'. Sometimes dey las an hour, an' sometime i two, an' again dey holds over all day. Dis has been going on three hours now an' deys ' no sign of a stop. Taint no use , . tryin' \ to go hungry, but I grabbed a club and see women as have meetins an' talk, swore vengeance. When I started after ' To"day'8 Indian day an' when dey starts the burro Bill drew his six-shooter and fnn""' t--1:-- " ' ' .cocked it, with the remark that if I k' , . touched Santie there would be trouble. .As I thought he was just bluffing, I just kept on. and, finally getting the burro /<dQrnered, kndulted him down with a t^nmp over the ears. * "Bang! went Bill's revolver, and my * Boman nose was transformed into this ° .Celtic ultra retrousse. I fell, stunned - by- the •ball, but recovered almost im mediately. When I droppted'I was pro to talkin abouten Indians taint no use distuhbin 'em. sah."--Washington Cor. Hew York Tribnne. Did Se.t Wtali to Spread the Disease. "Can you do anything with my if count to-day, Bir?" asked a collector. "Pd like to pay it," replied Gazzam, "but the fact1*®! I haven't any gold coin, and the doctors say that paper money carries the influenza microbe about. mediately. When 1 dropped I was pro- Can't be too careful, you knof, and I fcected from Bill s fire by a little ledge j wouldn't pay you with parer Aionev for »i#tol and pokgd] all tlw> world.-- Epoeh, ;r Ait 1 Carious Jealousy. Although jealousy is the most unrea sonable of passions, few persons fear the rivalry of creatures far beneath them in the scale of being. It would be possible, one would think, to be jealous of a man, but not of a donkey. Mr. T. A. Trollope writes: "We took one morning, a little excursion to Tus- culum, on which my wife rode a donkey belonging to a very competent guide. This man knew every point where it was desirable to draw rain in order to enjoy the lovely and varied views. The donkey, who, no doubt, knew all these halting places as well as his mas ter, once turned aside from the path, in a very business-like fashion, and planted himself before a gate from which a specially pleasing outlook" was to be seen. My wife, thinking to please the man, said: 'How well your donkey knows his business. He came of him self to this lovely view, just as if he en joyed it.' But the effect of her words <vas very startling. The man became suddenly and furiously angry. 'No, not he! I--I know how to make ladies and gentlemen see the views, and all that is to be seen! He!--he is an ass and knows nothing. I--I em the guide 1' he cried again and again, 'The beast is an ass, I tell you! He knows noth ing !' In short, he was furiouslv jeal ous of his donkey, and bitterly resented the compliments paid the beast's sa gacity as so much taken from his own praises." An Old Man's Solitary Life. An old man named Peter Lechner lives, year in and year out, in a round tower on the top of the Sonnblick Mountain in the Austrian Alps--the highest meteorogical station in Europe, and perhaps in the world. Throughout the long Alpine winter he sees no living soul, save for an hour ov t vo on Christ mas day, when a party cats its way to him from the 1 valley below laden with presents subscribed for in Vienna. Hia business in his eyrie between nerth --^ The Human The human family living on earth to? day oonsists of about 1,450,000,000 souls, not less, but probably more. T|iey are distributed all over the earth's surface, there being no considerable spot where man has not found a foot hold. In Asia, the supposed cradle of the human race, there are now about 800,000,000 of peoplo, densely crowded, on an average of 120 to every square mile. In Fiiirope there are 320,000,000, averaging 100 to each square mile, and not so crowded, but everywhere dense juid in many places over-populated, in Africa there are approximately, 210,- 000,000, and in the Americas, North, Central, and South, 110,000,000, and, of course, relatively thinly scattered. In the islands, large and small, there are probably 10,000,000. The extremes of the whites and blacks are as five to three; the remaining 700,000,000 inter mediate brown and tawny color. Of the entire race 500,000,000 are well clothed--that is, they wear garments of some kind to cover nakedness; 250,000,- 000 habitually go naked, and 700,000,- 000 only cover the middle parts of the body; 500,000,000 live in houses, 700,- 000.000 in huts and caves, and 250,000,- 000 virtually have no place'to lay their heads. Purse-Snatcliers* Devices. The freshest device for stealing pocket-books and hand-bags in the street is rather ingenious. The actual thief arranges matters so that he passes the intended victim just as his female confederate, who has been walking ex actly in front of her, stops suddenly and allows the owner of the object to be stolen to run against her. The victim is either sorry for her own carelessness or indignant at the confed erate's apparent stupidity. In the for mer