Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 5, Number 52, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 26 June 1875 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

*f- [From the Home Joanml. $ TO THE BRIDE.

BY JOBK A. CHAP*AN.

timid I prevail with heavenly power* To make thy Ufeone mornipggl^o*. Aud crown thv brow* with teSrtst flower*. .Vnd make thee known in *o»g«uifl story O iovelles* woman that I know happiest, sweetest, purest, befr. The flylag momenta aa they go

Mhouhl make thee more and Mill more blest. And contd I weave a magic spelt-- •_ 3old keep thee safe in peace ands pienuor, How gladly 1—thoa knowe« well—

Would thus be thy most wire defender: Thy days should always grow more bright 1 hy lift «*l»k AnAdMitl /Miitt

Ihfci be, thy love, should love thee still. VVlth fond devotion true and tender. And keep thee safe from harm until

Thoo'dst rise at last to heavenly splendor loveliest woman that 1 know

blest

And ne'er should clouds of trouble come And o'er thy yathway darkly lower, And never should thy heart or home

Be nnder fell misfortune's power: Bat like a fairy, gem-like Isle,

West.

Blips

»tet In some snnny, sonthern sea. On which the heaven* lorever smsle. 8» bright, so pure thy life should be.

And then when eame thy setting

MID—

FOr all suns set In gloom or glory— Thy bliss should be bat Just begun In heaven where nought 1* trassitoy, 4 loveliest woman that I know.

O neblest, wisest, purest, best, Life's endlww ages, as they How. Hhould make thee more-ant! *tln more

Houth Carolina, May 20,1876. ?,

(From Appleton'S JOUI nui

Betty's Story.

I stood by the garden fenco tho morning before I was to leave the old bouse forever, and looked up and down the road. The flrst who came along was the oiilld of a neighbor, a little girl of eight years, on an errand for railk, with a white mug in ono hand and her two pennies tightly Clutched in the other. Coming along in the same direction was singular looking man in velveteen and uorduroy—the clothes much worn. His long-handled not in one hand, and his tin box slung at hia sido, were not neeOMsary to show mo that h© was a "bughunter," for the cruel wretch gave a visible sign of his calling in a butterfly pinned to his hat, with its wings fastened down by

oi card-board. I saw

that ho was young and good loeking. and he had taste for more of the animal creation than for insects, for be honored me with a prolonged stare. I showed my dislike at this scrutiny in some way, few he turned his gaze to the other side «r the road, and contemplated it with jtreat earnestness.

Just then I heard a cry. Sally Porry the little girl in question, had ^tumbled and fallen, breaking the mug and scattering her money in the dirt. Tbe bughunter quickened bis steps, raised the littlo girl, and helped Uer to find her money. Then ho took her by the hand, and led to the country store, which stood a short distance above. They both emerged presently, Sally with a new mug, the two chatting together, aud they were soon lost in the turn of the road.

I sighed. This was to be my last day the village. I was an orphan, and henceforth was totnako my own way in the world.

My father had boon one oi those unfortunate men who seem to le industrious without success, and who manage to be always pushing on without advancing a step. Ho was a bad manager. S long as my mother lived, he contrived to exist without being more than a triflo behindhand each year but those trilled accumulated until, in many years they made a considerable sum. By my -ed

mother's energy, which eonquere hjIBI

father's indecision, my brother Victor had been educated as civil-engineer,and a tow months after her death, had boen ottered a situation in Brazil, which he at once accepted. I was thus leu alone wtth my Hither, to keop house. As we could not afford to maintain a servant, I did all the labor of our petty housekeeping. The Vork agroed with me, and, in spite of all the shifts aud contrivances to which I was driven. I kept lively, healthy and strong. The result was that I had no socioty of my own vears. My father had been born and Imnl a gentleman, and being without means, shrank from contact with those of his order. He grew more reserved day by day, and even morose, and after the death of my mothor. lost his grip on life entirely, and so died.