case she apologizes, in the latter the confederate salutes her in such language that she hastens away fright ened and ashamed, and in either case she is too much occupied to notice when her purse is snatched from her lingers or her bag is cut from her arm. The detectives who watch crowds would do well to notice the women who are suddenly struck with admiration of something in a shop window, and pause abruptly to admire it, creating more or less confusion by the movement,--Boa- ton Transcript. Kot a Pillar. In church. Gabson (to his friend Blukins)--Yes, quite a respectable look ing congregation. By the way, who is that old fellow nodding? Blukins--Old man Jappl*. Gabson--Stands well in the church, 1 suppose. I dare say he is one of the pillars. Blukins --Oh, no, not one of the pil lars for you see he is- only a sleeiier*^r Arkanaaw Traveler. Au Artless Wirt. Willie Travis--I like you, Miss Northcote, because you don't play, or sing, or paint, or write poetry. Miss Northcote--Ah, but I do all of them, Willie! Whet made you think I didn't? "Because my big brother said you were the most artless girl he bed ever 1.met."' Polite Senators. • Politeness is a great power in this world. No ambitious youth can afford to disregard it, whether his object is the mere personal success or the public good. A striking example of its lasting effect, is afforded in a little book pub lished lately, entitled "Great Senators of Forty Years Ago," by Oliver Dyer, 'of the New York bar. In this book particular, mention is made of Jefferson Davis, as be appeared in the Senate Chamber when he was in the prime of manhood, and full of promise of a great career. Mr. Dyer was then a young short hand reporter; Col. Davis was only forty years of age, lame from the wound he had recently received on one of the bloc dy fields of Mexico, and looked upon by the people as one of the he roe? of that war. The .^oung re porter, although a fervent Abolitionist, became so warmly attached to him that 'he always afterwards remembered Mr. Davis, with pleasure, and laid hia chap ter, like a tributary, wreath, upon his tomb. The reason was "his genial personal kindness," Reporters were then hav ing a hard time of it, on account of the maty Mexican names and Spanish words used in the discussions of the treaty, and it often became necessary for them to get a sight of the words as prinjted in the documents. Mr. Dyer used to apply tc Col. Davis for information of this kind. "Ee would always get me the docu ment," he saya, "no matter how much trouble it gave him to do so, and lie did it with such genial courtesy and kindness that his manner went straight to the heart, and stayed there." In this instance it stayed forty years, and survived the passionate antipathies of a long war. The. same author mentions other ex- amp'es of the ineffaceable impression which is always made by a gentle and persuasive manner, even when the mo tive might not have been above sus picion. It is plain that the ex-reporter, now that his hair is gray, has a soft place in him memory for the late Senator Doug las, of Illinois, who used to occasionally •stray over to the Reporters'Gallery and chat familiarly with him, lying his arm upon the young journalist's shoulder "in a companionable way," as though he were a younger brother in whom he took an affectionate interest. There were some Senators whose manner was the reverse ot genial and polite. Mr. Dyer refers particularly to Daniel Webster as one who, at times, was "freezingly indifferent" when strangers were presented to him. It is easy to imagine the effect of this be havior upon a stranger, as well as upon" the member of Congress who had in troduced him. Mr. Dyer, remarks that he has seen members "turn crimson witlf indignation at Mr. Webster's un gracious reception of their constitu ents." Now; there are men who would pre fer Daniel Webster's style of receiving strangers who had no claims upon his time, to the free and easy bat iasincere mode of flattering all comers; but rude ness is ungenerous, and always wounds, and such wounds seldom heal. If even the semblance of good-nature is potent how irresistible and enduring the effect of a manner which gracefully expresses kindly feeling and genuine frendship! Youth's Companion. The Telltale Telephone. A conversation was recently carried' on by telephone between two ladies prominent in society circles which re sulted greatly to the mortification ol one and to the disappointment of the other,* says the Chicago Tribune. The trouble wus due to the fact that one of the ladies--whose boast, by the way, previous to her marriage, was that every "eligible" man in Chicago had proposed to her--failed.to bear in mind that a telephone is a machine which transmits words spoken near to its receiver, with a total disregard for the wishes of the speaker or the feel ings of the hearer at the other end of the wires. Having received an invitation