I was left alone. My father had a maiden sister, who had wealth, &ud who knew how to keep it, and even add to it. That much I had learned incidentally but there was no intercourse between her and my father, and did not even know where she lived*, 'Eha nuwr»l expenses I managed to defray, and Mien found myself with little money. Knowing nothing of the law and caring Ipsa, a» a woman generally does, I went through no formality of administration, but Html the household effect* for What they would bring, paid off tbe tew debts my father bad left, deposited one-half of the money with the rector of the parish for my brother Victor, if he ever came to claim it, and with a hundred and nine dwilars In my pocket, and my fare paid, vent to Now York to seek some kind of

*"n!a^T notion of becoming a teacher. A woman in need always tries to teach professionally, and her desire in that diroctiouls In exact ratio to her inability. I could draw tolerably well, and, though rUad little knowledge of thorough base or counterpoint, could stag or play nutate at sight, and was a dextrous performer on the piano-fort*. If I could get scholars in musie or dicing, or a situation in some school, I could do very well. So I found a cheap boardinghouse, with the rector's recommendation, put a modest advwtiwwct* In tho Herald, and waited.

But no note aame requesting any service*, and n* pupils inquired for Miss Norman. My hill name was Florence Khsabeth Norman Grey but I bad dropped tho first and last part of it. Norman the name of an old coliegem&te of «:y father, and Florence had lt o:i i. me after his sister, whose cnrislening gift—a silver mug—1 still retained. 1 waited, however, patiently .! I ii reduced to my ISM ten dollar

B»!f. ATHI

then sat down diligently

iv taeadvertisement* in the Herald. thinking if the mountain would not ,*om« to roe. It was about time I should go the mountain. .,

I skipped the shop-girl lis! 'Not that PI bad ihe Hlightest oi»je*ion to remain a day .n lalmiier.aadlook iusolenUy a- .! s* ana throw bnck my bead, a:. I t. joounter with my pencil, and u: "JST# mi*k at the proper inti va hut knew that I should have to stood aU dftj, oo. my itei, »J task-

affiflpltS

master not caring that he la slaytng^la unhappy alaves In insisting on W wearying position. Liwklanutti woula furnish a cheaper mode oi taking one^a life, and be less painful. Oompanlen to an elderly lady waa more enticing, wt to be snarled at aad nagged by my employer, and suspected by a tnhe or nephews and nieces of vague designs on the family eetate, was not a pleasant thing to think of. much lees to endure. But Iran through all the advertisements withous seeing anything. I turned to the servants' column,emphatically beaded, "Help wanted—Females," and amused myself with the style used to express tbe wants and detures of em-

Cmtion:

still more

loves. Tho following arrested my at-

Wanted—in a family of one, with a chambermaid employed, a young woman for general housework. An American girl, even If inexperienced, preferred. Wages ample, and treatment according to conduct."

Then followed the address. I read it twice over. Should I ato'y lor this situation—a housemaid? Why not? I had experience enough, "wage* ample," t" say nothing of good food, ooiniortable lodgings, and no care for the

uways

and means" of tho house. At

all events I determined to try it. I dressed myself In the plainest of my few gowns, smoothed down, as much as possible, my rebellious curly hair, substituted plain linen collar and enfls for lace adornments—part of poor mother's well preserved finery—carelully removed a couple of rose buda from inv shred of a bonnet, and set out for No. 824 Nerth street. When I arrived there I hesitated about ringing the belL The house, though not very large, had an air of style calling for several servants. The name was on the door. I picked up courage and gave tho bell-pull a timid jerk. No one answering lor a bit, I made up uiy mind to go but just then the door suddenly opened, and a girl, with an ill-fitting dress banging loosely from her body, and a very Dl-numored expression ot countenrnce, stood iu tbe aperture* $ "Well?" she asked, sharply.

Is Mrs. Dartnell at home T" I s'pose she be," was the answer. "Come in, and I'll see. What's the name?"

Elizabeth Norman." She at first left me standing In the hall, but presently returned and showed me into the parlor.

Tho room was handsomely furnished, ly /but looked to be little cared for. There was a large and fine piano in the room, covered Ty a crimson cloth dulled in color by the dust. There was dus the chairs, on the mantel ornament-, on the bric-a'brac trash here and tl.ere— confusion and untidiness every win re. I had merely time to note this when an old lady, in a black alpaca gown, so neat In person as to show a marked contrast toner surroundings, entered. "Whatcan I do for you, Miss Norman?" she asked.

Betty Norman, if you please," I replied. "I have come to see about the place." "Theplace!"—and a suspicious.shadow crossed her face. Sho looked at me keenly, and then took hold of one of my hands. "This does not loek as if it were used to heuse-work."

It is, for all that," I answered "aud if you try it, you will find it to be a willing and experienced band."

Where nave you served? What is your reference?" I have served at home. I have never lived out, but I understand all about it. Try me!" I exclaimed, desperately, for my chance seemed slipping away. "Sit down, child—you look tired. There—you have never lived out before. You have a historv what is it?"

I hesitated at first but there was something motherly in her face, and I told her all—all except my true name and I even mentioned that I had dropped apart of that, but what was left was legitimately mine.

I will try you," sho said at length "but I warn you that lam, at times, a verv disagreeable fractious old woman —very apt to rind fault. You may not like me as well as I ain disposed to like you,"

It is not mv business, Mrs. Dartnell, to like or dislike, but to serve you. If you find fault for good reason, I shall endeavor to amend if you find fault without occasion I shall try to bear it." "What wages do you expect?" "Whatever is customary. I don't know what is given usually,"

It is easy to see that you're not accustomed to service. I gave my last girl fourteen dollars per mouth, and allowed her every Sunday out."

The wages will do, madame and, as for the Sunday out, I should like to go to church once a week, if convenient but I have no acquaintances, and, in New York, shall make none."

Very well when can you oome?" As soon as I can have my trunk brough here, ma'am."

Nothing wassaid about reference, bnt she evident! credited ray story and, by afternoon, I was installed as mistreta of tho kitchen, where I found ail those modern labor-saving contrivances which have reduced bitchon toll to its mini* mum. I found my follpw-servant, the ohambermaid who bad litntf i$, pret*r* lag to leave. Sho had givefl warmug to.. Mrs. Dartnell that mornins. I inquired her grievance. "Ain't got none." was the reply. "Nothm' much to dp—only three beds to make, except when the old woman's nephew comes here onoa a year but I prefer factory work that I've been used to and besides, "lit get some society there."

So she went off to her "ftictory work" and her "society" next day, and wo got another In her stead—ono of four applicant*—a tidy, quiet girl, my pick, in fret, for Mrs. Dartuell took her at my favorabl* impression.

I liked tke mistress, and I liked the piaoe from the first, and continued to like it. I did not find the old lady to be as disagreeable as she said, and aae Dover found fault, except in tho mildest and Midst heaiaititig way. And so six months passed off, ana my mtstrem and myself be&ait to approach familiarity. Tired of her iott&aesa,»»h* freoaanily brongbt her knitting—she plied her needles with all the assiduity of a German /Vtiit—to tho kitchen, aud F»»ld sit there while I ink •noased about my datiws, rarely saying anything, but apparently wrap

At length there was a little change in mv ttumatommm lift. One Sunday I wtos at'tiie morning service In church, and had bees in a pew In tho eallery, taking mv seat, as usual, bore 1 could get it, ami was a little tardy iu oomlng out. As I uamo to tbe vestibule, the W*or e«me down the aisle and pamed byjne pausing at the door a moment to spnlt to tbe organist. ,*•

What was the trouble in the eholr, Mr. Eaten?" he asked. Miss Patten, our wutndto, haa been taken suddenly ill, I don't know how I can supply her place at abort aotiee far the afternoon eervioe,"^ «That is iucouvonient,w said tbereotor. and, after some other remarks pawed on. 1 stepped up to where tbe Ojrgantet stoodwKh knitted brows,

his arm. He turned

m^S%

and lapped

onoe.

EMM malar having aiaihaard you

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

without Intondtog tt," IwM ^g|tfihT

with tbo^chureh aorvioo, -and I flag "^Wlll you coizie Into the chcdr?" he aald.

I followed ldm, and hi "ign^led tbe other members of Ae cbolr, who were aOll there. A very abort trial satisfied him, and I promised to oome in the afternoon.

I asked leave of Mm. Dartnell,of course telling her the circumstance. Will you not fall?" tho old lady inquired.

smiled a negative. Wbv, I never knew you were muaical. Vou never touched the piano." it is not the business of house-maids to play on their mlstreeses' pianos."

Very good bnt you have been something more than a servant here. Will you let me hear you sing now —1— touc larly In tune, tbougli aat down to It wllUngly. Iroout practice, my fingers were Stiff but excitement more than made up lor it, 1 suppose, for I had never played better, and my voice was in excellent order.

I foresee you will get that place per-

Miss Patten will be well di

rectly." "No, no! I see thia wiU be your turning-point, and I shall lose you.

You shall not lose me, Mia. Dartnell," I said for the old lady betrayed in ber voice that she would really be sorry if I went.