to luncheon through the telephone, the lady turned to her sister near by with the remark. Mrs. A wants us to come to luncheon to-morrow. How under the sun can we get out of it?" "Ob, tell her we liftve a previous en gagement," was the reply. An answer to this effect was accord- ingly given to Mrs. A . But it was not needed. She had overheard the sidetalk, and was naturally much in censed. She did not let on, however, but on the contrary expressed great disappointment. "I'm so sorry." she said. "Mme. Patti is to be with us and 1 did so much want you and your sister to meet her." With this she said "Good-bye" and rang off. An hour later Mrs. A received a note to the effect that Mrs. X---- and her sister had succeeded in avoiding the previous engagement" and would be pleased to come to luncheon. It is needless to state that Mrs. A de rived exquisite pleasure in penning an answer which, though couched in the most polite terms, gently but firmly stated that the places of Mrs. X--- and her sister had been filled. Marrying by Photograph. A prosperous Slavonian rancher in the South end of the Huachuca moun tains same time ago visited his native land and found a large number of worthy young ladies among his ac quaintances who would be only too happy to find homes and . husbands in this land of progress and liberty. Se curing the photographs of a number of these young ladies, he brought them back with him and lost no opportunity to show them to his bachelor friends and neighbors. He told them that he had the promise of these young ladies that they would come to America and marry the man he would recommend, and as a consequence, a great many of his neighbors have excellent wives, each one selecting his choice from the photographs.--Nogales. (Ariz.) Herald. Not Ltqnor that Killed Him. Mr. Rumnose (looking up from his paper)--Sec here. Mr. Coldwater, how do you explain this? Here is an ac count of the sudden death of an athlete, a man who never drank a drop of liquor in his life, a model of physical health, the paper says, and yet he dropped dead at the age of 3p. It wasn't liquor that time, now was it? Mr. Coldwater--What was he doing? "He was in a merry party of friends and was singing 'Down weut Mc- Ginty.'" "Oh! Direct visitation of Providence, most likely."--New York Weekly. In Texas it is unnecessary to instruct the young idea how to shoot.--Hutch* f#ton ~ Moensltine and MoonsMaen* Moonshine whisky is not good. For whisky to be pure it must be carefully made, there must be a distillation last ing a certain time to elminate the im purities of the liquid, and the pipe3 and worm must be of the best copper and entirely free from foreign substances. None of these rules can the moonshiner follow when most of his attention is taken up in smothering the smoke from his fire, and watching for vigilant rev enue officers. It is an easy matter to Ket a little "moonshine whisky." ' In certain locali ties there are hollow stnmps in which the purchaser placet a bottle and apiece of silver. This is generally done late m the afternoon, and the next morning the bottle will be filled with mountain dew, and the money will be gone. It is a very simple transaction. All one has to do is to have the wonderful stumps pointed out to him. To describe a moonshiner's still is im possible, for there are no two alike, no two located in the same kind of a place, and no two made after the same plan. They have been found in caverns dug in the side off hills; under huge rocks shelving fromvthe mountain side; in natural caves, with hollow trees upon the surfr.c'j of the car'h uti'ized as smoke ttacks; in croek bottoms, in old barns, in swamps, on the mountain tops, anywhere that the mountaineer thinks may be safe from the watchful eyes of the Government officers. The moonshiners, as a general rule, are brave and fearless. A few years ago among the moonshiners in the Fulton county prison was Walter Black- man. On the night of Dec. 12, Black- man and a Miss Lulu Hicks were to be married. The guests had all arrived, among whom was a young man named George Blake!ey who had been a suitor for Miss Hicks' hand. Blakeley^was a mountaineer himself, or had been, but had lately travelled about considerably. The justice was preparing his papers and the bride and groom made their appearance from au adjoining room. There was a sound of horses' feet upon the frozen ground outside. More guests 'arriving. In a few moments a dozen revenue officers armed to the teeth entered the room and placed Blackman under arrest. The bride groom wa9 taken to Atlanta, and there was no wedding. At the trial Blakesley was the prin cipal wituess, and he testified as to how he had pointed * out the spot where Blackman's still was located and then told the officers of the wedding. Blackman was sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment. As soon as the trial was over Blakesley hastened back to the home of Miss Hicks and told'her that her lover had been sent to prison for life. For three months afterward Blakesley pressed his suit, and Miss Hicks finally married him. It may have been Blakeslev's inten tion to wait until the twelve months bad nearly expired aud to then move to spme other place with his wife. At the end of six months Blackman was pardoned, and the story of the in terrupted redding h&d something to do with the executive clemency. Blackmail went to his home, and was told of Miss Hick's marriage. He placed a Winchester on his shoulder, rode over to where Blakesley was living, and, calling him to the door, shot Mm through the heart. Biding hastily away he disappeared in the woods and has never since been seen.