My singing that afternoon was a success. Mrs. Dartnell was right about Miss Patten. She never returned to the choir. She had ruptured a blood-vessel, was sent to Florida, remained there some months, and came back to die. I was engaged In her place at a

salary

five hunared dollars a year—a little fortune to me but I did not lose my place in tbe house, which I liked, and did not find one occupation to interfere with the other. To my surprise, Mrs. Dartnell engaged another house-maid, and put her under my eupervlslon, thus promoting me to oe a

Kind

of housekeeper.

did not demur to this, but insisted on serving witbontpay and it was settled on that basis. Tho old lady .whose confidence In me was unbounded, gave me the keys, and we always took our meals together. I

was

quite happy, though

somewhat uneasy about my brother, from whom I had heard nothing all this while, though my address had been sent to our old rector with a request to forward any letters that might oome.

One evening a letter came to Mrs.

^^Betty, my dear," she said, "Fred is below in the Day, and is coming to-mor-row to pay me a visit. He has promised to stay a week, and we must have .the front-room above got ready lor him.

Very good," was the reply. Frea" was her nephew, Mr. Drury, very rich, rather eccentric, and quite distinguished

as a

naturalist. I had heard

enough of him, his merits and peculiarities being a standard subject. Next day he came. I could hear nis noisy greeting up-stairs from where I was in the kitchen, superintending preparations for dinner but it was "none of my funeral," as they say, and I calmlv proceeded with my duties.

Mrs. Dartnell came down aftor a while. "Whydon't you dress for dinner?" she asked. "I? I thought after so long an absence you'd want to monopolize him," said I, giving a pudding-mixture its final stir. "Oh, I'll see enough of him before his visit is over," she replied "and I want you to like him." "Good gracious 1" I exclaimed, "^ou don't expect him to fall in love with the housemaid

Don't go, Betty, for to put me in a passion," she cried, quoting an old play and up stairs she went in high Bpirits.

Just before dinner was ready, after giving iinal directions to Francoise, my Swiss lieutenant, I ran up stairs and freshened myself up a bit. I was anxious to see this paragon of nephews, and determined he should not see me at my worst. I made my appearance in the parlor a few minutes before we were callod to the dining room, and there Mrs. Dartnell cooed out, in her soft way:

Miss Norman, this is my nephew, Mr. Drury." 1 bowed, raised my eyea, and lo! there stood the bug-hunter whom I bad seen nearly a year before.

But what a shock to my vanity! He had not apparently carried away any vicue picture printed by the look he had given mo then, for he did not seem to recognize me.

Of course I sat at the table to listen. a« had a great deal to say, for his aunt plied him with questions. Ho had been up the Amazon river and its tributaries, and had come home with boxes of birds and insects, and all kinds of oddities, euoQgh to stock a museum.

Tbe reason I did not write to you of Intel" lie said, in reply to a question, iy mnri "was that I was away from all mails for sli Uienths, locked up In the forest, and jHtft savage people. I came near atayIng there entirely."

How was that 1 got into a scrape with the natives —offended one of thoirchiefo, innocently enough, too—and but for the influence of an American engineer there, engaged bv an English company to aurvey a rant they bad, I should nave tared bad

He is a fine follow, and expects to be homo In 4 mouth. Ho bad only heard of his father's death when he came down the river with me, and I have a letter from him for bis sister,who, •oeoirding to him, is such apiece of perfection that I tremble to meet her. I know the vfllage where she lives—at least 1

I know all the beetles and butter fiiea ip that ouarter-and I tnuat go and hunt ber up.1'

Mav I ask the engineer's name, Mr. Drury "Certain!

ftlnly: Grey—Victor Grey." had a letter (torn my broth

So he ha* Wl|o was coming home.

icr,

"Mr. Drury, you will not find tho rsou you seek. She has left Seala«1."

Ah, you know whore she is, perhaps?" "lean find her and, if you will Intrust tho letter to mo, I wfiltakooaw the receive* it."

I am very much obliged, and It would save me some trouble out thou, you see, I wish lo deliver it in person, should like to make ber acqualn-

You will find her very ordinary person, probably." "*Et»en sho Is very unlike her brother I can tell you, who la one of tbe beat they snake nowadays. However, I ahali know her when ho comes borne, if before and you oan deliver the letter, If roa will be so kind."

After dinner Mr*. Dartnell, who waa anxious to show off ono of ber pets to the other, made me play for Freaeriolt and tn int evening got me io sing. I aooe found that IfavDrnry bad a highly 0«dUvat«d baritone voice, and we tried duets together, to tlw great delight of his aunt,w5owo«ld lm kept up (fee

The nephewl viaitextended from a week Into two, tad then another, and finally a month, during which he coaxed out hla domestic auut to divere places of amusement, and into a deal of unusual and harmless dissipation. I was always one of the. party, audit wss ***7 pleasant, especially when I reflected that I bsd entered the parlor by way of the kitchen. It seemed, like a dream, and! wondered what was to oome next.

We were expecting Victor homethough neither Mr. Drury nor his aunt knew our relationship—when one morning our entomologist brought iu some music from anew opera over which the ust then, and with int listening ai riage stopped at

I started—cou

I—could

a car-

the door.

it possibly be Victor

Tbe front door opened, and we beard a sharp voico in the hall. "Oh, stuff and nonsense! she Is here, I know she is. Show me Into the parlor, and send her there right away."

But, I tell you. madam— Stuff! do as I hid you." And the owner of the voice pushed open tho parlor door, and walked in on us.

She was an old lady, small, withered, and with pinched up features, and twinkling, black eyee.

I beg your pardon, madam, Mrs. Dartnell, I presume I learn you have my niece here, and I wish to see ber. I am Miss Grey."

Mrs. Dartnell went forward, while I stood In an agony of mortification. This then was my eccentric aunt, whom I had never seen since I was a child but I remembered her eyes, and her manner, which had not changed.

Miss Norman resides with me, madam," replied Mrs. Dartm il, with a stateliness she could assume when required. "Is it she vou wish to see?"

Miss Gorman, eh! Aii, there she is. I'd know her anywhere, by her likeness to my brother. Good notion it was for your father to put.Norman into your name. Not that he meant anything by it—he never meant anything by it, poor man. Do you know why I've hunted you out No, of course you don't. I'm rich—why don't you hurry to claim kin? I'm old, I suppose. Well, it would be no better for you, for I intend to leave every cent 1 have to Victor, every cent."

I bowed to escape laughing. Sarcastic, too! Wei 1, you have more spirit than your father ever had, but you're just as proud in a different way. A pretty chase I've bad all the way to Sealsford, and you gone. The lawyers couldn't find you, so they set the police on veur track

Police!" Yos—police! That was their idea. I went down myself. Mr. Bland wouldn't tell me at first, until I showed him my business. Then he did quickly enough I jumped in the cars, my coach was at the station when I got to town, I made George drive mo here, and here I am. Not glad to see me, are you?"

Well, aunt, you know I never have seen you since I was a child, and your visit now is so unexpected'

Of course. Now, I'll tell you why I come. You were partly named after old Norman—sensible man! lived died a bachelor. The mau that married is tbe biggest fool in the world, oxcept the woman that marries with him. He is dead—had no kin of his own to leave his money to, nnd so he left it all to you. That's why 1 don't inlend to leave you anything, child—shall alter my will to-morrow, because you'll have enough without it. And here's the lawyer's letter. And I'm sure I'm obliged to you, Mrs. Dartnell Mr. Bland says you've been verv kind to the girl. "There's my address, Florence come and see me. And, by-the-by, I found Victor at Sealsford, looking for you—brought him along in the carriage —didn't let biui know you were here, for I wasn't quite sure—he's out there now."

And off she went. Frederick ran out after her. There was a terrible hand shaking in the ball, and my big brother, bronzed and bearded, was dragged rather than led into the room.

The lawyer's letter was examined after the greetings were over, and explained all. Baring a few trifling legacies to servants and others, I was left sole heir ess to Mr. Norman's considerable wealth.

Victor, after a month's visit, returned to Brazil, where he married the daughter of a rich planter, an€ where be continues to reside. I remained with Mrs. Dartnell until I was married. Aunt Grey bids fair to lust a lohg while yet, and divides ber time between our house and her own.

Ours Yes—Frederick doesn't go bee-tle-bunting so much now—he Mtudies the tour youngsters we have, and has

ffrown

quite acquainted with their babts and peculiar appearance. He has one very bad fault—he will persist in calling me Betty Housemaid.