--Atlanta Jour nal. "' ' Whipped thv Wrong Man. A. oertain Irish Catholic clergyman, a fine, tall, handsome-looking gentleman, tells the following story eoncerning himself: When I first went to Scotland I de termined to make all the bad Catholics in my parish good living people if pos sible, and that not by argument or ex hortation, but chiefly by the liberal use of the blackthorn. I soon became a ter ror to all evil-doers that came under my jurisdiction. Hearing ono day that Biddy B , whose husband seemed never to be at home when I called, was beginning to neglect her religious duties again, I made a visit to her home with the inten tion of severely admonishing her. There was no one in when I called but a sour- looking workingmau taking his sunper. "Arc you Biddy's husband?" I in quired, » He simply answered, "Yes," and went on with his meal. "Were you at mass on Sunday?" I asked. "No," he replied. "And why weren't you, you black guard ?" said I, now getting angry at the fellow's coolness, But no answet did I get. for be seemed too much in terested in his meal to give me one. This thoroughly roused me, and 1 fell to and gave him a most merciless drubbing. The poor fellow never struck back, but made several frantic attempts to get out of my grasp. At last he succeeded and ran under the bed. I seized hold of a large broom in the corner of the room, and tried hard to poke him out again, for I was thor oughly wild. In the Aiidst of the excitement Biddy made her appearance on the field, and at once recognizing me, she held up her hands in horror, and exclaimed: "Father, what's the meaning of this?" "The meaning," I said, getting wilder. "The meaning, indeed. Why, I'm punishing your husband for not turning out to mass on Sunday, and if it were not that you were ~ a wo man I'd think nothing of giving you the mme." "Och, father, dear," said Biddy, in great distress of mind, "sure the poor fellow's not a Catholic at all, he's just a dacent Scotch Protestaut." I have met many Scotch Protestants since then (concluded the clergyman) for whom I have a very great liking and high esteem; but I am bound to say, in justice to myself, that none have I ever encountered for whom I have had a profounder respect or grander esteem than for that poor, patient, forbearing, magnanimous Scotch Christian. inburg Scotchman. *£> Amenities of Journalism. Dudish Reporter (in brand-new suit) --It doe* beat all. I've just been ordered to make a tour of the slums and write a column of scenes and incidents. My clothes will be ruined. Tramp Reporter (in rags and tatters) --I am in just as bad a fix. I have been assigned to Mrs. Nabob's ball, and I haven't a thing fit to wear. Dudish Reporter--I say. Let's trade assignments. Tramp Reporter--The city editor wouldn't allow that, but I'll tell . you how we can fix it. Let's trade clothes. --X&iu York Weekly. ONF of the most beautiful women in Paris, the Marquise de Galliffet, is suf fering from u peculiar form of insanity. Sl}e goes into convulsions whenever she aeea imr lace1 in a " PITH ASP P0IK11 tAKE--a mulatto. " Tips undertaker's favorite exerdse i» £ boxing. PASSING away time--handing ovvsr % your watch to a foot-pad. S ^ EVEN the homeless man mav have a title to mansions in the skies. A COUNTRY dentist advertises that "he spares no pains" to render l"« opera tions satisfactory. "WHEN I drink much I can't work, and so I let it alone." "The drinking V "No, the working." NEW YOKE b ill-playere pre'er their aunt to any other rela:ive-- their pen nant, we mean, of oourse. ARDENT Suitor--Do yon love me,dar ling? Modern Girl--I don't know. How much are you worth? r WHAT nonsense it is to say that a man is "inclined to be ba'd!" When a man is becoming bald it is quite against his inclination. FIRST Renter--I understand big flats 'It H tei don't pay in New York City? Second Renter (confidently)--You're off there, my boy. It's the biggeit flats who do piy. Miss CALLER--I called on'purpose to see your dear littie baby.' Is it a boy or a girl? Mrs. Four hundred--Why, it is a--a--really, I shall have to ask the nurse. SCRIBBLER--The man who calls a ballet dancer's costume a dress has the imagination of a poet. Bibbler--Why so? "He gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name." A WELL-DEFINED Hint. -- Ethel-- George, mother was looking when you kissed me last night. George--How did shetake it? "Well, she said she felt satisfied now that you mean busi ness." YOUNG Medical Student (to his sweet heart)--Do yon know, Julia, that the human heart is equal to the lifting of 120 pounds every twenty-four hours? Julia (demurely)--Well, that's just my weight. Passenger--Where is the porter? Conductor--He's a little busy just now. "Do you suppose I can get him to brush up my shoes a little?" "No, sir; he re serves this hour every day for cutting off the ooupons on his government bonds." JUDGE--What's the charge, officer? Officer--Petty larceny, your Honor;. Prisoner (interrupting)--I beg you par* don, judge--the charge is impersonat ing an officer. Judge--How do you make that out? Prisoner- -I took a handful of peanuts and an orange from a poor woman's stand without paying for them. JOHNNY--You ain't as big as my pa, Mister Brown. Mr. Brown--Yes, Johnny; I am much taller and larger in everv way than your father. Johnny-- Well, sister said you wasn't. Sister-- Why, Johnny, what an idea! I never said anything of the kind. Johnny-- Yes, you did, too. You said last uigbt that Mister Brown^was below par. "HAVE the groceries come in yet, John? It is only five minutes before dinner and the pantry's empty!" "No, ma'am, but they're on the way--the self-raising flour, the three-quarters cooked oatmeal, the canned vegetables, Jimpson's XXX ready prepared coffee, Erin's patent mashed potatoes, the twenty-second tea, the self-eating Lam- burger, and all." A WEIRD TAL& * A fellow who swallowed a draclna 'r" ^ Of poison «rew cold as a. clachm^^v'5|:: ^ And when somebody said " 1 don't believe he is dead," 1 ' ' f I • < ." The corpse (juickly shouted, "I admit" _ And "inco then they say that his ghost; Knoli uiglit walks round his bed pbost, * Aud ii, scares all ih folks Who arn't used vo such jolks,*', Ch<ur out of their aensea •IwihwiC'-Pf i' --Chicago Herald. Bright Schoolgirls. If there is such a thing in , existence in a school-teacher's note-book, con taining the unintentionally funny sa - ings of children, the melancholy man would do well to borrow it for the solace of his duller hours. The remark of a little girl, that "the earth is round like an apple, and the Noirth Pole sticks out of the top and makes the stem," should doubtless be included among its gems, together with the following anecdote, told by an old school-teacher, in the San Francisco Examiner: When T was * country pedagogue in the State of Maine, I was one day hear ing my class in spelling, and gave out the word "cuticle" to a big, red-haired girl. Slowly she drawled out: "Cu, cu, t-i, ti, cuti, c-I-e. cu-ficfc-le." I corrected her pronunciation, and asked her to define the word. She looked about blankly, as if in soarch of something to spur her memory, and, after a moment or two of silence, I said: "Why, what is it that covers your hands and face She looked quickly at each hand, and her face brightened. "Oh, yes," she replied, "freckles!" Lincoln's Courage. If you will allow me to diverge a lit tle here, let me say of Lincolu that he had a little of Andrew Jackson in him, considerable of it. He was a western man. He felt that when he had any thing to say he would say it* and Mfter there had been a great deal of diplom acy about the escape of the "Alabama," which preyed upon our commerce, and when diplomatic notes used up a great deal of nice paper and a great deal of gdbd ink, but no considerable brains of the writers (laughter) had been ex pended upon the question, and when Mr. Adams notified Mr. Lincoln that perhaps another "Alabama" might es cape, Mr. Lincoln took up a card abont _ the size of an ordinary viuting card, and wrote on that card: "Tell Palmerston that another 'Ala bama' means war." No "Alabama" escaped.--Ben But- let** Address. Hamas Lm. No one who has looked into life with honest eyes can have failed to discover that it derives untold values from the love which welcomes its dawn, attends its growth, and advances step by step >;nd soothes and cheers its old age. sluman love is itsolf a pearl of great price. How it enlarges, enriches, and ennobles human life'! What beneficent ministeries it oonducts! What patient heroism and severe self-suppression it inspires! In a mother it is faith ami hope and patients and effort and vic tory. In young hearts it is a transform- ing gladness, and awakening to the re sponsibility and to the rapture of life. In manhood and womanhood it is the balm of care, a refuge in temptation and a source of serenity.--New York Ledger. WHEN you see a man who kisses his children in public, you may be pretty sure that he keeps the seats of pantaloons well dusted at home. , DOCTRINE is nothing but the skin of trnKh aet up ap4' stuffed. --Beecher, f a-m •'> '4 •fe-::..- • * yk