But, after all thero is no romance In this world. I undertook to turn tbe tables on my "worser half recently, and twitted him with having taken his wire irom the kitchen. He only laughed in a provoking way but Mrs. Dartnell, who was sitting in the room, looked up, aud said:

Hasn't he never told you, then Told mo what, auntie dear?" Why, simply that I wrote, and learned all your history as soon after you came as I could, and that I took to my parlor, not the kitchen maid, but the young gentlewoman who waa trying to place herself in a false position."

I was astonished. "Yes,"sa|d he in confirmation, "and I had made myself acquainted with all that before she did for, if you suppow that I did not inquire the name ana con nectionsof tbe young lady at tho gate within two hours aftor I had first aeen her, then you don't understand human nature, my dear—especially man's n* turo."

And, reflecting on all things, I have since concluded that, bat for a train of unusual circumstances, my experiment of hiring out might not have resulted In anything but loan of caste, and disagreeable position.

Sead.

A cosaciiacrrocs child was so onfortu nate to bre^k a berry dish of cut glass, which waa one of her mother's wedding gifts. After aaking forgiven and abrading many team, who reoor to prayer, aiid every night after her usual auppUottiooa, ate added: "AndO, Lord mend tho glass dish." But her fbthar, being of lime fltith, obtained some cement, wHh which ho neatly

ing tbe wonderful work ber fhtberhad done, she sprang up to her mother's room with, "Oh, mama! papa baa boot Ciod this time, for be haa mended the glaasdisb."

Warn a boy fells and peels tbe skin off hla noes, the flrst thing be dees is to gtft upandyell. Wbena girl tumbles and hurt* hereelf badly, the first thing she does fa to get up aad look at ber 4MM.

IflSB XHK GAME LEO. [Detroit jPreeFrao.]

Yesterday a haod-oiganiat aat down before a bouse In Congress street and began to turn out sweet melodies, but the first tune hadn't been finished when an odd-looking man about fifty yean old, having a game leg and a general forlorn look, came along and baited In front of tho Italian.

Now, that Is sweet!" he said after a moment "carries mo right

book

to tbe

days when me and Hanner aat on the hind stoop and square bands and told our love."

Op-era wuzeek,'Applied the Italian, smiling at tho enthusiasm of hla audience. "Wall, now, but It touches me right here!" continued the man with the

fourteen years before. angels buzzing around in the air." He rested his game leg on a horseblock, folded his arms, ana hia look and attitude were that of a man whose heart was filled with sad thoughts and palnftil memories. Just as tbe tears were starting to his eyes tbe organist moved the stop, increased the speed, and "Captain Jinks" was merrily rattled off. "Some odder kind of muzeek," he explained, and tho handle hadn't made four revolutions when the man with the game leg began to smile. Then he

uslied nis hat over on the side of his Then he hitched up hia trowsors, smiling some more, and exclaimed:

By^gum! it that 'ere tune dont just make me hop all overt" Good muzeek," replied the Italian, "Good! Wby the darned tune la heavenly! believe If I was dyin'it would stand me on end! I'd give a billion dollars if Hanner was alive and could hear that!"

He stepped out, anlt on his hands. Mid and gfloppf weather-board,

then waltzed up and down the flags, his lng around like a loose and his h^aree. voice

game leg ther' bawling

Ham Cabdin Her 'ass marl

While be was doing his level best the musician touched the stop again and the tune changed off on to "filrdlo, I Am Tired Now." "Ahl that soothes me, that does!" said the old man as he sat down on the horse-block. "That's sunthin' more to touch the heart aud make me think of my poor Hanner!"

vary sweet muzeek," remarked the Italian Sweet! Great skies! but it's melting I've known that tune along time, but I never could sing It yet without weeping. If had a million of dollars I'd buy a hand-organ and play that tune straight along for six months withont stopping tbe crank!"

He put his hands over his face and appeared agitated, und the Italian did not seem to care whether he collected a cent or not. He ground the tune out, touched the stop and remarked:

Vary grande muzeek dls time—ha!" And "Yankee Doodle" rolled from the little square box like sbeet-light-ninjj^ sliding down the side of a hay"Great concord!" yelled the man with a game leg as the tune reached "Doodle Dandy "hold on a minute till I get this leg under me! Thar—let he? Cpuie now

Whoodle, poodle, doodle-do I Hi, sky, doodlo aandy!"

And he leaped around, slapped tbe Italian ou the oack, threw his hat on the walk, aud continm-d: "Snaixand reptiles! but don't that tune make glory stand right out like mud on a white houso. 'Rah for us!"

Tbe Italian saw that a crowd was gathering, and he broke the tune short off and sailed away on the "Suwanee River."

The first strains of tho dear old melo dv had scarcely left tho box when the man with the game leg leaned up against a treo-l)ox, wiped the sweat from his brow and said:

There's something more to remind uie ol' my lost Hanner! "Isn't that pervisions for the hungry soul, though! What strains! What tears! What a bulging of the heart!"

Vary soft muzeek," remarked the Italian. Soft! My heavens! Man, if you'll pay my board I'll travel the whole country over and carry that organ, jlstto hear vou play that tune!"

He reached out his arms, made motions as if drawing the tune to his breast, and whispered:

G-lory! When I die let me die listening to* the strains of the 'Suwanee River!'"

The organist shouldered his box and moved on, and the man with a game leg leaned up against a fenoe and wiped his eye*.

DOX'TS&ruNO.u [Logansport Pharos.]

When your child comes to you with a reasonable request, dont say "No." The thoughtless abuse of autboritjuon the part of parents has allenatod the love ol many a child, and imbittered his manhood. In most cases children know when they make a request whether it is reasonable and proper, and whether the parent can grant it without inconvenience. A peremptory refusal rankles in the heart, and tho child smarts under the injustice. Tbe abuse of authority in the government of children is as hurtful as a failure to exercise a wise restraint.

When your boy has learned bis lessons and faithfully performed the task you assigned, it is not only unwise, but cruel, to deny^ his request for harmless recreation. This Is often done through the thoughtlessness of parents who Imagine that they are kind to their children. They do not intend to rob their offspring of the pleasures of childhood. The do not dream they are malting them taciturn and cynical. They simply say no" when they ought to ssy "yea"-

right which wise pa: gard forget that life's morning must be gladsome if Its noontide be blessed.

SoMSof tbe women are in ecslacles over the poll-back stylo of the dresses now-a-dayv. Says one of 'em: "Woman has a certainly evoluted a littlo out of the original sin. At last you see, in broad daylight, ber lees, ber arms, her whole natural shape. Undoubtedly we shall retrograde a trifle, but progress is our watchword, and the eye of propheev beholds, Sn a future Eden, woman rooed In garments which will allow the fiee action of all the organs, for all are "honorable." Therefore, ngoioe with me that my sex once more dares to slow Adam tbe woman—not a bundle of rag*. but tbe form divine in its beauty and grace, and pray with me that the aay is not

distant when the legs, now tied

back, he emancipated, and, through tho recovered laws of health, a new womanconstitution formed, to which she shall cling with Andy Johnson tenacity for ever and ever."

lb cure a cracked heel, take gunpow-^ der and lard and make a solve of it. Grapes are reoommended as a cure for bUllousness. The add of the fruit relieves the stomach of its bile.

To Kill Bedbugs.—Beat the whites of five eggs to a stiff froth, add to this one ounce quicksilver apply with afeather, tn every crevioe.—[Cincinnati Times.

Lemon Pie.—Take one lemon, hash It up fine, one spoonful of butter, one cup or sugar, ono spoonful of flour, two tins of hot water, one egg. This will make four pies.—{Cincinnati Times.

The oleander Is a dangerous house plant. Children have been poisoned by eating tho petals. A single drop of Its milky, add juice will kill an lufent, and the odor exhaled lrom tho blossoms Is also deleterious to the health.

Spiced Gooseberries.-Eight pounds of gooseberries, four pounds of brown su* nr. half pint of pure cider vinegar.. Boll one hour and a half. When done add dnnamon and cloves. They will' keep without sealing, and are very nice.,

Cincinnati limes.

Cleanalng tbe Ear. foreign substa

•The removal of

ncea lrom the ear may

oftoif be aooompllahed by doubling a horse-hair In the form or a loop, and, pladng tbe patient upon the side, passing the loop into tho ear as far as it will

Statethen

o, turning it gently.—[Maine Farmer. When to Eat Cucumbers.—Cucumbers In the early part of July ait) a luxury, and eaten in moderation are not unwholesome. They should always bo

Sew

icked early in tne morning, when the is on them. Gathered later iu the day, under a broiling sun, they are wholly unfit to eat. This Is, no doubt, one reason why they are considered unwholesome by many persons.—[Maine Farmer.

Renovating Clothe^.—Take two ounces of common tobaoco boiled iu a gtilloh of water. Rub on with a stiff brush. The goods are nicely cleanedj audjio tobacoo smell remains. ft"

To Remove Mildew.—Soak the parts of the cloth that are mildewed iu two parts of chloride of lime to four parts of water, for about two hours, or till the mildew has disappeared then thoroughly rinse it in clean water.—[Hamilton (Mo.) Bulletin.

Aunt Polly's Pudding.—Tahe thin slice of light bread, well buttered, put a layer In the bottom of a dish, then a layer of strawberries, well sprinkled with augar then another layer of bread, then another of borries, aud so on until the dish Is full cover with a plate, and bake for a half hour in a quick oven, or three-quarters 1 a slower one. When baked, beat the white ef an egg to a froth, add a table-spoonful of powdered Sugar, spread it evenly over the top of the pudding, brown it in tho oven and serve.—[American Grocer.

To Grow Fleshy.—If any one wishes to grow fleshy, a pint of milk taken before retiring at night will cover the scrawniest bones. The idea that milk is "feverish" has exploded, and it is now the physidan's great reliance in bringing through typhoid patients, or those in too lew a state to be nourished by solid food. It is a great mistake to scrimp tbe milk pitcher. Take more milk and buy less meat. Look to yonr milkmen, have large-sized, well-filled milk pitchers on the table each meal, and you will also have sound fleah and light doctor's bills.

And this fearful mess is what they call soup, in Cincinnati: Potato Soup.—Wash four potatoes, add one quart of cold water, ono cup of baking powder, (to make it light,) one cup of meal, one of sugar, one of butter, one of rice, one of raisins, five crackers, and one cup of salt.—[Cincinnati Times

A MOTHER'S HOME.

Tbe most perfect home I ever saw was in a little house, into the sweet incense of whose fires went no costly things. Six hundred dollars served for a year's living of a father, mother and three children. But tbe mother was a creator of home, and her relations with ber children were the most beautiful I have ever seen. Even a dull and commonplace man was lifted up and enablod to do work for souls, by the atmosphere which this woman created. Every inmate of her bouse involuntarily looked into her face tor the keynote of the day, and it always rang clear. From tne rosebud or the clover leaf, which, in she always to put by our plates at breakfast, down to the essay or story she had

spite of hor housework, found lims to put by our plates at break fast, down to the essay or story she ha_ on hand to be read or discuactcd in tbe evening, there was no intormission of her influence. She always has been, and always will be,, my Ideal of a mother, a wife. If to her quick brain, loving heart, and exquisite tact had boen added the appliance of wealth and tbe enlargement of wider culture, hers would have been absolutely tbe laeal homo. As it was. It Is the best I bsve ever seen. It has boen more than twenty years since I crossed its threshold. 1 do not know whether she Is living or not. But as I see house after house in which fatbors, mothers, and children are dragging out their lives in hsp-hazard alternation of listless routine and unpleasant collision, I alwaya think with a sigh of thst little cottage by the sea shore, and the woman who was tbe "light shereof, and I find in the faco of many women and children, as plainly written aud as in tun newspaper columns

aad to see as

irspaper tea—A 1

of "Personals"—"Wan

Home."

TREATMENTOFA BALKYHORSE. The Socioty for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals puts forth the following rules for tho treatment of balky bones 1. Pat the horse upon the neck examine tho harness carefully, fin* on ono side, then on the other, speaking: encouragingly while doing so then jump Into the wagon and give the word go generally be will obey. 2. A teamster in Maine says he can

to round in a circle till be Is giddy, the first dance of this sort does not cure him, a second will. 3. TO cure a balky horse, simply place your band over the horse's noso and ihut off his wind till bo wants to go. 4. Tbe brain of a horse sevrae to entertain but one idea at a lime therefore, whipping only confirms his stubborn resolve. If yon can, by any means, give him a new subject to think of, yon will generally have no trouble In starting him. A simple remedy is to take a couple of turns of stout twine around the fore leg, just below the knee, tight onough for tne horse to feel, and tie in a bow knot. At tbe flrst check, ho will probably go dancing off, and alter going a short distance you can get out and remove the string to prevent injury to the tendon in your further drive. 5. Take the tall of the horse between tbe hind legs and tie it by a cord to the irth.

IF, in instructing a child, yon are vexed with it for a want of adroitness, toy, if you have never tried before, to write. saddle git— with vou? left hand, and then remember 8. Tie a string around tho horses ear, that a child is all left band.

close to his head.